No Use Of Y/n - Tumblr Posts

hey what if i

that'd be so crazy right

ch 1 。・°°・

gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n, clones know mando'a, crosshair doesn't turn, no beta we die like tech.

The sun had begun to slump lazily in the sky. Outcroppings of clouds blotted around it, allowing the rays to gleam down rather than the barrage of heat from early this morning. Hues of bronze and amber were slathered across the atmosphere, partly due to the dust in the air. Here past the city limits, one became acutely aware of the planet’s true climate. Roves of sand and limestone were all the eye would be met with for miles. Large, twisted succulents shot randomly out of the ground, their insides bitter and viscous with water from a long many cycles ago. The stubborn fauna was a mirror image of the people that inhabited this planet. Fierce and unyielding, hoarding what little resources are to be found, if only to assure survival for longer than tonight.

While the sun had dipped in severity, your emotions seemed to not get the memo. In fact, your heart was rattling your ribcage and wracking your nervous system. In a matter of hours you had your first customers in days, albeit shallow pocketed, and instead of doing the proper salesperson-like thing and talking Echo down to another product, you ran his pockets and asked him out.

And he said yes.

Well, not in those words. But it wasn’t a No. Or a Sure, why not. And that’s more than enough for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Echo was relying on the speeder handlebars in front of him to maintain his grip on reality.

Echo tried not to get his hopes up whenever he noticed wandering eyes on him in the past. He’d said it jokingly, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was just happy you weren’t looking at him in disgust.

Or worse, someone to pity.

You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his metal arm and scomp. You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his gait on the way to the counter. Hell, you didn’t even make mention of the piece wrapping around his skull. He didn’t even have to ask.

And now you were wrapped around his back, pushing your weight into him as he ripped across the wastes. Your arms were slinked around his core, hands folded and your pinky ghosting across the tip of his navel. While Echo’s own hands on the speeder was his current tether to reality, the warmth of your hands was equally coaxing him back out. Coaxing him backwards to rest his shoulder blades on your chest, coaxing him to let go of the handlebars, coaxing him to close his eyes, savor the moment. But he doesn’t. The same steadfast, battle-tested resolve that made him an ARC Trooper, all of that resolve, is being called upon at this moment.

Echo flicked the gear shift forward and pressed his foot down evenly, eyes honing in on the gray dot of the Marauder coming into view on the horizon. You gripped tighter with the increase in speed, and Echo’s cheeks got warm. Omega tailed closely behind.

Earlier, before the three of you had broken the city limits, Echo gave you the rundown of his ragtag family.

Tech. Wrecker. Hunter. Crosshair.

You mentally listed the members of the Batch, trying your absolute best to commit them to memory. It’ll be a lot easier once you actually see them, trust me. Echo’s words rang through your head, a metaphysical balm to your mild-yet-steadfastly brewing social anxieties.

A loud, metallic groan roused you from your thoughts. The ramp of the Marauder began to descend, and an overwhelmingly large figure appeared at the lip of the ramp.

“9-1 odds, that's Wrecker?” You call out loudly, desperate to be heard over the speeder engine. Before Echo could respond, a surly, thickly accented voice cut through the air.

“What stray did you bring in from the rain this time, eh Echo?!”

“You would be correct.” Echo glances over his shoulder at you, before turning back and calling out to his brother. “Adoption is Hunter’s speciality. Is your chip acting up again?” Wrecker answered with a barking laugh, walking off the ramp that is now level with the planet’s surface.

Echo brought the bike to a rolling stop, the engine softly tut-tut-ing before being kicked off. Omega came up beside the two of you, parking respectively. Echo stepped off the bike and stuck his hand out for you, while Wrecker came over and swooped Omega off the bike and onto his shoulders. You coyly took his hand. “Still keeping up this smooth charade?” You chide, throwing your leg over the bike and pulling yourself up with his assistance.

“Charade? Now that’s just rude.” Echo stuck his nose up, fake indignantly.

You grin, leaning into the bit. “Oh my, how may I make up for this transgression Milord?”

Wrecker and Omega watched on with shit eating grins. Neither of them were going to be the ones to break the moment, nor were they going to be the ones to tell either of you about the matching blush the two of you were wearing.

“I’m sure I’ll find a remedy in time, fret not serf.” Echo smiled as he stuck his elbow out for you to take.

“Serf? I’ll have you know my father was a knight!” It was your turn to act fake indignant, huffing and whipping your head away from Echo. Both of you erupted into laughter at the shared moment, closing in on the ramp.

Unbeknownst to you, Hunter was in the hallway, up the ramp and around the corner, a soft smile stitching its way onto his face. He, like Wrecker and Omega, was deeply enthused about his brother’s stroke of luck with you. Hunter had heard the two of you before you’d arrived, his acute senses hearing the rumblings a few klicks away.

Hunter decided to make his presence known, slipping out of the shadows and into the main doorway.

“What’s this about me adopting someone else?” Hunter says, eyes casually shifting about the group, seeming to do a mental headcount.

“Well I’m terrible with a blaster, but I can sell exhaust pipes something fierce!” You reply sarcastically, and you offer your name and a handshake. Instead, the clone claps your forearm and shakes it once. You follow the motion, entirely through muscle memory, clapping his forearm with similar force. A soft smile sits on your face at the gesture, it was something you hadn’t done in a few cycles at this point.

“Hunter, though I’m sure Echo’s filled you in already.” He offers a pleasant smile, now more curious about the stranger aboard his ship.

“He’s only given me names.” You shrug. “But, I’ve run into two of you now, and it’s a 50/50 on whether or not your moniker’s obscenely obvious. So I think I’ll be okay.” You finish the statement with a soft, mildly forced laugh, hoping to make it as obvious as possible that you’re joking.

I just made sure Echo can kinda stand my presence, I can’t have his brother be the hard sell now.

Hunter nods and closes his eyes with a soft chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about, kid. None of us bite.”

“Except maybe Crosshair.” Three separate voices say at the same time.

Laughter erupts from the hallway and cockpit. From the gunner’s nest, a hissing grimace. Hunter beckoned Wrecker and Omega into the cockpit, nodding to you and Echo as he went. The aforementioned biter slunk his way down the ladder and towards the cockpit, casting nary a glance to the new person aboard the Marauder. A toothpick flew from in front of him, twirling in the air nonchalantly before sticking upright in a crack between the durasteel paneling of the floor. Your eyes honed in on it.

“He won’t actually bite you, but good luck getting more than three words that aren’t snarky outta the vod.” Echo spoke quietly and clasped a hand between your shoulder blades, noting your gaze. “I wouldn’t let him.” He said even quieter, barely above a hum.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Once again, Echo’s simple words are a balm for mental wounds he did not cause, and completely unintentionally. You relax your shoulders, and pull them in a circle.

“So, Tech’s left, right?”

Echo nodded, and gestured with his scomp for you to lead the way. You obliged, and went up the stairs. Through a small hallway filled with a myriad of colors and buttons, you led the two of you into the cockpit.

A somewhat larger space opened up, with similar durasteel walls peppered with buttons and lights. However bulletproof panes of glass took up a majority of the wall space, looking out at the expanse of the wastes. It made the desert look even more swallowing, seeing it from a slight elevation. Nothing else for miles and miles had the view you did right now. Something about Desert Fever slung its way through your brain, some whispers you had barely overheard from stallworkers about afflicted moisture farmers on the outskirts.

“Also colloquially known as desert mania, desert fever is usually characterized with bouts of irrational behaviors and depressive episodes, as a result of the absolute nothing around you. Some hypothesize it to be an amalgamation of chronic understimulation.” A tall clone materialized next to you from the pilot’s chair.

“That was supposed to be internal, my bad. I take it you’re Tech?” You say sheepishly, rubbing a hand on your neck as you extend the other, introducing yourself.

“You are correct. Pleasure.” He replies, holding his hand up softly as to say None for me, thanks in response to your hand out. You quickly pulled it back to your side, eyes flicking to Echo behind you for mild reassurance.

Getting the message, he cleared his throat. “Where’s everyone finding themselves tonight?”

“Hunter’s busying himself inventorying the supplies brought in, Crosshair is brooding on top of the ship, and Wrecker and Omega are outside testing her ability to detonate multiple delayed explosions.” Tech replied curtly, understanding Echo’s meaning instantly. “I will retire to the bunks if you need me. I have my holopad and charger. Kandosii, vod’ika.”

Echo’s fingers twitched at his thigh again as color shot up from his collar. “Thank you Tech!” He said, very abruptly. He politely spun you around and began to push you towards the copilot’s seat.

A part of Echo prayed you weren’t paying attention to Tech all that much.

A bigger part of him knew you understood every word thrown about.

just a small - and very small - story that was resting in the drafts.

warnings: very brief mentions of smut, hidden relationship between the two of you.

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

On that quiet sunny afternoon, everyone was looking for something to do in Sunny. Some took the opportunity to fish, others to catch up on their reading.

You leaned on the far side of the ship, tracing something that only you could see. On the completely opposite side, Zoro remained with his eyes closed, taking a nap and who knows what he was dreaming about at that moment.

That's what you were at that moment, two crew members enjoying their free time.

At other times, however, you were the first person to offer to help Zoro with the bandages, the result of some inconsequential fight he got into, usually when Chopper walked away, the swordsman allowed himself to become a grumbling mess in your touches and care - always demanding that kiss that would cure the pain.

Zoro, on the other hand, was the watchful eye that followed every blow you delivered to your enemies, every time your dagger stuck against one of them, he vibrated, but that didn't stop the razor's edge from getting closer to you - again, getting closer, none of the blades and swords were faster than the green-haired swordsman who coincidentally was standing by to take the damage in your place.

Zoro could sleep anywhere, nothing would take him away from a nap. However, the best naps happened in free time and alone, where he could hold you in his arms and even against your will, you would stay there - and it was usually in favor of your will.

Unlike him, you were a light sleeper and a sleeper that loved to escape you during the nights, especially those that were filled with nightmares. On nights like this, when you chose to leave the girls' room and get some air outside, it didn't take long for a cup of tea and a shy kiss to reach you, usually accompanied by "Do you want to talk?"

The golden pendant that fell between your shirt was identical to the earrings he was carrying and even though Nami had noticed this, you were able to dismiss the conversation and move the subject away from her - even though it was a gift from Zoro himself. Nobody needed to know about you two.

Zoro was good at hiding his feelings, it was easy, except when the cook praised you and he could see your discomfort. Usopp was the first to realize that complaints only happened when you were involved - and Zoro just grumbled, he didn't need to justify himself. No one needed to know about you two, yet.

No one needed to know that on nights when just the two of you were on the ship, he was the one pressing you against the nearest surface, sinking into your neck, capturing your essence, moans and pleasure. No one needed to know that the scratch marks that appeared on his body came from your nails, that your hoarse voice was sometimes the fault of begging for more: more speed, more strength, more of Zoro.

When you cried, he was the first to dry your tears. When he fought, you were ready to take the front line. When you drank, your glasses were the first to toast for whatever reason.

You belong to him, he belong to you. Not that everyone needed to know this.

And as long as the sun didn't hide behind the waves of the sea, as long as you weren't alone, you would just stay there in the light of day.

You, a mere sweet dream intertwined in Zoro's dreams and he, green lines and small declarations of love in your little notebook.

’*•.¸♡ 𝗖𝗘𝗢! 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 ♡¸.•*‘

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I wrote this over the course of a couple days. Very sleep deprived on some of the said days. sorry if it doesn't make sense!

Let me know if there should be anything else in the content warning. Or correct me if i'm wrong :))

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Gender-Neutral reader! Word count: 3.1k CW: Mention of unsupportive parents, insinuation of a bad ex, embarrassment, anxiety, cussing (Once)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It's fine. You're fine. Stop worrying. You've got this.

You're attractive, smart, and confident, and.. And.. fuck.

I'm gonna butcher this. It was only basically a life changing moment. If I got this job I could finally prove to my family and my ex my roommate that the 4 years at college was worth it. The endless nights… studying. God, I don't miss it. According to my parents, a computer science degree was a

“waste of your time! You could be studying liberal arts! Getting an english degree!! Become a teacher! Not some useless.. Computer.. Person. What are you going to do? Spend your life in a dark basement in “I.T.” ridiculous. Get a grip”

They had never supported anything I did that wasn't advised by them. They don't even know the title! “Some.. computer person” Please. Why can't they understand that computers are the future? This IS the future. Coders are more important now than they ever have been before.

My roommate, Karl, has been nothing but supportive. As expected from someone whose whole life is dependent on computers. But, I still feel like I have some point to prove to him. Like if I don't, all of the sleepless nights he spent helping me when I had to cram, comforting me when I got a grade that was less than perfect, forcing me to eat, shower, drink water, and take a break and have a day to myself, was all for nothing. I definitely wouldn’t be here without him.

“Um.. excuse me?” Looking up from my lap where my fidgeting hands had finally come to a stop. The receptionist, or is he a personal assistant? It’s hard to tell. He could be anyone. Whoever he is, he is deathly attractive, but also staring at me impatiently. I couldn’t help but stare back. Taking note of every detail I could find. His downturned brown eyes burning holes into my own as he waited for a response, his seemingly perfect eyebrows knitted together, the freckle on his left cheek which was very faint but noticeable. Which i'm sure if exposed to the sun would darken. Which leads me to his skin. Pale, and white. Almost paper white. I wonder how much he is truly exposed to the sun or if he is just always stuck in this god forsaken office. His cheeks were slightly rosy though. Cute. His lips, although thin, were full, almost. As if he was pouting. They were a pale pink, matching the rosiness of his cheeks. His hair. Gosh his hair. It was so fluffy and dark, it was hard to tell whether it was black or a deep brown in the lighting provided. I just wanted to run my hands through it and feel how soft it truly was. One thing stood out though. One annoying detail that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

A piece of hair sticking up in the middle of his head. It looked so out of place compared to the cute, fluffy curls of everything else. It was embarrassing how hard it was to hold myself back from walking over to him and fixing it myself.

He coughed.

How long was I staring at him?

Standing up, I brushed myself off. Getting rid of any stray hairs or balls of material that had stuck to me. I took a hesitant step forward towards the man in front of me. He swung his arm out and motioned me to go into the main office. The whole reason I was here.

“He is ready for you. Don’t keep him waiting any longer. He will take your tardiness out on us” He mumbled the last part of his sentence not meaning for me to hear. He turned swiftly on his feet before speed walking back to his desk situated next to the elevator. He was very lanky. The black t-shirt he wore was… Baggy? His pants were black jeans, pairing them with his all black converse. Was I overdressed? Or was he too casual. Panic immediately started to rise within me. But the moment he sat down back at his desk, he looked at me once more sending a glare my way, annoyed I still haven’t made the effort to make my way towards the office.

I nodded at him. Turning slowly to take in the giant double doors in front of me. A bit extreme for a small hallway I think personally. I walked towards them and held the door handle. Do I knock? That'd be polite right? No but he's expecting you, he's aware of your presence so there is no need to. But what if he had gotten a phone call between the time of alerting the man behind the desk and now. But what if he gets annoyed at you for knocking. What if he finds the sound of knock-

Before I could even finish or process my thoughts, the door in front of me flew open. I stumbled slightly as the handle was torn from my grasp. I looked up and. Oh. Holy shit. Attractive was an understatement. The lanky dude behind the desk was attractive. The man in front of me was. God like? No, that would probably feed into his ego. Hot. Hot doesn’t describe it well enough. He was… Alluring. Alluring was the best way I could put it. He was lanky like the assistant (? I still don't know) but he was tall, and slightly bulkier. Broad shoulders, covered by a black dress shirt, that fit him oh too well, and a dark forest green vest. A silver chain was hung around his neck tucked underneath the shirt. It was barely visible, the intent to hide it was obvious. His jaw was- don't get me started. His eyes were an emerald green, matching his vest perfectly. But that was as far as I got before he started talking.

“You’re here for the interview aren't you?” Voice was like butter, it was smooth but had a slight rasp to it as if he hadn’t used it all day. I stared at him for a minute too long before nodding my head and muttering out a quick yes, my eyes meeting my shoes.

He hummed before taking a step back, opening the door wider. Silently asking for me to walk in and take a seat. I took a few steps forward, far enough for him to shut the door and walk around me to sit behind the desk.

His office was beautiful to put it simply. Simple but welcoming. The left wall had bookshelves lining the whole of the wall. The bookshelves wrapped around the wall behind me, only stopping once it reached the door. The back wall, if you could even call it a wall, was a giant window. Looking out upon the city of Orlando. The right wall was lined with computers, which I'll admit was a bit confusing. You'd think in an establishment like this, they would be able to afford a server room instead of keeping it in the bosses office. This room was the biggest liability. As if reading my mind, the gorgeous man sat at the desk in front of me, answered my question.

“We do have a server room. Just to let you know” I turned to look at him, mouth open like a fish. I’d close it if I could. But my body has betrayed me and I can't seem to control any part of me at this moment. He chuckled. God, that was hot.

“I could see the confusion on your face when you were looking at them… Don’t worry they don't hold any sensitive information” He was no longer looking at me, instead highlighting some papers in front of him. I nodded and cleared my throat before walking towards the desk, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down. He looked up at me through lidded eyes and chuckled again at my hesitancy to sit down. When will he stop doing that. Without a second thought, my mouth had opened and words came tumbling out.

