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morallyinept · 6 months

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Candles - A Joel Miller Birthday One Shot

Summary: It's your birthday and you're convinced that Joel has forgotten. Or worse, that he's hiding something from you.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Smutty - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Angst & Joel being a miserable bastard on your birthday.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Written for my birthday. Completely self-indulgent; Joel's the best gift, right? For anyone else celebrating their birthday today, I'm sending you the biggest smooch. 💋🖤

Check out my other birthday story, featuring Frankie Morales, called Birthday Cake.

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Joel doesn't like birthdays.

His birthday, September twenty-sixth, was the day the whole world went to shit. Outbreak day.

He lost Sarah on his birthday. His watch stopped when he was shot at, so he can't be sure if it was still his birthday or not, but that day and the events are ingrained in his mind, carved into the blood smeared bone in the back of his skull.

The root of all of his resentment at how he failed to stick a bullet in himself and hold his sweet Sarah again in the afterlife.

Even before the world fell, birthdays were just another day. Another brick in the wall. But they matter to you; bending his ear constantly about imaginary scenarios and the types of things you’d do if you still could celebrate it.

He wants to tell you to quit harpin' on 'bout it, but he's not cruel, despite that reputation preceding him.

Ordinarily, your excitement at such a trivial thing of adding rings to your tree trunk would give him some morsel of joy, but not when it serves a harshly confronting reminder of everything he's lost.

He remains stoic and focused, unreadable. Life and constant, crushing hardship has turned Joel into a shell of the man he once was. He knows no peace, alienated from calm.

The ink is running off the pages in his book that you thought you could read so well in the early days. The chirpy rambling from your mouth soon dips and you withdraw, keeping schtum about it further when you see the hackles of his shoulders rise.

Your birthday has been on the approach for some time now, layers of carbonic dread forming under the skin as the days move closer and closer towards it, and it's evident that Joel doesn't share your enthusiasm.

And Joel, although resolute in his usual steeliness, seems more distracted as of late too.

The lights are on, but there’s no-one home when he looks at you anymore. Conversation has been reduced to annoyed grunts and the three-sixty roll of his eyeballs clacking around in his sockets more so than usual.

And it’s all reduced to ash as the uninvited thoughts begin to infect and plague you about the possible root cause.

You ask him, one gloomy afternoon as the rain pelts against the grubby pane in your shared apartment in the QZ. Joel invited you into his home in the embryonic stage of your courting. Cleared some space through the little that he has to accommodate you and slot you into his life this past year. Made room for you in his bed.

You struggle sometimes to remember what life was like without him, as cliché as it sounds. Almost a full, singular rotation around the sun and yet Joel feels ingrained in your blood, kindred.

So why do you feel so sick to your gut right now?

He’s pulling on his boots, a low grumble heard when he leans forward and he feels his back crack with the strain. You’re getting ready mentally for him to depart from you for a few days on a scouting run, and it gets harder each time he leaves.

“Joel, is everything okay?” You ask him, looking at him through the reflection in the glass from behind you, with eyes that tell you he knows that you know something is up with him.

More so than his usual grouchy self that you find endearing despite the fluctuating temperance. That a part of him isn’t functioning properly like it used to, and the thought of that - that you can see that so plainly when he tries his damndest to hide it from you - is disconcerting to say the very least.

What else are you hiding from me, Joel?

“What d’ya mean?” He asks, his eyes and thick fingers focused on battling with small knots that aren’t made for giant hands.

“Us.” You say tentatively like it's a foreign word in your mouth.

Taboo to announce it out loud; you've both never confirmed it wholly. It's always been assumed that you're his and he's yours.

You look at the bleak, grey of the outside world. A gated world that’s incredibly small, and getting smaller as the intrepid seconds wear on.

Questions, thoughts and images; all blinking through you trying to piece it all together whilst you move stagnantly through a heavy swamp of confusion. The exact truth is staring you in the face, but try as you might to refute it; it’s plainly obvious and it begins to terrify you in new ways.

He’s pulling away from you, has been for some time now.

You can feel it in your bones as they twist and contort under your skin mercilessly. Invading your dreams and depriving you of any sleep. Nightmarish images invade tenfold of a face you know, yet don’t at the same time.

Renegade tears make themselves acknowledged, at the most inconvenient of times, and there’s only so long you can convince Joel that it’s nothing or that of a pre-menstrual crisis starting, so he’d immediately back off.

He never pushes, never probes. And it's as equally welcome as it is frustrating at times.

Emotionally you’re a wreck and you need it to stop, or for certain realisation to bear its face to Joel. It’s been a lengthy waiting game. Teetering on the edge to realisation, although part of you already knows.

He just doesn't know how to tell you. How to break your heart. And it’s worse somehow, because he’s forcing you to do it instead.

“Ya bein’ stupid.” He says, finished with the tirade of mumbles and grunts directed at the laces, and stands.

You don’t say anything to him when he asks you to explain your odd behaviour in not so many words. Instead, you stand there, forehead propped against the mottled window, steaming up from your breath, and not facing him, sulking like a prepubescent teenager being scolded for staying out too late by an overbearing father.

You can see he’s growing testy and this irks you further. Should you finally go there, omit the truth and deal with the chips wherever they may fall? Would that even be possible?

You have to tell him what's swirling a cyclone in your mind, whether it's absurd or not, right?

His broad frame in the window reflects back at you. Stepped forward and closer now so he’s looming almost. You begin to inadvertently cower into yourself a little, arms encapsulating for warmth and reassurance, and you’re sure he’s noticed because he seems to grow in height, feeding off your inward distress. His eyes are piercing and his mouth is that thin, hard line again.

He tells you you're being stupid, but it does little to cease the heavy gnawing.

Sighing, he gathers his jacket and pack. The rifle resting on the table from cleaning it most of the early hours of the morning - and not spent in bed with you - is swept up in his hands.

He hasn't touched me in so long…

He must have observed your realisations no doubt, surely the man cannot be so blind to the plight and tension you feel when you're under his nose?

And if he took pleasure in seeing your mind switch back and forth from an aurora of amplified emotions, he certainly hid it fucking well from you.

Joel turns to you before he disappears outside the door. You cling onto a desperate hope for a moment that he’ll leave something soft to accompany you; give you some affirmative reassurance and confirm that your stupidity, is in fact, that.

But he doesn’t.

He simply shuts the door behind him and leaves you floundering. Your eyes prickle, but the tears don’t fall.

You’ve cried enough now over Joel Miller.

Your birthday arrives, the dawn spent waking up in the bed alone without Joel’s warmth suffocating you; his tan skin sticking you to him.

You can't remember the last time he was inside you. A part of you.

Despite wanting to indulge in dysania, to sink into a despair that's been riding shotgun with you for a while, you will yourself up to continue with the monotony.

The day is spent as though meandering through a blur, your body robotically doing the things you’re supposed to, but your mind not being fully coherent.

Get up, eat a little something bland, exist… and so on. It's just another day. You don't even know why you expected anything different. You're foolish for even thinking it.

Your brain ticks continuously whilst your limbs belong to those of the infected that try to ravage you any chance they get beyond the walls of the QZ.

But what about those unanswered questions and coincidences floating around the apartment and jabbing you in the temple?

Joel’s disappearing acts and seeing him weary and more dishevelled when he did eventually reappear again? It's difficult to accept that you're replaceable. That the space you once fit in has been filled by something else.

Someone else, perhaps?

Your stomach lurches and you barely make it to the bathroom before you bring up all your fears and watch in numb disgust as they flush away. Piecing it all together to make any sense is a doom filled thought.

You're tired. You've had enough. You only succeed in confusing yourself further and are rewarded with a brewing migraine. And as you throw yourself onto the bed to get some rest to quell the ache behind your eyelids, you conclude that you now utterly despise birthdays.

Confronting him has to be the only option, but bravery’s lost to you; hidden away under the dank comforter, pulled up tight over its head, refusing to surface.

You're in the shower later that evening, washing away the day, when Joel returns from the scouting run.

You hear the sounds of the door rattle and his heavy sighs, even over the water flooding your ears.

But as you come out, hair dripping down your shoulders, he’s already left abruptly again, sealing you in with once more the claws of your festive loneliness.

You make you both some supper. A few cans he’d left on the table with peeling stickers and some without. The smell turns your stomach as you stare down at two plates of uneaten food that had long since gone cold and wonder how the fuck you've got here.

It's late when he comes back, startled somewhat to find you still sitting at the table. Glancing down at the food, his eyes soften and then they find yours, vacuous and empty.

You're not even pissed at him anymore.

Before he acknowledges you, you freeze momentarily and can’t abnegate yourself from looking at him, as much as you want to avoid it. But each time you falter, his hatchet eyes are staring right back at you, sending prickles all down your back.

The comprehension is a difficult task itself, but you're fruitless in your attempt to disentangle it all, even if you aren't going to be the victor in this battle that you're bound to lose.

You're going to lose him.

Perhaps you already have. You want to remember his face, so you take it all in as he hovers by the door; a large hand twisting and groping at the knob unconsciously as it squeaks around the crush of it, a nervous tick.

He’s anxious, worried. He wants this to be quick and painless. As do you.

Even if Joel has completely no idea what's been happening, surely he had to know how this situation cuts you open, how you're bleeding onto the floor.

How can he not see it?

You feel no animosity towards him at this precise moment, which confuses you further, but more of a sense of intrusion. You aren't ready for this now that he's actually here.

Joel's reaction is unguarded and you can see him looking at you, somewhat askance, around the crinkled edges of his eyes. You soften a little and let him have a final smile from you.

Something for him to remember you by.

“I have somethin’ I wanna show ya.” He says, quietly to you.

You look at him carefully as you baulk.

“What is it?” You question, suspiciously.

“Just… c'mon.” He holds out his hand, an olive branch, and you stand.

You don't take it as you follow him out into the scabby hall where the wallpaper peels and the carpet still has that burnt umber stain of blood from decades ago.

He leads you towards the stairway, heading up them and you follow, still confused.

Once you reach the top floor of the building, and the door that leads out onto the roof, Joel slightly out of breath as he rests for a second, he instructs you to close your eyes.

“Keep ‘em closed.” He murmurs to you and you feel his hand inside yours now.

Skin on skin. It makes you audibly gasp at the warmth of his touch and you remember how he feels as it tugs the remaining strangled beats out of your heart.

Joel’s hands are always warm, even if he wields death about so freely with them. You feel his grip tighten in yours, guiding you down the stone steps out onto the roof where the cool air of the dark autumnal night pierces through your thin, moth-eaten sweater.

“You’re not planning on pushing me off the roof, are you?” You snicker. But it would be a kindness, considering.

You have your other arm out in front, feeling your way, blindly.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Joel mutters. There’s a smile inside of his words; you can hear it, although his tone is hard like granite. You miss that smile.

Your feet are clumsy as you step and you wobble.

“I got ya.” He steadies you, his other hand on your hip and the feel of it makes your skin burn up in a corona. It strips you of your breath.

He stops and lets go of you completely after a few more steps.

“Y’can open ‘em now.” Joel whispers to you. You can feel his breath against your ear and it leaves you feeling warm despite the nip in their air at the new altitude on the roof.

Despite the fact that you're slowly dying.

You take a breath. A slow breath to steady your nerves. You're not sure you're ready for it. Perhaps if you can keep them closed, it will never happen.

You won't have to watch him walk away.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when you finally open them, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

But it's anything but. It stuns you.

The roof is lit with candles; hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand there's so many. All various sizes, thicknesses, colours and in different states of burn, casting eerie, yet brilliant shadows across the brick walls.

They trail all the way across the rooftop towards you. Flickering in the gentle night’s breeze, it invokes an immediate tranquil state within you, and the warmth emanating from this gloaming wonder is enough to stop the prickles on your skin almost instantly.

"Joel..." you murmer, perplexed.

It must have taken him ages to set this up, and you’re momentarily lost for words in the confusion that makes itself known at the back of your throat in dumb astonishment.

Joel watches as you walk amongst them, slowly taking it all in and holding your palms out to feel their warmth kissing at your fingertips.

The surprise and wonder spreads out on your face as you turn back to him in wordless disbelief.

“Made it with a few seconds to spare.” He glances at his watch, then realises it’s still broken, still a constant, crushing reminder strapped to his wrist, and then beholds you with a crooked smile melting away.

You look back at him, with a frown starting to topple your awe.

“Ya thought I forgot,” Joel confirms.

You shake your head. “No. Just thought you didn’t care about it, is all.”

He steps forward to you, the flames flickering all around you both. “I care 'bout you.”

You feel your heart stop beating for a second. “You didn’t have to do this...”

“I wanted to. I know m'a grouch and-”

“Joel. Stop talking.” The low timbre of his voice jars you. It's gentle in its gruffness. And it’s too much as your eyes well up without your control, without your say so.

“Hey,” he turns your head to him, to face him head on. His thumbs smoothing across your cheeks as you grip onto his thick wrists.

“I thought-”

“I know what ya thought. S’not gonna happen, okay?” He says earnestly and for the first time in what feels like a long time, Joel pulls those inane fears out of you and stamps on them until they’re all dead.

You nod, sniffing the tears back with all your might, but they fall in your stringent relief anyway.

“C’mere,” he crushes you into his stacked chest, the soft ebb of his heartbeat the only sound you can hear as it clears out the dusty crevices of your mind.

You pull away to marvel and feel the balminess from the candles all over your body.

“See, it’s things like this that make me believe you’re human after all,” you whisper in complete awe.

He frowns. “Ya wrong ‘bout that.”

You scoff. “Are you kidding me? Look at this, Joel. At what you did, for me. It’s... amazing. Are you seriously going to tell me that a monster would do that for someone, because I don’t believe that?”

He can see the reflection of a thousand or so candles in your eyes, twinkling back at him like glitter.

After being lost in them momentarily, he rubs up and down your arms with his hands.

“Y'don’t believe in monsters, do ya? Even when the world's full of 'em?” He questions carefully.

“Not in the slightest. People are just people.” You reply. Although some of them admittedly more fucked up than others.

“What 'bout people who do bad things?”

You look at him sincerely. And it makes more sense now. There's still a wall there. “They’re still people.”

Joel absorbs your answer, the answer you always give him when he gets like this. When he needs you to convince him there's still good in the world, because you're good.

When he feels unworthy.

“D’you believe that a man can ever be changed of his ways?” Joel asks.

“People can always change, if they really want to. Why?”

“Hypothetical question.” He replies, quickly.

“Do you really believe that you’re a monster, Joel?” You ask him carefully.

You watch as he kicks up a piece of grit on the ground repeatedly, unsure of whether he'd heard you at first.

“Y’don’t," he begins and makes his way back after losing it for a second. "Y'don't make me feel like one.” He mutters with rust in his throat.

You take his hands, those giant, calloused paws inside your own and squeeze them until he can’t feel them anymore.

He looks at you, and it bothers him more than it should do - more than he would have liked it to - the thought of you at home alone, especially on your birthday, thinking that he was going to leave you as he was filling his pack full of all the candles he could scavenge in and around the QZ.

Months of planning and keeping this from you, and you thought he was going to say goodbye. Surely that's monstrous, for him to have allowed it to get so bad.

He failed you. He made you feel unworthy. And that doesn't sit right with Joel Miller.

He watches as you stare a while at the candles, flickering in the night’s air with the inviting sound of silence to accompany you both.

No thrashing heartbeat, no thudding of blood pulsing in your ears. No static.

Just a strange peace, which has seemingly gorged on all the confusion, all the angst and fears that had been mounting within you for so long.

He goes to speak, clears his throat of the block, and then chokes on his words as he tries to assimilate them together into something coherent, something meaningful.

You turn to him sensing his unease and it equally fascinates and infuriates him that you can do that; that you can put him at ease to get them out without sounding like a bumbling fool.

You sense that what he wants to say will be relevant and would give you what you need, but you never expect him to say, in all your remotest dreams or fears:

“I love ya.”

He’s known it for a while. Felt that this was more than just two people surviving and fucking together through the dark nights to feel anything more than just pain and existing.

Joel had poked his head in the bathroom one evening, watching as you’d showered after a rough day and a close call; your body mottled with dirt and bruises and he’d felt it then.

That overpowering need to protect you. To keep the bad things at bay, even if that meant he had to do some bad things in exchange. His soul was a fair price to trade to keep you by his side. And what's love, if it's not protection?

Helping you out with a towel ready for you, bubbles splodged all up your back and glistening at him, he realised that perhaps he was falling in love with you.

He didn't want to be in love with you though. He wanted to keep you at bay, to not let you in under the layers of his skin. Not let you unravel what was left of him; a small thread wound so close to the spool.

Love would make protecting you that much more difficult.

He was never confident in negotiating all the social interactions that came with dating, especially in this world now. It was foolish to bear your heart because at any point it could be ripped away and eaten.

But with you? His heart was always on his sleeve, soaking it damp in his blood. Whatever this was between you, it felt easy somehow, like breathing.

Joel could finally breathe.

There was no choice in falling for you. And Joel never wanted to make another choice ever again.

You reach up on your tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his mouth; revelling in the feel of his mustache and greying scruff tickling soft at your face.

A feeling that if you never got to experience again, the way it leaves lightning streaking through your blood, would kill you.

You slip your tongue into his mouth and he welcomes you in, squeezing you closer to him and groaning around your taught gums. You lick gently across his bottom lip before taking it in your teeth and pulling deep growls from him.

“M’trying to be a gentleman here, darlin’. But if y’keep doing that, I’m fuckin’ ya up against the wall.”

His breath trips up in his throat and your body soars at his warning as it rolls acrid and sharp off his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to taste his cavities. To taste his promises.

He still wants you, he’ll always want you despite your stupid neuroses.

You bite and suck his lip again deliberately, and he growls.

"Ya leavin' me very little recourse."

“I love you, Joel.” You gasp as your hands grapple and devour him just as hungrily. Breathing out like a balloon losing its helium, you pant and moan for more air; for more of him.

He’s quick, like steam; power marching you backwards and your back hits the brickwork, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

The shadows of the night dance over his hard facial features and he glows ethereal at you from the candlelight illuminating his left side. A constant ying-yang of who he is and you want both sides of him, forever.

You want the distant and the present. You want the soft and the rough. You just want him.

"Say it again" he hisses.

"I love you-"

He silences you with a swamping kiss. Joel’s wilder now; like a rabid dog drooling all over you. His hands are clawing, groping and squeezing.

Quick, desperate fingers stripping you of your jeans and unbuttoning his own at the same time; a messy blur of his hands as you stay glued to his lips and taste the notes of his tongue.

He massages the soft fat of your buttocks, malleable warm flesh in his giant hands as he kneads gently with thumbs that’ll bruise. You can feel his cock pushing hard and swollen against your slit as he moves your ass back and forth, pulling you closer to his body.

Closer to the broken fragments of his soul.

"Joel…" you whine into his mouth with pathetic need, fingers curling into the hair at his nape.

"Tell me what ya want, darlin'." He sucks on your lip and lets it go with a little squelchy pop. Lips and tongue trailing across your jaw and feasting on the skin at your throat.

"You. Always you.” You mewl mesmerised as his cock slides up against your clit; your body flinches like it’s been electrocuted. You’re crashing, falling into him and surrendering. "Need you."

"Want me inside?" He groans as you nod, lost to the heated desire that burns through your body and drips down your thighs.

"Deep. Hard." You plead. You crave his chaos, it's been so long since you tasted it. "I need you."

"I want ya." He groans.

"Have me, fuck me. Joel, just fuck me, please!"

Hungry brown eyes are pulling yours into them as his swollen head delves into your soaked lips. His stretch burns, opening you up for him again. Sliding with ease into the hilt of you, where he ultimately belongs.

"Hear that? Hear how wet ya are for me? God damn..." He teases, pulling you closer by your ass cheeks as his fat cock pushes up inside the tight channel of your cunt.

You hiss as he pulls up your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he hoists you fully up against the wall. The brickwork is rough against your skin, despite the protective layer of your sweater that grazes against it as he starts to pummel.

He loses all control with you. Can never keep his shit together as you unravel him from that spool completely.

"Fuck," you groan, biting down on your lip as he fills you. His breath leaves him in a wheeze and floods your face as he thrusts in and out; marvels at how well you always take him until he’s completely obliterated.

You can feel yourself soaring, higher into the sky as it holds its arms out for you ready to pull you in. Only he knows how to take you to this height, to this place. A place where, for a moment, only you exist, the two of you, on this bleak rooftop, surrounded by decades of carnage.

But it’s all stripped away in his groans and your pants as you feed each other your imbibed love in a world where everything dies.

In a world where physical gifts are pointless and sparse tokens of fleeting affection, he does the next best thing. Joel gives you something that he knows you’ll always want.

He gifts himself to you.

“Ain’t ever leaving ya, y’hear?” He sounds off in your ear through reckless pants and groans that suffocate on the floor below you. “M’here, always here. Fuck!” He spits. "Gonna be inside ya always, darlin'."

You grip onto him, meeting him with every shunt of his hips into yours, feeling him continuously bottom out as the light from the candles start to blind you over his shoulder.

Feeling your mind grow and body start to pull apart. Feeling the wall scuffing and blistering against your flesh and revelling in the delicious masochism it evokes as he fucks you hard agasint it.

Fucks you like he’s never letting you go.

He laments it over and over. And you believe the sincerity.

“Harder.” You beg, your fingers digging into his shoulders; your nails leaving crescent moons indented in his neck.

"Joel, fuck me harder, please. I want it all."

“That’s some big smack talk for a little lady.” He pants with a smirk.

“Joel!” You whine as he speeds up, giving you what you want so wholly and irrevocably. "Fuck! Yes!"

Your howls of insistence are stripped of any sanity or verbosity as you let go fully and gush around his cock, right to the root.

Pumping himself harder into you and hearing you scream, feeling you buck with the pleasure of it all on the end of his cock as you shake and give him the best of yourself. The parts of you that are only for him to keep.

The part where you're completely stripped back and bare, and he can see you. And you're so fucking beautiful.