“Genuine question. If you do have a server room, and the computers don't hold any sensitive information,” I pointed at the wall to my right. Which, now thinking about was stupid, what other computers could I possibly be talking about. “Why are they in your office. And how are they surviving the changes of temperature within your office? I wouldn’t say it's particularly cold here. Not how server rooms are meant to be anyways.” He paused, capping his highlighter and putting it down before looking back at me. His hands were clasped together in front of him as he leaned forward.

“I won’t lie. You’re the only person that has ever pointed that out. Besides George of course.” George? Who is George? He looked at the computers, before looking back at me with a smug smile sitting upon his face. “Decoys. To put it simply. I would say they’re for personal use but you seem too smart to fall for that.” His arms left the table before leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms. And lord do I wish he didn't. I couldn't help but stare at his arms as they pulled against his shirt. “They are real computers, yes, just before you question me about the blinking lights..” He paused and took a deep breath in. Contemplating what his next words would be. “... Why do YOU think I may have decoys displayed in my office?” he questioned me, the smug smile returning to rest on his face. I raised my eyebrows in shock, I knew this was an interview but I wasn’t expecting a question like this.

I shifted in my seat, before clearing my throat again. I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting with my fingers.

“Um. I mean one would assume the reason why anyone would have a decoy of.. Well anything. Would be to trick someone else into thinking that it was something that had importance.. And/or meaning. “ I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. I looked up. He no longer held a smug smile, nor did he have his arms crossed. But, his hands rested on his thighs and he held my gaze, silently urging me to continue talking. He was truly intrigued by what I had to say over such a simple question. I looked away back towards the computers. It was hard to keep eye contact when his eyes were so mesmerising. “In this case, the information stored within the computers in the server room are sensitive and are at risk of being exposed to people who don't need said information. So, decoys are displayed in your office, to trick anyone who comes through, to believe you were idiotic enough to keep your servers out in the open for anyone to access.” I was going to continue but thought against my better judgement. I looked back at the man at the desk. Instead of being serious, as he was mere moments beforehand. He looked… amused? My eyes widened as I realised what I had just said.

“Not- no uh- not that i was calling you idiotic sir! I was just uh… it was more an.. Um. example? Of what others may think? Not that i think people think you're idiotic!-” he had cut me off when he started to laugh.

Oh my god. I just called my possible future boss idiotic and he started laughing at me. I cowered in my seat, sinking lower. This was the most embarrassing thing to happen all day.

Tears were pricking the corner of his eyes as he continued to laugh. Once he opened them and saw how embarrassed I had become. He started to calm down. I straightened the way I was sitting, fidgeting with my hands once again.

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter himself. Hands crossed, he leaned against the desk once again.

“I would like to apologise for laughing at you. Truly. It had just… caught me off guard. I haven't laughed like that in weeks.” A soft smile sat upon his face staring at me with glossy eyes, still teary from his burst of laughter. “Other than your comment about idiocy. You were spot on. You’re right when you say that they’re there to trick people into thinking that they hold sensitive information. Although it seems obvious to people like you and George, many fall for it. I can't explain how many people we have caught tampering with the computers here at 2 am.” He ran a hand through his sandy hair as he huffed. Obviously annoyed with the thought of how many people had tried to take him down. He brought up George again. Who is George?

“I do have another quick question..” He looked away from the computers and back at me. Nodding his head slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to what I had to say.

“You… you keep bringing up someone named George. Who is George? if you don't mind my asking” I spoke quietly and nervously. If he did end up hiring me. I don’t know how I will be able to cope. Maybe I should have missed the interview today. I would be fine with disappointing everyone around me if it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with seeing his face every day.

He smiled upon hearing my question. Almost eager to talk about his best friend.

“George was the man that greeted you outside my door. He’s my best friend and employee.” He continued to smile as the confusion was slowly cleared off of my face. I nodded slowly before looking around the room again awkwardly. A couch sat opposite the bookshelf, a small round table sat next to the couch, a book left open, a corner of the page doggy eared, making me cringe inwardly. Turning back around to the man in front of me, did I only notice how cluttered his desk was. There was a lamp sitting on the corner of the left side of the desk. A monitor sitting opposite on the right side. Papers were scattered across his desk, a multitude of folders towering slightly on a tray sat next to his lamp. Pens and highlighters littered his desk, some without caps. The ones that were capped were very obviously on the wrong pen. The man followed my eyes, soon noticing himself how messy his own desk was.

“Oh my... i'm so sorry i didn’t realise how messy things had become” He quickly picked up all of the papers, stacking them neatly and pushing them to the side. Before scooping up all of the pens and highlighters, capping them correctly and disposing them into a cup that had sat next to his monitor. He looked at me sheepishly, sticking his arm out in front of me. I grabbed his hand and shaked, assuming that is what he was asking of me.

“Clay, my name is Clay. Apologies yet again. This Interview has been somewhat of a disaster.” I shook my head and smiled, retreating my arm and telling him my own name. Clay… that's a really nice name. Genuinely,

He smiled, an amused expression on his face yet again.

“I am aware of your name. It was on your resume and application” A goofy grin was on display. Blush seeped up the back of my neck, settling in the tips of my ears. I was thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh right.. Sorry. I forgot you had access to that.” I rubbed the back of my neck taking a few deep steady breaths to calm myself down.

“Don’t worry about your desk, by the way. Trust me when I say I have seen worse.” He laughed slightly and shook his head, amused. He stopped abruptly, face turning into a hard expression. Suddenly becoming serious.

“Look uh. We have run out of time for the interview today.” His voice no longer sounded smooth, but was gravelly almost. “You took your time entering my office and kept me waiting.” Oh god. Here it is. He’s going to reject my application. Panic immediately settled in my stomach. It began churning, I felt like I was going to throw up at any second. Why was he suddenly stoic. Did I do something? Was I mucking around? I didn't mean to if I was. I thought I was pretty calm. He took a deep breath in. The anxiety was like a volcano. It felt like it was about to erupt. The shaking being the voices of worry filling my mind, the lava rising being the anxiety attack that was slowly settling in.

“But. Considering you did take notice of the computers, and questioned me about them instead of just ignoring them. And you did answer the one question I did ask you.”

Here it comes. Any moment now. He’ll break the news and tell me to get out.

“I will keep in touch with you” what? “I will let you know if you have gotten the job in around a week's time.” Oh. My. God. The volcano inside slowly started dying. The shaking coming to a stop, the lava settling back down into the pool of my stomach.

He pushed the chair back from his desk and stood up walking towards the door. I followed suit, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer than I already had. When I had reached him he stuck his hand out waiting for me to shake it once again. I gripped his hand firmly and shook. Feeling more confident now than I had all day.

“Thank you for taking time out of your day to interview me sir. Even if it wasn’t the interview either of us were hoping for.” He nodded, smiling slightly at my words, the smile didn't last long before it returned to the position it was previously in. He reached to open the door, stepping back in the process to make room for me to leave.

“Of course. Until next time. We’ll keep in touch.” He responded bluntly, looking at me once more before shutting the door the moment I left the office. What the fuck kind of interview was that? I looked around the room, my eyes settling on the man I now know as George. He rolled his eyes before nodding his head at me. I nodded back, swallowing the bump that had found its way into my throat. Making my way to the elevator I thought about everything that had happened today. Only one detail sticking out more than the others.

How attractive Clay was.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I'm not the best at writing and contemplated uploading this, so I hope you enjoyed whatever it was lol. - Birdy

Code Red

Soooo I finally did the thing and wrote my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy, please let me know your thoughts!

TW: menstrual cycles, fertility issues, swearing, baby fever, blood, no smut

Alastor x reader

Shitshitshitshitshit-

You glare down at the bathroom sink, chewing on your bottom lip.

What are you going to do? What the FUCK are you going to do?! What is Alastor going to do when he finds out?

You run a hand through your hair and huff. It was late October, the end of Alastor’s rut. The last month was a blur- a whirlwind of passion, lust, and mind blowing orgasms. It was your first rut with Alastor and you were NOT prepared for the behavioral changes that overtook the usually stoic demon. For the past month Alastor smothered you in affection, barely allowing you to leave the bed. He made your meals(going as far as hand-feeding you), massaged your entire body, and whispered the sweetest words of love and devotion into your ears. He did it all for one singular, IMPOSSIBLE goal.

“You’re going to make me the strongest fawns.”

It was impossible for sinners to procreate. But Alastor’s rut-addled brain refused to acknowledge that fact. Getting you pregnant was all the man talked about since his rut began. You had just gone along with it, it was honestly sweet the way he described what raising a child with you would be like. You just had to play it cool and wait for the demon’s mind to return to normal.

But now your entire plan just got derailed, your own body turned against you at the worst time. You had gotten your period.

ALL it had to do was wait just a few more days! Alastor’s rut would be over and you could go back to life as normal. But no-this was hell after all and everything was designed with ultimate suffering in mind.

So now you had to come up with a plan. If rut-Alastor found out you were menstruating he would certainly lose his shit. There was no chance that you could avoid sex, that would immediately make him suspicious. Using a tampon was out of the question, he’d find that way too easily. Your options were limited, the only idiotic thing you could come up with was stuffing an old washcloth between your legs like some poor, medieval woman and chucking it under the bed before he could notice. As for the blood, maybe you play that off due to his relentless sex drive-

*knock knock knock*

“Darling, are you quite alright? I’m beginning to fear you may have been sucked down the pipe HAHA!”

Shit- you’re out of time. Medieval blood rag it is then. “S-sorry! I’ll be right out!”

The moment you emerged from the bathroom you were pinned to the wall; Alastor used his arms to cage you in against his chest. He bent down to bury his nose into your hair, breathing your scent in. A deep rumble vibrated through his chest sending a shiver up your spine as he began rubbing his cheeks from your chin to your temple; his scent causing your knees to shake, you had almost completely forgotten the rag you were hiding under your thin nightgown.

You stiffened when he moved to walk you back to the bed, squeezing your thighs together to keep the cloth in place. Thankfully he sat you down on the edge and moved behind you so he could rub the knots out of your back and shoulders.

“My poor doe, what has you so tense?”

“Tense? I’m not tense, why would I be tense?” Smooth. Hiding things was really never your forte.

“You really ought to work on your poker face Cher, but you’ll never be able to hide things from me regardless. Now what is it?”He stops his ministrations and grips your shoulders, angling you to the side as he looks at you over your shoulder.

You sit there gaping at him like a fish, warring with yourself over if you should just come clean. You knew what he wanted wasn’t even possible, but you still felt like you were letting him down. You didn’t want to face his disappointment at the news.

“Darling, please just tell me what’s the matter. If it’s anything within my power to fix you know I’ll do just that. Come now, this stress isn’t good for the fawn.”, Alastor replied as he rested a palm on your lower stomach making you jump up as if it burned.

“I got my period!” You unceremoniously blurted, face going tomato red.

One moment turned to two then to a dozen as you and Alastor stared at each other. You finally had to expel the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your whole body deflating.

“You…are menstruating?”, he finally broke the deafening silence.

“Yea, it just started today.” You watched as he slumped over, elbows on his knees, eyes staring down at the floor. “How…? What did I do wrong?”

Your heart shattered and you surged forward, kneeling in front of him and lifting his head in your hands so he had to look at you. “You did NOTHING wrong my love! I know you are in rut, and your brain is telling you that a child is what you want but it’s just not possible dearest. I was hoping that my period would wait until after your rut, I’m so sorry.” You pulled him fully into your embrace, one arm locked firmly around his back and the other scratching lightly at his undercut your forehead resting against his. “Even though a child is not in our future- I love you more than there are stars in a night sky.”

Alastor hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist, “And I love you more than the brightest smile could convey. Apologies my dear, it seems my first rut spent with my mate altered my brain chemistry a tad more than I expected. I’m sorry if I startled you.”

You giggled and gently peppered his face in kisses, “No worries hun, it was honestly kind of sweet.” He let out a scoff “Darling, need I remind you that I am The Radio Demon? Why I hardly believe sweet is in my vocabulary!”

“Ah, there you are Al! Feeling better?” You give him a smirk before pressing your lips to his. “Much, thank you! Now, as much as I’d love to get back to my work…” he maneuvered you to sit across his lap “I suppose I can wait just a bit longer in order to show you my sincerest gratitude for your company this month.”

As if on cue- this is hell after all- the damn rag fell to the floor due to your sudden change of position. You’d forgotten you even had it! Alastor glanced down at the red-smeared cloth and then back at your mortified face with a raised brow.

“You know what? I’m not even going to dignify this with an explanation. Let me go get a proper feminine hygiene product and I’ll be right back!” Alastor chuckled but let you up. Before you made it to the door he spoke “Oh Darling? Do take your sanitary apron with you!”

You barely had time to turn around before the bloody cloth hit your chest. You childishly flipped him off, earning another chuckle, before closing the door. Next year you are so asking Charlie for birth control pills to skip your period.

petal

pairing ~ geralt of rivia x f!reader

word count ~ 5.2k

summary ~ geralt was never a man of many words, so he does what he can to show how he feels for you.

warnings ~ fluff!! mild language, gross man tries some verbal harrasment, intimidation & unwanted touching, (geralt saves the day!), hurt/comfort, mention of reader wearing a dress, descriptions of blood and injury, mutual pining but they're idiots, minor angst, not good self talk, mention of feelings of worthlessness

a/n ~ uh oh friends i accidentally opened a doc and this happened, i am an absolute sap for pet names and goodness gracious writing a fic about a geralt giving a pet name escalated into this, so i hope you all enjoy!! mwauh!!

Petal.

A delicate, weak thing that floats away on the breeze at the mere mention of any danger.

Even when you had tried to prove yourself time and time again that you were certainly not either of those things

It was still what he called you.

"I don't need anything, especially not from you" He had huffed at you during your initial meeting

You tried not to be taken aback but his gruffness, you had been told of Witcher's harsh nature's your entire life, hearing the stories and songs of their exploits throughout your village since you were small, but still, you had never expected to meet one, nor had you expected for any of them to be quite so large.

When he finally stood to his full height, you had to actively make sure to keep your mouth closed in fear it might fall to the floor if you let it act on it's own accord.

Though he was much taller than you, you refused to be intimidated by him, still standing your ground before him, thankful your dress covered your legs, less anyone see your trembling knees.

The brunette beside you still persisted. "She's perfect, I promise, and we'll never have to see her again afterwards, hm?" He turned to you with a smile, and you shook your head earnestly, though you couldn't deny how some part of you longed to stay with the pair longer than for just this.

The white haired man took you in once again, his heated gaze traveling from your slightly worn shoes to your hair as if he were appraising you like a cow from market. He finally sighed, "Fine." He grumbled, almost slamming his mug down on the wooden bar.

"I think he likes you" The other man commented, gently placing his hand on your lower back as the both of you followed the Witcher out the front door.

It was surely an unconventional way of meeting, but there seemed to be nothing truly conventional about either of the pair, Jaskier and Geralt as you later learned. You would have expected such a harsh man would have taken up more, like-minded companions, but the more you witnessed Jaskier's sunny disposition combating with Geralt's brash nature, the more you felt that this pairing was one that was always meant to be.

Though your addition to the group was quite unexpected.

You were only supposed to be nothing more than midnight Striga bait, something to lure it out into the forest, only to be hopefully saved at the last second by Geralt's skill. That was all you were supposed to be, but as your heart raced that night, feelings of both fear and excitement pulsing through your veins, as shadows cast by the full moon danced around you, you knew you couldn't go back to your village. How could you? All your life, you had only ever known muddy streets and market barkers and clouds that never seemed to allow the sunshine to peak through. How could you ever return to any of that, when just these few moments in darkness gave you more adventure than in any of your years of living in the light of your town.

Jaskier seemed to notice that particular glint in your eye once the deed had been done.

"Wasn't she helpful?" He smirked, "Maybe we should keep bringing her along?"

Geralt only grunted in response as he looked upon the now deceased creature.

You tried your best to hide the smile that threatened to split your cheeks at the thought, you could only imagine what a week with them would be like if this was just one night.

"I mean..." Jaskier sauntered slowly over to him, "She did catch us this Stri-"

Geralt turned to him in an instant, a wordless, piercing snarl plastered on his face, and you felt a slight twinge of disappointment at his obvious disdain at the thought of you joining them.

"It would take us another three days to bring her back, it would just make things quicker if she stayed with us, and, no offense" He quickly turned to you, "I'd rather continue on, than have to travel three extra days back to that shit hole."

Geralt hummed, turning to you now, and in the pale light of the moon that shown through the trees, you swore you saw him appraising you once again just as he had when he first met you.

"We're taking you back as soon as this is over." He spat as he walked towards you, shouldering past you as he stomped through the woods.

Jaskier flashed a quick smile at you, "He'll come 'round, he always does."

One week turned to two, two turned to three, weeks turned to months, and you still continued to be brought along on adventures with the two, experiences that you never could have imagined partaking in, in even your wildest dreams, were now things that you experienced on a fairly regular basis.

You saw kingdoms, glittering castles, and kindhearted princesses. You witnessed the fiercest monsters and the most entrancing magic, the adventures you had always been warned to stay away from, you found yourself right in the middle of all of them.