And it's right there, he can see it, that love you have back for him as your eyes come unstuck from the back of your head and stare into him as you can see all of him; bruised and fleshed with vulnerability.

Watery with relief, with the fading ebbs of your pleasure. The acceptance of this piece of him he's plucked from his chest and plopped in your hands.

And it's his complete undoing.

Joel grunts out your name as he releases, giving you the final pieces of him as he fills you full of his warm, thick spend.

“Fuck…” He drones, your arms tight around the back of his neck as you slip down the wall onto jellied feet.

His hands stay on your hips, cock slippery and poking you in the belly. Sweaty forehead pressed to yours as he tells you he loves you again on a barely there whisper.

You steal another glance round at the candles, their light blinding your retinas and searing this moment into your mind forever.

You kiss him and he kisses back harder, deeper; a man ravaged of affection, yet he still has small, bloodied parts of him left to share with you. Even if it fucking terrifies him.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” Joel whispers.

You don’t need to blow out the candles and make a wish.

You’ve already got everything you want, right here, in your arms.

Thank you so much for reading this lil' birthday fic of mine! 🎉 Re-blogs & comments are always appreciated & fuel me. 🖤

MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#jett's birthday #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fic #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #jett's pedro boys

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r04dk1llx2 · 3 months

Text

Mike Schmidt Headcannons ⋆·˚ ༘ *

This sad little guy has been infecting my brain so badly, take my stupid little headcannons

Tags: NSFW, fem aligned reader, switch!mike, mike being a miserable little guy

SFW:

Mike, who’s hands are constantly clammy for no apparent reason. It deeply embarrasses him but you seem to find it endearing, even better if you’ve got clammy hands too. (self projecting 💪)

Mike, who loves going out for drives with you, even if he has no particular destination in mind. Blasting old rock music or obscure 80’s music, purely so he can hear you sing along.

Mike, who loves to call you a variety of different names. Your his pretty girl, his doll, his dearest. Although he might be too embarrassed to use most petnames, pretty girl seems to be his favorite.

Mike, who brings you and Abby little gifts from his workplace. Even if he may not have the most money, he’ll find ways to give the both of you small things that remind him of you.

Mike, who can’t help but find dumb little excuses to hold your hands. Comparing hand sizes? His hands are cold? No, he just wants to feel your hands intertwined with his, something about that feeling brings him a sense of comfort.

Mike, who adores the way you treat Abby, just watching you play with her and talk to her, the way you spoke to her so softly, or the way you’d always cheer her up when Mike couldn’t. He loves how motherly you can be, how well you treat him and his sister.

Mike, who’s prone to outbursts of anger, usually fueled by his past. He’s not very vocal about his anger, but you can definitely tell just based on his demeanor that he’s upset. The way his jaw ticks, the way his brows knit together, the way his eyes become 10x more intense. It’s intimidating, but he’s got you to calm him down.

Mike, who loves watching movies with you, something about just bonding over something as mundane as a movie has always cheered him up. Plus, in the comfort of his own home? Even better. Cheesy horror films or comedy films are his favorites, he loves getting to make fun of the movies alongside you.

Mike, who loves coming home after work to sleep beside you, carefully wrapping his arms around you. He loves the feeling of having someone he loves feel comfortable enough to sleep around him, it makes him feel safe and genuinely loved. Just having your body against his, and feeling the warmth of you beside him, was always able to instantly put him to sleep. No medication needed.

Mike, who always catches himself staring at you, completely entranced by you. He gets flustered so easily when you notice, immediately apologizing and looking down at his hands in an attempt to avoid eye contact, just for you to reassure him that everything’s alright and that you’d honestly enjoyed it.

NSFW under cut, proceed with caution.

NSFW:

Mike, who’s 100% a switch, he can go from a soft and caring dom to a whiny whimpering sub in mere seconds.

Mike, who’s got a major somnophilia kink, he loves when you “take care of him” while he’s having nightmares. Peppering soft kisses along his neck while he jolts in his sleep, slowly jerking him off as he lets out quiet moans. Only for him to wake up to you bouncing on his cock, desperately reciting his name as he finishes inside you.

Mike, who’s an exceptional brat tamer. Although typically a patient man, if you test him too much he would have no problem throwing you over his shoulder and taking you to his room, just for him to fuck all of the stubbornness out of you.

Mike, who will quite literally beg to eat you out, there’s something about watching your reactions as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, gently rubbing your clit with his free hand while the other holds your thighs apart. It turns him on so much, to the point where that alone will make him cum in his boxers.

Mike, who praises you every chance he gets, his pretty girl deserves nothing less. Whispering quiet praises into your ear as he rails you from behind, something along the lines of “Atta girl, doin’ so good f’me, jus’ a little longer-” before burying his head into the crook of your neck, hips bucking feverishly into you. Even while being on bottom, he can’t help but praise every little touch you give him.

Mike, who is so loud in bed, he physically cannot contain himself. Even the slightest touch will turn this man into a complete mess, whining and begging for more. You’ve considered buying a gag for him, purely due to Abby still living alongside you both, but you can’t help but love the noises he makes, sometimes he just needs something to bite down on to stifle his moans.

Mike, who has a tendency to steal your clothes just because they smell like you. Something about your scent drives him wild, to the point where he can’t help but jerk off just because of the smell. He hopes you’ll never notice the bite marks or barely visible stains littering some of your clothes, but at the same time, would never be opposed to you catching him, desperately humping a pillow, his teeth clenched down on an old hoodie of yours as he unloads into his hand.

Mike, who’s a god when it comes to aftercare. He’ll do all he can to make sure you feel comfortable, constantly checking in on you, wiping down your inner thighs with a warm towel after cumming inside you, bringing you a glass of water and a t-shirt of his until you both shower together. If your hurting, he’ll run you a bath, epsom salt and all. If your tired, no problem, he’ll hold you until you fall asleep, putting on one of your favorite movies in the background just to make sure you feel safe. There is nothing this man won’t do to keep you feeling good.

Apologies for the potentially bad writing- I’m an artist, not a writer. But, if you like what you see, feel free to send me some requests for future fics with Mike. I have a lot more planned with the silly little guy <33

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #jhutch1992 #fnaf mike #fnaf mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike fnaf #mike schimdt smut #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #fnaf 2023 #fnaf film

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 3 months

Text

we're in love - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys not dead just played a LOT of baldurs gate over break and now im back ay college with matt murdock brainrot this ones been floating around the old noggin a while. sorry. likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: DEAD DOVE with a happy ending, hard of hearing reader, cannon typical marvel violence, probably badly written violence, matt being upset, once again im tired and sleepy and bad at doing warnings, reader gets kidnapped TWICE, reader has superpowers, reader is TECHNICALLY a hybrid but literally just in the way that she has small antlers and deer like abilities (strength, jump height), fucked up experiments, ANGST ANGST ANGST, memory loss trope but like... the one from the hunger games. matt is hopelessly in love with reader, reader wants to kill matt, kissing, implied sexual ideas, cursing. SHAMELESS USE OF REAL OR NOT REAL FROM THG, reader having anxiety, and allusions of sex. word count: 7.1k summary: when your past finally catches up to you, matt truly learns what 'in sickness and in health' means. pairing: matt murdock x hoh!wife!reader now playing: we're in love - boygenius "will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/i know what you'll say/but it helps to hear you say it anyway."

Falling in love with Matt Murdock was the easy part.

Falling back in love with him was the tough bit.

You had spent the years leading up to meeting him as a boxer turned vigilante— Your dad had taught you how to fight young, which led to a lot of trouble at school until he eventually started helping you enter teenage fights against your mom’s wishes.

It’s how you paid for college.

And then, after your college experience, you lose control. It was never supposed to happen the way it did. You had lost a fight and stole the guy’s motorcycle in defiance. But the roads were wet from an early snow and people of New York never knew how to drive.

Just like that, the nerves in your hands were shot. The accident got your hearing too since you got sick from the cold after your accident. The infection got so bad that it took the hearing from your left ear—And half from your right.

For months, you thought you’d never gain control of your hands again, snapping from a promising young fighter to a deaf and shaky temp. You were miserable. Fighting was your everything for so long.

And then The Doctor found you.

No, not the alien from the British television show, but a man who promised you your old life back. He found you while you were at your lowest and realized that you would do anything for your old life back.

He said in exchange for your old life, all you would have to do would be a test subject for a harmless new drug he was testing out.

You were so enamored by the idea of your old life that you had decided to take him up on his offer, so you were whisked away upstate with a group of other people desperate enough to try this experiment out.

Every morning you were given a shot of blue liquid into your arm, and then, you were to preform a series of tasks to record your progress. After three weeks you grew frustrated that you had seen no progress. You spent most of your time asking people to talk into your right ear and becoming mad at The Doctor.

About a month in, you started growing antlers.

At first, you freaked out. Like, truly, screamed and yelled, wanting an explanation. The Doctor celebrated, telling you this was great news—And to prove it, he had you pick up a pen and write a sentence out. Your hands didn’t shake and did everything you told them to do.

On top of the antlers and the newfound control of your nerves, you were strong—Fast, too. You could jump twelve-foot walls. The Doctor was obsessed with you. While other patients died off from whatever drugs you were being given, you were thriving.

At the end of your three-month stay, you were excited to leave and head back to your life. You’d just have to wear beanies everywhere to hide your antlers, you told yourself. A small price to pay.

But The Doctor wouldn’t let you leave.

How could he, he asked you, when you were his best test subject?

Being a prisoner was a lot worse than you thought it would be. Day in and day out, you were trained to be a soldier, you think. Fighting various guards, doing different athletic tests. The serum hadn’t fixed your hearing, but it had given you all of these gifts.

Until The Doctor became cruel.

He gave the guards these batons that had shock currents at the end of them, instructing them to use it whenever you talked back or underperformed. For months you struggled through days of electric shocks and experiments.

One night, a guard slipped into your cell, expecting you to be an easy target. You quickly showed him differently, knocking him out and stealing his weapons. And then, you ran. You ran until your feet bled—No shoes.

An old woman who had retired upstate welcomed you into her small cabin and fed you, never asking about the small antlers growing out of your head. She simply gave you a warm knit cap and a pair of boots for the cold.

You remember eating chili with her as she told you about her deceased husband. You changed your last name to theirs, knowing The Doctor would find you if you kept going by your name. You stayed with her for a weekend, coming back from gathering firewood to The Doctor’s men there, having killed the kind old woman and on the hunt for you. You stole her car and never looked back.

The next few weeks after that had been full of killing various soldiers and armies that The Doctor had sent after you, until you eventually pushed The Doctor off a building, believing to have killed him for good.

And that was that.

You went on with your life as usual, finding a permanent job as a secretary. In a law office.

Which, of course, is where you met Matt.

With Matt, you never felt the need to hide who you were. Of course, it was a lot easier to tell him that some mad scientist had infected you with a drug that turned you into a deer hybrid when he told you that he was Daredevil.

And with time, some of the effects of the serum began to fizzle out. Strength, Agility, Antlers—Those stayed. The control over your hands didn’t. But you made peace with that. Physical Therapy twice a week and hearing aids helped.

Especially because early Sunday mornings were filled with Matt running his fingers through your hair, running his pointer finger along the curves of your antlers. He takes your hands and kisses your fingertips as they shake, hushing you softly when you start crying as he does.

He spars with you and spends nights running around New York City with you, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

He tells you about Elektra, Stick, his dad, and Fisk.

One day, when you feel safe enough, wrapped up in his arms and a layer of blankets as snow falls against the windows, you tell him about The Doctor. You explain to him your nightmares, and why they will never go away.

He kisses away your tears and promises he’ll never let anything happen to you.

When he asks you to marry him, you don’t hesitate to say yes. There’s not a moment where you regret that decision. You insist to get married in the summer, during the short month where your antlers shed before they grow back. He agrees happily, just wanting you to be happy.

You’ve been married for about five months when you start to think about kids. You’ve been married six when you realize the worst possible scenario is your reality—When vials of blue serum show up at your front door with a note scribbled out—

‘My Best Test Subject,

I cannot wait to catch up with you soon.

-The Doctor’

You call Matt in a panic, begging him to come home and be with you. He obliges and holds you as you calm down. He promised to love you in sickness and in health, and that is what he fully intends to do.

This is the story of the greatest challenge that your marriage would face.

• • •

After the note you had received, you almost exclusively traveled with Matt. Even for just a casual stroll, a walk to the deli or home from work, He was there with you. He knew you could handle yourself, but you felt safer with him close by.

But Matt’s senses were never as focused when it rained, especially on nights like today. The rain pours, it almost stings against his skin. And it’s loud. You don’t have your hearing aids in, so they catch you both by surprise.

It all happens too fast—

In an instant, Matt is being pulled off your arm and slammed against the closest brick alley, and when he hears the click of a gun behind him, he realizes what’s happening. He tries to fight, but before he can make any process, someone is swinging that gun against his head, and when he wakes up, he’s all alone.

He calls out to you and gets no response other than thunder rumbling from miles away. He is filled with nothing but a rage, a determination to find you.

He scrambles for his phone and uses it to call Karen.

“I need you to get Frank.” He tells her, “Please. I.. I don’t know what happened, but.. He took her, I need.. Karen, I need to find her.” He tells her.

Frank is on his way to New York within the hour.

• • •

When you wake up, your arms are strapped behind your back in some sort of metal contraption. You can feel the ache in your hands, indicating that you had fought against whoever brought you here. The room is quiet. A small cot in one corner, but the rest of the room is barren.

You’re wearing white pants and a gray muscle tee, with no shoes. You’re suddenly thankful you left your wedding ring at home, so that it might not end up in his hands.

You wait a while, and then the door opens. The Doctor, flanked by two men in heavy armor, holding those batons you’re all too acquainted with, steps into the room. You simply stare, but The Doctor looks like a child on Christmas morning.

But there’s something else to his appearance. His left eye is this bright yellow, and his pupil is a different shape. Green scales travel up his neck and coat the bottom right half of his face, and down his arms, reaching his fingertips. He looks like a monster, but you quickly realize what has happened.

Whatever serum gave you your abilities, was given to him. Only, his was made from that of snakes, not deer.

“My beautiful creation!” He gasps and takes your face in his hand, planting a kiss to your head, right between your antlers. “It’s been too long, you know.” His ‘s’ sounds are elongated, and his teeth are sharper. He has become destroyed by his own mad endeavors. When you don’t respond to his greeting, he continues to speak. “It’s been an eventful few years for you, huh?” When this doesn’t get a response from you, he stands up straight and backs up just a foot. “New job, new name… New husband.” Your head snaps up at that. “What? You think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you and the boy? What do you call him, then? Matthew or Daredevil?”

Your eyes grow wide, unsure how he knows about your husband’s secret hobby.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spit, your gaze hardening into a glare.

“Don’t I? You make quite the couple. The little deaf doe and her crime fighting blind husband.” He laughs, “And they say I like a project.”

“You won’t touch him or I swear to god—”

“Little doe, you misunderstand. I want nothing to do with your husband. I just want you to be the good subject I know you can be.” He tells you. “You and I are the only of our kind. I want to study you, replicate you.”

“You’re going to kidnap more people.”

“You weren’t kidnapped, you volunteered.”

“I won’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” You tell him. “I don’t care, I will escape, I will kill you.”

He shakes his head, taking one of the batons from the guards, before hitting you across the face with it. You groan in pain, turning your head back to glare at him. He sighs.

“I didn’t want to have to do this. But I did anticipate that Husband of yours interrupting things.” He hands the baton back to the guard before telling him. “Take her down the hall and get her ready, alright?”

You struggle your way down the hall, refusing to do whatever is coming to you without a fight. When the guards uncuff you to strap you to this big dentist looking chair, you manage to get out of the grasp of the guard, swinging a punch on him but this newfound advantage is short lived, as the other guard quickly grabs your arms and pushes you against the chair. You’re yelling and thrashing but they manage to get your arms and legs strapped down to the chair.

Your heartbeat is racing, and quietly, only in your mind, you beg. But not for mercy. Not from The Doctor. You beg Matt to come find you. Because you know that you do not stand a chance on your own, but maybe he could find you. He had to find you.

The Doctor sits in a chair next to you and holds up a small purple vial.

“This is hallucinogenic snake venom, mixed with a duller version of the serum we gave you. What this will do is allow me to go into your memories and alter them.” He explains as if you’re getting a simple procedure done. Tears fill your eyes.

“You’re going to make me forget him?” You ask, your voice breaking.

The Doctor hushes you softly, wiping your tears softly.

“Oh, no, little doe. I’m going to change what you do remember about him to make you hate him.”

• • •

Six months is a long time to be without your wife. For anyone, no matter who it is.

For Matt Murdock, it’s absolute torture. He spends all day half paying attention to his work while trying to research who The Doctor is. He spends all night trying to find you.

Frank lives, breathes, eats and sleeps to find you. He’s still technically a wanted man, so he pretty much stays under the radar as he looks for you. You remind him of a lot of guys he knew in the army, of himself.

Karen busies herself with research, looking through cases of old files at The Bulletin to try and see if there are any tips or stories that could maybe be connected to where you are. She gets about as little sleep as Matt.

And Foggy has the most important job of all.

Making sure Matt doesn’t kill himself in the process of trying to find you. Because for the first two months Matt didn’t sleep, hardly ate. And as he deteriorated, Foggy reminded him that to find you, he’d need to stay alive. He needs to shower, he needs to keep going to church, he needs to keep eating. The thought of hearing your heartbeat again keeps him going.

It’s as they’re packing up to go home one night that Frank comes into the office with blood-stained hands. They all know he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something, so Karen asks first.

“What? What is it?”

“Buddy of mine found a file. Some private medicinal corporation funding a project for some sort of doctor doing cancer research, upstate.”

The location peaks Matt’s interest, because one of the few things he knows of your first experience is that the lab was in upstate New York.

“Okay, but—” Karen starts, but Frank hands her the file.

“Report shows the guy had scales.” He told her. “And I don’t know what you guys make of that but sounds to me like a side effect similar to the serum that was given to her.”

“Where?” Matt asks.

“Red, just—”

“Give me a god damn address, Frank.” He demands.

“I’ll drive you. Come on, things are probably gonna get wild and I don’t want you going alone.” He told him. Matt agrees, but only because he knows he can’t drive and would wind up walking to you.

“Then let’s go.” Before Frank can argue, Matt is walking out the door and going to get suited up for the journey ahead.

• • •

Daredevil is my enemy.

Matt Murdock hates me.

I hate him.

We were never really in love with each other.

These are the thoughts that echo through your mind as you wait for your next round of testing. The six-month mark is pivotal, The Doctor tells you time and time again.

Overall, you’ve made tremendous progress. He tells you that within weeks, other serums will be ready to test on new subjects. Maybe then, he tells you, he’ll promote you from just being a soldier.

Maybe.

You almost don’t hear the alarm going off somewhere in the distance. Of course, you don’t. The serum has never helped your hearing.

The way you remember it, Daredevil, a man who once claimed to love you, fought you to the point that he destroyed the nerves in your hands, destroyed your hearing. It’s fuzzy now, but you know this: The Doctor helped you. He put you back together.

But you do hear the alarm, eventually. It concerns you; it means someone has broken into the building. Your thoughts linger on the masked vigilante that haunts your nightmare. You’re getting stronger to defeat him, The Doctor says.

It’s a cool summer night when whoever it is broke in, breaks down your door. You immediately stand, quickly identifying Frank Castle, a grin breaking across your face. Closely behind, you identify a man in red.

Your heartbeat races, but you just stare at the pair.

Matt strips off his helmet and approaches you, wanting to make sure this was real. That you were real. His hands find your cheeks, and tears fill his eyes. He says your name gently.

“I found you, I’ve got you…”

You blink, unsure of what sort of cruel teasing that was.

Because in an instant, your glare hardens and you’re pushing him against a wall, starting to throw punches at him. He’s too far in shock to react, but Frank is pulling you off of him, and you’re struggling against him.

“Let me go! I need to kill him! He’s evil, he needs to die!” You cry, and Matt is just saying your name softly, in absolute disarray. What had they done to you, his sweet girl?

Frank pins you down to the ground, unsure of why you, a woman he had perceived to be so in love with the man behind him, are so adamant that he dies.

“Enough, Enough!” He barks, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at Matt. “That is your husband, girl. Stop acting like he’s torturing you when he is not the one whose been experimenting on you for six months!”

“Let me go, I need him gone! He’s cruel, He’s a monster!” You cry, and Matt has started crying. Putting you both out of your misery, Frank hits you in a way that knocks you right out. Matt goes over to your now unconscious form and pets your hair.

“Why was she—”

“I don’t know.. I just don’t know, red. Let’s get her out of here to figure it out, okay?” Matt just nods and grabs his helmet, slipping it on so Frank can’t see him crying anymore.

• • •

If you had a nickel for every time you woke up tied to a chair, you’d have more nickels than you had fingers.

Today is no different.

You’re surrounded by people you don’t recognize. And one you do. Your angry glare stays on him, and he looks upset by it.

You’re unsure why. You’re so sure he just wanted you dead.

The blonde woman in front of you says your name softly. When your gaze shifts to her, you notice her soft eyes.

“How do you know my name?” You ask.

She frowns.

“It—Because we’re good friends.”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t… My name is Karen.” She says softly. She goes over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a picture frame and showing it to you. “Here, that’s you and me. At your wedding.”

“My wedding? The one that he set up just to hurt me?”

Matt remembers you telling him that you had never been happier than when you were getting ready for your wedding.

There’s two other men, one held you down while you were meant to kill Matt, but the other one.. You vaguely remember him standing next to Matt when you got married.

He speaks next.

“Matt and Frank, they found these vials in one of the labs. We think the man that took you used it to... to alter your memories.”

“Why would The Doctor do that? He helped me.” You tell them, unsure what to make of this whole situation. Matt is growing extremely frustrated because he knows just how scared you were of that monster.