Though as thrilling as your new life was, sometimes you would miss your somewhat-soft bed and the comfort of knowing you would always have some place warm to stay, but you made the most of what you had, savoring the creature comforts you came across as much as you could when you did gather enough coin for a night or two stay at a local inn.

It was on one of these particular nights when he had first called you that.

Petal.

Geralt had sent you in with a small satchel to pay for the rooms while he hitched Roach on one of the posts outside of the inn.

It was an infrequent occasion when you had enough to rent three separate rooms for yourselves, but monsters were not an infrequent occurrence around these parts, and the influx in beasts also meant a slight raise in pay.

"Three rooms, please" You spoke softly, stifling a yawn with your hand as you did. It had been a long journey, and both you and Jaskier knew no one but Geralt was allowed to even touch Roach, so walking long distances was something you had gotten used to, though getting accustomed to the walking didn't mean you had grown to be any less exhausted after the lengthy journeys.

"One room." The main replied sharply, snapping you from you exhaustion almost immediately. "I only see one of ya. One room."

"Sir-"

"One room." He looked you over, a sort of repugnant heat in his gaze that you didn't quite care for. "One room... For the pretty lady all alone at night... Not very proper of ya" He scoffed.

Your stomach turned at the man's words as he circled around the desk, only pausing when he stood directly beside you.

"My friends are right outside. They'll be here in a minute." You hastily replied, not bothering to make eye contact with the man.

You visibly recoiled when you felt his hot breath suddenly fan across your cheek. "Y'er friends aren't here now are they? One. Room."

You quickly jumped from the mans touch on your waist, and finally turning fully towards him, you saw how his smile was a nauseating mix of yellows and greens as he sneered at you, creeping closer to you as you now felt yourself being cornered in between the corner of the small desk and the wall opposite.

"Well, if y'er gonna be so impolite, no room then." The man towered over you, and although you tried to keep calm, you couldn't help the way your breath shook as you stared up at the man.

The sudden sound of the swinging front doors slamming against the walls made you jump, "Petal!" You heard Geralt call.

The man almost instantly stepped away from you, his gaze now pointing to the floor. You turned to Geralt, your eyes wide with confusion and shock.

"Was wondering if you had gotten our rooms" He added, calmly sauntering over to you and gently placing a firm hand on your lower back, pushing you quickly out of the corner and into his side.

Your mind was racing, both from the shock of the inn keeper's advances and Geralt's sudden entrance and even more sudden touches. It wasn't like he hadn't ever touched you before, it was only that this felt different. Other times, he had just aimlessly grabbed at you, quickly pulling you away and out of reach from whatever creature you found yourselves up against, those touches were rough and almost meaningless, he was only saving you because he had to. You knew you were nothing but another burden for him to worry about on those hunts.

This was different. This was soft, protective, and for a moment, you even thought it was something akin to caring.

You could hear the door shudder behind you again and you could tell it was Jaskier, a soft 'oh' coming from behind you as he watched the situation unfold.

"I was just tellin' her we got three rooms just for ya right next to each other, down that hall" The man rushed, pointing down the dimly lit hallway with shaky fingers, "Just straight to the left."

Geralt took the small bag from you, reaching into it and placing a handful of coins on the counter. "Thank you" He mumbled, an intimidating glare on his face before he led you off.

You noticed how few coins he had given the man as you passed the counter and knew it was nowhere near the actual cost for three rooms, yet the man still didn't dare to say a thing as you three walked off.

Probably a matter of self preservation more than anything.

You opened the door to your room, a satisfied hum escaping your lips as you felt the warmth of the small bedroom already begin to flood your shaken senses.

"Are you alright?"

Your breath hitched in your throat at the unexpected voice that came from behind you, turning quickly to see that Geralt still lingered in the doorway.

"Fine," You sputtered, "Just a little shaken, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

You had never seen him so concerned, his brows were furrowed as he looked at you, his lips drawn into a thin line of concern.

You smiled softly at him, "I'm fine, I promise, just need some rest." You threw your arms above your head as you yawned once again.

"That's... Good." The words seemed to almost pain Geralt to say, like he was confessing something to you he hadn't even confessed to himself yet.

"Thank you, though, for your help." You smiled, a foreign heat blooming in your chest as you uttered the words.

Geralt didn't respond at first, his head tilting to the floor, though you swore you watched the beginnings of a smile begin to turn the corners of his lips. He mumbled a quiet "Goodnight", as his eyes flickered to you form, quickly looking you up and down again before shutting the door behind him, leaving you no less astonished then you were before.

The morning came all too quickly, after a rather sleepless night, you felt yourself longing for another night's stay, and if it weren't for the previous night's events, you thought that maybe you would have been able to convince Geralt to stay one more night, but you knew neither him, nor you would want to stay another evening under the same roof with that man.

You weren't sure if you would have gotten much sleep regardless.

The word echoed through your fatigue-addled mind, even as you felt yourself slowly pulled to consciousness by the slivers of sunlight that peaked through the thin curtains in the bedroom.

Petal.

He could have just called you by your name, it wasn't like he didn't know it by now. But Geralt was strategic, he never did anything without a reason, so maybe it was just a tactic to get the man away from you? Imply that the two of you were a bit more familiar to scare the man off?

"How are you faring?" Jaskier asked, tearing you from your thoughts as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder.

"I'm fine" You replied, staring to feel like a broken record, "I am, Geralt seemed to come in just in time though" You chuckled lightly, both watching him as Geralt readied Roach

"He always has a way of knowing when you're in trouble" Jaskier mumbled

"What-" You were quickly cut off by the familiar whinny of Roach, the both of you instinctively aligning yourselves on the side of her as she made her way through the town.

Jaskier only let out a smug, self satisfied hum, continuing to look forward and leaving you to torture yourself with your own thoughts.

You couldn't tell how long it had been since you left the inn, it could have been days since and you probably wouldn't have noticed, your brain only occupied by the teasing phrase Jaskier had spoken to you.

"Are you alright?" You heard Geralt's coarse voice utter once again, you huffed in frustration, how many times must everyone ask you that?

"Yes." You answered sharply, though a strange, pained feeling washed over you at your tone towards him, you chose not to think too much on it now. You finally turned up to him, noticing how he had suddenly stopped, the abrupt pause had Jaskier also now looking to him, his head tilted in confusion.

If you had blinked, you would have missed it at the speed at which Geralt dismounted, but he now stood directly in front of you, his face only inches from your own, and your chest filled with that unfamiliar, warm feeling from before.

"You can ride... If you'd like..." He finally spoke, his eyes never meeting your own as he did.

You had to stifle the scoff that threatened to leave your lips, for a moment you wondered if some Doppler had snuck into his room at night and taken his place, but then you looked into his eyes, that same unintelligible bashfulness when he stood in your doorway had appeared in his eyes once again.

"That would be nice... Thank you" You would have been a fool to say no, this would surely be the only time he would ever offer for anyone to take his place on Roach. Not only that, but you felt yourself thinking of how his face would possibly fall if you denied him, and you almost winced at the thought.

With just as much suddenness as the night before, his large hands wrapped around your waist, "May I?" He asked, a surprisingly timid smile appearing on his face.

You nodded softly, your eyes growing wide when he lifted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing. You swallowed thickly as you adjusted yourself on Roach, nodding again as Geralt began to pull on her reigns to continue the journey.

You looked around you, sighing as you admired the new view from atop the horse, but even as you admired your surroundings, you still heard the soft grumble that came from the man.

"Petal"

You were too stunned to say anything, you almost thought you had imagined it, but the annoyed groan from Jaskier beside you only confirmed what you now knew to be true, he had said it again.

There was a long journey ahead, but you noticed how you seemed to dread it a little bit less.

You weren't even supposed to be there.

Both you and Jaskier had initially stayed back at the small camp you had set up that morning, peacefully enjoying some tea you had managed to make after several failed attempts of starting a fire.

Geralt said it was to be simple, nothing he hadn't done before, but something about the deafening silence you both heard when the lake was so close, had something uneasy settle in your stomachs.

"Geralt?" Jaskier called, the both of you now sitting in anxious silence as you awaited for some sign of life.

Though nothing came.

Jasker called his name again, his cries once more met with the same blaring quietness.

It was as if your legs moved on their own accord as you carelessly threw your small cup down, starting in the direction of the lake, ignoring the concerned yells from Jaskier as you did.

You weren't the monster hunting type, that's not what they had brought you on for in the first place.

You were bait at most, and someone to make tea at the least.

You didn't kill monsters.

You felt a fearful shudder run through you at the idea that you may actually have to fight something, this was nothing anyone had ever prepared you for, but you supposed there was a first for everything.

The foul smell of the bubbling water filled your nose first before you even began to see the lake, though still, you heard nothing.

You continued to sprint as fast as your legs could take you, silently praying to hear some sound, any sound, as you got closer.

A yell, a grunt, a whisper even, you'd take anything.

But still, the silence persisted.

You couldn't quiet the shocked yell that ripped through your lungs at the sight when you finally reached the body of water.

The monster was dead, and somewhat guiltily, you felt your shoulders sag in relief as you observed how it's limbs had been haphazardly thrown in all directions, and the familiar sword nestled within the top of it's skull. But laying along the muddy bank was Geralt, both hands pressing firmly on his side, his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched.

You called his name, rushing to his side, almost sliding across the ooze-covered ground as you knelt beside him.

As if he sensed your presence, he moaned, sluggishly turning his head to you.

"What happened?" You asked frantically, he only moaned again in response and you huffed, distraught and almost delirious as your eyes scanned him.

As you sat beside him and got a closer look at his form, you could tell he was bleeding, a dark, crimson liquid leaking between fingers he pressed so snugly against his side. You tried to calm yourself as your frenzied hands wandered his chest and torso, searching for any other injuries, you knew he had to be taken back to the camp, but you were also certain you wouldn't be able to drag him back there on your own, nor did you think that even with you and Jaskier's strength combined you would be able to do so, leaving you with only one other option.

"Geralt?" He groaned, his eyes now blinking open, "Geralt?" You grabbed both his shoulders, briskly shaking them before you called his name again. After a moment, his eyes finally fully opened, a soft smile appearing on his features as he slowly began to gain his full consciousness.

"Petal..." He hummed, his eyes almost fluttering closed again before you shook him a second time.

"Can you do something for me? Geralt?" Your voice was almost hysterical as you spoke, "Can you do me one favor?"

Geralt continued to smile gingerly as he nodded his head.

"Okay, could you get up for me? Could you stand?"

His face immediately dropped into a pout as he shook his head, a deep rumble of a chuckle escaping him as he did.

You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself. You didn't know as much as Geralt, but you knew enough to know that this was not good.

He was delirious.

You internally cursed yourself for not listening to him more in those quiet moments he would talk to Roach about the other monsters he had dealt with.

You had no idea what you were dealing with.

"Camp..." He finally mumbled, his voice was weak, not like his usually commanding tone.

"Yes, we have to get you-"

He almost knocked you over at the force at which he abruptly stood, his legs trembled as he took slow steps, and you shot up beside him, lifting his arm and placing it around your shoulders to balance him as much as you could.

"C'mon-" You strained as he leaned all of his weight on you for a moment, "Let's get you back"

The rest of the dawdling journey was spent in the company of ditzy hiccups and laughs, you would imagine what a handful he would be if he ever got drunk, but your mind was too preoccupied with the still-bleeding wound Geralt covered with his other hand on his side.

"Oh my Gods" Jaskier murmured the moment he saw you appear from beyond the brush, rushing to Geralt's other side to assist you.

"What happened?" He inquired, tone almost just as frantic as yours

"I don't know."

"Is he going to be alright?"

"I don't know." You hated how your voice shook as you spoke, if your voice was stronger, maybe you would have yelled at Jaskier for his insistent line of questioning, but your only focus was now on Geralt.

You both grunted as you layed him down on the thin cot in his tent, Jaskier turned to look through the bag that was placed in the corner, anxiously tossing bottles and small pouches to the side.

Geralt grumbled once again, turning again to his side to look at you. "Petal..." He groaned, and you found yourself nodding.

"I'm right here" You sighed, your eyes now brimming with tears. "We're going to take care of you, okay? Like you've always taken care of us. You're going to be okay, promise?"

His delusional smile faded for a moment, before he shook his head.

"No, no, don't do that, you are going to be okay... Jaskier!"

"I'm doing my best!" He scrambled, "It's usually Geralt doing this-"

Geralt's left hand suddenly fell from his side, fingers weakly pointing to a rounder, black bottle that had been tossed aside in Jaskier's initial panic.

Jaskier clumsily placed the bottle in his hand, your shoulders sagged in relief when Geralt swiftly removed the cork from the bottle, drinking its contents in a single swig. His breathing seemed to even in mere seconds as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Well," Jaskier sighed, "He's not dead."

You couldn't recall a time when you had seen him sleep for this long, in fact, you couldn't seem to recall a night where you had seen him sleep at all.

Even as you turned his body and adjusted his limbs so you could properly bandage and clean the deep slash on his side, his light snoring continued.

Jaskier had left the tent hours ago, adamantly saying how he needed to rest after such a stressful event, even though you could still here the soft strumming of a lute and quiet humming just outside the tent long after he had left the two of you.

The world was quiet once Jaskier had officially retired, Geralt's breathing and the muted crackling of a slowly dying fire being the only sounds that surrounded you as you worked.

Though Geralt was never the most talkative travel companion, it was still strange for him to be completely silent, not even a grunt or hushed 'hmm' to break the reticence.

"You worried us, you know? I know you hate that, people worrying over you, but you scared us" You whispered, trailing your fingers along the injury, now completely covered by beige cloths and hidden underneath his shirt. "You scared me, I thought I was going to have to kill a monster" You chuckled to yourself, "I wasn't sure how that was going to go, maybe you should show me... At some point... Maybe" Your voice was wistful as you spoke, wondering if he would ever take you up on that offer once he finally awoke, most likely not.

He had always made it a point to never put you in any real danger, even though sometimes you'd find yourself standing directly in front of jaws that would surely eat you alive in seconds, Geralt would always assure you that you were safe, that he would kill the beast before it ever got close enough to truly hurt you.

Every time you had asked him for any sort of training so you could defend yourself if anything went wrong, he'd only scoff at you "I don't need you hurting yourself, or worse." He would always say, "I'll handle it, Petal."

"Why do you call me that?" The words tumbled from you before you could even think about them, "I do have a name you know," You smiled "I've never understood why you call me that." Maybe you didn't mind it so much.

"Soft."

You froze, unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you in the silence, or if Geralt had actually spoke.

"It's because you're soft."

Yes, he was definitely speaking to you.

You chose to ignore him completely at fist, looking forward as if he wasn't laying directly below of you as you sat on the small log you had turned into a makeshift seat. He's just waking up from a dream, you thought, he's still recovering

You heard a deep chuckle before he spoke again, "You wanted to know, and now you're ignoring me."

"Geralt? You're awake?" You asked, finally facing him.

"Clearly."

"How are you feeling?" You stammered, your breaths becoming shallower as you wondered if he had heard all of what you had said.

"Nothing I can't handle."

"I'm glad" You sighed, "I'll leave you then." You added abruptly, your only thought being of leaving the situation as quickly as possible. Though just as you began to stand, a firm hand gripped your wrist.

"No, stay." He grumbled, his eyes blinking away the remainder of his fatigue. "Please."

You returned to your place and he slowly released you, his fingers softly lingering on your hand before it dropped to his side again. Geralt groaned as he attempted to sit up, almost wincing as he finally straightened himself.

"You should res-"

"I'm fine." He grumbled, "Thank you, for... This" Geralt gestured to his side as you nodded.

"No need to thank me," You did your best to hide the twinge of anxiety in your faintly trembling voice as you spoke, but you were certain you'd already been found out regardless. "It's the least I could do after all you've done-"

His rough hand had found yours again, the pad of his thumb tracing over your knuckles as he listened to you.

"For me..." You managed to continue, your eyes focusing on the abrupt, calming touches from the man in front of you.

You could almost swear there was the beginning of a soft smile on his lips as his eyes followed his fingers, lightly tracing the ridges of the top of your hand. "It's because you're soft, Petal" He finally stated, "I never meant anything by it."

"No it's nice-" You faltered, "I just never thought it was because you liked something about me" Your voice was thick with weariness and confession as you spoke. It wasn't that Geralt hadn't shown you any ounce of caring or friendliness during the time you had known him, it was only the fact that you never thought that a man so blunt and threatening would ever give you an epithet based off of something as gentle as the softness of your touch.

Your eyes finally flickered to his and you almost instantly wanted to return your gaze to your lap. His stare was too sharp, too intense, for you to even handle without having to look away for a moment.

You had to think that he was still feeling the effects of whatever venom or blood loss - induced haze that had gotten you into his tent in the first place.

He couldn't be looking at you like that.

Like he wanted to smother you alive.

Like he wanted to keep you all to himself in this small space forever.

Like he wanted to love you.

A contemplative 'hmm' was all you received in response at first, though still tracing over your hand, he continued "And why do you think that?" He questioned.

"You never wanted me to join you in the first place."