“Untie her.” Matt tells Frank, and everyone looks at him like he’s crazy. Including you because you know that you’ll just try and kill him. “Do it,” he tells him again and very hesitantly, Frank does untie you. When you’re free from the rope, you step forward to go towards Matt, but Frank grabs your arm.

“Don’t,” he says. But then, Matt reaches for Frank’s gun on the nearby table and hands it to you. Odd choice for a man you want to kill.

“Go ahead.” He tells you, facing you now. “Shoot me, kill me if that’s what you really want to do.” He says. You stare at the gun in your hand for a second, before holding it properly and aiming it at Matt. Everyone waits with bated breath to see what you’ll do.

Pull the trigger, you tell yourself, The Doctor’s voice echoing around your head. He hurt you, the voice says. He needs to die.

And yet, you just stare at the man on the other end of the gun, trying to build up the courage to kill him. To kill the man that for months you have been taught needs to die. That you have memories of hurting you, of maiming you.

Your hand tremors as tears fill your eyes, until you eventually drop your arm, so the gun isn’t pointing at him anymore.

“Look at the photo of you and Karen,” Matt tells you, “You have hearing aids in the photo. I didn’t do that to you, you got into a bad accident, you got sick and that’s how you lost your hearing. I had nothing to do with that. You even had your powers before me, you didn’t just get them in the past six months. The Doctor is an evil man who just wanted to torture people and turn them into science experiments.” He tells you, and you want to tell him to stop, that it’s not true. But something in you tells you not to. “I love you,” he says gently, and you flinch away from him when he says this.

It breaks his heart into a million pieces. Absolutely shatters it.

“I don’t know you.” You tell him.

Sensing that Matt doesn’t know what to say to that, Frank steps forward.

“Hey. I’m Frank, you remember me?”

“You pinned me down when you found me.” He sighs softly.

“Yeah, well.. You have memories of when the two of you got married, right? So those are real memories… What about the ones of him hurting you? Do they look any different?”

You take a moment to close your eyes and really focus on the memory you have so closely attached to the man in red. They’re.. Filmy. Like they have a filter on them or like glass shimmering in the sun.

Tears fall from your eyes as you open them, your hand quickly coming up to wipe your tears.

“I think we did enough for now.. She needs to rest.” The man whose name you don’t know, but he has this shaggy blonde hair. Then this question comes up in everyone’s mind—Where will you stay?

“I’ll take the couch,” Matt says, “You take the bed.” You don’t know how comfortable you are with being alone with Matt in this apartment, even if the memories are fake. They feel pretty real.

“I don’t know if—” Karen starts.

“I.. It’s fine..” you say softly, and that fills Matt with a fraction of hope. “It’s just over night.”

Frank sighs softly, taking his gun off the table and glancing at Matt.

“We’re only a phone call away, alright?” Karen tells him.

It feels sort of awkward that they only talk to him as if you can’t hear them. Well, you can’t hear them very well, but you can hear.

“There’s clothes for you in the bedroom,” Matt tells you, “Go take a shower and I’ll walk them to the door.” Very reluctant to turn your back on Matt, you make your way to the bedroom to gather your clothes and go to shower.

You really haven’t had a good shower in six months, so it’s nice to wash the dirt off your skin and from beneath your fingernails. You spend a long time under the hot shower, letting it burn your skin. Your whole life has been turned upside down because you’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Matt Murdock isn’t your sworn enemy, and that maybe.. he just.. does like you..

Meanwhile, Matt walks the others out, or at least to the door, hesitant to go too far from you.

Foggy glances back to him before he leaves, curiously.

“How did you know she wouldn’t shoot you?”

He hesitates.

“I didn’t.” he says softly. “I just trusted that somewhere within her, my wife still loves me.”

• • •

Later that night, you stare out the window of his apartment at that bright billboard. You gaze at it curiously, and hear Matt call your name gently behind you. In his hands, he holds your hearing aids.

You put them on, and just look at him for a few minutes.

“You kept them?”

“I never stopped looking for you..” He told you. “I prayed every night hoping to hear your heartbeat again.” He tells you, and you don’t know what to make of it. He seems so devoted to you, yet you have these memories of him beating you until you’re close to death.

“I’m sorry I can’t be in love with you the way you want me to be.”

He shrugs gently.

“In sickness and in health, right?”

“And in torture and memory alteration.”

“Same thing.”

For the first time in six months, you smile.

Maybe your husband isn’t such a bad guy.

You can only hope he’ll love you long enough for you to get your shit together and not want to kill him anymore.

• • •

Memories are a tricky thing.

You decide to spend your days with Frank, hunting down various people who worked with The Doctor. You talk a lot about your memories with him. And no matter what, at the end of the day, you have dinner with Matt.

One night, he brings home Thai Food.

“We had this for our first date,” he recalls. “You got pad Thai, your favorite.” You try to recall the memory.

“You wore a nice blue button up, right?” You say softly. He smiles gently and nods.

“Yeah. I did.” He says gently.

“Can..” You hesitate. “Can you tell me more about it? Our life together? I can’t.. discern between what’s real and fabricated.” You’re making new memories, sure, but you know he misses the life the two of you had together.

But he’s caught off guard by your request. For the past few weeks, you’ve been hesitant to indulge in any memories you think might be real.

“You used to work for me.” He tells you. “Not in a weird way, but our office is small. We fell in love over Thai food and opening statements.”

“Why did you want to marry me?”

He hesitates for a second, not wanting to scare you off.

“Because I love you.” He tells you. “Because when you were with me, it was the closest thing I’d ever knew to peace.” He confesses.

“Oh..”

“Yeah.” He takes another bite of his food. “You know if you have a memory and you don’t know if it’s real, you can always ask.”

You smile softly.

“Thanks.” There’s a soft silence that fills the room before you ask, “I have this memory of us in bed, with you running your hand through my hair.. Your fingers tracing these antlers I have.. Is that real?”

“Yeah, it is..” He promised. “I have a thing about textures and your hair is soft.”

“I’m glad.” You smile. This is nice. This gentleness that’s between you. It’s a softness you aren’t used to, one that you don’t know if you’d ever quite get used to.

Later that night, when you were meant to be fast asleep, you wake up with a startling gasp in bed. You look around panicked. You don’t quite know who you’re looking for..

Until Matt comes into the room, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and this calmness washes over you.

“Yeah..”

“Okay. Okay, good, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” He says softly. He’s been so good to you, sleeping on the couch for so many weeks. He goes to leave, but you call out to him. He turns back to you.

“Can you stay with me?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course.” He says softly, climbing into bed with you. You think for a second, before shifting a bit, resting your head against his chest. You listen to the gentle thud of his heartbeat, as his hand finds your back, gently rubbing up and down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He isn’t dumb—He knows you have nightmares. And that on the nights that you do, you’re quieter and more avoidant of him. It’s a bad habit, one you want to break. Because you recognize that your dreams aren’t real.

Matt has never done anything to you, and you’re sure of this.. For the most part. Sometimes when you wake up, you must reorient yourself and remind yourself that Matt has no malicious intent towards you and no reason to hurt you.

But it takes you a few minutes to accomplish this. On those mornings, you tend to keep your distance from him, and because Matt wants nothing but your happiness, he stays away from you. But tea is always placed in front of you, and he never strays far from you.

“Not really.” You finally answer. There’s another beat of silence. “We went as the couple from The Princess Bride for our first Halloween together.. Real or not real?”

“Real.” He confirms.

“You broke my nose once during an argument. Real or not real?”

“Not real.” He tells you. “I would never hurt you. Even when we used to fight at the gym, it was always for practice, never to do actual damage. And when we would spar, it would always end with us going home and taking a hot bath.”

You close your eyes, trying to recall that particular memory. When you find it, your face flushes with this unfamiliar heat.

“You’re still trying to protect me even though I wanted you dead... Real or not real?”

“Real.” He doesn’t even hesitate. He’s not sure if you’ve realized it yet, but he’d rather die than put you anywhere close to being in danger. His hand continues to trace patterns into your skin, as you think about his response.

You fall asleep like this, close to the man who you’re realizing has never intended to hurt you a day in your life.

• • •

The day you realize you’re in love with your husband is horrifying.

Which seems like a crazy accusation to make, and yet, you feel nothing but horror when you realize that you are desperate for him. Which is insane, because you’ve been living with him for two months when you realize you are desperate to kiss him like you’re drowning and need air.

It happens at the office. You decided to cook, because you remember really liking it, and to say thank you for all he’s done for you, you want to bring lunch to Matt at work. So you make this really delicious chicken pesto pasta, and you pick up sodas to go along with it. Matt gets the following text:

‘Your favorite soda is Dr. Pepper. Real or not real?’

Five minutes later, you get a response.

‘Real. Yours is sprite.’

You pick up a bottle of each and head over to his office. You’ve been there a few times before, but mostly it was because Frank needed to talk to Karen about something, but lately you’ve found yourself wanting to go to the office just to see Matt.

Matt is surprised when he hears the familiar beat of your heart on the other side of the door. He can also hear the slight buzz of your hearing aids.

“Sweetheart, you can come in.” He calls, but you hesitate even further. Not because you’re confused as to why he knows it’s you, but because your brain sort of short circuits when he calls you the pet name. But after a few minutes, you walk into the room and place lunch on his desk, as well with your drinks.

“Do you like pesto?”

“We had pesto pasta at our wedding.” Oh.

“So you do?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially the way you make it.”

“Oh, good.” You smile and sit at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Because I made chicken pesto pasta for lunch and figured you might want some.”

“Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

There’s a quiet calm between the two of you.

“This is a pretty killer first date, huh?” This makes Matt laugh, because in his mind, your first date was eating Thai food and listening to music. But this isn’t bad either.

“Well, Chivalry must be dead then, because I didn’t even buy you flowers.” He hums, and you tilt your head.

“I don’t remember you ever buying me flowers.” He frowns at this.

“Well, I’m going to have to fix that.”

And that’s how the afternoon goes. You sit with Matt in his office, eating a homemade chicken pasta and falling in love with him. As you go to leave, he asks you what you have planned for the day.

“I have some errands to run, but I should be home to make dinner.” And for a moment, Matt forgets all that’s happened, and he lets himself believe that you have all your memories of him perfectly intact and no one’s ever made you think otherwise.

You get back to the apartment a few hours later, and just as you’re unpacking your groceries, there’s a knock at the door. When you open it, a delivery man stands with a bouquet of flowers. Your face is warm as you sign off on them.

As you put them in their vase, you notice a note attached to it. You catch yourself grinning as you read his little note, that reads ‘I’ll buy you flowers until I’m old and wrinkly. Real.’

The urge to run back to the office and kiss him overwhelms you.

So you call Frank.

This leads to the pair of you, sitting at a booth in a diner, nursing coffees and toast.

“I hope you didn’t call me here just to complain about married life.” He tells you, making a joke out of the thing that terrifies you.

“No, I just wanted you to sit here talking to a chick with antlers so you can look like more of a freak than you already are.” You tease.

It gets you both laughing. These moments, in between all the nightmares and all of the filmy memories, fill you with a light you can’t quite describe.

“So, why’d you really call me to meet up?” He asks. “I have to assume you don’t just want to chitchat.”

“I think I’m in love with Matt.” You tell him. He raises an eyebrow.

“What? Why does that sound like you think it’s a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You confess. “It’s like I don’t want to love him, like a part of me still believes he’s the bad guy. I know he does.. Besides, I was so awful to him for so long. I pointed a gun at him and he still comforts me every night. What if I don’t deserve this?” You ask. “What if I don’t deserve him?”

Frank actually laughs—Okay, not like a giggle or a belly laugh, but it gets a good chuckle out of him.

“You and Red with that shit—Questioning if you’ve done enough for something good to happen to you. With the ‘Do I deserve this?’ and the ‘Am I worthy of this?” He shakes his head. “All that shit is irrelevant. Do you want it? Do you want to be with him?”

Tears fill your eyes as you realize what that means.

“You and him, you love each other like breathing, and I know you don’t quite get that yet, but it’s the same reason you didn’t shoot him that day. Something in you knows that you love him and deserve his love.” Frank is speaking from experience, because he knows that no matter what he’s done, he knows he deserves one more kiss from his wife.

But he’ll never get that chance.

He hopes Matt does.

• • •

It takes you a long time to make your way back to the apartment. When you get there, Matt immediately stands from his place on the couch and has this look of concern etched across his face.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently, “Your heart is racing, I just want to make sure you’re safe and—"

“I’m fine.” You smile gently. “Really, I… Thank you for the flowers.” You tell him. His face softens.

“You like them?”

“I love them, Matt.” You confess. “I’ve spent.. So long trying to rationalize everything, sort out the real things from the things that aren’t..” You’re not too sure what you’re trying to say. “I just.. I want.. I want to try. I want to try and be with you, I’m ready for that. I’m ready to be happy with you..”

He hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to, because he doesn’t want you, but he is worried that you’re only saying these things because you feel like you might owe him. You don’t. You don’t owe him anything other than what you want to give him, and he is desperate for you to know that.

“Sweetheart, You don’t.. I don’t need.. I don’t need you to pretend like you want me just because I’ve taken care of you. It’s more than enough to just—”

Matt is cut off by his first kiss from you in eight months. Your hands rest on the sides of his cheeks, and his arms are quickly around your torso. The kiss is passionate but soft at first—Until you push deeper, desperate to be as close as you can to him. Your hand even comes up to pull off his glasses to see his eyes.

Without thinking, you pull away from him only for your hand to come down to the hem of his shirt, going to pull it off.

“Off, off, off, off—” You softly request, and he just laughs, taking your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“Stop. Wait.” He says gently. “I just.. I want to make sure you actually want this.. That you really want me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve been reserved for the past two months, rightfully so, but now you want to sleep with me.. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Or something you do just because you feel lonely or bad that I—” You cut him off with another kiss, breaking it shortly after.

“I want you. I want to rebuild my life with you. I want to create new, untainted memories.. It won’t be easy, but I want to be with you.” You confess. “I want countless summer nights, I want you to be there for all the nightmares, I.. I want to give you the same peace you’ve been trying to give me.”

You’re both crying and you don’t quite know why. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold band. He slips it onto your fingers and kisses you again. He holds the hand with your wedding ring on it as he leads you into the bedroom. Into your life together. Into your arms. Where you were meant to be.

The next morning, you lay in the quiet of your apartment, the silk sheets tickling your skin. You focus on Matt’s breathing. He traces patterns into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, and he takes a moment to answer.

“You.” He says gently. “You’re all I’ve been thinking about for three years.” He says gently. Then, when you don’t say anything, “Our anniversary was two months ago..” You know he misses the life you could have had together.

The life that he had planned out for the pair of you in his head. The life that oh so quietly, he longs for. The one without nightmares, supplemented by the laughter of any potential children you might have.

“I could get used to thinking about you, too, you know.” And it makes him laugh, as you lean up and bite his shoulder gently, before placing a kiss to that same patch of skin. He swats your arm gently before the pair of you break down into giggles.

“In the future, if you ever.. don’t want to do that, you don’t have to.”

“I know.” You tell him.

A comfortable silence fills the air again.

“I’m so happy you came back to me.” He says gently. “I was.. I spent so long worried that.. that we’d spend years just trying to find our footing again. That you wouldn’t get better..” For the second time tonight, you cut off his overthinking with a kiss.

“I love you.” You tell him when you’re finally ready to pull away. The morning light shines into the apartment, giving Matt this glowing effect. He practically shimmers in the golden light, and you just take a moment to commit the look of him to memory.

You try and take your time, studying him. He’s so beautiful this time of day.

“Real or not real?” He asks you softly, as one hand snakes up to your hair, his fingers gently running through it.

You lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips.

“Real.”

219 notes · View notes

xcherricutie · 12 days

Text

「 ✦ love doesn't die ✦ 」

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[Yandere!Zombie!Silver the Hedgehog × Human!Reader]

[Word Count - 10k]

[Summary - You've been living in an abandoned city for years. You figured your luck had finally run out when an infected hedgehog finds you, but it seems like he's not entirely dead]

[Tags: Zombie AU, reader is a human because I don't like writing anthro readers I'm sorry, Silver is also a bit taller than his canon height because I mean, come on, blood and gore, some guy loses an arm, Silver isn't super yandere for most of it because I suck at writing]

[Notes: First time writing for Silver, don't expect a masterpiece. Also, the ending is kinda doodoo mainly just cause I wrote 8k of this in one day and just wanted to be done, I didn't feel like coming back to work on it haha. I got the inspo for this from another one shot that is WAY better, I was also rereading the zombot arc and needed to do this. NOT PROOFREAD]

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Dark thunder clouds rolled in, covering the overgrown city in a deep darkness. As the city grew darker, flashes of light beamed down the corpse of what used to be a lively city. Turning a corner, the light revealed yet another empty street, much to your relief. Despite having walked these streets every day for the last five years, you were still wary of any signs of life. After all, most life left were the undead, the immortal corpses of loved ones long gone. As far as you knew, you were the only person left alive. You considered yourself especially lucky, you had never even left your apartment building from before everything collapsed. You maintained your old life to the best of your abilities, just with more isolation, and no internet for entertainment.

You still recalled what life had been like before with vivid recollection. You remembered your old life back in high school, with all of your friends, human and mobian alike. You remembered the fairly frequent emergencies your world used to face, at the hands of a mad scientist. But that was a time gone by, a distant memory soon to fade from this world entirely. Assuming you were one of the only people left alive and sane, you were the sole carrier of those memories. It felt isolating, lonely, but you tried not to let it get to you. You didn’t want to live out your last days miserably.

Letting the light of your flashlight guide you back toward the safety of your home, you silently walked across the street, glancing around occasionally for any stray undead. You had discovered they tended to stick together, following sounds, likely blind. But the darkness almost heightened their senses, so you had quickly made your way back home upon noticing the signs of a storm. Unfortunately, you hadn’t beaten the dark clouds, and had been forced to use your flashlight. While you were certain most undead were blind, not all were, and that had you worried. Coming across a human undead wasn’t much to stress about either, they were weak, bones and flesh crumbling at the slightest touch. It was the mobians that had you worried. Most mobians had strength beyond the comprehension of humans in their life, and that had carried over into their undead. You had managed to avoid them for the last five years, but that didn’t mean you weren’t stressing over finally finding one every time you went out for supplies and food.

As the rundown, boarded up apartment building you called home came into view, you let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at your lips. Just as you took a step forward, you heard a soft tap behind you, sending a violent shudder up your spine as you whipped around, flinging your flashlight in the direction of whatever had caused the source. The sound of your heart thundering filled your ears as your gaze bounced around in a panic, trying to identify the source. As your eyes fell to the ground, you noticed a tiny, circular dark spot on the ground, a wet spot. Staring at it as your panicked mind tried to piece together what was happening, a swashing sound filled your ears, your body suddenly soaked as the sky poured rain. Finally realizing it was only rain, your shoulders relaxed as you scoffed with a smile, rolling your eyes at your own paranoia. Perhaps isolation had done more damage than you had initially realized.

Turning around, your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your blood freezing ice cold in your veins as your eyes met a pair of muted golden, bloodshot eyes. Tufts of messy white quills stood tall, nearly taller than you, stained a deep red shade. His maw was soaked in gore, the heavy stench of iron wafting from his being. He stared lifelessly into your eyes, almost as if looking straight through your head. Your mouth hung open, fear freezing your whole body as a silent scream began to build up within your throat. It seemed your luck finally caught up with you, as the especially tall mobian stood before you, his very presence setting your demise. There was absolutely nothing you could do to fend off the mobian, so as your instincts finally began to kick in, you chose the flight option of flight or fight.

Turning tail, you immediately bolted down the street. Biting your lip to swallow your terrified scream, you glanced back to see if he followed. Your eyes flew wide open as his eyes were directly in your face, his presence filling the air behind you. He was fast. The scream you had bit back finally freed itself as you whirled around, slamming your flashlight into the side of his skull. You had expected the sounds of squelching to fill the air, but you had been surprised by how intact his flesh still was. How great for you. He just so happened to be one of the especially strong mobians. You were thoroughly screwed.

His head whipped to the side as your flashlight smashed into his temple. The flashlight flew from your grip, momentarily distracting the undead hedgehog as the light whirled through the air. In that single moment of hesitation, you took the opportunity to run away, zigzagging through the dark. You hoped, prayed to anything that would listen that he happened to be at least slightly blind, but your luck had run bone dry as you heard the drum of footsteps just behind you.

You pushed yourself harder, running as fast as your legs would carry you. If you could just lose him, for just a second, you could wrap back around and run home. You knew the city like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t risk leading him directly to your safe place. No amount of boards and nails could hold something like him back.

Beginning to pant wildly, your lungs felt dry, suffocating you as you forced your legs to keep going. You couldn’t let yourself die like this, not after how long you had survived. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you swallowed, your mouth burning and dehydrated. But your ears were zeroed in entirely on the footsteps behind you, or rather, the fading sound of them. Pushing yourself onward, you immediately noticed the lack of footsteps behind you. Hope had instantly begun to overflow within you as you turned a sharp curve, circling back to your apartment building.

Rushing through the doors, you slammed them shut behind you, taking a shaky breath as you slid to the floor. You were fairly certain that whole escapade shaved off ten years of your life expectancy, but at the very least, you were still alive. You supposed somebody out there must’ve heard your prayers, you thought for sure that undead would never run out of stamina. He is undead after all.

Taking a moment to calm your breathing, you sucked in a deep breath, relaxing against the doors. Just as you thought to get up though, a loud thud rang through the room, vibrating against the door. Your heart jumped into your throat, eyes flying wide open as you forced your back firm against the door. You could nearly feel its presence just beyond the barrier of glass and boards, banging on the wood.

Sucking in a sharp but silent breath through your teeth, you slid the bag that hung over your shoulders off, freeing your shoulders of its weight. Grabbing one of the loose boards, you steeled your nerves for whatever came after your next move. You knew you didn’t stand a chance fighting him, so you had to find a way to hold him off while searching for an escape route.