His movements stilled, you found yourself even shocked by your own words. You had never spoke to him so plainly about your feelings, perhaps it was something about being so close to him that made it so difficult to hide.

"That's true." He acknowledged, and you felt a dull, thrumming ache of discontent bloom in your chest at his admission.

"I was only ever bait for you to use to get you monsters" You added, feeling an unexpected rush of tears flood your eyelids.

There was a brief pause before he responded again, "That's true."

"And when I ask for you to train me, to show me something that could be more useful than just standing and waiting for something to kill me, you refuse." You felt helpless as you spoke, feeling like you were finally admitting things to yourself you had pushed to the very corner of your mind for so long. You felt disposable, and it hurt to watch as he mindlessly agreed to all of your concerns. "I want to be something more..."

You meant to say something else, something quick and biting so he understood that you weren't to be taken advantage of anymore, but you weren't sure that even if you opened your mouth a single sound would even escape. You felt your cheeks begin to dampen as your teeth pulled at your quivering bottom lip.

Through the heart beat thundering in your ears, you heard Geralt murmur your name, nevertheless, you refused to look at him, your gaze still fixed on the soil under your feet as you tried to stifle your own whimpers.

Your breath hitched in your lungs when two fingers grabbed your chin, tilting your head upwards. You hadn't noticed how he had shifted, now kneeling in front of you, his face level with your own.

He stated your name again, this time with more certainty as he stared back at you, his brow lightly furrowed as his hand shifted to cup your face, his thumb whipping the tear that rolled down your cheek. "But so much has changed since I've begun to know you..." He whispered, "You are more to me."

You didn't have a moment to respond before his lips crashed into yours, his other hand creeping up to your neck as he pulled you closer. His kiss was bruising, though it still remained a gentle mess of passion and tears as he cradled you between his palms, holding you with a tenderness as if he held the entire planet within his hands. He groaned into you when your hands found purchase on the collar of his black tunic, your senses completely surrounded with nothing but him as he slanted his lips across yours.

"You are more to me than that" He spoke breathlessly, his lips still continuing to chase your own between words, "I care for you, and I know that I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Geralt-"

"Please, I can't lose you because of this. You mean too much to me." His breathing was shallow as he pulled away from you, hands still cupping your cheeks as he did.

You could only nod at first before finally gathering yourself enough to speak, "I care for you, Geralt..." Your smile was weak and tearful as you replied. "Too much to leave now."

"Stay?" He whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as you nodded softly once again.

Geralt let out a pained moan as he adjusted himself on the cot, slowly lowering himself on the linen and shifting himself just enough to allow you room to lay beside him.

You smiled as you pressed against him, the comforting warmth of his arms wrapping around your waist already beginning to push you into sleep.

Before the exhaustion of the day could finally pull you under, you felt the delicate press of Geralt's lips against your forehead, the quiet rumble of his voice finally lulling you to sleep.

"Soft."

oh my goodness gracious, my heart, i am actually kind of super excited about how this turned out surprisingly!! i do love some hurt/comfort, and i've been feeling slightly e h about myself, so i hope this does bring some comfort to anyone feeling that way!! or just some comfort to you all in general!! i hope you are all doing so well!! mwauh!!

want more geralt? check out my masterlist!!

Not Allowed

Dbd!Myers x f!Reader

Reader it’s new to the realm, she gets a good first impression on everyone; killer and survivor. Tho there’s certain someone who seams to became too obsessed with her. She doesn’t get it, she thinks this killer hates her with all their guts. Sooner than later she finds that some interactions and relationships are not allowed in the realm.

WG: Some angst and cursing Michael actually talks but this is not actually a warning lol mentions of death, blood and gore. Michael and Ghostface have a bromance cause deep down they are besties. Dbd!Michael it’s based on RZ! Michael here. Use if y/n twice on the entire fic. Ghostface removes his mask. Michael removes his mask. Big old Pewpaw Kazan Yamaoka, aka, the ink is a great hugger. Happy ending(?)

You were brand new to the realm, like a new born baby. You didn’t understand what was going on, one night you went to bed and the next thing you know it’s the uncomfortable feeling of grass and wood sticks on your back. This was beyond clear that it wasn’t your bed.

You woke up scared as hell in an unknown forest to you, it’s was late at night you could tell and you didn’t met a single soul this far. All of that was vanished when the sound of what it seemed a camp fire stroked your ears, and for your surprise it wasn’t just a camp fire you could distinguish the sound of human voices too. It didn’t seem too far from were you currently were. So you walked a little faster while covering your chest with your own arms in a sutil attempt to combat the cold weather.

You stepped closer to the people in the camp fire to ask for help and maybe an answer to what was going on here. As you got closer could see a bunch of girls and a few boys. One of the girls had red hair and running clothes, the Oder one had short black hair, she was wearing glasses, the other one had also shirt hair, she was wearing a black and red shirt and loosen pants, on the other side; one of the boys was tall with very short black hair and when you herd him taking he had a british accent, the other boy had also black hair but it reached the mid of his face.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You said. Your voice low but clear. The red hair girl turned around to look at you. Suddenly everyone stopped talking.

“Oh my god…” The red hair girl stated. “Guys…I think we have a new partner!” She continued.

Everyone smiled at you and presented themselves. It turned out the red hair girl’s name was Meg Thomas, the girl with the glasses was Claudette Morel, the other girl was Nea Karlson, the British guy was David King and the other guy was Jake Park.

“Did you just arrived?” Claudette asked.

“Yeah…I don’t know where I am.” You stated.

“What’s your name girl?” Meg asked.

“Where are you from?” Another question, this time Jake.

“She’s gonna need a lot of help.” You herd David talking.

“Guys, why don’t we just let her sit with us and let her talk?” Nea said. It was the first time she talked.

You smiled for the first time.

You sat next to Meg and Nea and proceeded to tell every detail about you, your name, your age, where were you from. You told them that last night you had a fight with your parents and when you went to sleep you woke up here.

“We get you, we really do.” Jake spoke.

Everyone told you their personal story. How they end up here, but most important of all they told you what was going on in this place.

“There’s uhm…there’s something that we call the entity, that rules all of this place. She can do what she pleases with us and with everyone.” Nea talked looking at you.

“To survive and to keep every thing, no matter how small it might be, here with us, like some food and water, we have to go through trials.” Jake explained.

“Trials?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we must repair five generators to open the exit gates.” Meg continued.

“That’s it? Just five generators? It’s a piece of cake…” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t say that if i were you…” David looked at you.

“Why not?” You talked back.

David sight, then he explained the most difficult part.

“We must face a killer that will be with us in the same place.”

“WHAT!? A real killer? Like from slasher movies?” You stated.

“Yes, a real killer.” David stated.

“N-no, no, I wanna go home, please!” You yell at the sky hopping this entity would hear you and somehow pity you.

Everyone looked at you with sad eyes, they knew you weren’t going home anytime sooner.

“Wish we could do something about it, I’m so sorry.” Jake spoke again after a long time.

You moved your head to the sides and looked down, a long sigh scapes your mouth. “Shit…” that’s all that came from you. Everyone remained silent for a while until you spoke again.

“So, how this trial thing works?”

“Well, the entity select some of us for the trial, four survivors to be exact. To help you in the trial you can carrie an object with you, this objects being a toolbox or a flashlight or a med kit and others. Every object has their own use, the toolbox can be use on the generators or to sabotage the hooks the killer use to hook us, by the way; the killer’s main goal is to hook us all in those hooks, flashlights are meant to blind the killer and save your teammates that se going to get hook, and last but not least the med kit as its name suggests can be use to heal yourself or your teammates. Also when you get hook-“ Claudette was interrupted by survivors who just came back from a trial. Four survivors emerged from the dar fog of this place.

“Gosh, that trial was so easy, I need something more challenging!” A young girl with blonde hair spoke.

“Hey Laurie, who was the killer this time?” David asked her.

Laurie? Like the same Laurie from the Halloween movies? You thought to yourself. The intrigue of knowing if you were right was eating your brain, you know you wouldn’t last any longer so you had to ask her.

“The trickster.” This girl said looking at David.

“Uhm excuse me, Laurie? Like Laurie Strode form the Halloween movies?” You finally asked her.

“Yes! I’m her. You must be new right?” She smiled back at you.

“Yes, in fact I got here a few moments ago.” You then proceed to present yourself.

“So nice to meet you! I know we’re gonna be good friends, watcha say new girl?” Laurie had a content face. New girl huh? You liked the new nickname.

“I hope so! By the way I loved that nickname!” Laurie smiled back at your words.

Nea joined your conversation with Laurie explaining further more how the trials work.

“Continuing with the trials, we’re gonna spawn in a map. In this map you will find certain constructions you can use to loop the killer, evade them or confuse them.

“Ok.” You listen very carefully to what Nea said.

Sooner than later you realize that some of the survivors that came with Laurie were from the Resident Evil game franchise. Leon and Jill were here, you wondered if others form the same games were too. You smiled when you saw Chris and Claire in this place too. You presented yourself like you did with everyone else and they seemed to like you as much as the rest did.

“We should tell you that some survivors came along with their respective killers, generally they are related to them. For example, Leon and me came along with Nemesis.” Jill explained.

“So…if you guys came along with Nemesis that means you Laurie came along with M-“

“Yes, I came along with Michael Myers.” She finished the sentence for you. The second you hear that afirmation you knew you no longer wanted to get back home.

“Gosh that’s awesome! I love the Halloween movies, as much as the Resident Evil games or the Scream movies. I love Halloween season so much, and Halloween loves me.” You gave the guys a mischievous smile.

“That’s great! But do let me tell you that most of the killers aren’t nice as us survivors. Some of them lack empathy and act rude. Tho I have to say some killers are nice sometimes.” Leon’s voice was calm but it sounded firm.

“I see, so uhm…Michael?” Your question was meant to find out how he acts in this place.

“Well, Michael has his “I think I could spare you” moments sometimes, but most of the time he just hooks us…he’s very accurate I would say.” Laurie didn’t have anything left to say about Michael.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of disappointment and excitement, you wanted to face him so bad by now. Eventually the time for your first trial came, thankfully you weren’t alone, Laurie got picked too. You asume that the most optimal object to take with yourself for your first trial was med kit.

Soon the trial started and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that the killer you were going against was none other than Michael Myers himself. You were over excited, you wanted to say hi, let him know how much you liked his movies. You wander how he was going to act this time, you assumed since you were new maybe he could spare you. He was lurking near the generator you were currently working on, unaware you were conscious he was there.

Something inside you made you leave the generator and get closer to Michael. You could see he was stalking Jill, who was also picked with you, David was here too, somewhere on the map. You got closer and closer to Michael until you were near his back. The sound of a wood stick breaking under your feet gave you away. He stopped on his track and tilted his head to the left making you know he heard you. Your heart was ricing at this point. He turned around completely to face you. You could hear him breathing behind his mask. His blueish eyes analyzing you. The leafs under his feet made a cracking noise as he slowly walked towards you. Walking in circles around you he kept looking you up and down. Something form you caught his attention, maybe you reminded him form someone, he didn’t know. One thing was certain, besides looking you he was also stalking you. He made a final step in front of you, this time he was very near you. You instantly thought it was your end when he lifted his kitchen knife at you. You closed your eyes ready to get hit and downed, but the empty feeling of nothing tearing your flesh apart made you open your eyes. Yes, he was still there but his didn’t made a single move against you, he didn’t even tried to down you.

“I-i uhm know you! I love your movies.” You didn’t know why you said that. You felt so stupid. He didn’t answer of course he just tilted his head to the left.

He started moving forward through the map that’s stroke you late it was Haddonfield. You were following him, you didn’t fully understand why he didn’t try to kill you or stab you. Asking him questions didn’t seemed a bad idea to you tho. “So, how you end up here?” And another one “How long have you been here?” And another “Why don’t you talk?”, “Don’t you miss your home?”, “I told you i love your movies right? I think i did..” You even told him your name and your age and the place you came form, even how you end up here. But he never answered, all he did was stopping whenever you asked something and turn around to look at you.

Later than sooner you realize he was heading toward Laurie, who happened to see all the interactions between Michael and you.

“New girl? What are you doing?! RUN!” She screamed at you. She stepped forward to grab your hand, and just as she saw Michael was going for you she stepped in the middle of you to. Michael grabbed her instead. He grabbed Laurie by the throat and buried the long kitchen knife in her abdomen.

“OH MY GOD LAURIE!” You scream in panic. The young blond girl struggled against Michael who buried the knife deeper fully killing her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE, DON’T HURT HER!” Blood leaving Laurie’s body as he throws her on the street asphalt. He lowered his knife for a second and walked to your side, he looked again at you, this time inches away from your face. You closed your eyes waiting for your inevitably fate, which it never came. He lifted his knife again and went for the rest of the survivors, Jill and you were left until it was only you.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. You were just meters away from Michael who was facing back at you and still had his knife up.

You heard a little noice of something opening near you, but Michel herd it too. This time walking towards you, ready to curse him you saw how he walked pass you a few meters away and turned to look at you again, this time putting his knife down. He look down at what it seemed to you like a little door on the street, and look back up at you. You didn’t understand. You catch up with him and looked him dead in his dark eyes.

“Fuck..you..and this place and your stupid movies!!” He gestured down to the little gate again.

“I don’t get it!! I don’t know what it means…freak.” You were really starting to hate him, or you were just scared. Claudette didn’t finish to tell you that this things happen frequently. Deaths happen frequently, but you just didn’t know it. Michael gestured one last time to the little door and then looked up at you.

“FUCK! I don’t want it! Screw you bastard!” You push him a little bit, you knew this time you went too far when he grabbed you by your throat and push you against the nearest parked car. You tried your best to hit him hard, unfortunately he didn’t even react.

“I-i can’t…can’t breath Mich-michael…” You felt your air leaving your lungs. He gave you his signature look and move his knife closer to you. Then you finally felt it. Cold, it sting like, you finally felt the pain. Then all over again, and again, and again. He stabbed you, more than once. He wasn’t stabbing vital points, he was going slow.

“Please…” You pleaded, in vain, cause he didn’t stop. Instead he got out all the knife and finally stabbed you deeper. Little pain sounds scaped your mouth, and for the first time on this place you cried. Then all turned black. Just like that you were gone.

Michael put your body down, surprisingly with gentle moves. He kept looking at your dead body noticing what was left of your tears. He wasn’t going to kill you. When he saw you for the first time moments ago something woke up in him, he didn’t know what it was. You intrigued him in a way nothing ever did before. He wasn’t bother by your questions, the first time he looked at you was because he didn’t know what to do, he analyzed your gestures your face, your eyes...the other times he stopped when you asked him a question was on purpose, he wanted to look at your precios eyes just to be sure he wasn’t making it all up. He didn’t want to kill you, but…why did you act like that? He wanted you to leave, damn he even offered you the hatch. The second those hurting words left your mouth he felt attacked. He was trying to be nice, to do something nice…why couldn’t you be nice to him too? He was hurt, you caught his attention, but you hurt him. Why? You even said you loved his movies, why were you being so rude to him? He let his knife fell to the street, looking down he brought one hand to his masked face and one single scream was heard on Haddonfield that night. He was the only one left there.

The feeling of your death still lingered on your body the first time you came back to the camp fire. Laurie, Jill and David were already there due to that they have been killed earlier before you. You couldn’t help but feel awful.

“He…killed…he killed us. Like we were nothing.” You sounded so disgusted.

“Yeah new girl…most of the time it is like this. We forgot to tell you that killers hook survivors to sacrifice them to the entity. Or sometimes they can kill us with their own hand…like Michael did.” Laurie explained. You were so relieved to know that even if you or anyone gets killed they came back.

“I tried to be nice…i-i really did. I even want sure if he was going to kill me, but then he got you Laurie…” You continued.

“I saw all of it. And it was rare! He never acted like that with new survivors.” Laurie exclaime surprised.

“What you mean?” You replied back.

“He wasn’t just stalking you…he seemed to be analyzing you as well…who knows for what or why?” Laurie confirmed.

“Well that didn’t go well did it? I think he hates me…”

“I think he saw something in you. He likes you…” Laurie’s word were spoken so low you didn’t hear her, tho the rest of the survivors did, and they shared the same theory. Because killers can be nice sometimes, you heard killers like Ghostface, or Deathslinger, or even Oni had a good side….but Michael? He was known to be nice just three or four times since he got in the realm. It was unusual his behavior. And they know it, specially Laurie who came with him and Danny the Ghostface who seemed to grow closer to Michael over the years.

On the other hand, in the distant across the camp fire were the killers. They were all in the same place, hanging and resting like survivors did. It existed a physical barrier that separated the camp fire form the killers. Both survivor and killer could get near this barrier but couldn’t cross it. Survivors could meet the killers on trials or if the decided to go to certain map or place. Once there they could interact. But some interactions were not allowed. It’s not like something bad would happen to the survivor or the killer, it was the fact that the entity didn’t want that in her realm. It was known that when a killer didn’t do well in the trial, the entity would punish them, maybe she would make them see something they fear or hurt them the most, something about their past maybe. This only happens when the entity consideres it necessary.

Danny, Kazan, Caleb and Herman were watching the trial. They were also surprised Michael tried to spare the new girl. Of course the also saw how you rejected the offer. Michael came back to the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, head pointing down.

“Hey Mike, you’re okay?” Danny asked him, his vice distant due to the ghost face mask. Michael didn’t answer he just looked at him. It’s not that they didn’t hear him talking tho, this time he just chose to remain silent and walk away. Danny was going to follow him but Caleb stopped him.

“Leave him be, give him some space…” Danny looked at him, then his head turned to look at Michael walking away. His eyes looked down behind his mask. He then decided to walk away too.

“Rejection can hurt.” Kazan said. His English still had a fainted Japanese accent.

“Sure does.” Herman added.

Michael made sure there was nobody with him. Once he realized he was all alone, his hands reached the bottom of his mask and pulled it up, reveling his face. Long blond and a little dirty hair covered part of his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, the way you walked with him while asking questions, your hair, your face…then he remembered those harsh words leaving your mouth. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand so bad why, why did you do that? He was trying to be nice, he usually isn’t. He knows he’s mean, selfish, he has a dark twisted heart, if he even had one. He find himself surprised by the choice of letting you go, to leave through the hatch. He lives for the hunt, the cat and mouse play, the adrenaline he feels when he kills. He’s no good and he knows it very well. On the other hand he felt hurt at your words…he felt…something was wrong with him, it must be right? He never experienced anything let along feelings. So he got to the conclusion that he was just offended by some words. You had offended him, yet here he is, thinking non stop of you.

Back to the others, Caleb was taking with Kazan.

“I think…I think he either likes her or she became his obsession. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, we didn’t cross paths yet. He’s the first one she goes against.” Said Caleb.

“Dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has it.” Kazan abruptly said. Caleb wasn’t following.

“Excuse me?

“Soul.” Kazan explained. “His soul is dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has one.” He finished. Caleb rises an eyebrow at Kazans words as to say he is not understanding him.

“Souls, I can see. Souls, I can sense.” Kazan said.

“It’s that so? How’s mine then?” Caleb teased.

“Baka…” It wasn’t rare at all for the Oni to speak Japanese now and then, he just told Caleb he’s a moron.

“Oh come on Kazan! You know my Japanese it’s not fresh!” Caleb protested then saw Kazan walking away.

Days turned into weeks in the realm and you were getting better at trials and so far killer you face killer you got to like you, not as much as Michael apparently. The things with him didn’t change unfortunately. Whenever you two go against each other he tries to give you hatch even if he didn’t sacrifice anyone. All the words that left your mouth were hate words and curse words. You decided if he was going to hate you you will hate him back. Tho deep down you didn’t like that idea. Now and then you catch yourself waking pass the limit of the barrier, just in case you see him. At this point it was like a dynamic. You would face him in a trial, get at his nerves, sometimes he would try to give the hatch anyway but you always complain. And that ends in painful death. You felt like he kills you slower than the rest on purpose. He won’t admit that he also walks pass the limit of the barrier, but in his case he does see you, he sees everything thing you say or do. Of course he does this intentionally. He doesn’t know why he keeps torturing you like he does, or even why he keeps torturing himself watching you knowing nothing will ever happen. Maybe all he wants is to make you hurt, because that way he gets to hear you begging him and saying his name so low.

Michael…please. Stop it.

A soft beg said in a soft voice. All you ever mean by this is for him to stop killing you like he does. He gets you sacrificed sometimes, but you rather get sacrificed a million times than to feel the cold of his kitchen knife stabbing you deep in your guts in the most slow way possible.

By now, you have met all the survivors and went against every killer. But you were closer to Laurie, Nea, Jill, Leon, Yun Jin, Feng, Yui, Oni, Ghostface, the Deathslinger, the Spirit and Wesker. It’s not like you didn’t like the rest of killers and survivors, you just were closer with some. You would often speak with Wesker to hear about genetic stuff, and then you would tease him about some random word you thought it was funny. He would look at you and say something like:

“Hey don’t push me new girl, you will not want me to go Michael!” He laughed. His sense of humor was evident not shared with yours.

“That was not funny Albert.” You said, he looked down.

“I apologize.”

“Rude..” You smiled when you heard Kazan saying that when Albert left.

This far you couldn’t really complain about your staying here. You wish things with Michael were different tho. There was this time when you faced The Doctor, and you were carrying a flashlight, you were getting good at flashlight saves, everything was laugh and fun. You blind him several times, and save your teammates a couple of other time too.

“Hey stop it with the flashlight, new girl! I can call you new girl too right?” Herman asked, annoyed but with a yet friendly tone. In response you pointed the flashlight to his face and granted permission to call you bay your nickname.

“Come on!!! Stop it! I’m warning ya!” He yeld.

“Or what doc?” You really weren’t taking him seriously. Next thing you know is you’re hooked then unhooked, and hooked again. The second time one of your teammates unhooked you, Herman tunneled you and killed you with his own hands.

When you came back to the camp fire you were laughing like a maniac. You really had a good time, not fully caring if you got tunneled or not. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t like that. Not.a.single.bit.

What happened next? The next trial you went on, you and Feng were the only ones left, and guess what? Your were going against Michael, again. This time was different, he actually down you with normal hits and hooked you, it was your first hook when Feng tried to rescue you. It’s not necessary to say Michael grabbed her before she could unhook you. He grabbed poorFeng by the neck and then looked at you, then back at Feng, she knew what was coming. He killed her with his own hand many times before, she didn’t mind at this point. But you? Oh boy you did care…

“Michael…” You say terrified. He tilted his head, he didn’t say a single word but you knew he meant to say “what?” He lift her from the ground and started to get his knife out.

“No please…Michael,” You knew he saw that trial with Herman, you were having fun with the flashlight, then you got tunneled, but you didn’t care, why did he? You could tell it was some type of pay back on Herman, because Feng was his survivor. But..you weren’t his…

Of course Michael was getting his pay back, he just wasn’t going to admit it to you. Pay back exactly for what? For the tunneling? Or maybe was cause he saw you laughing and having fun with Herman instead of him. He thinks he deserves that from you too. Or maybe not, by the way he kept killing you he didn’t doubt why you hated him so much. He just didn’t know what to do. Deep down he must feel that he has to hurt you bad because you hurted him, you kind of rejected him, and one part of him resented you for that. But his other part knows that giving you the worst death of the trial was the only way to get you to talk nicely to him…the way you beg…maybe he wanted so bad to hear you beg cause he couldn’t let himself beg you for attention, for that thing he felt only wfor his mother and his little baby sister, a little bit of love.

Him? Begging? Michael Myers never begged. Victims beg him for mercy, beg him to spare them. He wouldn’t allowed to do that himself.

“Please!!! PLEASE!! LET HER GO!” He didn’t listen any of your words, and the tip of his knife threatened to go deeper into Feng’s belly. You didn’t know what else to do, what else could you say.

“I’m sorry Michael! I’m so sorry, it’s my fault!” The desperate plea for Michael to stop for a second. He knew you didn’t mean to apologize for how you been treating each other. You meant that Feng death was your fault. He turned to look at you. For a second you thought you got it, he would stop. Reality hitter you like a truck when you heard Feng’s desperate cries of pain.

“NOO! PLEASE! FENG!” You cried and sobbed hard. “I’m so sorry Feng.” You apologized to your already dead friend laying on the cold snow of Ormond.

“Why…” Tears falling from your eyes like waterfalls. “Why are you doing this to me? Why I’m not even allowed to have friends…I need them Michael…” you continued.

He remained silent.

“I fucking hate you…your making it impossible for me to be here!” You reclaim.

Imposible for her? He thought. You were the one who put his world and all he knew this entire time upside down. If your harsh words hurt him, this hurt him even more. All of a sudden he got closer to you, and closer….to the point you two were face to face. He hit you with his knife while you were hooked. It was already too late when he noticed that the sharp blade of his knife had cut deep on your throat.

Your face of sudden realization he sliced your throat and your were bleeding out was too much for him. He closes his eyes every time he kills you, but this was too much. This felt way more painful that his normal killing mode. Tears running down your face as you tried to cover your bloody throat in pain. Not being able to tolerate seeing you die like this in so, so much pain, Michael left. He left you there alone to die in the cold.

The trial ended and Michael came back before you, stepping into the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, he was met with Danny, Kazan and Herman.

“Bro…was cutting her throat open really necessary there?” Danny asked him, not really judging him, cause after all you got sacrificed and that what counted. Michael leaned back against the nearest tree there. He looked at Danny, and for the first time since he met you he decided that talking wasn’t going to hurt him that bad.

“No it wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.” He answered Danny’s question.

Herman decided to join the conversation too.

“Are you okay Michael?” Herman asked. Michael didn’t reply what he expected. He looked at Herman, and for one second he felt ashamed of what he did to Feng Ming, but specifically why he did it. And then something he never thought he would say.

“I’m sorry about Feng Ming.” Herman opened his eyes more…if that was even possible.

Michael gathered himself from the tree and walk away. Kazan made a gesture to Danny. Follow him, that’s what he was tending to say. Needless to say Danny got the hint almost immediately. Danny stood up and quickly tried to put up with Michael.

On the camp fire side, desperate cries and tears came down your face. It turns out that, since Michael cutted your throat while you were still on hooked, when you came back you found out by Laurie’s words that a thin but long scar adorned you neck. You couldn’t believe it. You loved using necklaces and stuff, but now? You wouldn’t be able to use one without the scar sticked to your neck like a bad tattoo.

“I can’t believe this…” You cried. You were so weak that Laurie was holding you by your left arm as Rebecca told you to go to the medical support room, which it was only another part of the camp fire, but with the few things Rebecca could gathered around to help, heal and examine other’s wounds.

“It’s ok girl…we got you.” Laurie reaffirmed. You wouldn’t stop crying. Rebecca was walking in front of you, and Laurie still by your side. You heard a distant “Michael wait!” You recognized that voice immediately.

Ghostface…Danny. You thought. You knew He was close with Michael so you figured out he must be with him.

If I see him I’ll kill him. You thought to yourself. Of course you knew the odds of actually killing a Killer were none, %0. But this time Michael has gone too far and now all you wanna do is tell him how bad he has hurt you. Was he even going to react at your words? Probably not. You turn to look at your left were the barrier was, and you were right. Ghostface was trying to keep up the pace walking Michael had. Laurie seemed to notice you notice Michael on the other side, and gesture to Rebecca to stay with you for a moment.

“Hey, Michael…HEY!” She spoke caughting his attention. Michael stopped and turned to look at Laurie as she got closer and closer to the barrier.

“What’s your deal with her?! You went too far this time! She came back crying and sobbing like an animal!” Michael didn’t react to her words, which only made you angrier. You stepped closer to the barrier as well next to Laurie, this time you were beyond hurt.

“Why…? Why you hate me su much?!” That’s all you could ask.

Michael looked at you but to he was showing no emotions, and you were really starting to suspect it was not due to his mask, you truly believed he hates you for something you couldn’t completely understand.

“You know what? Fuck it I’m done trying to talk to you and to ask-no, beg you to speak back to me and tell me what I did wrong…” tears running down your face.

Michael saw you crying, leaning against Laurie for help. The effort you did in your last trial with him was too much to handle for your little frame. Besides, the feeling of getting your throat cut open was awful. His eyes looked down behind his mask, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. The sound of your cries and sobbing were tearing through his chest, straight to his heart, if he even had one. He didn’t put a name to what he was feeling and experience when you were with him or near him, all he knew was death, blood and pain. He couldn’t afford to feel anything else…right? With that in mind he turned around and walk away silently.

“Yeah, walk away…like you always do.” You said in a low tone. Throat still hurting for the previous abused it received. He pretend no to listen to what you say. He couldn’t help but feel how something inside started to break.

Michael wondered if the entity was going to do something about this eventually. Little did he know that in reality, the entity was amazed by you and how you treated Michael the first time you met him. Needless to say, that the entity knew how both of you felt for each other. And the only reason she was going to allow what she was going to do, was because she knew both, you and Michael, would react eventually and arrange the differences between you two.

The entity had a plan.

Michael kept stalking you from the dark the rest of the night, that’s how he found out you wanted a choker to cover up the nasty scar. He wasn’t alone tho, Danny was with him. “Ahh…I really would like a choker.” Those were your exact words.

“You heard that Mike?” Danny asked looking at him, smiling behind his mask. Michael nodded.

“I..want to apologize..for..everything I did to her.” Michael said, looking down, eyes to coward to look at you complaining about the scar, a scar he gave you.

“Hey! Now we’re talking!” Danny’s voice a little bit enthusiastic. “How you plan on doing that? I don’t think by just saying that she will even consider to forgive you man…”

“I’ve got an idea…” Michael looked at Danny, then proceeded to whisper in his covered ear what he was going to do.

“It sounds great Mike! You’ll will need lots of paper and fabric. Maybe your mask supplies might work that thing as well!” Danny said looking at your throat’s scar.

“I’m going to Haddonfield.” And with That Michael made his way to his own home town.

Michael spent all night on Haddonfield working on something to give you as for an apology. On the other hand, you didn’t do much, you didn’t had trials that day, until like 6 o’clock you spent your time talking with Kazan, and Danny.

“I don’t like my scar…”

“Scars are sings of fight, if you survive fights it means your strong, therefor scars shows strength.” Kazan spoke.

“I agree with this big red guy here.” Danny added.

“I guess your right guys.”

Somewhere meters away from you, on the killer side, Evan and Caleb were sharing a interesting conversation. You see, Evan since he’s been here long before most of the killers he can speak with the entity sometimes.

“So…your telling me the entity’s plan is basically hope for the best? There’s no way we can know how he will react to it. He has never been punished before!” Caleb said.

“We gotta trust her plan Caleb.” Evan said, his gaze looking up where the entity is supposed to be.

“I hope she don’t do wrong.”

“She never does, Caleb. She never does.”

Time passed and you keep talking with Kazan and Danny from your side of the camp. Danny telling you something about his camera you didn’t quite catch the meaning. It was so specific and technical you didn’t even try to understand it. Then you asked Kazan to tell you everything he knew about the Samurai. You’ve always loved Japanese culture, you wanted to go someday to japan too.

“I would have loved to travel to Japan…” Your voice flooded with sadness.

“It’s so beautiful…my country…I don’t doubt you would have love it.” Kazan replays.

You were so focused on your conversation with Kazan and Danny that you didn’t notice Michael joining them. When you saw him all the joy on your face instantly disappeared. It’s like you couldn’t had one minute alone, not even a day! Kazan and Danny didn’t understand your sudden change of mood.

“What the hell do you want now?” You said, eyes wouldn’t dare to leave that white mask of his.

Both Kazan and Danny looked at each other, raised their shoulders until they looked behind themselves.

“Guys, can we move somewhere else please? I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with this freak.” You said looking dead to Michael’s eyes. Danny examined Michael for a moment and noticed something in his right hand.

“New girl…” Danny looked at you.

“What??” You already sounded pissed.

“Please, just give him a moment…” He said. It was the first time you heard The Ghostface say “please”, so for the sake of it you listed.

Michael stepped closer to the barrier, Danny and Kazan gave him space so his now was positioned in the middle. He reached his right hand to the edge of the barrier beneath him and tossed something to your side. You looked at it confused.

“I don’t get it, the hell do you want?!” You yeld at him.

Michael looks down at the object then back up at you. He wanted you to grab it. You sigh ruin discomfort as you bent down to grab it. Still didn’t catching what it was. All you knew it was soft to the touch.

“And I’m still don’t getting it, maybe I’m just stupid or perhaps you should fucking talk to me already!!” You were getting angrier every minute.

“I think you should open it..” Kazan has an idea of what could it been, you said earlier that you hated your scar, so he though maybe it was a necklace. You looked at Danny for his opinion too. He just nodded.

“Agh!! The things I do for you guys…” You said, your voice still angry. Michael couldn’t help but to feel bad you wanted to spend time with them but not with him.

Your eyes filled with anger when you saw this thing was a choker, and you didn’t even know why. Deep down you wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t seem to find a reason.

“Sorry.” A single word scaped Michael’s mouth. It was the first time he ever spoke to you. Yet you felt it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t a worthy apology.

“Sorry? SORRY?! That’s all you could came up with?

“New girl, I think you shou-“ You didn’t let Danny finish.

“Your pathetic! Your fucking pathetic you hear me? I can’t believe I told you I loved your movies. How I regret that, I regret being nice to you..” You were angry as ever.

The bad treat continued, once, twice..you couldn’t count how many bad, nasty and hurting things you said to him.

“Childish!”

“Coward!”

“Fuckin evil!!”

“I hope you die fucking bastard, I want you dead!”

You tossed back the choker to the other side in contempt, and when you finished something scaped your mouth. Something that even in the most agitated of situations you wouldn’t even think of saying.

“Your mom was a fucking whore, a filthy slut. I bet she didn’t even wanted to have you in the first place!! Why don’t you just leave me alone, damn it!” You yelled at him hitting the invisible barrier that separated you from him and your friend killers. You knew thanks to the movie his mom used to be a stripper. His heart skipped a bit when you said that. Now he knew for sure he had a heart.

If he was hurt before now he was torn to pieces. But what torn apart his heart the most was knowing that, despite what you had just said, what he felt for you didn’t change a damn bit. With no more further a do, he proceeded to walk away. Danny followed him as usual, trying to get him to stay.