With the remainders of your courage, you lifted yourself off the floor, back still firmly pressed against the door. The slamming grew more violent, almost as if it were getting impatient, the doors rattling as the boards weakened. You could hear the glass beneath the boards begin to crack, soon to give way. Taking a deep breath, you jumped away from the doors, the doors flinging wide open just as the pressure of your body gave way.

The hedgehog stood before you, his silhouette being illuminated by the strike of lightning in the far distance. His golden eyes, despite being muted by the lack of life, nearly glowed in the dark, highlighting the spatter of blood across his face.

You had expected him to immediately run for you, but he hadn’t budged from his spot, staring at you with an almost curious-like aura. You held the wooden board tightly in your grip, prepared to use it as a weapon, waiting for the lifeless body to make its move. Your body was nearly shaking now, the effects of your adrenaline beginning to wear off as your exhaustion caught up to you. You grit your teeth and bore through it, but the suspense had begun to take its toll as your body shook with fear.

Your gaze had shifted down to his feet as you noticed his leg twitch, foot sliding forward ever so slightly, as if trying to sneak up on you. Your eyes widened upon the realization, an audible gasp slipping from your lips as your mind began to panic. It was intelligent, enough to attempt to evade your alarm. Your whole body bristled as your grip on the board tightened, before the tension in your body suddenly snapped.

Letting out a scream of terror, you swung the board with all of your strength, the end hitting him square in the neck, knocking him to the ground. You lifted the board once more, slamming it on his head, before turning and taking off further into the building. You could hear it let out a frustrated growl, as if annoyed, his blood-soaked boots squeaking against the floor as he rose. But you didn’t dare look back as you ran towards the stairwell, flinging its metal door open and taking shelter inside.

As soon as the door slammed shut, clicking into place, you ran up the stairs, your mind panicking as you tried to come up with a way out of this. There was no way out of the building other than the entrance that you had come in through. All of the first-floor windows were heavily boarded up, and there was no exit within the basement. The only other way you could think of was the fire exit, which was in the lobby, where the hedgehog hunting you down was.

Through your jumbled thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed you had made it to the roof of the building until you pushed the door open, immediately being soaked by the onslaught of rain and wind. Thunder cracked in the sky, streaks of lightning flashing in the clouds. Your attention had momentarily been forced on the storm directly above you, before the sounds of footsteps echoing through the stairwell dragged you back into reality.

You shut the thick metal door behind you, walking toward the edge of the roof. The wind pushed back as you stepped forward, the slick ground making you stumble as you stood over the edge. The drop was far too long for you to make the jump and survive, which meant you were now trapped here, with a hedgehog that had been very persistent in getting to you. This was it. You had finally met your end, after all these years. But you wouldn’t let the undead corpse have its way, even if you had to take your fate into your own hands.

A loud thud pulled your attention back to the door, the sound repeating as visible indents had begun to form. You inched backwards, ever closer to the edge, until your heel was pressed into the edge, ready to slip with any slight movements.

And then, with one final violent slam, the door burst open, revealing the infected hedgehog. An almost animalistic look glinted in his eyes as lightning struck, and you could’ve sworn you saw a faint aura surrounding him before disappearing in small flecks of glittering light.

Taking a step forward, the hedgehog was immediately soaked in the rain as he approached you. A sharp gasp pushed past your lips as your eyes snapped from the undead to the edge just behind you. Your foot slipped ever so slightly, a startled cry catching in your throat as your arms flailed, attempting to regain your balance.

Your heart leapt into your throat as your body tipped over the edge, your mind suddenly in a flurry as you realized this was your end. At the very least, you weren’t going to be eaten alive like you had feared. That was the only comfort you received as you fell over, your balance slipping as the ground disappeared from beneath your feet.

Eyes squeezed shut, you had expected to feel the wind rush past you, before meeting a swift end. Memories flashed through the darkness at a dizzying rate, your heart beating so fast you thought it’d explode before you hit the ground. You had expected everything around you to disappear, the chill of your soaked clothes fading into nothingness, or the feeling of your heart finally stilling. But the only new sensation that had hit you was the feeling of a hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, yanking you upward.

You felt the air forced from your lungs as your body collided with something wet, freezing cold. A chill ran down your spine as your eyes opened, vision being filled with white despite the darkness. Your nose tingled as strands of fur tickled the tip, leaving behind a cold sensation as your senses were suddenly overwhelmed, overflowing. You were still alive. You had been pulled back up into safety. Or so it had seemed, but the false sense of safety suddenly washed away like the rain as you finally realized what had pulled you back up.

The hedgehog’s grip around your wrist remained, his other hand now holding your opposite wrist. You stood completely frozen, your mind trying to understand just exactly what had happened. Never, in the last five years of your isolation, living in a world with the undead, had you seen anything of the sort. Not only had every single thing that could walk wanted you dead, but none had the capacity or understanding to save you from death, not even for their own gain. Whatever this thing was, it certainly wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t entirely dead or alive.

You didn’t know what to do. Judging by the blood spatters dotting his body, the hedgehog was definitely infected. The blood couldn’t have been his own. Which meant that, regardless of his mental capacity, he was still fully willing to eat a living being. Your life was still in danger, even if he had pulled you into some twisted form of safety seconds ago. You were stuck in place, you couldn’t move. Who was to say he wouldn’t sink his teeth into your throat the second you moved even an inch? He certainly had the perfect view of your throat after all, his muzzle leaned against your shoulder.

After a long moment, one that had felt like years, you finally gave off a sign of life, your wrist twitching in his hold. When he made no efforts to bite into your neck, you gently pulled away just enough to look down at him, to at least try to gauge what was going on beneath the surface. But there was nothing in his eyes to suggest any thought process, no expression that told you he was in control. He simply stared up at you, his eyes shining with the occasional strike of lightning. Even without the sparkle of life, they still seemed bright, a remnant of what once was.

A particularly close flash of lightning caused you to jolt, eyes going wide. As your facial expression changed, so too did his, eyes going wide slightly, like a delayed reaction. Almost as if mimicking you. You sighed deeply, unsure of what to do. You certainly couldn’t shake the hedgehog, you were stuck with him, but you couldn’t just stand out here and wait for the lightning to finish the job. So, despite what your gut was warning you of, you gave the undead’s hand a slight tug.

“You, ah...” You paused, half wondering if he could even understand you. What were you even thinking, of course not, but that didn’t stop you from at least trying. “You seem smart. Do you understand me?”

No reaction. Not even a blink of the eye. You didn’t know what you were expecting, a twitch in his facial muscles or a fully constructed sentence. Regardless, you continued, with the hope that maybe some nerves in his brain were still alive and kicking. He did save you, after all. “We need to go inside. It’s not safe out here.”

Still unreactive, you decided to just hope your words got through to him, and gave his hand a stronger tug. You pulled the hedgehog slightly, waiting with bated breath for a violent reaction. But he simply let you tug and pull, dragging him back inside, back into the safety of the building. And yet, it had lost its sense of safety as you pulled the undead hedgehog behind you, straight to your safe space, your own room.

Pushing the door open, a sense of security washed over you, happy to at least be home once again. Even if the hedgehog killed you here, at least it’d be in your home. You had to look on the positive side of having an undead follower for now.

“This is my home,” You spoke, despite knowing your words would never reach him. You had even shot him a nervous smile, trying to be friendly. It was the least you could do to calm yourself and hopefully the hedgehog as well. Your mind was in shambles.

“We’ll be safe here. I’ve been here for years.” You said, leading the hedgehog further into your home, telling yourself over and over in your mind to just pretend he was alive. Pretend he wasn’t a threat.

As you continued to speak, walking around with the infected in tow, you attempted to pull your wrist from his grip, the same wrist he had grabbed to save you. The wrist that he hadn’t released the entire time since pulling you back from that edge. You pulled your wrist away, without even thinking as you spoke all about your time surviving the last few years. It had been your first time talking in years, and had gotten carried away, forgetting that you were still in the midst of danger. You had been forced back to reality as he gripped your wrist nearly painfully tight, pulling you back to his side with force. You looked down at him with wide eyes, your heart rate quickly picking back up as you looked down at him.

Still showing no signs of life. You didn’t understand what was happening, what was going through that head of his. Some thought must have been present, he had the ability to understand your life had been in danger, he understood to follow when you pulled. He had the ability to resist killing you. So why? Why did he seem so dead, when there was obviously still some amount of life hidden just beneath the blood coated surface?

“Um... You can let go now,” You tried to calmly say. Instead of seemingly not understanding though, now your words seemed to annoy him, as his empty stare turned into a frustrated look. You felt his fingers tighten around your wrist, his grip quickly growing painful. “I-It’s okay, really. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here.”

You hoped that was what he wanted to hear. It was the only thing you could think of that made sense. He didn’t want you to leave his side, but why? Was he saving you for later? Did he still fully intend on taking your life? Why wait? You tried to wrap your mind around the situation, despite knowing there likely was no explanation. At least not one you could get to on your own. Likely, the hedgehog himself was the only thing that knew what was going on. He definitely had some train of thought, you were certain of it now, especially since he confirmed being able to understand you, to some degree.

“Uh...” Mind scrambling for anything that could help you, you looked around your small apartment, trying to find something to get you out of this situation. “Wh-Why don’t you sit down? Come on.”

You gave a light tug, trying to direct him to the slightly tattered sofa in the room. He didn’t budge for a moment, staring at you, as if he were eyeing you. But after a second’s passing, he let you pull him toward the sofa, sitting him down. He sat down with no direction at all, which had surprised you, as you didn’t think you’d ever actually seen an infected sitting down.

You sat down next to him, being sure to put a few inches between you and him. He stared at you once again, putting an unsettling feeling within your being. But just as that feeling began to form, you felt his fingers loosen around your wrist, surprising you. His eyes remained trained completely on you, but at the very least, he seemed calmer.

As your eyes met his, your brows furrowed as you thought. You had never even thought you’d be in a situation like this. You wondered if you could even take this to your advantage. He didn’t seem to be after your life anyway.

“You can understand me, can’t you?” You asked. When you received no indication that your words got through, you began to think. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely capable of showing that he understood? He could show facial expressions, but so far you had only seen expressions of annoyance or frustration. Maybe he couldn’t show signs of other emotions. You hummed, finger tapping your chin as you tried to think of something to help you get through to him, or at least form some type of communication. A thought crossed your mind, making you perk up as you jumped to your feet. Your sudden movement clearly startled the hedgehog, but you failed to notice as you rushed past him with a burst of excitement.

Practically shoveling through a closet of your old belongings and things that just had no use nowadays, you finally found what you had been looking for. You slammed down a pencil and paper on the coffee table before the hedgehog, missing the sudden jerk of his body as you surprised him. You looked up to him with a bright grin, unable to contain your excitement at the idea of getting to study the infected, getting to know him and have a look into his mind, without your life being in danger.

“Okay, so you obviously have some capacity for thought,” You began, reaching out for his hand. He didn’t resist when you grabbed ahold, placing the pencil in his hand. “Try writing something, anything. A word, a number, your name, whatever you want.”

The hedgehog just stared at you, unmoving. As seconds began to turn into minutes, you wondered if you got too excited. It did seem silly, now that you thought about it. You had assumed that since he managed to express some emotions, especially to your words, that he had some understanding of language. And he had shown himself to possess some motor skills, so why not writing? At the very least, he could do a little scribbled drawing. But it was pretty farfetched to think that something like him, something lacking thought and morals, could communicate.

But your thoughts were cut off as you heard the scratching of lead against paper. With much applied force, the hedgehog began to slowly but surely make out letters, and soon, a very poorly written word had been forcefully drawn on the paper. The paper had ripped in some places, and the pencil had broken, making the lead appear rubbed. But despite that, there was still very plainly a word written in large across the paper. “Silver”.

“Silver...” You squinted your eyes at the paper, before they widened as you made the connection. “Is that your name? Silver?”

The lack of reaction this time finally confirmed your thoughts. If you had been wrong, he would’ve shown signs of frustration, but there was nothing. This was your sign. You had been right. He just lacked the ability to show other expressions, but still had the ability to think. There were still signs of life inside him after all.

“Oh wow, this is...” You fell to your knees in front of the table, sitting across from him. You stared into his eyes, momentarily awe-struck. You had found somebody; somebody you could actually communicate with. “I can’t believe it. You can actually talk. I-I haven’t spoken with anyone in years. Wait, can the others talk too?”

Silver’s brows furrowed slightly, your sign of communication, his version of “no”. You visibly pouted, disappointed by the answer, but you couldn’t be surprised. Silver was the only one who could even think, let alone show emotions.

You wanted to ask him more. You wanted to get to know him. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, trying to figure out more ways to talk with him. You had come up with the idea of asking him yes and no questions and having him write down the answers on the paper. He had been bad about writing too big to fit multiple words on the paper, which had resulted in you running out of paper and ending up just writing on the wooden table. But you didn’t care at this point, too interested in finding out everything you could about Silver, which ended up being quite a lot.

You had discovered that Silver was once one of the heroes who used to defend the world from the mad scientist who often put it in danger. You had also found out that he was the very last hero to live in the end, every one of his friends dying off one by one to the virus. Thanks to his psychokinesis, he had survived for years, only recently finally losing the fight. Apparently, he had been searching for the cure all this time, a person with special immunity to the virus. In the end, his efforts had gone to waste though, and he had died. You didn’t even know how to begin to process any of that, and by the time you had found out everything, it was late into the night hours. You were running on fumes, eyes struggling to stay open as you thought of another question to ask Silver.

Your eyes widened slightly as Silver set the pencil down, leaning back onto the sofa. You couldn’t get past the jarring, dead and empty look in his eyes, which never even blinked. It felt odd seeing him move around, seeing him interact with his surroundings, with you, despite the obvious lack of life. For the most part anyway.

Silver’s hand caught your eye as it softly pat the sofa next to him. You tilted your head in confusion, before realizing what he meant, surprising you. You didn’t think he was capable of that level of awareness, noticing your own emotions. You let out a soft chuckle as you stood, stretching out with a yawn.

“I’m still shocked that somebody like you even exists,” You said, giving Silver a smile. You failed to notice the slight twitch of his eyes; the flicker of some emotion hidden deep within him. “I guess all those years of perseverance keeps you going. I bet you could cure yourself if you tried hard enough.”

You joked, but it also made some amount of sense. He was a super powered hedgehog, far beyond anything like you’d ever seen. If anyone could overcome the virus, it would likely be him. You had assumed at this point that his interest in you was because he’d finally found someone alive, someone who wasn’t braindead. You would quickly find though, that wasn’t the only reason for his interest.

You had decided against Silver’s offer, telling him you were going to sleep in your own room. He had expressed slight annoyance at this, but calmed down after you told him he could sit and watch for danger in the living room. And while it felt nice to know there was somebody who wanted to protect you now, you also didn’t trust that Silver could control his hunger. So just in case, you had locked your bedroom door. You knew it’d do little to stop him, should he really want to get in, but it gave you some comfort.

Despite your initial excitement, you couldn’t help the fear that Silver was still a danger to you. He could think and communicate, sure, but did that stop him from eating people? Had he actually eaten anyone before? You didn’t dare ask him, scared it was a touchy subject. He had emotions, so it was obvious he must’ve felt something toward his sickness, his “condition”. He was dead, of course it was a touchy subject. So, you lived in uncertainty now, fearing the day Silver lost control.

But you’d find out his hunger wasn’t what you had to worry about. You found that out almost immediately the next day, explaining to Silver that you had to go out again and search for food. To put it simply, he was not happy.

“Silver, I have to go out! I will literally die without food!” You argued, pulling on your wrist as Silver held you tightly. He didn’t move or even budge a single muscle, your efforts doing little to escape his hold. You grumbled in annoyance, glaring down at him. “Would you rather me die? I don’t think I’ll be as lively as you when I’m dead.”

Your words seemed to cut through whatever stubbornness he had been feeling as he returned the glare tenfold but released you. You huffed, rubbing your pained wrist, turning away from him. You grabbed your bag that you had retrieved from the lobby (without Silver, of course), stuffing inside anything you may need on your trip out. You had to leave space for food though, which meant you couldn’t bring very much with you, aside from a flashlight and a knife.

“I’ll be fine, Silver, promise. I’ve been doing this longer than you, after all,” You teased, though you’re unsure he found it very humorous. But you didn’t linger on it, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “You could even come with me and help. It’d be nice to have some help for once.”

This seemed to perk Silver up, as his glare relaxed into that empty look you were coming to know. You smiled, a small chuckle escaping your lips. Perhaps he still retained that heroic personality he had in life, trying to protect you from any and all harm.

With that settled, you and Silver headed out. Silver took the lead right away, keeping a lookout for any infected. The city was empty and silent, most undead out in the woods, looking for wild animals for sustenance. The eerie silence was still jarring to you, even after all these years. Even with all of the plant life overrunning the city, there was a lack of wildlife. No birds chirping, or squirrels running about. As far as you could tell, Silver and you were the only life for miles. Or so you had assumed.

A splash of water broke through the silence, drawing your attention as you looked down into the murky puddle your boot had stepped in. Your reflection rippled through its surface before disappearing as you lifted your boot, unsettling the mud. You let out a soft hum, eyes glancing around your surroundings. All was quiet, even with Silver at your side now. You found his silence gave you almost a sense of foreboding. Were the infected all this quiet?

Your attention focused on Silver; you didn’t even register the sound of water splashing just behind you. You barely had time to process the hand that reached out from behind, a shiver running down your spine as your mind lagged behind, realizing just seconds too late what was happening.

Silver’s feet dragged as he trudged forward, bleary eyes shifting back and forth as he looked around. All was quiet, and his sharp sense of hearing didn’t pick up anything other than the thuds of your footsteps just behind him. Hearing a splash of water, Silver’s ear twitched slightly, but shrugged it off as your presence. It was strangely quiet, even for him.

A sharp, shrill scream pierced that silence, startling Silver as he whipped around, trying to focus his eyes, trying to find you. His eyes landed on your form, legs kicking as you tried to fight off the infected that had snuck up on you. Its hand wrapped around your face, other hand holding your shoulder as it leaned in close to your neck.

Swinging your body back and forth, you tried to shove it off, letting out a startled cry as you felt its hot breath down your neck. Tears brimming in your eyes, you grabbed it by the arm, using all of your strength to fling it over your shoulder. Its body slammed against the ground, the rotten flesh of its arm tearing clean off.

A shudder ran down your back as you dropped the dead flesh, your blurry eyes landing on Silver as he rushed to your side. But you didn’t have time to focus on him as your peripheral vision caught sight of movement, whipping to face whatever was approaching next. Your eyes widened to see not just a few stray infected, but an entire horde. The streets were filled with undead, the putrid scent of death hitting your nose.

“Th-They’re everywhere,” You muttered, turning to look at Silver. If an infected could look panicked, Silver surely did right now. His eyes were wide, shoulders stiff as he leaned closer to you, as if to try and protect you. But even Silver couldn’t fight off an entire horde, he had found that out in his final moments of life.

The storm had to have led them in, you assumed. They relied on their sense of sound and must’ve lingered even after the storm passed. They had you and Silver completely surrounded, and there was nothing you could do to get through. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breathing growing erratic as your eyes darted around for any kind of escape.

Body trembling, you felt your knees grow weak with fear as you realized, this was likely your end. It had been just your luck to finally find someone who could change your life, only to have it all ripped away from you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you noticed the infected beginning to approach, your tears streaming down your face as you tried to shut the world out.

Just as you closed everything out though, you felt a cold hand wrap around your own, fingers squeezing gently. You peeked your eyes open, meeting the pair of golden eyes you thought you’d never get the chance to see again. But something was different, there was a whole new layer of color to them, a turquoise aura surrounding both you and him. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. It was the smallest upturn of his lips, crinkling his muzzle ever so slightly. You hadn’t even thought it possible for him to make any expressions other than aggravation, but in your final moments, he had given you the comfort you didn’t even realize you desired for all these years.

Your mind had been distracted from what you had assumed would be your final few seconds in life, your eyes entirely on Silver. Something about your gaze, the way your eyes lit up upon seeing his smile, it made something deep within Silver flutter to life. Something he had rarely ever felt, even in his days alive. It gave him the strength to use up what little power he had access to in his rotten body, lifting his body from the ground. You hadn’t even realized what was going on, having closed off the world as your mind focused entirely on Silver’s face, on his smile, his soft and kind eyes. It wasn’t until your feet had left the ground, did you finally come back down to Earth.

Your eyes widened as you looked down, the ground getting further and further away as Silver lifted you just above the infecteds’ reach. Your eyes practically lit up with exuberance, nearly welling with more tears as you realized Silver had once again saved your life. But that excitement quickly dissipated as your eyes met his, noticing the strained look written across his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a soft groan as the aura surrounding you had begun to flicker and disappear. He had just barely managed to land on the roof of a tall building, thankfully with no entry to the roof. They were safe, for the time being.

“Silver, that was amazing!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him without even thinking. Silver’s eyes widened as he felt you squeeze him close, muttering words of thanks over and over as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

A sharp jolt burst through Silver’s body, causing him to twitch slightly in your hold. It felt electrifying, like something within him had been shocked to life. It almost felt as though his heart had been jumpstarted, his cold, dead body, blood that had long since stagnated beginning to heat up his body. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t that your touch had brought his body back to life, more so that it had given life to a brand-new feeling, an indescribable feeling that Silver immediately knew he had to protect at all costs.

“Oh, but...” You pulled away slightly, much to Silver’s dismay, as you cast your gaze over the edge of the building. The sky was still cloudy, blotting out the sunlight, the wind sending a chill down your spine. “We’re stuck up here now. Do you think you could fly the rest of the way home?”

Silver frowned deeply, giving you your answer. You sighed, shoulders drooping in disappointment. That meant, that until the horde either dispersed, or Silver gained enough energy to fly once again, you were stuck up here. And the fact that you had yet to eat anything today was finally starting to catch up with you, your body feeling tired and weak.