“Come on Mike! Don’t leave.” He yelled. “You went way too far kid…Kazan, looked at the choker.” He continued, he notice something written inside the choker, you just hadn’t seen it. Kazan took the little fabric from the dirty ground, wipped of the dirt and read it. Danny far gone by now.

“Kazan…? What does it say?” You asked him.

“You made me human…” This words stabbed you right in your chest. You knew very well the pain of getting stabbed, but this? This can’t be compared.

You felt awful. Why did you said that? It’s not like you even meant it. You felt your eyes filling with tears again at what you just said to him. All alone you thought that hurting him back the way he’d hurt you would make you feel better. But it didn’t. It just made you feel worse. Like you had no soul.

“I…I really messed up here, didn’t i? Kazan?” You looked at his red Oni mask.

“I’m afraid you did…” He confessed.

“Oh my god…what did I do?” You tried to see if you could find Michael with your eyes from your side of the camp. What you didn’t know was that the moment Michael tossed you the choker he made the entity put to work her own plan. You could hear a distant voice, again it was Danny.

“Hey, Mike! Hey!! Michael!” Danny exclaimed, yet no answer from Michael. Danny’s exclamations for Michael became more and more audible. Something was wrong, you knew it, you could feel it. You ran in direction of Danny’s voice.

“Dude wake up! Michael!” Danny kept saying. You got there panting and sweating. Kazan followed a little bit after.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he was like this when I catch up with him.”

You could see his body was struggling. His left hand holding his knife, knukles white as milk. His breathing could be heard from where you were. He was getting trouble to breathe. Soft pants and groans suddenly left his mouth too. He sounded like he was in pain, but physically he looked fine. No blood or sings of injuries. It take you a lot of effort to notice through his eyes of his mask that his real eyes were glued shut and a few tears running down.

“Oh my god…his eyes! Look at his eyes.” You told Danny.

“He’s crying!” Danny said surprised.

“Something’s wrong with him. Something’s wrong with him!” You exclaimed. His groans and pants became louder.

“Ahh agh…” Michael complained. Hearing him like this putted you on desperate mode. You tried hitting the barrier unsuccessfully, even kicked it several times.

“Please let in through!” You yelled at the sky, knowing the entity will hear you.

“Do something, guys. Help him! I can’t do anything from here!”

Danny tried to shake his body. No responce. Kazan snaked his body even harder. Again, no response. You noticed some pamphlets in the ground near his boots. You pointed this out to Danny and Kazan. It didn’t took you long to realize that those were her mother’s stripper pamphlets. So did Ghostface and Oni.

“He’s being punished…” Kazan said.

“What? Why?!” You cried. “It’s because of the choker?” You asked.

“Maybe, we don’t know.” Danny spoke.

“No! Please, it’s not his fault it’s mine! I’m the one who should be punished. Please!” You begged to the entity. At this point Michael had his head looking up. Grantings of pain still scaped his mouth.

“No Michael, Michael…listen to me!” You looked at his poor suffering form. “I was wrong. I was wrong! All of this wasn’t your fault. I overreacted, okay? And your mom? Your mom was a beautiful person. She did everything she could for you and both your sisters! I was wrong Michael. I’m so sorry…so so sorry! I didn’t mean anything of this to happen…” You sobbed while explaining yourself. Michael managed to look down at you.

Desperation taking over your body, you punched and kicked the barrier. Demanding the entity to let you in just this once.

“Please!! Please, i-I’ll do anything!” You begged her.

From the distant, Caleb and Evan could hear your screams. They know what was already happening, that’s why the decided that not interfering was the best option. Nothing could have prepared the people on this realm for what was about to happen. Your hands banging the barrier were suddenly met with grass and dirt. You fall, that was for sure. But you had fallen into the other side of the camp. To everyone’s surprise, there was no barrier separating both camps anymore.

“Did just the barrier…” Caleb asked Evan. “What did just the entity do?”

“Allowing what was not allowed.” Evan sounded happy. The entity’s plan was working.

You didn’t have time to enjoy your new freedom nor did you killer friends. As soon you got up you went straight to Michael. Holding him by his broad shoulders, you reassured him.

“I’m here Michael! I’m here. Please come back to me.” You begged him, this time was different. You noticed his hands still struggling and clenched. You grabbed the hand that was holding the knife to see if you could easy some of that tension. Worried eyes examining his mask to catch any sign that he was okay.

Suddenly his struggling stopped and his head went down. Your hands fly up to grab his masked face only to be met by his free hand around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Dude what are you doing?!” Danny yelled.

“Michael, it-it’s me…” Your air leaving your lungs. His hand dangerously tight around your neck. Threatening to break it right there.

“Judith…” He growled. The entity no longer had him seeing the posters of his stripper mother, his school bullies or his stepfather. Now he was having living flashbacks of his older sister, Judith.

“N-no, Michael please, y-you know me…” It was getting hard for you to speak due to the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t speak.” His hand squeezing harder. “I hate you.” The flashbacks of his selfish sister were really getting to him. It all was so real to him that without noticing he was getting his knife near your belly again.

“Dude-dude, if you killer her she’s not coming back, she’s it coming back Michael!” Danny said trying his best to help you. Michael looked at him for one second or two, then he continued to reach for your belly. In a desperate measure, Danny took off his ghostface mask and grabbed Michael’s hand that was holding his signature kitchen knife.

“Mike, who am i?” Danny asked. Another desperate attempt to make him come back to himself.

“L-loomis.” Michael growled at him.

“No, Michael you know me, come on! Who am i? He asked again.

“D-danny..Danny.” Michael said. You could see the tears in his eyes. He was fighting this.

“Good! Good, now, who is she? You got this you know her.” Danny cheered him up. Michael looked at you, eyebrows frowned.

“J-j…Judidth.”

“No..” You left out a sight. You cried even harder when you noticed Michael raising the knife up.

“Dude stop!!” Danny yelled again, this time ready to do something about it but Kazan had to hold him down.

“Let me go Kazan!”

“You’re only going to make it worst.” He stated, holding Danny down.

“Michael..” You sobbed. You prepared yourself when he got ready to stab you. One final stab, and you were going to see dark…fall to eternal sleep. One last thing scaped your mouth before closing your eyes.

“I love you, Michael Myers…” it was low, you hadn’t much air left. But you didn’t want to leave this world without letting him know this. You glue shut your eyes one last time to embrace his final stab. You even heard Danny screaming “Stop!! Stop it!!!” You were ready now, waiting patiently for your inevitable fate. You flinched your eyes anticipating the blade, but the blade cutted through nothing. You opened your eyes. Somehow you succeeded to get Micheal back. The entity’s plan had worked without you even noticing. He let you fell to the ground so as he did with his knife. Danny and Kazan ran to help you get up. You tried to reach for Michael’s arms but he rejected your touch.

“No…i-i” That was all he could say.

“It’s not your fault Michael.” You assure him. But he just took off leaving the three of you there. He wasn’t the only one afraid to keep touching you it appear. Danny hand left your arm and Kazan took a step back. You gave them a “I’m not following you guys” look.

“It’s just that…this barrier thing, never happened before. We never touched you before, none other than to kill you ir sacrifice you…” Danny spoke for both of them, Kazan and himself.

You reached your hand to Danny’s uncovered face, and cupped it in your warmth. He embrace it immediately. Closing his eyes and smiling.

“You look better with the mask off.” You laughed, he did the same.

“If you say so…”

“Kazan…come here!” You told him with opened arms. He seemed hesitant at first.

“Come…” You insisted, smiling.

“Hug?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. The tenderness in his hug cought you by surprise for such a big and buffed man like him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until Michael was the topic of conversation again. You asked Danny where he might have gone.

“I think I know where..” He said.

The single Street and the kind of trees in the block gave the map away very fast. You were again on Haddonfield.

“I know he sometimes comes here to make mask or whenever he feels bad or angry…I don’t know which house it’s his house tho.” Danny explained.

“Oh don’t worry I know which one is it.” You looked at his still uncovered face.

“Okay, good luck New Girl…if he doesn’t speak right away you should come back later.” He said ready to leave when you said one last thing to him.

“You know Danny…your not that bad after all.” It was the first time he heard you call him by his real name, it always had been “hey ghost!” Or “Ghostie!” It felt good hearing that coming from someone he considered a friend.

“You know y/n…Michael wasn’t wrong after all.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You did made us human after all.” You smiled at his statement then he walks back to the camp.

Once you reach Michael’s house you stepped in. Thinking to yourself he must be upstairs you went up. There was only one room with its door opened. Michael must be in there. You were reaching the end of the stairs, walking as slowly as possible to not give your self away. The house wasn’t helping much tho, with each step you made the wood underneath you cracked. He wasn’t unnoticed to the sound he thought perhaps was the wind since he had the windows open. Your small frame compared to his made a silhouette on his door frame.

Once inside his room you could see he had fully decorated its walls with handmade masks he had done himself. Just like in the movie, but that was on the prison cell instead of his real room. You saw him sat in a chair near a wooden desk. His mask still on, his head was down. His chest moving up and down.

"Michael…" You soft voice soothed his ears. He looked at his left, letting you know he knew you were there. "I'm not here to fight you. Not anymore." You said. Michael didn't react. His breathing sounded soft. Him not having any type of reaction made you move closer to him, until you were besides him. Your left hand resting on his right shoulder. Your eyes wondering the masks hanged on the wall in front of you.

"They are beautiful. You know that?" You told him giving his right shoulder little masages. He looked up to contemplate them. You didn't know how you went from looking masks to have him face to face again and your back pressed yo the wall. By now you were expecting nothing less than a kiss. He grabbed you by both your shoulders and lowered his head until it was pressed against your left collarbone.

This is not a kiss. You thought.

Soft sobs could be heard behind his mask, they were muffled by the same, but you were able to hear them. Then suddenly, he spoke again.

“I’m so…so sorry.” Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t resist but to hold him tight against your little chest compared to his. More muffled sobs coming from Him.

“It’s okay…I’m the one that should be apologizing.” You replied back.

“You already did.” He lift his head to look at you.

You felt the urge to know how he looked behind that mask. What was he hiding. You didn’t have to take out his mask to know he was beautiful. Took your hand move to the edge of it. Michael moved his head back, hesistant.

“Let me see you Mike.” Hearing you calling him Mike was all he needed.

Pulling the mask up with little effort was necessary to take it off. And just as you spectated, he has long blond curly hair, blueish eyes a big, but yet straight nose, and plump heart shaped lips. A beautiful face, just as you thought. You cupped his face with your hands just as you did with Danny.

“You’re beautiful Michael.” Your voice like a sweet whisper. He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them like it was a newly found treasure. His treasure.

The feeling of his chapped lips on yours was inevitable. Tho he seemed to be the first to started it, as soon as he started he wanted to finish, scared you wouldn’t like it. But you insisted to kiss him longer. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that his lips were chapped. Eventually you two separated to get some air.

“You’re beautiful.” You reassured him again. He put his forehead against yours.

“And you’re the most beautiful human I ever seen.” He replied, voice deep and low. “Y/n?” He added.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He finally said it. Finally admitted it and gave it a name.

A little time went by and now you were sitting on his lap seeing how he made masks. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders for support.

“So, I put more glue over here and…we are done.” He was showing you how he made his masks.

“This seems interesting to make.” You replied.

“Are you sure you never done this before?” His mouth forming a little smile. Not fully believing you never done a paper mask before.

“Oh well…you caught me. I did. But a like to see you make them.” You said honestly.

“How cute.” Your heart flinched at his words and your cheeks flushed. “I like it when you flush”

“Stop it Michael!” You gave him a little tug on his coverall.

“Never.” He said looking into your eyes and give your nose a quick kiss.

You spent the rest of the night like this, laughing your lungs out and doing disasters with his glue.

That night loud voices were heard at Haddonfield. The difference this time was that Michael wasn’t alone, he had the best company he could’ve asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry if there’s misspellings, English it’s not my mother language, have mercy please 🥹 I’m open to requests!!

Hi! This might be a very niche but I was wondering if you could do a

Wally x reader, 🍑, consensual soul eating where he either fucks us during it, or it turns into a type of invisible/soul sex

(And if you didn't know: soul eating is where Wally eats with his eyes and feeds off of our emotions/energy, but it's like a kind of a weird sleep paralysis out of body experience for the person he's feeding off of, I've seen people also use the concept for kissing and more)

I'll show you

Wally Darling x Masc!Reader

Word count: 4,221 Reading time: ~16 mins

A/N: I hope this is what you wanted anon! I know it went a little off-request, but I hope you're still satisfied with it! Please let me know if you can!

Upon joining the neighbourhood, you were under the impression that you were the only one that would eat. Being the only human in a village of sentient puppets, the assumption made sense. In fact, the first time you say a puppet eat you were convinced it was some sort of joke set up by Barnaby to get you to embarrass yourself by asking questions. It wasn’t until said humorous puppet ask why you were staring at Sally so weirdly while she was eating that you realised that these puppets actually do eat.

You spent the next few weeks tallying up the number of times you saw each puppet eat. Well, you tried to at least, before you gave up. It became apparent pretty quickly that all of them ate on pretty much the same schedule as you, even if you didn’t see it happen. Sally would often tell you about how strict her diet is as a performer, Poppy offering you things she had baked, and Eddie talking about being a fool for skipping breakfast because he woke up late. Sufficient to say, the puppets ate, just like you did.

What struck you as strange though was that you had never seen Wally eat. Not once. He held food, stared at it, carried it around, yet he never seemed to eat it. Not even when Julie and Frank took the time to put a picnic together. He just held an apple in his hands the entire time, staring at it occasionally, but never eating it.

“It’s strange,” You mumble to yourself, breaking apart a chocolate bar and placing a square in your mouth. Your eyes are fixed on Wally, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Eddie and – once again – holding an apple that you know he isn’t going to eat.

“What’s strange, Kiddo?” Barnaby, one of your closest friends since joining the neighbourhood, asks. He’s standing next to you, doing nothing in particular.

“Hm? Oh, just the fact that I’ve never seen Wally eat. I mean, I’ve seen him holding food plenty of times, but I’ve never seen him eat it.” You don’t take your eyes off the smaller puppet – almost like you’re afraid that if you blink, the apple might disappear and you’ll seem crazy. You nearly spit out your chocolate when Barnaby next speaks.

“Yeah, that’s cuz he doesn’t eat,” he chuckles, placing a massive paw on your head and ruffling your hair, making a mess of it.

You push Barnaby’s hand off your head but don’t let go of it, knowing that he’ll put it straight back if you do. Staring at him in confusion, you wait for him to continue. When, after a few seconds, he stays silent, you know that you’re going to have to ask questions to get answers.

“He doesn’t eat? Like, at all?” You keep Barnaby’s arm in your grasp, looking up at him with a curiosity that needs to be satisfied.

“No, he eats,” Barnaby looks down at you, chuckling at the way you’re looking at him, “Just not like the rest of us, that’s all.”

“Not like the rest of us? What does that mean? How does he eat? Does he need to eat then? What would-“You don’t get to finish your barrage of questions as Barnaby uses his other hand to silence you, placing his massive paw right in your face. In much the same way that a cat would if you got too close.

“Slow down with the questions there, Kiddo!” Barnaby chuckles, holding his paw against your face for a second before removing it.

“I just-“ You’re once again interrupted by a paw to the face.

“Just tell me you’re done.” He slowly removes the paw from your face, as if expecting to have to silence you a third time.

“Ok, ok, I’m done. I’ll stop with the questions.” To say you’re disappointed is an understatement, you’re brimming with questions that you’re absolutely desperate to ask. It seems like Barnaby can tell.

“Why don’t you ask the man himself?” He gestures towards Wally, who’s still obliviously chattering away with Eddie, “You know he likes you, he wouldn’t say no if you asked politely.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s Wally, he’s my best friend, I know him like the back of my paw,” Barnaby holds up his free paw, looking at the back of it proudly for a moment. That moment doesn’t last long, however, as he takes any opportunity he can to crack a joke, “Huh, never noticed that spot before.”

You can’t help but giggle at his antics, finally freeing his other hand as you do. He takes the opportunity to ruffle your hair again, just making more of a mess as you hadn’t had a chance to fix it last time.

“Off you go then.” Barnaby makes a shooing motion, pushing you lightly towards Wally. No plan, no time to come up with one, no help from the comedian, it’s all up to you. You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re supposed to do.

You find yourself stressing slightly as you approach Wally and Eddie. You hope that you can just slip into the conversation, and ask Eddie how his day has been. But you don’t get that chance, because just before you get there, Eddie says goodbye and walks away. Now it’s just you and Wally.

“Oh, hello neighbour,” Wally smiles up at you, his eyes droopy and half-lidded as always. He’s still holding that goddamn apple.

“Oh, uh, hi Wally, you, uh.” You find yourself attempting feebly to stumble your way through a complete sentence. Wally’s eyes don’t leave you for a second. He’s staring straight into your eyes, almost like he’s trying to stare straight into your soul.

“Are you ok neighbour?” He’s looking at you with that cat smile. It’s so relaxed and yet you feel so tense.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” You mumble, reaching up to pick at your arms slightly, flaking off an old scab that you never gave time to heal, “Just wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight? Maybe I can come round yours and we can have dinner?” You can feel his eyes leave you as you ask this question, but the nerves keep a tight grip on your neck and you can’t find it in yourself to look at him to find out why.