Your gaze lifted back up to Silver’s, finally realizing your arms were still wrapped around him. You could barely even recall the fact that he was dead anymore, the only reminders being the sickly sweet smell coming from him, and the droopiness of his eyes. But the way he held you softly in his arms, the smile he had given you to comfort you in what could’ve been your final moments, it felt so much like a real person. Like there was still somebody in there. Somebody who cared for you.

“Can you smile again?” You asked, both genuinely curious, and missing the presence of his smile. Silver seemed a bit caught off guard, his body tensing slightly. His hands pulled away from you, leaving a cold, empty feeling where they had been, which you ignored. It had been far too long since you felt physical contact with another being.

Silver’s cheeks twitched slightly as he struggled to curl his lips upwards. He had even squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pull his lips upward, but they simply wouldn’t budge. You frowned slightly, wondering if doing even the simplest things overexerted his muscles. They were pretty much dead, after all. It was shocking he could even do it before.

Letting out a frustrated growl, Silver lifted his fingers to his cheeks, pushing the corners of his lips upward. Your eyes widened at the annoyed hedgehog who forcefully turned his lips upward, giving him a very strange and almost scary appearance, had you not known what was going on. For a moment, you could only stare in pure surprise, before a sputter of laughter escaped your lips. Covering your mouth, you tried to hide the laughter that bubbled up within you, but you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped. Soon enough, your hidden giggles turned into uproarious cackling, sides nearly splitting as you doubled over.

Like an infection, your euphoria spread to Silver, nearly having to do a double take as you caught sight of his face. His lips had been pulled into a tight smile, mimicking your own. His sharp canines stood out, stained slightly red, his gums showing from how hard he was pulling. But despite that, you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling within you at the sight, chuckling.

“You have a lovely smile, Silver,” You said, your words causing Silver to falter, his lips trembling. It felt like his heart was trying to stutter back into life, almost painfully so. He didn’t think he’d ever felt an emotion as strong as what was going through him now. And your words only made it worse as you continued. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Silver knew from that moment that he needed to keep you, he wanted you at his side, forever.

It had taken a few hours, but the horde of the undead had finally begun to disperse, following sounds in the woods, looking for their next meal. Silver had also gathered just enough energy to fly back home, holding you tightly, taking every chance he could to squeeze you against his own body. You were so warm against him; it was becoming addicting.

Before finding you, Silver had assumed there was no life left aside from the occasional wild animal. But even those were becoming rare. He thought it a curse that he could see the world around him, that he still had some thought and comprehension, but that he lacked control of his own body. It wasn’t until he saw you for the first time, roaming the dark streets, did he finally feel like himself. He needed to see you, to see an actual living being. He had died all alone and thought the rest of his undead life would be the same, and you changed that. You were like his lifeline, keeping him connected with his humanity. He needed you.

Once you had made it back home, you made sure to lock the front door, pushing a shelf in front of it with Silver’s help. It wouldn’t stop a group of infected, but it might stop one or two. Maybe. Silver didn’t make it seem like a silly idea, so you found comfort in that.

As the hours grew late, putting a close to your second day since finding Silver, you found yourself practically attached at the hip to Silver, the same going for him. Asking him more questions about himself and his life, you were enthralled by him. It had been many years since you got to bond with anyone, it felt like you couldn’t detach yourself from him if you tried.

Letting out a yawn, you leaned back onto the sofa, having run out of ideas to ask him. Communicating with someone via yes or no questions could only get you so far, and you felt like you had hit that limit. There wasn’t much left to ask him, now the information you sought could only be given by him, and that obviously wasn’t possible. As much as you wished for it, Silver still lacked the ability to actually speak, and likely would forever.

“I guess that’s it for today. It’s too bad we couldn’t find anything, I’m starving,” You mumbled, your stomach growling. It wasn’t like you hadn’t gone a day without food before, but it was still slightly painful. You sighed, standing up as you smiled at Silver. “I guess I’ll just have to try again tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll have cleared out by then.”

As you turned away, going to prepare for bed, you failed to notice the look of disapproval on Silver’s face. He watched you walk away, a slight scowl on his face.

Walking into your bedroom, you stretched out your arm, though came to a screeching halt as an intensely sharp pain stabbed through your shoulder, nearly drawing a cry of pain out of you. You hissed, letting your arm go slack as you rushed into your bathroom. The dim moonlight bathed the room in an almost blueish light, highlighting the red gash that had been scratched across your neck and shoulder. You could only stare with wide eyes, your mind unable to process the sight before you, breath caught in your throat. How had you failed to notice that? When did it happen?

As the memory of the infected that had snuck up on you passed through your mind, you faintly recalled feeling an uncomfortable scratch across your collarbone that you hadn’t given much thought to at the time. Your life was in danger, you were focused entirely on escaping the situation. But now that you were home, and hours had gone by, the blood had dried, and the wound had begun to heal. It wasn’t a deep scratch. Just enough to break the skin. But was that all it took to turn? To become infected?

It had been hours, you reminded yourself. Turning was usually immediately. But you also knew there were rare cases where it could happen over a course of time, slowly killing the host. You had been infected. There was no doubt about it.

Stumbling back into your bedroom, you collapsed against the old, beaten mattress. There was nothing you could do except hope that you woke up tomorrow morning. You couldn’t tell Silver. He had finally found someone he could talk to. Someone he could bond with. You didn’t want to crush that so soon.

Closing your eyes, you ignored the pain in your shoulder, letting slumber take you. You had been fully prepared to just never wake up again, at least not fully. But much to your surprise, you woke up the next day, sunshine pouring into your room through an unboarded window. You blinked away your sleepiness, slightly confused as to why you were still you, before jumping out of bed.

Rushing to your bathroom, you checked your collarbone once again. The scratch remained, still healing. You had honestly thought it to be a dream when you woke up, but seeing it there, feeling the remaining pain as you moved your shoulder, you knew it was real.

You didn’t know what to do. Your mind was rushing for a solution, or at least a way to keep this from Silver. You didn’t want him to see you change. You had to come up with some sort of plan to get away from him before changing, and today was the perfect opportunity.

That was what you had thought, until Silver had decided not to let you out at all today. Just like yesterday, he held you by your wrist tightly, refusing to let you walk through your door. You had even tried the same reasoning as yesterday, saying that he could come with, but he still wouldn’t let you go. You had thought it was because he hadn’t been there to keep you safe from being grabbed, but you were fine as far as he was aware. There was no reason for him to feel bad.

“I have to go out, I need food, I’m hungry! Just let me go!” You huffed in frustration, ignoring the pain in your shoulder as you tried to tug your arm free. Silver simply glared up at you, visibly growing more frustrated the longer you fought him. He didn’t understand why you thought it was okay to go out again, not after yesterday. Not after he nearly lost you.

“Let me go!” You raised your voice, trying to urge him to free you. It seemed your tone only made him mad, as he roughly yanked your arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder. You cried out in alarm, holding your shoulder as you hissed. “You’re hurting me, Silver!”

Your cries of pain seemed to startle him as his grip loosened significantly, almost enough for you to pull your arm free, but his grip returned just as you tried to pull. As your eyes met his, you could see a look of not just frustration in his eyes, but confusion. Guilt suddenly squeezed at your heart, making you sigh as your shoulders fell.

“Okay, if you don’t want me to go, then why don’t you? You’re one of them after all,” You said, giving him a small, comforting smile. “That way, I can stay safe at home, and you can bring me food.”

Silver let you go at that, agreeing immediately. He walked past you, shoving the shelf blocking the door aside with ease. As he looked back, your eyes widened as he gave you the tiniest of smiles. The sight made your heart flutter, but at the same time sink, knowing it would be your last time getting to see such a smile. The smile of someone with perseverance great enough to live beyond death.

You gave Silver a bright grin in return, your smile remaining until the door had closed behind him, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was just like before now, when you were all alone. Silver was gone. And it had left a bigger hole in your heart than you thought it would.

But you had no time to waste. You didn’t know when it would happen. You had to disappear before Silver could return, without being noticed. You waited until you were certain Silver was gone before preparing.

The table was covered in Silver’s scribbles now, with little room left. Taking a marker, you wrote over Silver’s handwriting, writing a small apology, that you didn’t want him to see you turn. With your final words written, you took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your old apartment one last time. Since showing up, Silver had left that sickeningly sweet smell everywhere he went. A smell that once made you sick and terrified, you found some sense of comfort in, knowing it was from him.

You wished you could’ve had more time with him. You wished you could’ve met Silver before everything, before he and everyone around him died. You imagined you would’ve been great friends. But you couldn’t linger on that, not anymore.

Slipping out of your apartment, you made certain that you were completely alone before exiting the building. The streets were silent once again, but this time, you knew nothing was around. Not even Silver. You were alone.

Making your way into the woods that had begun to creep up on the old city, you were surrounded by the darkness the trees provided, hiding you from the light. Even in the woods, it was dead silent aside from the wind rustling the leaves and branches. It was a lonely final resting place, but you preferred that over putting Silver in even more pain.

With one final glance back, you could see your memories flashing through your eyes just like before, but at a slower pace now, reminding you of everything you’d lost, and the friend you were going to lose now. You were simply thankful you got the chance to meet Silver. For a mere second, you thought it might’ve been possible he himself was the cure he had been searching so long for. After all, he was still alive, even though his body technically wasn’t. The thought made you smile, comforting you as you disappeared into the darkness.

The sun had begun to drift lower and lower into the sky. Silver stared up at the sky as it turned from a bright blue into a brilliant orange. Despite the beautiful view, Silver only wished you could’ve been with him to witness it. He knew he had made the right decision in leaving you home, especially since he had seen a few infected during his search. But he still couldn’t help but miss you, wanting to be always at your side.

Making his way back home, Silver pushed the door open, mustering up his best smile as he held his arms out, showing off the food he had found in his search. But upon seeing the empty room, Silver dropped the food without a thought as he looked around. Where were you? Why were you not here waiting for him?

Red ink scrawled across the table caught his attention, golden eyes landing on the message. Taking in its words, Silver didn’t even think it possible to feel his blood pressure skyrocket, and yet the feeling that overcame him in those two seconds rivaled the feeling.

Silver didn’t think he’d ran that fast since he was alive. He didn’t even know he could run as fast as he was, nor did he think he had the same heightened sense of smell as the other infected until he was completely zeroed in on your scent, on the blood in your scent. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not after he’d finally found someone to be with. Someone who was alive and made him feel alive. He had to have you, no matter what. Even if you were infected, he’d find a way to help you. You could be just like him; he would make you be just like him. Even if he had to infect you himself.

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, and the woods grew darker with each second. You shivered as the wind blew a chill down your spine, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. Despite the pain in your shoulder, you couldn’t feel any effects of the virus. Perhaps you were one of the rare cases that had to suffer longer? It certainly lined up with the luck you had.

The leaves crunched softly underneath your boots as you walked, your mind drifting as time slowed to a crawl. You were just ready for it to be over. Silver was probably already home, though you couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction would be. You guessed he might try to look for you, but you’d already be turned and long gone before he could find you. You felt guilty, but it wasn’t like letting Silver watch you turn was any better.

Your mind was brought back to reality as you heard a particularly loud gust of wind. Looking around, you felt your fear begin to crawl from the pits of your stomach, and up your spine. Squeezing yourself tighter, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, before continuing on.

Before you could take even a single step forward though, you were suddenly and violently tackled to the ground. You let out a startled cry, your shoulder slamming against the ground, forcing a scream from your lungs. You felt a hand grab your injured shoulder, flipping you over with great force, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

Your eyes met a pair of wildly glowing golden eyes, a sneer pulling at his lips, revealing his canines. You cried out in alarm, trying to crawl away, Silver’s tight grip holding you in place underneath him. You had no time to react, no time to stop him as he bent down, immediately sinking his teeth into your collarbone. You let out a shrill scream, feeling your own blood soak your clothes and skin, staining Silver’s muzzle. You fought and shoved against him, feeling the cool air hit your skin as he pulled away, revealing his dripping maw, blood trickling down his canines.

“Mine,” A strained, raspy voice spoke, startling you. He repeated the word over and over, rubbing his nose against your neck. He switched to the other side, making you panic as you felt his sharp teeth brush over your skin. He sunk his teeth into your flesh, taking in your scent, practically burning it into his brain. He was never letting you out of his sight again. You were his, he needed you, you were all he had left in this world.

Pulling away, Silver stared at the sight of you below him. Your neck was littered with bites, and after the third bite, you had lost the strength to fight him, just waiting to succumb to your death. Your eyes drooped, a sleepiness unlike anything you’d ever felt washing over you, granting you relief.

As your eyes fell shut, you could feel Silver lift you, holding you against his fluffy chest. You leaned into his surprisingly warm hold, deciding to just go with it. You were dead anyway, so you might as well soak it in. Despite everything, you were still glad to have met Silver.

It felt like time had slowed to a near stop, and you couldn’t differentiate minutes between hours, and days between years. It felt like you had been forced to wake though after a long time, sunlight pouring over you, bathing you in its warmth. It was strangely warm. You had expected everything to be cold, dead.

Eyes slowly peeking open, they blurred in the light, making you groan. Just as you began to stir, you heard a gasp, startling you fully awake, eyes clearing up immediately as you sat up. Just before you stood Silver, or what you had assumed was Silver. He was strangely... lively. Almost like he was alive.

“You’re awake!” He exclaimed, his crystal-clear voice startling you to your core. It wasn’t like he was almost alive; he was alive. His golden eyes held that flicker of life that was once missing, his lips curled into the biggest smile you had ever seen.

As if able to tell you were both shocked and confused, Silver chuckled, sitting down next to you on the bed. “A little while after I bit you, I got better. It surprised me too, believe me. I guess it turns out you were the immune person I’ve been looking for all this time!”

Your brain didn’t process a single word he said. You were shocked you were even still alive, especially after how Silver had bitten you, and many times at that. The memory of Silver biting you over and over suddenly filled your head, the pain still ever present in your neck. You ran your hand over your neck, feeling the deep teeth marks scattered across your skin. Silver’s eyes fell to your hand, his smile remaining, but the glimmer of innocent cheerfulness fading from his eyes.

“I wanted to be the one to turn you,” Silver said, his voice forcing your attention back on him, looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled at you, the corners of his lips reaching his eyes and forcing them to crinkle. “I was going to make you like me. But this is better! This means that you can’t turn, and even if I do, I can just bite you and cure myself!”

Something about Silver’s words, or the way he smiled, put an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Something about this didn’t sit right with you, but you couldn’t quite place it. Was it kind that he wanted to turn you himself? You couldn’t tell.

“What does this mean? A-Am I going to have to cure everyone else?” You asked, confused. You didn’t think you could handle getting bitten that much. You didn’t even have enough blood to spare a few hundred people. And wouldn’t that, you know, kill you?

“Oh, no!” Silver chuckled, shaking his head. He took your hand into his own, squeezing it much more gently than he had when he was infected. “I can’t let you be getting hurt. It’s just you and me against the world.”

Silver gave you a big smile, his eyes filled with love, and yet, you knew, there was no real love to be found. His love had died with him when he died so long ago.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

#sonic the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader #yandere silver the hedgehog #yandere silver the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #sonic #zombie au but I'm bad at writing #yandere #yandere sonic the hedgehog

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hey!! i hope you're having an amazing day <3 for the valentines day prompts could i request a platonic "you’re my family too." for roan and the reader

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thank you for your request! eddie and roan tw burns | fem!reader

Eddie burns himself at work, an angry stripe of red blistered skin up the length of his forearm. He goes to the ER, and he gets everything dressed properly. His arm hurts really bad, but he's not in any danger of infection as long as he's clean and careful.

Roan thinks he's gonna die.

To be fair to her, it must've felt a little traumatic for her to get picked up from school by you instead of him, and then to be brought straight to the hospital. You'd done a really great job at looking after her while he was getting looked at, you'd been more calm than he or Uncle Wayne, that's for sure, but you're no miracle worker, and you'd cried. Roan had seen Eddie in a hospital bed with his shirt cut off and bandages wrapped around his arm and burst into tears herself. No amount of vending machine treats had helped.

Eddie's home now, he'd barely been there for the night, and though it's past Roan's bed time you're all awake at the kitchen table. Roan lies against Eddie's chest, refusing to leave him for even a second since she sat down, and you're making mac and cheese.

"Roanie, Roanie, macaroni," he sings quietly, hand buried in his daughter's soft curls. "Where'd your macaroni go?"

She doesn't sing along. Her nose stabs him in the ribs.

"I'm really sorry about dinner," you say.

Eddie tips his head back. "Why, angel?"

"I mean, I'm sorry I didn't get dinner for her when we were in the ER, or you, I was just so worried. It's no excuse, but–"

"Woah, hey, what? You don't have to be sorry. I don't think any of us were thinking about dinner."

You're moving fast at the stove, tipping the saucepan of mac and cheese into three different bowls. He notices you giving yourself the smaller portion and promises to make it upto you eventually. His poor girl.

His poor girls.

"I just don't want Roan going hungry," you say.

Eddie frowns, because he doesn't want that either.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" he asks, moving his head down to talk near her ear.

She nods and sits up. She's concerningly quiet, and Eddie decides enough is enough — he's gonna cheer his baby up if it's the last thing he does. He turns her around in his lap and aeroplanes her food though she's probably too old. He does voices, he kisses her cheek, he bounces her on his knee and shouts, "Earthquake!" until she's giggling and begging him to stop.

You don't pepper up as Roan does. He plops her down in his seat to use the bathroom, and he hears your quiet tones as he returns, pausing by the stairs.

"I'm really sorry, Ro," you're saying.

"It's okay," Roan says.

"No, it's not. I didn't mean to scare you today with daddy, and I'm sorry I wasn't being as brave as you deserved." He hears you sniffle. "I didn't mean to scare you," you repeat.

"You didn't scare me," Roan says.

"No?"

"No," she says.

"Can I have a hug?" you ask.

Eddie steps quietly into the doorway to watch you embrace her. She climbs into your lap and hugs you tightly, her chubby cheek pressed to your chest. You hug her and you look so miserable that Eddie feels his heart break for you. He has no clue why you're taking today this hard. He thinks you must've been more terrified than you'd let on.

"I'm supposed to look after you," you murmur. "You and Eddie, you're my family."

"You're my family, too," Roan says.

You make a sound like you've been punched. "I know," you say.

You kiss her forehead and push her away from you gently.

"I'm glad I didn't scare you, baby. Thank you for being so brave today. I'm so proud of you."

Eddie grins at the way Roan puffs up. He slips into the room and rest his good arm across your shoulders, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he squeezes you. He rests his nose against your cheek.

Roan's not the only one who was brave today, he thinks. Then, Christ, I'm getting soft.

"You looked after us just fine," Eddie says, standing up. "Now you gotta look after yourself and finish your dinner, sweetheart."

Roan nods with a sense of urgency. "We need juice," she says decidedly.

"And you need another tramadol before bed," you say to Eddie.

He sighs in relief. His arm fucking kills. If he didn't have his girls he'd be rolling around on the floor.

#eddie and roan #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #luveline valentine

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

Broken Without You

Summary: After witnessing the death of your best friend Henry and his little brother, you're close to giving up and ending it all. Until Joel asks you to join him and Ellie on their journey across the country and gives you a reason to keep fighting.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: language, blood, suicidal thoughts

Previous Chapter

Chapter 4-

"His brother might be in Wyoming, that's why we're going there." Ellie randomly said, breaking the silence.

The three of you followed the old freeway north of Kansas City, putting as much distance between you and the horde of infected that were no doubt taking over what used to be the QZ.

"Ellie." Joel hissed, shooting her a warning look.

"What? It's not a secret."

Joel looked like he wanted to argue that statement, but kept his mouth shut. You looked between the two of them, but Ellie simply rolled her eyes at the man before you focused back on the scenery around you.

The just-risen sun shone softly on the green pastures either side of the road, bringing with it the melody of birds chirping. It was a beautiful morning, and you hated it. It shouldn't be beautiful, not after what happened in KC. In the movies it was always dark and miserable outside when people were grieving, but in real life? Mother Nature didn't give a shit about your feelings.

The bright shining sun felt like a punch to the face, so you looked away, staring at your feet as you walked.

"We don't know where exactly in Wyoming he is. Last Joel heard, Tommy was somewhere in that state, but then he lost radio contact." Ellie continued to ramble.

"Wyoming is a big place." You pointed out, glancing over at the girl. "Have you tried to contact him on the radio recently?"

Ellie looked over at Joel for an answer, but he seemed to be actively ignoring your conversation while he walked a few paces ahead.

"Joel?" Ellie called out, awaiting an answer. "Don't act like you're not listening to everything we've said."

Joel sighed, "I don't have a radio to try contact him on."

He didn't bother turning to look at you as he spoke, instead he kept his head straight while he walked, and Ellie opened her mouth to probably say something sarcastic before you spoke up.

"What if I took you to a radio tower?"

Joel stopped dead in his tracks. You and Ellie nearly walked straight into him, not expecting him to come to a sudden halt. He turned to face you properly, his brown eyes locking with yours.

"You can get me to a radio tower?" He asked in shock, and you nodded. "How?"

"FEDRA have a radio tower between KC and Omaha. Last I heard, it was still up and running."

Joel frowned, "how do you know FEDRA have a radio tower there?"

"It was common knowledge back in KC." You easily lied.

Joel eyed you cautiously, almost as if he could somehow sense you weren't telling the truth. He kept his expression blank and for a few seconds you feared he had figured it out, but then he was simply nodding before he continued walking.

The last thing you wanted was for Joel to find out who you really were. If he did, he would take Ellie and leave. He wouldn't let you stay with them, and to your own surprise, you found yourself wanting to stay with them.

Earlier, you were happy for them to leave you behind, but you're glad that Ellie came back for you because if she didn't, there was no doubt that you would be dead by now. Whether it be by your own hand or not was still up for debate.

The single bullet in your jeans pocket felt warm as you thought about it. Joels words from earlier this morning ringing through your ears.

'…if you plan on using that thing, I ain’t gonna stop ya. I get it… but just think about that kid over there. She’s already lost enough.'