“Sounds delightful, neighbour.” The apple is gone. You look down at him when he speaks and the apple is gone. He hasn’t dropped it or stuffed it in his pockets. It’s just gone.

“Right, right… I’ll come round at about… 7?”

“yes, 7,” Wally nods, smiling and waving at you, “I’ll see you later neighbour.”

You wave at him as he walks away, watching him walk over to Julie’s before knocking on the door and waiting for her to let him in. Once he disappears, you turn back to Barnaby, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

“What’s up, kid?” He chuckles, looking at you as you find your place back at his side.

“He… Did you see what he did what that apple?”

“No clue, I was more focused on how awkward you looked,” he chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your hair for a third time. You swat him away before you get a chance.

“Seriously, did you see anything? Anything at all? It can’t have just disappeared!” You sound exacerbated, desperate for answers.

“Maybe he ate it,” Barnaby chuckles, pulling his pipe out and placing it in his mouth.

“I thought you said-“

“You should ask him about it, you’ll have him all to yourself tonight.” He lets out a puff of swirling iridescent smoke. You know that you aren’t going to get any more answers out of him. He’s being belligerent on purpose, something you know that he’s grown to enjoy when talking to you. Said it’s something about how you look funny when you’re frustrated.

Instead of trying – and ultimately failing – to wrangle more information out of Barnaby, you decide to head home. It’s not a long walk, but it gives you time to think. The main question on your mind for the next few hours is how you’re going to bring up the topic of how he eats.

You’re so consumed by the question that you don’t even realise how quickly the time passes. Before you know it, it's 6:30 and getting kinda dark outside. You know if you don’t get ready now, you’ll be late and it’ll be dark by the time you get there.

You choose to put on a nice pair of black trousers and a colourful cardigan – something you think Wally might like. You also gather up some simple snacks, the kind of things you’d want someone to bring to yours if they were going to come over. Once you’re sure that you’ve gathered everything you think you’re going to need, you set out towards Home.

Wally is opening the door before you even knock on it, wearing something much more comfortable than his usual outfit. His hair is down and he’s wearing a light pink robe that he seems to have purposefully pulled off his shoulders.

“Neighbour, you’re early,” He smiles up at you, eyes half-lidded as he holds a hand out, “Come in, please.”

“O-Oh, ok!” You shift the bag you were holding so that you can take his hand, allowing him to pull you into the house. His hand is surprisingly warm in yours, soft against your palm and small enough that you could crush it with ease if you wanted to.

“What would you like to do, neighbour?” He stops and looks up at you once he’s brought you to his living room. The main light has been turned off and replaced by the presence of a lamp. There are already a few different snacks laid out on the coffee table – you notice that he’s got your favourite. You aren’t sure if he got it on purpose or if he just already had it, maybe you can be nosy and ask Howdy when he brought it later on.

“I don’t mind…” You mumble, realising you hadn’t prepared for anything other than asking Wally how he ate.

“Would you like to make something? Maybe we can paint together,” He’s still holding your hand while he speaks, “Or we could just talk?” He’s looking up at you with something in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Talking sounds nice.” You smile, sitting uncomfortably on his sofa. The sofa itself is quite comfortable, but you perch yourself on the edge.

Wally doesn’t say anything, instead just coming to sit next to you. He presses himself against you, his head resting on your shoulder to the best of his ability.

“Wally, can I ask you a question?” It feels far too serious to say that, but you also feel like you might implode if you just outright ask the question that’s been on your mind for so long.

“Of course, neighbour.” He slimes up at you, moving to intertwine his hand with yours.

“I’ve noticed that you uh… I don’t… I haven’t…” You look down at his hand, and the way it holds yours, fits so perfectly has you struggling to speak, “ You… How do you eat?” Eventually, you manage to just spit it out and ask him. He doesn’t react like you would expect him to. You expected him to look up at you with that lazy, half-lidded gaze that he always had. Instead, he jumps in his seat slightly and continues to stare straight forwards.

“Well, neighbour, it’s hard to explain,” He chuckles lightly, finally moving to look up at you. His pupils are restricted, small and not looking into your own but rather focusing on your lips, “ It would be easier to show you.”

“Show me then.” You know you sound way too excited, it's probably a little off-putting.

“You have to promise not to… React badly, neighbour,” He mumbles, letting go of your hand and shuffling away from you.

“I promise.” You have to force your voice out, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you.

“Stay still.” Wally stands up, moving until he’s in front of you and can rest his hands on your thighs, just above your knees.

“O… Ok?” The excitement subsides, confusion taking its place. His hands move slightly, shifting up to rest about midway up your thighs.

Before you get a chance to ask a question, Wally is climbing into your lap and situating himself until he’s pressed as close to you as he can get. You try and ignore the way that he’s sitting directly over your crotch, or how his hands are now resting on your chest.

“Open your eyes for me,” His hands come up to cup your face, holding your head still with a surprising amount of strength, “Don’t move.”

“Wally I don’t understand why this is necessary-“

“I’m going to show you how I eat, stay still and open your eyes.” His fingers dig into your cheeks, almost painfully holding you in place. You just close your mouth and nod as best you can, deciding that you don’t want to face whatever emotion Wally was just feeling.

His pupils blow wide, almost completely consuming his eyes. You can barely see the whites of his eyes in just the corners. It’s almost scary as he stares into your own.

Suddenly, something starts to envelop your mind. A fogginess that you can’t seem to shake off no matter how much you try. Wally continues to stare into your eyes, his own almost completely black and entirely unmoving. The fog begins to numb your limps, starting in your lower legs and tingling as it leaks into your thighs. Pins and needles seep into your fingertips, crawling up your arms in a warm sensation that leaves you unable to feel anything. You try to speak, but you can’t even open your mouth. Your lips are sealed shut, leaving you unable to do anything but let out a soft whimper.

“Don’t worry,” Wally speaks, hands moving to rest on your shoulders. You don’t move your head – you can’t move your head. “This is supposed to happen.”

You try and open your mouth again, attempting to ask him what this is. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you can’t get your jaw to move. The only thing you can do is whimper pathetically, unsure of what he wants from you.

Soon enough, you realise that you can’t move your eyes either. Unlike when you experience sleep paralysis, you can’t move your eyes at all. The only thing you can focus on is Wally’s charcoal eyes, blown so wide that you feel like you’re going to fall in.

“Just relax, you wanted to see how I eat, didn’t you?” Wally shifts forwards slightly, pressing himself further against you, managing to lightly grind himself on you, “ If you want me to stop, all you have to do is close your eyes.”

With those words, you realise you can move your eyelids. While your vision is focused on those deep pools of black in front of you, your eyelids begin to twitch and flicker. You don’t feel the need to blink, your eyes aren’t dry or irritated. And, despite the fear of being unable to move… You can feel something in your mind telling you to let this continue.

“Good… Please relax neighbour, I promise this won’t hurt.” You can barely see that he’s smiling as he speaks. His hands move to run over your chest, splaying his hands out over the top of your shirt, wrinkling the material slightly and causing it to lift slightly and show your lower stomach.

A sense of pleasure starts to take over, the pins and needles like tingling becoming a warm, dripping sensation. It starts in your fingertips, slowly trickling upwards, moving like honey in thick, sticky rivulets. The feeling leaks into your chest, pooling warmth right above your heart that’s spread further and further with every beat, being spread through your veins. Soon enough, your entire body is enveloped with the tingling euphoria.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, neighbour,” Wally mumbles, his usual, sleepy voice breaking you out of your focus, “You always were smart…”

You whimper in response to his statement. You hadn’t figured it out, you hadn’t figured anything out. All you know is that you feel amazing and that you can feel Wally’s ass pressing against your slowly hardening cock.

“You haven’t?” He seems surprised to ask this question, almost as if he really did think you understand what’s going on, “Should I explain then, neighbour?”

You let out another soft whimper, no longer caring about what’s happening. You’re losing yourself to the sensations, to the way his soft body feels pressed against yours.

“I eat with my eyes,” He starts, still staring deeply into your own, “But I can’t just eat food, it’s not enough… I need something more substantial, something bigger… Which is where you come in. I just need to take a little from you, some energy, I guess you could say.”

There’s nothing you can do as Wally continues to stare into your eyes, still smiling slightly, eyes still blown so incredibly wide. You wouldn’t stop him even if you could. You have plenty of energy to share if he was telling the truth about that. It doesn’t matter really, the feeling of warmth throughout your body and your slowly growing erection made you desperate for more.

“It seems you’re enjoying this neighbour… Maybe I should give you a little something in return.” Wally seems to be thinking out loud, wondering about what he should do for you.

It doesn’t take a second for him to begin slowly rocking his hips. His ass is pressed against your cock, slowly grinding into it, causing your erection to grow more and more with each passing second. The way he rocks his hips causes you to groan, eyelids flickering slightly but never once blocking Wally’s view of your eyes.

The puppet's hands trail downwards, eventually reaching your lower stomach. Slowly, he inches one hand under your shirt, touching your skin in soft, barely-there circles that cause your muscles to twitch involuntarily. He pauses his movements when he feels your muscles quiver under his fingers, seemingly cherishing the movements before continuing his ministrations. Wally manages to get your muscles to tremble again, many times.

The hand that isn’t under your shirt moves down to your belt buckle, undoing it with practised ease and quickly pulling it from your belt loops. Wally tosses it over his shoulder, letting it clatter to the floor somewhere behind him that you can’t see. His eyes never leave yours, not once.

Next thing you know, the puppet is popping your trouser button open with one hand, unzipping the zip as well. You groan again, only this time it’s out of disappointment, as Wally has shifted backwards and off you’re your painfully hard cock so he can shuffle your trousers down. The fabric bunches up around your mid-thighs, giving Wally space to sit on your crotch again, now only with your boxers in the way.

You want to buck your hips upwards, thrust yourself into his small body, and maybe even get the chance to hold him down and fuck him. But you still can’t move, so everything is left up to Wally. He knows this. You know he knows you know.

He removes his hand from underneath your shirt, shifting his small body backwards to leave your thinly veiled cock exposed to him again. He places one of his hands over you, palming you softly through your boxers, applying just enough pressure to make you feel something so delicious that you want more. It’s not long before he’s pulling your boxers down, freeing your cock and allowing it to spring up and hit the stomach of your shirt. It leaves a small, dark patch where you’re already leaking precum.

Wally begins to focus on undoing his trousers now, popping the button and somehow managing to pull them off within seconds – all without breaking eye contact. He gets his boxers off as well, throwing them somewhere behind him, probably letting them join your previously discarded belt.

Despite being unable to move your body yourself, your lips part seamlessly when two of Wally's fingers press against them. It allows him to slide the digits inside your mouth, pressing the pads of his fingers into your tongue. You can feel you're saliva coating his fingers, making them slick. You want to curl your tongue up and against him, wrap it around the fingers in your mouth, allowing you to suck on them lightly.

Slowly, Wally pulls his fingers from your mouth. Thin strands of your saliva connect your lips to his fingers, glistening in the light and drawing your attention for just a moment - even if you can only see them in your peripherals.

You aren't entirely sure what he's going to do with his now slick fingers until he reaches backwards. Wally's hands slip behind him, begging to slowly tease and dip into his tight hole. You can just about feel the way his hips shudder as he begins to finger himself, slipping both of his now-slicked fingers into his ass. 

Your cock twitches as he lets out a soft moan, hips bucking backwards a little. He's fucking himself on his fingers, thighs starting to tremble slightly as he continues. The way he moves makes you want nothing more than to have him, the feeling is a burning lust in your chest that drives you mad.

Eventually, Wally stops pleasuring himself and pulls his fingers out, moving his previously busy hand round to his front. You think he's going to touch you, until he begins to stroke his cock in long, languid movements. The fact that he isn't touching you is driving you crazy, your cock is aching and you're desperate for his touch, but he won't give it to you.

Until, that is, Wally shifts slightly forwards. He uses the hand that isn't stroking his cock to lightly grip yours, lining it up with his tight hole. You can feel your leaking cock press against him, meeting a small amount of resistance as he begins to lower himself down onto you. You can feel yourself sliding in slowly, your saliva making it easy for him to push himself down.

Wally bounces gently as he pushes himself down further, pulling up slightly to be able to slip more of you inside of him. After a few soft, subtle bounces, he reaches your base, leaving you fully hilted inside him.

The combination of the thick, honey-like pleasure and the tightness of Wally's tight hole around your cock has your mind beginning to fog. You know you aren't going to last long, not like this. Especially as the head of your cock presses into his soft, gummy walls. Wally's surprisingly warm body squeezes around you, tightening more than you thought it could. 

Slowly, he begins to rock his hips again. The soft rocking progresses into a bouncing motion, causing Wally's soft inner to glide along your cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

The pleasure starts to overwhelm you. Everything that's happening is getting too much, the thick, tingling pleasure, the rolling waves of euphoria, it's pushing you towards climax. You're desperate to orgasm, to finish and fill the small puppet sitting in front of you.

Soon, the growing, building pleasure becomes too much. Your orgasm comes crashing over you, muscles twitching, your mind flooding with pleasure. You can feel yourself cum, waves of complete euphoria rolling over you as you.

Wally doesn't stop bouncing as you reach your peak, seeking his finish. The sensation of his soft walls becomes too much, overstimulating your now sensitive cock. You can feel your eyes tearing up, although you don't dare to blink. He clamps around you, body stilling and thighs trembling as he orgasms. Hot, sticky ropes of cum shoot out and ruin not only your shirt but also his cardigan.

A few seconds pass, Wally practically panting, before he finally breaks eye contact. Immediately you feel as if there is nothing left of you. Your eyes are sore and your body is tired from what just occurred - but your mind is also foggy.

Wally doesn't bother speaking or even getting up, instead just leaning forwards and cuddling into you. His head nuzzles into your neck, cock still hilted inside of him. You don't want to move either, still enjoying the feeling of him. So instead, you opt to wrap your arms around the puppet and hold him close, almost immediately falling asleep.

Dreamscape ( i )

John Constantine x Fem!Reader

"It was hard to believe this wasn't a dream- this wasn't something your brain created to meet your soul's other half. It was real..."

A soulmate AU where you share dreams with the warlock known as John Constantine throughout both of your lives.

Have this posted on my AO3 account, and I felt like posting on here too- with a few minor changes

Warnings for this chapter-- Mentions of John's childhood ab*se, but it's not heavy- small descriptions and talks of it.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains, coming close to hitting your face as you slowly opened your eyes. You could feel his arms wrapped around her, pressing your back against his chest. It wasn't a tight hold, but if you moved it would surely wake the man snuggling up against you.

Not that you wanted to.

You wanted him to enjoy a peaceful sleep for a change. Besides, it was early...

Wasn't it?

You needed a clock. Clock, where are you?

You looked around the motel room, your eyes lighting up with joy upon spotting your phone on the nightstand next to your side of the bed. Thank goodness your dominant hand wasn't trapped at the moment. Which meant you just might be able to get the device without waking him up! Slowly and carefully, you reached over to grab your phone.

Your fingertips barely grazed the cool metal.

Much to your frustration.

"Damn it." You swore under your breath as you struggled to reach it. Why couldn't your arms be just a bit longer? Or better yet, why couldn't your phone be a bit closer? Eventually, your fingers got a better grip on the device, a mental cheer going off in your mind.

You did it! Now to check the time-

A startled noise left you when he felt him nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His stubble once again tickling your exposed neck. You got such a surprise your grip loosened on your phone- said object making a quiet thud as it hit carpet. A shaky breath left you as he placed one or two lazy kisses along your neck, your face warming from such actions.

Funny at that. A grown woman you are, yet this man can still make your heart do funny dances while blushes race across your face and down your neck.

"Something wrong luv?"

"Hmm? Oh no, it just startled me." You confessed, adjusting yourself so you could see him. Your soulmate. You were still getting used to the fact.

There was a gentle expression on his face as he stared at you. His eyes no longer holding in that frustration and sadness you had come to know. There was a light to them now, a light that made your soul sing. "You okay?" You still couldn't help but ask, which earning a sleepy chuckle from the blonde male. "I'm alright." He assured you, kissing your forehead as he hugged you close. "Didn't mean to wake you earlier." You murmured, humming in content as he rubbed little circles on the small of your back. "You didn't." The male muttered lazily.

You hummed under your breath, it was so easy to doze off. It was safe, you knew you were safe with your soulmate. Even so...

"You feel like getting up?"

A giggle threatened to leave you as he let out a tired grumble. You took that as a no. "It's Saturday." The blonde argued. "I'm pretty sure it's Sunday." You countered. It only earned a chuckle from him. "All the more reason to stay in bed." He replied, giving your forehead another kiss. He may say otherwise, but you had a feeling he was wide awake now.

It was hard to believe this wasn't a dream- this wasn't something your brain created to meet your soul's other half. It was real... as real as you and John Constantine lived and breathed. Closing your eyes as you leaned against him, your mind drifted off. Off to the first time you met him.

Everyone had a soulmate, one could meet through the dreamscape. Both you and your soulmate were able to talk and touch within the realm of dreaming. The world created around you was all based on things you dreamt of. Sometimes they were good. Sometimes they were stuff of nightmares.