You weren't sure how you felt about his words. But every time you thought about Henry and Sam, the more you wished you could be with them again. Just one shot and all your pain and suffering would be gone.

It was tempting, but you'd never do that in front of Ellie or Joel.

You'd never put them in that position, especially after Henry did it to you.

By late afternoon the following day, you were walking through the main street of town towards the radio tower looming high in the sky on the far side of the suburbs.

The weather had done a full 360, almost as if Mother Nature had heard your thoughts from earlier. The sun had been hidden behind the stormy clouds since you woke up and it had been raining steadily for the last three hours.

Your hair was drenched, and clothes soaked through completely. Ellie had her hoodie up, but it didn't do much to stop the rain and Joel wasn't faring any better, although the leather of his jacket was probably doing a decent job at keeping the water out compared to your flannel shirt.

"What is this?" Ellie suddenly questioned, pointing at a vehicle to your left.

You looked to where she was pointing to find a very old and faded ice cream truck parked beside the curb. Wait, had Ellie never seen an ice cream truck before?

"That is an ice cream truck." You answered watching her brows furrow in confusion.

"An ice cream truck?"

"Yeah. I don't remember a lot from before the outbreak, I was just a kid, but this..." You said, stopping beside the truck. "Oh, I remember this. They'd sell ice cream out of these bad boys."

"What? No way." She said, shaking her head in disbelief before glancing over at Joel for backup. "Joel?"

"It's true." He admitted, sparing a quick glance at you before focusing on the truck and if you weren't mistaken, there was a slight twitch to his lips as if he was fighting back a smile. "This thing used to drive around and play real loud creepy music and kids would come running out to buy ice cream."

Well, when he worded it like that it sounded super weird, but it was true.

"You're totally fucking with me."

"Um-mm serious."

"Man, you lived in a strange time." Ellie said, staring at the truck like it was a spaceship.

You smiled softly watching her before a thought hit you hard.

If Ellie didn't know what an ice cream truck was, that meant Sam never knew what one was either. There was so much about the old and the new world Sam never knew after a lifetime inside the KC QZ. Walking around in some random small town and seeing things like ice cream trucks and never-ending green pastures would be like Disney Land for him. But he wasn't here to see it.

"Let's keep moving. This rain isn't going to stop anytime soon." You instructed, looking away from the truck abruptly before you turned and marched on towards the tower.

If Joel or Ellie noticed your sudden change in demeanour, they didn't comment on it and instead silently followed as you led them in the direction of the tower.

It wasn't long before you were opening the door to the small shed next to the radio tower. There was a spare key hidden under a brick around the back, but like hell you were going to use that. Joel was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. He'd put two and two together. So, you used a crowbar that you grabbed earlier while you walked past the hundreds of abandoned cars in the neighbourhood knowing you'd need it for this moment.

You stepped inside first, the crowbar clutched in your hands tightly as you scanned the small room for any infected, but other than a few spiderwebs there wasn't anything in there. It had been a long time since you were last here. So, you hoped that the radio was still in working condition.

Joel and Ellie followed you inside and looked around while you went straight to the front desk and flicked on the switch for the radio, hoping, praying that the little green light would turn on.

A few seconds ticked by, but the light wouldn't turn on. The old radio had finally died.

"Shit." You cursed softly under your breath, flicking the switch a few times just to be sure, but it wouldn't work.

Joel appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the radio before he leant forward and began fiddling with the wires at the back of it. You stood back, giving him room to work before you glanced over at Ellie who was standing by the window and looking up at the tall radio tower beside the shed.

"Imagine the view from up there." She whispered, her eyes wide and full of curiosity.

"Got it." Joel suddenly said, bringing your attention back to him to find the little green light by the power switch was now shining brightly.

"Thank God."

You stepped forward and began scanning the frequency channels searching for any radio chatter out of habit more than anything. Back when the KC FEDRA was still up and running, the channels were full of people talking and relaying information. It was kind of eerie hearing the radio so silent.

"What channel did you used to talk to your brother on?" You asked, glancing over at Joel.

He opened his mouth to answer but didn't get a chance before Ellie suddenly cut him off.

"Uh, guys? There's a group of people with guns heading this way."

You had never moved so fast in your entire life. You ripped open the top draw of the desk and grabbed the pair of binoculars that you knew were inside, hoping Joel was too distracted to wonder how you knew it was there.

Raising the binoculars to your eyes, you looked out the window Ellie was standing by, and your stomach dropped in realisation.

They were survivors from Kathleen's resistance group.

You couldn't recognise most of them, but the woman leading the way was one of Kathleen's best friends. Shit. They must be here for the radio tower as well. How the hell did they even survive that horde of infected back in KC?

"We need to leave." You quickly ordered.

"Who are they?" Joel questioned sternly, catching onto the fact that you had recognised them.

"No one good. C'mon, there's a back door."

Joel and Ellie followed you without hesitation, the three of you rushing out the back door and running down the street in the opposite direction. Rain continued to pour down from the sky above you, but you didn't even notice.

"They're getting away!" A voice yelled in the distance before gunshots suddenly erupted from behind you.

"This way!" You shouted above the gunfire, ducking down between two houses and out the line of fire.

The three of you ran along the outside wall of the house before popping out onto a different street. You scanned left and right trying to get your bearings before you took off running across the street towards a small alleyway.

"Do you know where you're goin'?" Joel questioned, breathing heavily as you crouched down behind a large dumpster in the alleyway and he did the same, pulling Ellie down beside him.

"We can't go south, that’s where they are. So, that’s out the question, but all other roads out of town lead to the same place, the bridge."

"The bridge? Like a freeway bridge?" Ellie asked in confusion.

You shook your head, "no. A bridge over a river. If we can cross the bridge then we can disappear into the woods on the other side. They'll never be able to find us in there after dark."

You glanced up at the sky as you spoke, taking in the dark clouds. The sun was nowhere to be seen, but you knew it had to be close to setting which meant it would be getting dark soon and the woods would provide the perfect cover.

"If all other roads out of town lead to this bridge, wouldn't they know that's where we're heading?" Joel questioned, and, shit. He was right.

Kathleen's resistance group was smart. They had to be smart if they somehow escaped that horde of infected. Joel was right. They'd know exactly where you were heading. What were you meant to do?

"We should double back. C'mon." Joel muttered, grabbing Ellie's hand and leading her back out the alley before you could stop him.

Damnit.

You had no choice but to follow, however just as Joel stepped out onto the street, a car suddenly sped around the corner, and he was hurriedly backtracking and ducking behind the dumpster once again.

The car came speeding down the street, and you quickly knelt down beside Joel, peeking out from behind the dumpster just as the car pulled over and four men with guns jumped out.

"I saw them. They're around here somewhere. Search the buildings!"

The three of you remained hidden as the men all dispersed and began sweeping the streets and buildings trying to locate you.

"Anyone else got any other bad ideas?" Ellie questioned, a hint of amusement in her tone causing Joel to glare at her.

"Just one." You muttered, taking a deep breath before you took off sprinting.

The only way Joel and Ellie were getting to the bridge was if the resistance were distracted. If they were distracted, they wouldn't go to the bridge and then Ellie and Joel would have a clear shot out.

Joel shouted your name, but you ignored him as you ran straight to the car and jumped into the driver's seat, relieved that the keys were still in the ignition. Rookie mistake.

You turned the key, bringing the car to life with a roar before you revved the engine trying to draw the resistance attention towards you. Joel and Ellie were still hidden behind the dumpster, but you could see them watching you before bullets suddenly sprayed into the side of the car.

"Time to go." You said to yourself, pushing the gear stick into drive before you put your foot down on the gas and sped off.

You could see the men running after you through the revision mirror as you drove in the opposite direction of the bridge. Gunfire rained down on the car, smashing the back window behind you.

You managed to get a few streets away before the tyres got shot out and the next thing you knew, the hood of the car was slamming into the light post on the side of the road.

The airbags went off instantly, hitting your face harder than you thought they would. Pain blossomed across your nose, and you could feel something wet trickling down your chin. You didn't need to lick your lips to know that your nose was bleeding.

"Son of a bitch." You winced, pushing the already deflating airbag down.

The hood of the car was bent up so high from the impact that you could no longer see through the front windshield, but it didn't matter because the car was dead now anyway.

Suddenly, your car door swung open, and you were met by the barrel of a gun.

Your fingers twitched, itching to reach for the rifle that was looped over your shoulder with the gun strap, but you knew that would be pointless. So, you simply closed your eyes and leant your head back against the head rest and waited for the person to pull the trigger.

Joel and Ellie were probably at the bridge by now, they would be safe, and now you got to be with Henry and Sam again. It would all be okay.

"Hold your fire!"

You opened your eyes in confusion just as the man standing in front of you stepped to the side and Kathleen’s best friend appeared behind him.

Of course, it was her. Kathleen was dead, almost all the resistance was dead, but of course this woman survived and of course she found you. Fucking typical.

She didn't say anything, instead she leant down and grabbed your arm, hauling you out of the car with more strength than you thought she had. She shoved you down onto the road and your knees hit the bitumen, hard.

The gun strap was yanked off your shoulder, your rifle falling to the ground a few metres away before Kathleen’s best friend stepped in front of you. You couldn't even remember this woman’s name, but it didn't matter, not anymore.

You glanced around, noting three men standing off to the side with handguns strapped to their thighs.

"I am so glad we both survived that horde, so I can do this." She said, drawing her pistol from her holster.

"Just kill me and get it over with." You sighed, tilting your head up towards her.

She eyed you for a second before shaking her head and holstering her pistol.

"Don't worry, I will kill you. Just not yet. I want to capture your friends first."

Your heart stopped at her words.

No. Joel and Ellie were meant to be safe. That was the whole point of you distracting the resistance so that they would be safe.

"They're not part of this. They're just random innocent people-"

"No one who's friends with a FEDRA soldier are innocent." She snapped, nostrils flaring as she glared down at you. "My men are already hunting them down as we speak."

Shit.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N- This chapter and the next are inspired by a certain 'bridge' scene in the video game, but the rest of this story will be more based on the show (yes, I know the show is based on the game, but I'm basing this fic more from the show)

Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying this story! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments ❤️

#joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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sneezeshame · 9 months

Text

someone who, like clockwork, always catches a horrible head cold at the same time of winter each year that can and will always morph into a mess of infections that last around 2 weeks if they don’t catch it early, and for the most part they’ve planned extensively so there’s a whole section of a cupboard just stocked with nyquil, a bathrobe, tissues, a humidifier, canned chicken soup, ice packs, etc so they can stay home on days 1-4 and avoid the inevitable 10 days stuck sick in bed, but one year they’re away on a trip when it hits and by the time they get home to their partner it’s already day 3 and although their partner breaks into the cupboard and tries to help it’s all clearly too little too late, their fading fast into a miserable sniffly mess and look terrible and can barely talk right from the congestion, and on day 4 they’re running a fever and can barely sniff right or hear out their ears. since theyve started dating their partner always thought it was a bit overcautious for them to take to bed at the first sniffle, but the resulting sinus infection/ear infection/bronchitis/laryngitis/massive head cold really is as bad as they warned. one miserable doctor’s appointment later, they’re on bedrest for the next week, making full use of their emergency stores, and are taking several kinds of antibiotics, and that’s on top of everything else. ice packs on their head and sinuses, humidifier on high at all times, snoring so loud their partner can hear it down the hall, coughing and sneezing everywhere, it’s like the virus has turned their whole head and chest into one big inflamed mess filled with snot they now have to struggle to expel and breathe around as they try to sleep it off...just couldn’t catch it in time

#snz

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Hey babes!!! I’ve been on vacay so im trying to get caught up on your post 😂 but i saw your prompt lists and i think 3 5 18 or 19 with LOTS of angst and a happy ending would be AMAZINGGGGG🫠🤍

OMG Hi Bestie!

Remember when I put this prompt list out there? I barely do! It was like 6 weeks ago, that's why! I've been AWFUL and finishing the 500 follower celebration. I got so hung up on finishing Lavender and Beskar Doll and starting Yearling and going on vacation that I still have requests from this sitting in my inbox... and I'm now at 946 followers 🫠🫠🫠

BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST! @encephalitiskat also requested prompt number 3 and I came up with this little non-canon angsty trip outside the QZ for Doc and Joel. I hope you like it!

Lost and Found

You and Joel run into trouble on a run outside the QZ. Based on prompt 3: “I almost lost you.”

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Lavender pairing)

CW: Canon-typical violence. Threat of SA. Minors DNI, 18+ Only.

Length: 2.4k

You tried to avoid winter runs as much as you could. For starters, it was cold. Even after years in Boston, part of you still longed for the warm weather of your college years in Texas. At least your apartment had heat, you could curl up under your quilt with a cup of tea. Sometimes, Tommy would come over and you’d keep each other warm and the cold was suddenly inviting.

But you weren’t at home. No, you were on a run, one that Tess and Tommy had both stayed back from. Tommy had some Firefly thing to take care of, Tess had broken her arm on the last job. That left you and Joel.

Out in the cold.

Outside Boston.

And you were miserable.

“Keep up,” Joel looked over his shoulder at you, scowling, as usual. He was always fucking scowling.

“You have longer legs than me,” you were panting for breath, hot below your heavy coat in spite of the frigid air. “I don’t like being stuck out here with you any more than you like being stuck out here with me but I’d rather not get so exhausted racing through snow that we don’t make it back to Boston.”

“If we’re makin’ it back to fuckin’ Boston alive we need to move faster than you’re movin’ so keep. Up.”

You ground your teeth but tried to listen. Even though you knew you’d get your way before too long. It was going to be dark soon, the sun already low in the sky, and you were at least four hours from the QZ.

Even though that was going to mean another night on the road with Joel.

Joel, who hated you. Fucking hated you. Hated you so much that the last two nights you’d been outside the QZ he glared at you or ignored you entirely. You could feel it pouring off him, the loathing.

You’d thought you’d have gotten used to it by now. But it hurt. It hurt every single time. You’d loved him what felt like your whole life, with your whole being. Even after you found out about what he’d done before he’d come to the QZ, you loved him so damn much that you’d set it aside within yourself. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered, all that mattered was that he had made it this far alive and you could forgive almost anything if it led to that.

The hate you could take. Most of the time, anyway. The indifference, though. The total lack of anything in his eyes and on his face, like he was looking right through you, like you didn’t exist. That was worse. That alone, you thought, could kill you.

You tried not to think about it, not to linger on it. It turned your stomach to knots and sent your mind down paths you knew you should avoid, especially when you were outside the QZ and facing the threat of infected and raiders.

It made your guard low. Even when you knew you should pay close attention to Joel’s deaf side - the ear you couldn’t whisper in during the year he could tolerate your presence in the QZ - you didn’t.

Not until it was too late.

You sensed the raider a split second before you felt him, heard him, smelled him. His hand closed around your wrist and pulled you sharply to the ground, his body all but materializing out of the trees beside you, their shadows so long and dark you hadn’t seen him. You hadn’t been paying attention.

“Joel!” You shrieked as you fell. “Run!”

You had a moment where you relieved about his indifference. He’d leave you there if he didn’t care, he’d get out if he didn’t care. You weren’t stupid, you knew you were a vulnerability in situations like this. It’s why he didn’t want to take you to begin with. You dragged him, Tess and Tommy down. Tommy was stupid enough to put himself on the line to keep you safe but Joel, you were certain, would get the fuck out before he was overrun or hurt.

You were wrong.

He spun toward you, his gun raised as three other men came out from the trees. One went right for Joel from the side - when he was too busy focusing on you - and slammed into him, sending him to the ground.

The man who had you pawed at you, pulling at your pack and fumbling for your weapon in your waistband before you had a chance to go for it. He yanked your pack off and you tried to crawl away but he grabbed your ankle and yanked you back, making you shriek again.

“Such a pretty thing,” the man all but fell on top of you, knocking the air out of you. He grabbed your braid and pulled your head back, his teeth against the soft skin of your cheek. “Can think of all kinds of uses for you…”

You slammed your elbow back into him as best you could and he grunted in what sounded like a combination of shock and pain. You were able to shove him off of you and clamber to your feet to see the other three men trying to contain Joel.

You didn’t even think about it, didn’t think about the fact that it was stupid as hell, that you didn’t know how to fight worth a damn, that you’d never killed anything but infected. You just saw Joel, on the ground, overwhelmed, being hit again and again and you acted in the only way you could think to act. You launched yourself at the nearest man, your arms going around his neck until you heard him cough and gag, digging his fingers into your forearms as you clung to him for dear life. You sank your teeth into his neck and he let out a strangled yelp as he tried to dislodge you.

He stumbled back from Joel, you still wrapped around his back, when he gave up on pulling your arms free from his neck. Instead, he reached back and grabbed your shirt at the nape of your neck by the fistful with one hand, your braid with the other, ripping you up and over his shoulder and throwing you like a rag doll into a tree.

“Fucking bitch!” He was panting and you couldn’t seem to get your body to cooperate quite yet. Your head was spinning and you were trying to sit up but everything hurt, everything. You were seeing double and both versions of the man were stalking toward you, freeing the knife at his belt. “Not even worth fuckin’ but I bet your man would hate to hear you scream…”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Joel shrieked, something unhinged in his voice. You couldn’t get your eyes to focus, everything beyond the man prowling for you jagged and unclear. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you, touch her and I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”

The man ignored him, going down on one knee next to your place on the ground like some kind of perverse proposal. He smiled and you could see the rot on his teeth.

“Maybe you are worth fuckin’,” he held the knife up. “Just to piss off your boyfriend…”

“He won’t care,” you shook your head, doing your best to scramble back from him, your body still not ready to listen after being thrown and hitting your head. “He’s not my… he won’t care, I’m not worth it, remember?”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, forcing a small yelp from you as he yanked your head back. There was blood on the snow, you realized. Your blood, from where you’d hit your head.

“Startin’ to think you are worth it,” he slid the knife over your coat, cutting it open at the zipper. “Might just need to keep you…”

You kicked and caught him on the side, making him groan and you rushed to pull yourself away as he grabbed your ankle. You could hear the struggle of Joel with the other men and your heart was pounding, the terror thrumming through you.

This was it. You’d been so busy longing for Joel you’d gotten him killed. He was going to die and you were going to end up enslaved by raiders, the exact thing he’d said would happen if you left the QZ. Joel was going to die and it was your fault.

He pulled you back toward him and he forced you onto your back before straddling your hips, his heavy weight pressing you down into the earth and you wanted it to swallow you, wanted to do anything that would make this ending different.

You barely noticed that the struggle with Joel and the other men had gone quiet when the man on you was ripped away from you. He cried out, shocked, and Joel threw him on the ground.

“Told you I’d fuckin’ kill you,” Joel panted, blood dripping from his mouth. He shot the man before he had a chance to respond.

He put the gun in his waistband before he went for you, eyes running up and down your body again and again in the seconds it took to reach you.

You were desperately trying not to panic, trying to not devolve into something that couldn’t handle itself and would just get left in the woods outside the city. You wouldn’t make it back on your own, you didn’t have the skills and you weren’t sure how badly you were hurt.

He dropped to his knees beside you, one hand going to your ribs, the other going to your face, his gloved thumb brushing your bleeding temple.

“Joel,” you couldn’t seem to keep your voice steady. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to swallow. “Joel, if you’re leaving me out here, please give me a gun at least I can’t…”

“Not leavin’ you,” he said. “Need you to tell me how to check for a concussion.”

You opened your eyes again at that, brows knitting together as you looked at him.

“What…”

“Concussion,” he repeated. “C’mon, Baby, walk me through how to check for one…”

“Um,” you had to close your eyes to focus. He was so close, he looked so afraid. “Blurred or double vision, eye strain, light sensitivity, pupils that aren’t dilating properly, eye movement, confusion and inability to focus, loss of consciousness.”

“Right, OK,” he said. He sounded afraid, too, why was he so afraid? It was Joel, it didn’t make sense for him to be this afraid. “Gotta open your eyes for me, Baby, alright? Tell me how many fingers you see, OK?”

You opened your eyes and he was holding up three fingers. You answered and he nodded, looking relieved. He used his flashlight as dusk started to fade to check your pupils. He seemed satisfied with those, too.

“Know who you are?” He asked. “Where you are? Who you’re with?” You nodded. He looked insistent. You sighed and said your name before going down the rest of the list in order.

“I’m outside the Boston QZ,” you said. “With Joel Miller… please don’t just leave me out here, Joel, I know you hate me but…”

“Don’t hate you,” he cut you off. You frowned. He ignored it. “Think you can walk? Not far from a suburb, we can find a place for the night there…”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Yeah, I can walk.”

He pulled you to your feet and you had to lean on him for a moment to catch your balance. But when you tried to pull away, his grip on you remained. He held onto you with one hand, his gun clutched in the other, waiting for someone else to come out of the woods.

“Are you OK?” You asked, looking up at him. “There were so many of them on you and…”

“M’Fine.”

He was still holding onto you.

The suburbs Joel mentioned were close and it didn’t take long to find a house that met whatever standard Joel was looking for. You weren’t arguing. Your head was starting to swim and you were pretty sure it was because you were losing blood.

“On the counter,” Joel ordered once you were both safely inside and he’d locked everything down and closed all the curtains. He put his hands on your waist and helped you up before stepping between your legs to look at your injured head. You tried not to think about it.

“You’re gonna be OK Baby,” he said. He still sounded so worried. You frowned. Why? “Gonna get you cleaned up, patch this up…”

“Joel,” you began, but he cut you off.

“I almost lost you,” he took your head in his hand, his fingers curling around the base of your skull and around your neck as he brought his forehead to your own. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Can’t lose you, Baby, I can’t. You gotta stay with me, OK? Please, I’ll beg if I have to but you can’t leave me, not like this, OK? Don’t make me lose you, please. Can’t lose you…”

“Not going anywhere,” you said gently, chest tight. “I promise.”

He pulled back from you with a nod and went about the business of patching you up to get the bleeding at your head under control.

“Joel,” you said as he finished and he dropped his forehead to your own again, his body so close to your own. “I don’t understand…”

“I’ve been a fuckin’ idiot,” he said softly. “I’ve been so goddamn stupid. But I’m so scared, I’m so scared all the fucking time with you. Thought if I pushed you away hard enough and far enough that I could live with it but I can’t… I can’t lose you and I almost lost you and I’m done being a fuckin’ idiot with you. I know I don’t deserve it, I know you’ve got no reason to trust me at all, but… if you can find a way to let me back into your life. I don’t care how, I’ll be whatever you want me to be to you but please, don’t let me lose you. Please, Baby.”

You reached up, running your fingers through his curls, and gently pulled his lips to yours. He kissed you soft and slow and gentle and he still felt like home against your body.

“Can’t lose me, Joel,” you whispered. He nodded against you before kissing you again for a moment before you could continue. “I’m yours. Always have been, always will be.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #follower celebration

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cutelittleleftoverghosts · 1 year

Text

duvet~ Joel Miller x fem!reader chap. 1

masterlist~

warnings~ blood mentioned, death mentioned, violence, please lmk if i missed any!

wordcount~ 3.0k+

And all the fears you hold so dear Will turn to whisper in your ear...

Rain soaked your shirt, the once crisp white now smearing with mud and scarlet. Pushing bag your bangs you bit your lip, drawing blood as you curse silently. Turning on your heel to leave you pause before retrieving something from the floor, the silver shining as it passes the dim light of the lamp whose wax was now spilling to the ground.

Taking a deep breath you grip your bag tighter and reach down to close the still open pair of once green eyes, which are now a cloudy white, and then run.

Your feet don't take you for admittedly, not even ten feet later you're crouched in the dirt after slipping in a puddle of mud, bile hanging in the back of your throat. You try to choke it back, tears brimming in your eyes, but fail miserably as the rain picks up in tempo. Wiping your mouth you push back the hot tears now falling down your cheeks as you choke back a sob, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone, or anything.

And then you begin the walk back.

After reaching the outer limits of the QZ you give the perimeter a once-over. Guards posted everywhere, like normal, you think to yourself before one of them squints in your direction and begins to walk over. Panicking you back up, nearly tripping over your own feet when you notice him stopping, a man, woman, and girl standing in front of him. You flinch when the man rushes the guard, punching him again and again before the rest are alerted.

"Joel, she's infected!" the woman calls out as she turns to run.

But the man ignores her and ushers them forward and under a school bus, obscuring them from your view.

"Well, there goes my plan on getting home before curfew," you mutter to yourself as you crouch down and attempt to grab your bag.

But before you can you hear the sound of running. Looking up you see the group leaving.

Glancing back at the compound you bite your lip and make the decision to run after them. Your now dry shoes slam against the dirt as you run, trying to catch up when you hear a loud bang, and then everything goes dark as you fall forward.

As you struggle to regain your senses, your head throbbing with pain, you realize that you've been shot. You try to stand up, but your legs feel weak, and you stumble back down to the ground. You hear footsteps approaching, and then a pair of hands grab you roughly by the shoulders, dragging you to your feet.

You look up to see the man who had attacked the guard earlier, his face twisted in anger. "What are you doing here?" he demands, his breath hot on your face.

"I-I was just trying to get home," you stammer, trying to pull away from him. But he holds you tightly, his grip like a vise.

Coughing you taste the metallic tang of blood and bring a hand to your lips, your fingers a dark crimson when you take them away.

"W-what," you gasp as you look down, your shirt now completely red as the blood dripped down your waist.

Hyperventilating you feel dizzy as a woman shoves him to the side and raises your shirt, "Shit," she whispers as she puts pressure on the wound, "Grab my bag."

You can feel your vision growing darker as she gets to work, carefully pulling the bullet out of your wound before grabbing a bottle of clear liquid.

"This is going to hurt," she warns before pouring the liquid over your wound, causing you to scream out in agony. But it's over quickly, and she begins to wrap your wound tightly with a bandage.

You're barely conscious, but you can feel yourself being lifted up and carried away. You don't know where they're taking you, but at this point, you're too weak to care. The rain continues to pound against your skin, but all you can feel is the pain in your side.

As you drift in and out of consciousness, you hear snippets of conversation around you. They're discussing your injuries, and you hear the woman say that she's done what she can for you but that you need to get medical attention soon. You feel a sense of panic wash over you as you realize the severity of your wound.

The rain seems to be getting worse, and you can hear thunder in the distance. You're jostled around as the group hurries along, and you can feel the chill of the wet air seeping into your bones.

You try to stay awake, but your body is exhausted, and the pain is overwhelming. You feel yourself slipping away, and the last thing you hear is the sound of the rain as it continues to fall around you.

The next thing you know, you're waking up in a dimly lit room, your head still throbbing with pain. You try to sit up, but a sharp pain in your side makes you gasp and fall back down.

"Hey, take it easy," a voice says from beside you, and you turn to see the woman who had helped you earlier. "You're lucky to be alive, you know."

You nod weakly, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her. "Thank you," you whisper hoarsely, your throat sore from screaming earlier.

"Don't mention it," she says her eyes nervous as she stands.

You can hear her frantic whispers to the man as the girl sits down across from you. She crosses her arms as she opens her bag and starts to eat.

"So, what were you doing outside back inside the QZ?" she questions as she takes another bite of her sandwich, her expression bored.

Sighing you shrug, "You mean what was I doing outside the QZ," you pause to cough, throat still dry from earlier.

Her brow raises, her interest now clearly piqued as she puts her food back in her bag, "You weren't trying to leave?"

Laughing bitterly you whisper, "No," thinking about the events of the last week.

You open your mouth to say more, but get interrupted when the woman looks down at you and holds out her hand, "I'm Tess, this is Joel," she says hurriedly.

Her expression is full of faux politeness as she helps you up, "Careful you don't want to rip your stitches."

Nodding you steady yourself and reach for your bag, but a hand grabs your wrist, and you flinch.

"What were you doing outside the QZ?"

Wrenching your hand out of his grip you frown.

You shrug again, "Just exploring?" you offer, hoping he doesn't hear how shaky your voice is.

Joel gives you a skeptical look, but Tess steps in, "She's not a threat, Joel. She's injured and what's she going to do?"

Joel still seems wary, but he nods in agreement. "Fine, but once she's healed, she's on her own."You nod in understanding, grateful for their help but not wanting to overstay your welcome.

You nod in understanding, grateful for their help but not wanting to overstay your welcome.

Walking out the front door you feel tears brimming in your eyes as Ellie's widen, "Wow."

"Yeah, pretty different in the daylight," Tess comments as you start to walk past them, only occasionally feeling a sharp pain in your stomach.

"We should get movin'," Joel says as he passes you.

It doesn't take too long to get stopped as Tess and Joel begin to debate which way is better.

"So the museum is across there. It's about a ten-minute walk if you go straight."

"Long way or short way?" Jpel asks as he looks out across the abandoned buildings.

"I mean, it's the long way or 'we're fuckin' dead' way," says, Tess as she tightens her grip on her backpack.

"Well, I vote the long way based on that limited information," Ellie chimes in as your mind spins.

To you, the choice was obvious, the short way. Mainly because the last time you came through, the long way was crawling with clickers, the short way not so much. Sure there were a few, but nothing you and your brother couldn't handle.

Feeling your stomach churn you blurt out, "Short way," and Tess and Joel just stare at you like you're crazy.

Clearing your throat, you continue, "It's just, when I came through and then came back, there weren't nearly as many clickers as there were on the long way."

They look at you skeptically and Joel scoffs, "We have to check it from the hotel first. For all I know, you might be trying to get us killed."

Biting your lip you sigh in annoyance, "I'm not, I was there-"

Tess places a hand on your shoulder, interrupts you, and starts walking. Groaning you follow them, already knowing what awaits you.

"Where the fuck are they already?" Ellie asks as you weave in between the abandoned and broken down cars.

"You'll know it when they're close," Tess says looking around.

"I didn't know last time," Ellie replies as Tess turns to her.

"How did you get bit?"

Flinching your grip tightens on your bag, your head spinning you stop in your tracks and stare.

"The fuck," you breathe out nearly tripping over your shoes as you back up, and feel something solid hit your back.

A pair of hands land on your shoulders, steadying you as Tess explains. You nod, but don't believe a word she says as you shove Joel's hands away.

Apparently, they had discussed it when you were unconscious, which made it more suspicious to you, but hey you were lucky they hadn't left you to die.

It doesn't take long before you reach your destination, an abandoned hotel that's just as flooded, if not more than when you'd last seen it. You sigh as you realize your wound might get infected when wading through it when Ellie groans, "You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Wait are we going in there?" she questions as Joel steps into the water.

"Yeah we gotta get to the stairwell on the other side," Tess says before cursing under her breath, "Shit, your wound."

Ellie looks back at you, concerned, "Will it get infected? I mean, the water's probably crawling with bacteria and stuff."

Nodding at your wound she frowns, "You think it'll be okay?"

"Um, maybe? I'm not sure," you reply, feeling a bit anxious about the whole situation.

Joel turns around and looks at you, "We don't have much of a choice. We'll have to take the risk."

With a deep breath, you step into the murky water and try to keep your wound as dry as possible. The water is cold and the stench is overwhelming, but you keep moving forward, following Tess and Joel through the flooded hotel.

And that's when you feel your feet slip and your body falls forward, the cold water soaking your hair as you clench your eyes shut and stand. Feeling a hand on your back you try to rub your eyes as you cough up water.

As you stand back up, you feel the sharp pain in your stomach intensify. You groan, clutching your wound, as Tess rushes over to check on you. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

"I'm fine," you say, trying to catch your breath. "It's just my wound...it hurts."

Tess nods, her eyes scanning your body for any signs of further injury. "We need to get out of this water," she says, turning to Joel. "We can't risk your wound getting infected."

He sighs in frustration before you feel yourself being lifted up. Feeling a blush rise to your face, "Put. me. down."

He scoffs, and continues walking, ignoring your grumbling.

You can't help but feel embarrassed as Joel carries you out of the water and onto dry land. You feel like a burden, slowing them down and putting them in danger with your injury. But you push those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand.

As you walk through the hotel, you can feel the tension in the group rising. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional splash of water. You try to keep your mind off the pain in your stomach and the fear of what might be lurking in the shadows.

Finally, you reach the stairwell and start to make your way up. It's a slow and painful climb, but you're grateful for the break from the water. As you reach the top, you're greeted by a locked door.

"Fuck," Tess mutters, trying to force it open. "It's jammed."

You flinch as you lean against the wall, the pain worsening as she looks up, "We'll have to go up."

"Hey, maybe I should? I am the smallest one here," Ellie says as she raises her hand.

Tess shakes her head and climbs up.

Shifting nervously on your feet you flinch at something poking into your shoulder, turning you meet eyes with Joel, an old and battered first aid kit in his hand.

Taking it so carefully as if it's made of glass you thank him, "Thank you," and turn away to lift up your shirt, blood now free flowing down your waist, staining your jeans.

Groaning you grab the bottle of clear liquid and bite down on the hem of your shirt before a hand snatches it from you, "Let me, you'll spill it with your hand shaking like that."

Joel's voice is low and steady, lacking the usual gruffness. You look up at him, surprised by his gentle demeanor, and nod gratefully as he pours the liquid onto your wound.

You grit your teeth as the alcohol stings, but you know it's necessary to prevent infection. Joel wraps a clean bandage around your waist, securing it tightly. "You okay?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, grateful for his help. "Yeah, thanks," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

The door knob starts to turn and then opens with a bang, revealing Tess shaking her head.

"No," is all she says as you follow her through the door.

A small tarp covered patio greets you, neon green chairs and tables perfectly arranged as if the world hadn't come to a sudden halt. You smile as your hand runs over one of the chairs, then freeze when you see over the balcony.

"Hell," you whisper as you look down.

There were twice as many as last time, no maybe five times more, and it hadn't even been a week.

"So, short way it is," Ellie laments as you all turn to exit the hotel.

The museum stands in front of you, surrounded by an air of desolation. You can't help but feel a sense of dread as you approach it, remembering the last time you had stepped foot inside. The group moves cautiously, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger.

As you make your way inside, the air is thick with the smell of decay and the sounds of clicking and growling. You tighten your grip on your knife, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can hear Joel and Tess moving ahead of you, and then they come to a stop. Motioning you forward. You feel your stomach sink when you catch sight of a clicker, the familiar grey shirt stained red, and the once piercing green eyes now a cloudy white. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you take a step back, and knock over a glass.

The sound of shattering glass echoes through the quiet museum, and the clicker's head snaps in your direction. It starts to move towards you, its clicking becoming louder and more frenzied. You freeze, your mind racing as you try to come up with a plan.

Just as it's about to latch its teeth into your neck, Joel opens fire on it, the sound of gunfire ringing in your ears as you step back as he screams, "Run!"

You can feel your hands shake as another one runs at you and Ellie, Tess shoots at it, and then you run. You feel a sharp pain on your arm and bite back a scream as one of the clickers sinks its teeth into your arm. Wrenching your arm free you stab at it and run again, nearly tripping over a table as you hear a thud coming from another room.

"Fuck," you whisper as you push your sleeve back, "Fuck fuck fuck fuck," you carefully pull the sleeve back down and leave the room, eyes scanning for any other clickers.

You stop when you see Joel and Ellie crouched behind a cabinet and go take a step in when you hear the crunching of glass. You watch in horror as it jumps down from the table and lands on Ellie, its mouth mere inches from her face, and to them.

Light flashes as Joel pulls out his pistol and fires, the clicker falling limp to the ground. He pulls Ellie up, checking her over for any injuries, and another one comes running in, this time Tess slashing it in the head with a hatchet as Joel finishes it off.

"You all right?" he asks Tess as he looks up from the corpse.

She sighs, her breathing labored, "Twisted ankle, but yeah."

"You all right?" she asks looking to you.

You open your mouth to respond but Ellie beats you to it, "Well, I didn't shit my pants so," she trails off as she looks down at her arm, a fresh bite mark in the middle of it, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

You shove away the urge to involuntarily itch at your own bite, and look to the floor.

"I mean, if it was gonna' happen to one of us."

"Hey," Tess interrupts, nodding her head at the door, "Let's get the fuck outta here."

And with that Joel opens the window, letting in warm rays of the sun.

hello! thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, please comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

requests open!

just leave a comment, dm or ask! currently writing for the last of us hbo.

taglist~

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou joel #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel tlou #i love pedro pascal

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pandoa · 2 years

Note

May irequest for your flower event

Asters ~ “i am willing to wait. i will remain by your side, loyal only to you”

And

Cherry blossoms ~ “your imperfections are what make you simply irresistible”

For azul but his s/o is saying this

Asters ~ “i am willing to wait. i will remain by your side, loyal only to you”

Cherry blossoms ~ “your imperfections are what make you simply irresistible”

~azul ashengrotto x gender neutral reader~ warnings: angst/comfort for our dearest octo boy <3 azul and the reader are also in an established relationship

hello anon! i just wanted to say that i absolutely loved writing this. azul deserves all the comfort he can get and i'm so glad that i was able to write for this side of him. enjoy!

♡Blossom Grove Prompt Event♡

♡know that i am here♡

It was one of those dreary days where the sun refused to emerge from the curtains of gloomy clouds in the overcast sky. The atmosphere was filled with a sweltering dampness that irritated your skin as the wind softly whispered its darkest secrets into your itching ears. Raindrops pattered against the windows with an uneven rhythm. Thunder roared and rumbled through the ground. No one wished to remain out in these unpleasant conditions, and you and Azul were no exception.

Maybe it was the colorless way the trees hung low over the creaking roof of your room at Ramshackle. Perhaps it was the howling shouts of the storm creating a crestfallen mood on all who encountered it. Or it mayhaps could have been the dreadful emptiness surrounding the usually lively Night Raven campus. Whatever it had been, all you were certain of was that it left your dear boyfriend, Azul, to be distraught by his occasional waves of insecurity.

Huddled underneath a sound blanket in your rather cozy dorm room, Azul turned his face away from yours, clearly trying to prevent you from spotting the flowing tears welling up from his eyes. It was moments like this where he wished your gentle gaze would divert its attention to anything that was not himself. He detested the feeling of your worried stares pointed towards him and loathed the fact that you had to see him in such a frazzled state.

“I’m afraid you do not understand,” Azul said as he buried himself in the warm covers of your bed. “I am weak, I am ugly. I may appear to be worthy now; however, deep down I know that I will always remain as the pathetic little merman trapped inside a silly octopus pot like the crybaby I truly am.”

Extending your hand out to cradle his contrastingly cold palm, you grasped Azul’s figure, determination evident in your demeanor. “Azul, look at me. You know none of that matters.” You proclaimed assertively as you peered into your boyfriend’s fallen expression, making sure to maintain an intimate eye contact with the young man. “I love you.”

“How could you love a miserable thing like me?”

“Well, first off,” you began as you placed a concentrating finger against your chin, “you are incredibly intelligent. Look at all the accomplishments your younger self has achieved. Your brilliant mind never ceases to amaze me.”

Azul then peeked his head out from the soft disposition of your blankets at the validating reassurance of your words. Did you really think that? A small part of him wished for you to continue, filling him with a certain sense of warmth gathering within his stomach.

“And your octopus form? All the more arms for you to wrap around my waist in a snuggly embrace,” you whispered into the light-gray locks of the fragile second year before you, caressing each troubling thought that infected Azul’s mind with your own sweet sentences.

“The tears you shed only prove that you are comfortable enough to let yourself be free around me. Do you know just how much pride I get from knowing that you allow yourself to lower your guard around me for the sole reason being that you trust me?” you asked with genuine fondness weaved into your heartwarming voice.

“Your imperfections are what make you simply irresistible. Please do not think that there is a need for you to hide them.”

Azul, who had finally emerged from his place burrowed in your bed, lifted his wavering gaze to your knowing one as he relaxed. “I will try… I suppose. However, there are no promises that I’ll expose them right away. I must have time.”

“Of course. Take all the time that you need. I am willing to wait. I will remain by your side, loyal only to you.”

Running an emollient hand through Azul’s hair, you pulled his form closer to yours in a long overdue embrace that left the Octavinelle housewarden yearning for more of your delicate touches of affection. The emotions you evoked out of Azul seeped out of the boy in an uncharacteristic manner regardless of whether he wanted them to or not. Feelings of a swelling passion growing in his heart, feelings of overwhelming courage in his step, and finally, feelings of weakness that was not necessarily a bad thing when only shown to you, his lover.

Vulnerability.

a/n: woooooo two azul requests in a row lol

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul twisted wonderland #azul twst #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x y/n #octavinelle #gender neutral reader #blossom grove prompt event #twst angst

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fleet-off · 9 months

Text

yet another Off the Handle excerpt

from the one where Vegas over-reacts following a dishwasher argument.

Pete drops to his knees, skin showing pink like a burn in his cheeks and the tops of his ears as he lets Vegas apply his sunscreen.

His arms rest across Vegas’s lap, muscles firm against his fingertips. It’s more body contact than they’ve had in nearly a week and it aches a little, the way casual touch does when it’s Pete.

“I don’t need it,” he’s saying, although not particularly protesting, “I spent a lot of time indoors the last few years, but I can handle some sun.”

Vegas massages lotion into his cheeks. “...You’d tell me if you noticed something wrong with your skin.”

“What, like an infection?”

“A rash, a weird mole…”

Pete gives him a funny look. “Yeah, I’d tell you if I were worried about skin cancer.” He butts his face against Vegas’s hand, shocking enough that Vegas nearly jolts back. He gentles his palms for Pete’s face to nestle against. “Really, don’t you think you’d notice first? You know my skin better than I do—you and your mole-biting and your weird ingrown-hair thing.”

Vegas bites back a retort. He shouldn’t have to defend his kinks—they both know Pete’s are weirder. “Tell me anyway,” he says.

Pete frowns. “Sure.” Softening up, “Odd to think of a future long enough that we have to worry about cancer.”

“…Yeah,” Vegas says thickly, and, “Turn around, I need to do your neck.”

Pete’s neck is sweaty already—it really is miserably hot. “We’ll leave by eleven,” Vegas tells him. “Pick up lunch on our way home.”

He pats Pete on the shoulder when he finishes and receives an unexpected kiss on the cheek for the trouble—doesn’t know what to do with it, after days of tension and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Probably he looks a little sunstruck, because Pete smiles and flicks his nose. “Sure you don’t want to get in the water?” he asks. “Just up to your knees? It’ll cool you off.”

“Have fun,” Vegas says, picking up his novel and the pieces of his composure. “And get Macau back here for his turn, will you? He has our mother’s skin.”

#kinnporsche #vegaspete #fanfiction #mildly off-beat domestic-soft but oh i'm looking forward to how that last line's going to *bite* once readers have the full fic for context #<3

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moonlight-rider25 · 2 years

Text

Down with the sickness! part 1

Summary: Part of the Eadith’s Lady series

Eadith is exsposed to a frightening sickness, she needs her own room at the inn; leaving you alone with the boys and to fend for yourself. What will this ‘alone time’ result in? Stay tuned for part 2 to find out!

Word count: 5219

Warnings: PG 13+, mentions of dead bodies, angst, bits of lust.

You’ve been in Glastonbury for two days now; the pained and ill seeking you out at every hour of the day. Eadith and yourself have gotten little rest since arriving and you’re both on edge of hearing from multiple mouths there's a family West of town plagued with “the sickness”. So far, none of your patients have been showing signs of the sickness but the townspeople speak of the bizarre illness that has all but wiped out the large family. The words they speak to you make it hard not to fill your brain with worry. You desperately try to extinguish any more thought of the nonsense as you’re bandaging up an older gentleman's arm in a sling.

“The devil himself is spewing from their bodies!’’ The man before you says elaborately with his one good arm.

“Alright, Mr. Tompson, be sure to stay away from the house, and be sure to bathe often.” You tell the man trying to ignore the irrational comments he's telling you.

Eadith casts you another unhopeful look as she turns to drop another tooth from the poor woman whose mouth is infected with rot.

“It is but superstition..” Uhtred says under his breath behind you to Osferth.

You turn and send them a slight smile trying to show your agreement there is nothing to worry about, but inside you have your own known fears that illnesses can come and go quite abruptly, often leaving little to no survivors in its tracks.

Eadith has finished with the lady's mouth and is wiping her hands as best she can on her apron as she approaches you.

“Still at the inn are they?” She asks, referring to Finan and Sihtrick who are too scared to be in the sunlight with any talk of sickness.

Eadith chuckles at your remark and the men cast each other confused looks.

“Of course" You reply with a smirk. “Not sure why they seem to think they're safe surrounded by strangers in the dark and not in the open air..”

“Illnesses can spread quicker in confined…small areas” You tell the men. “They’re just as likely to pick up any sickness from the Inn as they are here in the open air with the sick.”

Osferth nods, though you're not sure if he truly understands what you’re telling him. Uhtred stares off into the distance watching the small gathering of people waiting their turn to be treated at the opening of the fence.

It's hot and miserable in the afternoon sun beats down on the thin tents canopy. You’re sure the remaining crowd of people will refuse to be turned away for a second day. You sigh and roll your sleeves back up trying desperately to gather the energy to stand there till the crowd has disappeared. Uhtred and Osferth get antsy sitting in the same spot for so long and walk around the town not too far out of ear shot. Eadith takes her chance and scurries over to you while you’re applying some ointment to a small child's chest and shoulders for a nasty sunburn.

“I’m going to ride out to this ‘house of sickness’ after we’re done here” She tells you quietly glancing around the crowd.

“Eadith no!” You tell her sharply.

“Oh come on, you can’t believe in this nonsense of ‘Gods Sickness’!” She says hastily.

“No, but I believe there are some illnesses even we, can not battle.” You tell her with a slight glare.

She sighs “What if it's just a poor outcast of the town in need of some hydration or better nutrition? We can’t leave them out there to die alone.” She says still quietly so the people around don't hear.

You shake your head and hope the young boy whose shirt you fastening backup does not understand what you and Eadith are speaking of.

“We’ll go.” You say finally, eyes scanning the remaining patients slightly calculating how much longer your day will be. “But you’re in charge of informing the men.” You inform her.

Eadith bites back a smirk on her lips while narrowing her eyes slightly, shaking her head.

You look back to the child

“Keep as much of your skin covered from the sun from now on, you hear me?” You inform him sternly with a smile.

He runs off back to his mother who inspects your work and nods in your direction before they turn to leave. Eadith and yourself quickly file through the remaining patients as the sun begins to fade. Uhtred and Osferth finally close the wooden fence and help you both gather your tools to bring back to the inn.

At the inn, you’re greeted by a very intoxicated Finan and Sihtric who are too eager to make your acquaintances. Osferth and Uhtred take seats next to them leaving you and Eadith to carry the remaining luggage back to your room. You fill your arms as full as possible and follow Eadith down the dimly lit hallway to your shared room.

“Don’t bother changing, just gather some fresh provisions and let's head out,” Eadith instructs you, already filling her bag with clean water and fresh herbs.

“Eadith, I really don’t have a good feeling about this...” You tell her hoping she’ll allow you to just eat and go to bed after another long day of endless caring for people.

“Please.” She asks you calmly. “I just need to make sure there is nothing we could do to help them.”

You sigh and rub your head trying to dismiss the tiredness growing in your mind. You allow your eyes to fall closed for a moment and open them to her face peering back at you with a helpless and desperate expression on it.

“It’s your fault if I die,” you tell her, half joking half warning.

She smiles and continues packing her bag with provisions and you follow her lead out the door.

You cloak your heads with your hoods and scurry through the crowded ale house, hoping not to be seen by the men. You make your way out to your horses and strap your supplies to them before mounting. Eadith is already off when you hear a faint cry of your name. You turn to find Osferth standing in the dimly lit doorway of the ale house, with a very concerned look on his face.

“The house to the West..” You tell him. “...I promise I won't let her do anything stupid.”

He nods but remains still with a slight frown on his face as he watches you ride off into the setting sun. As you ride fast, trying to catch up with Eadith you remind yourself what you told him. Don’t let her do anything stupid.

You finally arrive at an old-looking house barely standing by the looks of it, in the middle of nowhere. There are no lights on inside and no sign of life around outside. You hold out the old rusted lantern; for Eadith to strike to life and slowly make your way to the front door.

“Hello!?” Eadith yells out. “Is anyone here?” She asks, peering through the dark windows.

You gently push the front door open and see the same empty darkness you were greeted with outside.

“We are healers, is there anyone here who needs tending to?” You ask calmly inside the house.

The dark empty house sends a slight chill up your spine. No sounds fill the halls but the slight roar of the flame in your hand and the shuffling from your and Eadiths feet. You wrap your arm around Eadiths and walk further into the house. What little furniture that remains is thickly painted with dust and seems to have been undisturbed for quite some time. You peer around each of the small empty rooms seeing no signs of life.

“Do you truly believe someone could live here?” You ask her quietly, still scanning the room with the faint light.

“Humanity amazes me more and more each day…” She replies, peering around the house as well.

You bob through the few rooms of the dark empty house finding nothing but abandoned emptiness and thick dust causing you and Eadith to sniffle more and more.

“Well…I feel better knowing no one is suffering out here.” She tells you as you reach the front door again.

You both pause when you hear a slight thud outside. You turn to look at Eadith who seems to be curious, rather than terrified like you at the moment.

“Over there.” She says calmly looking out towards the side of the house.

You swallow hard telling yourself it's probably an animal or something as you trail behind her in the growing darkness. She stands before a small hastily built shed and you hear another ‘thud’. You both jump at the sound and look to Eadith as what you should do. She stares back at you with a worried look on her face before turning back to the small crooked door and reaching out for it. She rests her hand on the knob for a moment looking back at you.

“Please…Eadith” You tell her quietly.

She looks back to the door and turns the knob in her hand.

“DON’T!” You shout as the door swings open with a loud crash.

Out rushes a racoon with a few babies attached to her as she rushes past yours and Eadiths feet. You both step back in fright but are quickly distracted again by a large figure coming at you from the door frame. You gasp and jump back again while Eadith, closer to the door, still instinctively reaches out and catches the figure in her arms.

You stand gasping as the figure falls against her. Her face is terrified but she gently and carefully settles it politely on the ground before the two of you.

“Eadith!” You shriek.

She backs slowly away from the corpse, her chest rising and falling rapidly in fright. You hold the lantern to the body and see what you fear most. The corpse can't be more than a week old, by the smell and the fact that most of all the flesh is still intact, just discolored. There on the ground before you lay a tall deceased man; pale face and hollow eyes, sunken into his head from deterioration. His fingers are darkened and blacked, along with his nose and around his lips. His face has large gashes and sores on it, which make your stomach begin to turn; knowing what they’re a sign of.

“Eadith, you didn’t..” You turn to your friend frantically.

“I touched him.” She cuts you off bluntly. “I touched him, surely I am infected, stay away from me!” She instructs, backing away with tears streaming down her face.

“THE BLACK DEATH” Finan yells frantically.

“SHHH” you instruct him. “Please do not alarm the townspeople!” You hush him.

Uhtred grabs him by the arms and seats him harshly on the bench by the horse stalls.

“Plague..” Sihtric whispers to himself quietly while he stirs anxiously in place, combing his fingers through his hair with a terrified look on his face.

Osferth turns and looks to you with worry on his face but remains collected knowing now is not the time to be frantic. Eadith remains seated on her horse a few yards away from you and the men to ensure not to infect the rest of you, if it is indeed; plague.

“Eadith will bunker down for two days time.. alone!” You tell the men hushly in a calm voice. “We must keep her possible exposure quiet so as to not raise suspicion.”

“I told no one,” Osferth says quietly “Where you were headed..”

“Yes, so no one else needs to know Eadith… could have been exposed.”

“She touched the man! She's infected, she must be!” Finan blurts louder than you wish he would.

Uhtred again quiets the frantic man.

“I will get her settled in our room. I am to be the only one to come in contact with her or anything she touches.” You instruct the men. “I have been exposed before and I should have the best immunity out of us all.”

The men nod reluctantly. Saddened and disapproving looks on all their faces as they do.

“None of you are to breathe a word of any of this to anyone though.” You add sternly.

Sihtric turns away from the group, his hands on his head. “We’re all going to die!” He whispers panicked to Uhtred.

Uhtred shakes his head but casts you a concerned look and you take a deep breath before continuing to address the men.

“I need someone to make a distraction inside, so I can get Eadith into our room through the window, without watching eyes…”

You don’t even finish your sentence before Uhtred grabs the nearby ale cup and dumps it over Finan's head with a satisfied smirk.

Finan sputters and gasps from the dripping ale falling against his face.

“Shall we fight, my friend?” Uhtred asks, slapping Finan's shoulder playfully.

Finan stands and faces Uhtred briefly before Uhtred trails off towards the entrance of the ale house, Finan following behind, still wiping the liquid from his head.

“I believe that's your cue, my lady” Sihtric shouts before him and Osferth trail after them.

You rush to Eadiths side, carefully help her down from her horse trying to touch her as little as possible.

“Through the window, do you remember which one it is?” You ask her peering around to see all the other figures following Uhtred and Finan inside.

You scan the side of the building trying to remember which window your room leads to.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” You hear yelled from the inside of the inn.

“Fighting!?” Eadith asks, surprised.

“..Not quite what I had in mind, but it'll do,” You tell her hurrying up the hill to the alehouse in the dark.

With Eadith settled into your room, you wash up outside scrubbing over and over again trying to rid yourself of whatever possible germs could be lingering. The sun has been down for a few hours now and you desperately await a hot meal and a soft cot to rest your head. …when the realization hits you; Where are you to sleep?

The men are inside at a table gulping down ale, when you approach them.

“I won in case you were wondering, Y/N!” Finan informs you as you approach the group.

Uhtred shakes his head with a large smirk on his face.

“Very uneventful fight actually.” Sihtirc protests.

“Well, it served its purpose” You add with a quick grin. “However.” You continue glancing around at the men. “Where am I…”

You stop pondering the thought for a moment. You realize you cannot share a room with four men, that would not go over well at all in such a little town with the uproar of plague already in the air. The men are eagerly awaiting your response and you smile as you still turn the thoughts over in your mind.

“...Would someone mind fetching me a plate of food?..” You lie coyly.

Uhtred stands and makes his way towards the barkeep while you settle yourself in his seat. The men seem to have also forgotten the tiny tidbit of the fact that you’ll be forced to sleep outside alone tonight. You turn to Osferth quietly, trying not to attract attention to yourself from Finan and Sihtric.

“Could you possibly spare a blanket for me tonight Osferth?” You ask quietly.

He turns to you with a puzzled look.

“And, perhaps, not bring light of it to the others..!?” You add with a painful smile.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head to you.

“Yes, of course my lady” He says quietly.

You pat his hand softly with a small smile on your face. Osferth the meek, the kind, and the discrete. You never realized how much of an ally the baby monk would be to Eadith and yourself while wandering the road with warriors.

You finish your meal in peace as the men have headed for bed, you half disappointed, half exhausted and don't care, climb into the dry scratchy staw beneath the blanket Osferth had promised to leave you. The horses whimper amongst themselves and you try desperately to fall asleep, praying to all Gods that no man will stumble out in a drunken mess; eager to find a sleeping, unwatched lady alone. You hear a pack of coyotes in the distance and anticipate the horses pacing in their stalls around you, before you slowly drift off to sleep.

You awake to the shout of a man and sit upright out of your sleep. Panicked, you look around to find daylight peeking through the cracks in the horse stalls and figure the shouting must have come from outside. You gather yourself as best you can and flip the blanket off yourself revealing it being covered in straw and to your surprise, there being more than the one Osferth left for you. You peer around more carefully scanning the horse stalls and spy a pair of feet just outside the empty stall you chose to take for the night. You quickly stand and approach the feet, sure you are to find a recovering drunk man that you're lucky enough did not discover you in the dark. You stop when you see the closed peaceful eyes of the Warrior instead, laying without any blankets on the straw at your feet.

You quietly cover Uhtred in the blankets you peeled off yourself just moments ago, and try not to feed into the thoughts of how easily it could be just to slip in under them, besides him. Instead you smile to yourself and leave the nobel man to rest, sure he had a worse nights sleep than yourself; keeping watch over you throughout the night. You knew it would be near impossible for the men to allow you to sleep alone outside unguarded, but you also knew they needed their rest as much as you did. It had been far easier displacing all 4 of the men out to the stables than just leaving yourself. You wonder how Uhtred knew you'd be out here all alone. Surely, he had drank his fair share of ale last night like the other men. Regardless; the idea of him wandering around looking for you makes you smile a little more.

Inside the ale house; Sihtric, Finan and Osferth are gathered around chatting at a table.

“Morning, sunshine!” Finan yells playfully as you appear in the doorway.

“Have you seen Uhtred?” Osferth asks politely, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“I haven't..” You say biting the smirk off your lips as you strut over to the bar to gather food to bring to Eadith.

The men make no more note of Uhtred's absence and continue with their conversation while you carefully pluck the items from the counter and make your way down the hall to Eadith.

You tap lightly on the door and hear her faint voice behind it beckoning you in. You open the door slowly peeking in to make sure she's not too close as you enter.

“How are you feeling?” you ask her gingerly.

“Fine so far, thank heavens,” She tells you. “How do I look?” She teases turning a little.

“Fair and pale as usual.” You tease back with a giggle.

You place her meal upon the table closest to the door.

“Not feeling warm, feverish?” You ask looking a bit closer at her now to ensure she indeed is fine still.

“No, believe me, I am in high spirits to tell you I feel quite well!” She says before coughing into her hand harshly. “Just the dust,” she tells you with a slightly concerned tone.

You nod but feel your stomach begin to tighten reading the expression on her face.

“Well, you just take it easy and rest for now anyway,” You tell her kindly. “Please let me know if anything new arises,” You tell her before turning and leaving.

As you turn and latch the door behind you, you hear her faintly cough again from the other side of the door and you close your eyes gently before a single tear begins to trail down your cheek.

“Lord please!” you begin softly “Please, I beg you… spare her.”

You sit in the courtyard after half a day's work, the people have clearly all had their share of spreading gossip to the new people in town and can deal with their aching teeth and open wounds for now. The sun shines brightly and you feel your forehead dampen with sweat as you sit alone silently, thinking of your dear friend just a few yards away.

“Y/N.”

You turn and see Uhtred waltzing towards you. You quickly snap out of the dreadful mindset you’re in thinking of Eadith and wipe your forehead before he sits down next to you on the soft grass.

“How's Eadith?” He asks calmly as if he didn’t know that was precisely what you were thinking about.

“She’s good…” you say, peering down at your hands that are gently fiddling with a small twig in your lap.

“She…she was asleep when I brought her her midday meal..” You continue trying to tell as much of the truth without sounding alarmed.“...I’ll check on her again this evening and hopefully she will still be fine.”

“No signs of illness today…. That is a good sign she's not infected, yes?” He asks you, watching as you fiddle nervously with the twig.

“Yes.. No symptoms is a good sign..” You say softly, finally looking up to meet his striking blue gaze peering back at you.

He reaches out and softly encapsulates your hands in his, not breaking his intense stare.

“You’ll tell me the moment she shows symptoms… right?”

You hold your gaze with him for a moment and contemplate telling him the truth…but what good would it do, what’s done is done and no one can undo that. If Eadith is indeed sick with plaque, only time will tell if she’ll survive it or not, and currently, the survival rate is not on her side…

“...Of course,” you lie telling him finally, entranced in the blue glaciers that melt your heart.

He smiles warmly at you, satisfied with your answer, and peers down at his massive hands holding your little ones. He lightly brushes his rough fingertips across your knuckles before pulling them up and pressing a small light kiss on them. You smile faintly back, trying to shake the dreaded thoughts from your mind of Eadith, and quickly remember a subject that will do well at that.

“How'd you sleep last night?” Your smile growing more genuine.

His face begins to fluster as he smiles and shakes his head at you.

“Was it not cold without any blankets?” You ask sarcastically.

He nods while chuckling “It was, a bit I must admit.” he tells you gazing in different directions still laughing with you.

“How'd you know I was there?” You ask, calming your laughter a bit.

You smile while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and look back down at your hand in his.

“...I may have caught a baby monk sneaking a blanket out there for you..” He says with a smirk still rubbing your knuckles gently. “Did you really think I'd allow you to be left unguarded all night?”

“Do you really think someone would look out in the horse stables for an unguarded vulnerable lady?” You ask with a snicker.

“Of course not!” He says surly. “Not when they were met with my ugly arce on the floor in front of you!” He tells you laughing again. “I don’t think anyone would want to lay down beside me, there on the straw and manure..”

You flash your eyes up at him, biting desperately at your lip, recalling how easy it would have been to wake in the middle of the night and roll a yard or so in his direction and be snuggled up next to the man you crave with all your being.

Uhtred clearly reads the look on your face, and his eyebrow furrow “What's that look for?” he asks, still chuckling.

“..Nothing..” You state plainly shaking your head trying to dismiss the tension.

He watches you closely as you retract your hand from him and rest your chin carefully on it while taking a moment before gazing back up at him. He stares at you for a moment in silence, and you allow it as you take in the image of the man leaning back next to you on the grass, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Perhaps it could be like this…you wonder to yourself. Maybe we could be friends by day, traveling on the road together, spending the nights tucked between each other's arms, and it could be just like this. Simple, wonderful, and beautiful, just like this.

You both hear Uhtred's name being called in the distance, and just as quickly as the idea came to your mind, it comes to a screeching halt.

Uhtred turns and looks in the direction his name is shouted from, you see Sihtric and Finan waving for him by the entrance of the alehouse and sigh quietly to yourself knowing he's to be whisked away, along with your momentary bliss.

"Keep a close eye on Eadith and please tell me if you discover anything." He says gently while standing.

You nod looking up at him, squinting as the sun blinds you from the ground. He extends his arm out to help you up and you gladly take it. He stands before you; smiling and eyes gleaming. You imagine if you were a couple this would be the part where you'd be able to feel his plump soft lips pressed ever so tenderly against yours before parting. Instead, he pats your shoulder softly as he turns away. You stand watching him and fold your arms across your chest as he makes his way back to the men beckoning for him. He stops and turns back only a few paces away from you.

"..I'll bring more blankets for us both tonight." He says all too calmly.

"What!?" You stare blinded by the sun at him trying to read his face.

"You'll be in the stables again, yes?" He asks nonchalantly, backing up the hill towards the men.

You uncross your arms and peer harder towards him.

"I….yes uh, I suppose so…" You tell him.

"Then, I’ll be sure to bring more blankets tonight." He says with a smirk as he turns and continues on towards Finan and Sihtric.

He leaves you standing there baffled in silence as you watch his tall figure stride away. How can he make it so effortlessly simple; the way he turns your core to liquid and sets your heart on fire. You watch as he takes huge steps up the small hillside to the dirt path of the alehouse and admire how his hair softly grazes against his huge broad shoulders as he does.

How you have dreamt of running your fingers through those thick long locks entranced in the heat of passion. You imagine he'd be hot to the touch and warm your fingertips instantly on contact with your soft nimble hands. When you'd kiss his neck he'd taste salty but savory, and he'd leave your mouth wanting as he pull away from you. You hastily shake your head dismissing the thoughts and realize you should probably be gathering some fresh herbs and supplies for treating the sick the next day. You make your way much less easily as Uhtred did up the small hillside, and make your way to check on Eadith again before heading out to the pastures to do so.

You rap lightly against the hardwood door waiting patiently, to see if Eadith has awoken yet from her slumber. You can't help but envy her just a hint, at the fact that she has this time to rest all day barely interrupted. Life on the road makes it very hard for an individual to catch up on sleep. You hear her stir from behind the door and gently turn the knob in your hand peering behind the large dark wall before entering.

"You're awake!" You say delighted as she sits up in bed.

Her hair is a mess and her face paler than you recall but you try your hardest to ignore these perhaps not signs of illness. She smiles brightly at you and waves for you to close the door.

"How's the cough?" You ask abruptly, trying not to sound too eager.

"I'm fine! Really! It's just from all the dust in the old abandoned house."

You flash her a suspicious look and she giggles to herself as you do.

"I feel fine, really. I wouldn't let you come in, if I didn't!" She tells you confidently.

You grab the untouched meal from the table you left earlier and carefully walk it over to her and set it down gently next to her bedside table.

Closer to her now you can see, perhaps her pale complexion, was just the lighting or even just her complexion coming out a deep slumber. You smile faintly to yourself and pour her a fresh glass of water. You reach out hesitantly and she shakes her head back and forth disagreeing with you coming so close to her. But, you keep your hand extended out towards her.

"If you are to meet our maker; you're not going alone!" You say firmly.

She tilts her head up to you and squints slightly, before hesitantly reaching out and taking the cup from your hand. She smiles back at you and takes long satisfied gulps from her cup.

"Honestly, how are you feeling?" You ask her again more sternly this time.

She finishes her mouthful with a satisfied 'ahh' before turning to face you, serious and stoic as can be.

"I feel as though our maker; has decided to wait a bit longer to meet me." She says with a smile growing on her face.

She takes another long sip from her cup as you watch as her hands stay steady, and calm as ever before.

"Almost this time tomorrow you better have those horses ready for us to get out of this God forsaken town!" She tells you with a laugh.

You giggle with her and pat her feet gently under the blankets.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, you still have another long day and night before you're clear to leave this room." You tell her kindly.

You lift yourself from beside her, and sigh as you begin to take your leave.

"Send for me if you need anything," you tell her warmly before shutting the door behind you.

This time when the door is shut; you sigh a slight breath of relief. You know the first 24 hours are the most crucial and if she indeed was infected. She should be showing obvious signs of it by now. Not that she's completely out of the clear, but you walk back down the hallway towards the inn. Relieved that so far, she indeed, is doing just fine.

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