Part of the reason why having your soulmate in the dreamscape was so important. They helped pull you from the bad things.

You didn't realize how bad things were for John when you first met though.

The shared dreaming didn't start until the soulmates turned thirteen- around that time, you didn't have a lot of friends. Yes you were on friendly terms with some of the girls in your class, but you liked vastly things from them. And while they weren't cruel... there was a good distance between you and them. Half the boys in your grade at the time weren't bad. Although the other half did things that just made your blood boil with their actions.

So on the day of your thirteenth birthday, you couldn't wait to go to bed. You just knew you and your soulmate would have everything in common. Or at least liked a few of the same things.

That was how it worked, right...?

Your parents had similar taste in music, and they liked watching those old films on Friday night. Slipping under the covers of your bed that night, you soon closed your eyes... and you were off.

And it was just as amazing as you thought it would be.

Your eyes widened as you took in the scene around you. It was an exact replica of the outdoor world from your favorite show at the time. "Hello? Hello!" You frowned upon not hearing a response. After a few moments, you headed off down a pathway. Suddenly you came upon a grove of willow trees, and the sound of crying.

Crying...?

"I'm coming!" You swallowed hard as you quickened your footsteps, slowing down when you spotted the source.

The boy sitting underneath a willow tree wore pajamas that didn't match. His blonde hair was a mess, but that wasn't your main concern. Your eyes were fixated on the cigarette burn mark on his upper shoulder. And the bruises on his forearms. ".. are you okay?" You were too scared to step closer, would he even let you? You never saw a boy his age cry before... it left an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"Go away..." His voice was weak, but you could hear the accent nonetheless.

"Just go away." He repeated, his voice a touch more firm than before.

"No-" You froze in place at the sharp glare he went you, his eyes red from crying. "I... I won't go until I know you're okay." You stated, trying to keep your voice steady as you eventually sat down. Not too close though, but just enough to make it known you weren't running off anytime soon.

He glared at you before turning away. A sharp feeling of hurt tugged at your heart, which you quickly squashed down. Something awful happened to him... he was in pain. So much pain... how could you make it go away? Pressing your lips into a thin line, your shoulders sagged as you sighed softly. You told him your name, soon talking about your likes and dislikes. Secretly hoping it helped get his mind off whatever was wrong.

"Am I talking too fast?" You eventually asked when you took notice of him again. His body slightly turned to your direction.

He didn't look you in the eye though, seemingly more interested in the fresh green grass. "... mom keeps telling me I talk too fast." You continued on when he didn't answer. Much to your dismay. It faded quickly though when the blonde soon spoke up.

"... John. My name's John." He soon told you, your eyes wide from surprise before a small smile grew. You liked the name. It reminded you of the Saint, and a famous actor your parents enjoyed seeing. "... you still have a mum?" John soon asked. Your happy feeling soon turning into something more cold... and shocked.

Did... did he loose his mom?

"... I do." You answered softly, biting your lip in worry as you weighed the question. "... what happened to your mom?" You eventually asked. John snatched up fistfuls of grass, angrily tossing them away. "She died. Dad says it was my fault."

Horror gripped at you. "But you're a kid!" You exclaimed. How could someone hurt their own mother? "She died giving birth to me." He soon explained. Your nerves calmed down... somewhat. "... you were a baby, you didn't want it to happen." You whispered, sad, sad that this was thrown at John. And angry. Angry that his father saw fit to blame him for something beyond his control. You scooted a bit closer to him, frowning in worry as he continued ripping up bits of grass.

"I hate him..." He growled out.

"Don't say that-"

"It's true! Ever since my sister left he..." John trailed off as more tears threatened to spill. His eyes growing wide when you gently hugged. It last a few seconds, before you pulled away. "I'm sorry... it's just... you looked like you needed it." You admitted. Getting a hug from your mom or dad always made you feel better. You thought it might work for John. The other teen seemed hesitant for a few moments, before he inched closer to you. And while you didn't hug him again, you were more than happy to simply sit beside him.

"..I like magic." You heard John admit after several minutes passed by. "Really?" You asked in a bit of awe. Most of the boys in your class enjoyed sports or superheroes. None of them expressed an interest in magic.

"Can... you tell me more?" You asked again, a smile appearing on your as John started explaining the magic he was always looking up in his spare time. Suffice to say, it wasn't the magic you had in mind. It sounded spooky and scary... but magic itself wasn't bad- it was bad when bad people used it. Like the villains in your current favorite shows and movies- the good guys used magic too to fight back. Well maybe not all of the good guys, but a good many of them.

John seemed a lot better too, his eyes were still red from crying of course. But the sadness from earlier seemed to be disappearing a little. "I'm going to use my magic to talk to mum." He explained. You... weren't quite sure how that could work. His mother was dead.

But magic could be very powerful- he could find a way. Surely he could! "I bet she will be very happy to hear from you." You soon replied, a startled noise leaving you when you saw the world around the two of you start to fade. "No- no wait!"

You snapped out of your past when you heard John call your name. "Knew you didn't want to get up, you were nodding off there." You flushed at the teasing tone and smirk John sent you. "I wasn't nodding off." You countered, grumbling faintly as he chuckled.

"Sure you weren't." John countered playfully. Your grumbling continued as you reluctantly slipped out of his embrace, earning a groan from him. "Come on luv." He hid under the comforter when you tossed him his clothes. "It's only...." You trailed off as you picked up your phone.

"9:37 AM." You answered, going about the room to pick up your clothes from last night. Setting them aside, you went through your bag to pull out a t-shirt in your favorite color along with some jeans.

"Too early." You heard John call out, earning a faint giggle from you. "I'll be in the shower if you need me- to talk." You were quick to throw in at the last minute. Not missing the way John pulled himself out from hiding. He sent you a smirk that was anything but innocent.

"And if I wanted to talk to you in the shower?" He asked.

You responded in kind. A glare that held no real bite to it as you entered the bathroom, promptly closing the door behind you.

deep | iwaizumi hajime x gn! reader

super short, not a request but a thing i wrote in 20 minutes as a bet with my friend :3

warnings: gn! reader, oral sex, blowjobs, face fucking

Iwaizumi Hajime never considered himself to be anything other than responsible, composed and in control. But right now, in this moment, he felt anything but. Back on the sheets, with sweat rolling down his naked chest, all of his restraint is taken from him. He can barely even open his eyes due to the intense pleasure that's emanating from their mouth. 

It’s been fifteen minutes. 

Fifteen minutes since Hajime came home from work, exhausted and angry. Thirteen minutes since he saw his fiance in the living room in nothing but a tiny pair of shorts and his old volleyball jersey. Ten minutes since he walked over to them and planted a long, lustful kiss on their lips. Eight minutes since the two of them laid down on their shared bed.

It’s been six minutes since they put his dick in their mouth. 

They started immediately, forgoing the usual, teasing licks and coy smiles. With barely a glance toward Hajime’s face, they popped the head into their mouth and immediately began to suckle on it, tracing the underside with their tongue expertly. They know his body like the back of their own hand. The way that his abdominal muscles ripple, the way his thighs tense, how his cock kicks up in their mouth, and especially how his eyes roll back and close with pleasure

They tap his thigh to get him to look at them, Hajime obliges. Without a substantial warning, they look him in the eyes and press themself, down, down, deeper, until his entire cock is nestled in their warm throat. His moan gets caught in his throat.

“Fuuuck.”

He can barely think at this point. Colourful rainbows of stars dance behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes closed once more. Hajime pries them open once more in order to look down on his partner. They look back up at him, lashes fluttering and eyes lust-filled and glazed over. 

“So good for me, so good, baby,” he groans out. Reaching out, he threads his hand in his lover’s hair and yanks at it, which forces them to gag even deeper on his cock. Hajime presses them down onto his dick and shifts his body to sit up against the headboard, bringing them with him. 

The shifts of his body caused his cock to piston into their mouth, the mushroomed head poking at the back of their throat. Tears well up in their eyes and roll down their cheeks and puffy, swollen lips, slicking up Hajime’s dick even more. 

Hajime moves his hand from their hair to their face and uses his thumb to wipe at the spit gathering on their chin. 

“You look so pretty sucking my cock,” he coos. With a shift of his hips, Hajime pushes his dick down their throat. Their eyes open in shock as more tears spill out. 

“Gggn!!” Was all they managed to get out before Hajime began to thrust his hips up more aggressively, setting a rhythm that was sure to leave them with a sore throat the next morning. 

All they can do is choke around the cock in their mouth and look up at Hajime with pretty, pleading eyes. Soon enough, the prof volleyball player forgets any kind of self restraint and grabs their hair, forcing them down as he fucks up into their mouth.

Spit and pre-cum fall out the corner of their mouth, smearing across Hajime’s pelvis. At this point, they can do nothing but allow his dick to slide in and out. They can do nothing but take it. 

“Fuck, baby. I’m so close,” he groans out, nails starting to scrape against his pretty partner’s scalp. His hips begin to lose their rhythm as they fuck up deep and frantically. 

“God, you’re doing so good for me. Just a little more, please,” he whines out, eyes closed. They oblige, giving him a quick swipe of their tongue on the underside of his cock .That was the final piece, as Hajime immediately comes undone with a cry. 

Hot ropes of cum spurt out of his dick and shoot straight down their throat, tasting musky, warm, and exactly like Hajime. He keeps them down on his dick until it’s completely soft.

As he pulls out, they leave him with one final lick against the shaft and he jolts with a groan.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby,” he groans out before pulling them up into a hot kiss.

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

previous | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

The first time you met Joel, he stank like shit. Literally, he smelled like he had rolled in it. You issued him soap, and sent him on his way. That was a loss to Jackson’s ledgers you were more than willing to take.

The second time, he smelled better. Unremarkable mostly, more of a neutral scent tinged with man smell around the edges. Nothing to write home about. Still, you issued him deodorant. Couldn’t take any chances.

He requested bullets, a basic first aid kit, and warm clothing. With Maria’s approval, you made the relevant deductions and issued the items at hand. You even sprung for wool socks. With a winter like this, he could use all the help he could get.

“You’re headed south, right?” you asked him as he packed a worn duffel bag.

“Colorado,” he replied. You waited, but that’s all he gave you. Guess he didn’t feel like elaborating.

“What about the girl, she need anything?”

He considered the offer, then asked, “You got any pens, pencils or anything? Notebooks? She likes to keep track of things, take notes. Draw, mostly,” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face, “And we’re almost out of paper.”

You smiled at that. A girl after your own heart . “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

* * *

You asked Tommy about him, once the two of them were gone. He didn’t have much to say.

“Barely talked to the girl. Probably know about as much about her as you do. Joel… Well, Joel’s an enigma.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Come on, Tommy. I’m asking for the basics, not his social security number.”

Tommy sighed. “He’s brash, he’s protective, he’s opinionated… I don’t know what much else to tell you. He’s just Joel. One of those people you gotta get to know just by knowing ‘em, I guess.”

You blinked twice. “Supremely helpful, Tommy.”

* * *

The next time you met Joel, he smelled better but looked worse. You only half-remembered his eyes, but something in them last time had been warmer. The ones you saw now were… dead, almost. Like something within them had been destroyed. Whether he’d been the one to do the destroying or it had been done to him remained to be seen.

You’d seen him and the girl with Tommy and Maria in the dining hall that first time they’d come to town, wolfing down chili like they’d just discovered, well, chili. They ate slower now, both of them, not like they weren’t in a rush but like their heads were elsewhere. The girl seemed to stare into nowhere—not all the time, but it was distinct when she did it.

Joel didn’t zone out. No, if anything he was zoned in . On that poor girl who had been so full of life just months ago, now hollowed out like far too many others. You’d see about filling her back up later. But for now, he was the one that perplexed you. Why was he so focused on her? What had happened out there? Part of you never wanted to find out, but part of you really, really did.

Regardless, she needed new shoes. So you joined them. The man stopped mid-chew, looking up at you with trepidation.

“Hi,” you smiled, “glad you two made it back in one piece.”

“Me too,” he replied, turning his attention back to his cud. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You turned your attention to the girl.

“You’re Ellie, right? I’m Doe. Or that’s what most folks around here call me, anyway.”

“Doe?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Like a deer?”

“A female deer,” you winked back at her. She stared at you blankly. 

“It’s a song,” Joel muttered to her softly, “from before.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. The silence dragged, but thankfully you came prepared.

“Cobbler?” you offered bowls to each of them. It was fresh from the oven, still steaming and smelling of cinnamon.

“Yes, please!” Ellie yanked the bigger bowl towards herself, broccoli forgotten. She got a few bites in before Joel intervened, pulling the sugar aside and reinstating the vegetables. The girl frowned at that, but his pointed look said not to bother arguing. So she didn’t.

“Don’t worry, it’ll still be hot in a minute.” You tucked into your own cobbler, savoring the warm sweetness as it glided across your tongue. Even in Jackson, it was a delicacy. But it was spring, and the cherries were here. And you’d accounted for everything.

“Did you want something?” Joel asked, finishing his own plate and reaching for the cobbler.

“Ellie needs new shoes.”

“We’ve got it handled,” he said.

“Do you, though? You haven’t got much to trade with, and we’ve got plenty in inventory. That’s kind of what it’s there for. Why suffer blisters when communism’s got your back?”

“Can I?” Ellie’s face lit up. You liked seeing her eyes like that: brighter. They belonged that way.

Joel swallowed his cobbler, mulling over the idea. “After lunch,” he agreed, nodding to the eager teen. “Finish your cobbler first.”

* * *

Ellie’s new light-up sneakers lit the way as you exited the storeroom through your office. Joel had insisted on a sensible pair as well, but you couldn’t deny the kid a little whimsy.

“Maria give you your patrol schedule yet?” you asked him, nodding to the well-worn chalkboard in the corner. Routes on the left, days and times up top. Names filled in the boxes in between, a testament to your logistical wizardry.

“Not yet,” he said, crossing to examine it. “Guess she doesn’t need to, now.”

“I’ve got you paired up with Tommy. Seemed easiest, to get you started. You’ll be headed up to the lodge, it’s a pretty standard route. Get the occasional runner, but it’s wildlife more than anything.”

He nodded, heading toward where Ellie was already scampering out the door.

“See you Tuesday, I suppose. Guessing you’re the one to check-in with?” he asked.

You smiled at his correct assumption. 

“Sure am.”

* * *

You didn’t know Joel well enough to make assumptions about his punctuality, but Tommy was never late. Even you were late from time to time, often getting swept up in tasks and losing track of things. But the man was annoyingly punctual. According to Maria, that’s part of why she fell for him.

Tommy was late today.

You crossed to the large observation window lining one wall of your office. It gave you a clear view of the front gates and surrounding guard stations, but there was no sign of Tommy anywhere. Or Joel, for that matter.

A knock on your door interrupted your analysis. It was Eugene. The grizzled old man acted anything but, a smile breaking out across his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, Doe! How’s things?” He asked.

“Fine. I’m looking for Tommy, actually–”

“Didn’t you hear?” He interrupted, “Maria’s gone into labor. He’s with her at the clinic.”

Your stomach dropped. Here you were preparing to chew Tommy out for his tardiness when the whole time he’d been busy becoming a father. A very valid excuse.

“And Joel?” you asked. “They were supposed to patrol together this afternoon, lodge route.”

“Not sure. He wasn’t with them. Listen, I gotta go grab the baby blanket I made and drop it off, but you and I need to have a drink one of these days. I worry your hair’s gonna start falling out in clumps if you don’t take a break eventually.”

“Yeah, but then what would you do, patrol out to the dam with Jesse? There’s a reason I don’t pair you two up anymore.”

“Because you don’t like blackberries?” he chided.

You frowned, “No, because you spent so long harvesting them your 8 hour patrol took 12. I was this close to sending out a search party. A little planning prevents a lot of headaches, Eugene.”

He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder to get the last word. “You know what else is good for headaches? Whiskey.”

You sent Eugene on his way with instructions to give Maria your best. You’d visit her when the baby was here. For now, you had a community to protect. 

With Tommy out of commission and Joel MIA, you’d have to find someone else to help you cover this patrol route. Dina was always a solid partner, if she was around. Devon the bartender could generally be counted on to have your back. Eugene would be ideal, but you didn’t want to make him work a double.

You headed to the stables to see who you could find. Upon entering, the warmth of the building and company of the animals soothed your unease, if only slightly. 

You found your horse’s stall, the gray spotted mare whinnying at your arrival.

“Hey, Bailey,” you smiled, offering her a slightly bruised apple. She took it gratefully, big brown eyes closing in enjoyment.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice said from behind you, making you jump.

“Sorry,” the voice stepped into the light, “It’s just me.”

“Joel,” you took a deep breath in an attempt to slow your racing heartbeat.

“Sorry I’m late–” 

You cut him off with a raised hand, looking him in the eye. 

“You’re not with your brother,” you finally said, more of a statement than a question.

“You’re not with your best friend,” he replied, offering no further details.

You sighed, debating arguing with him about it before deciding the subject was better left untouched. You had your reasons for staying away from childbirth. If Joel had his own, he was entitled to that. You weren’t going to press him on it, so long as he didn’t press you.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your leg over Bailey’s back and settling into the saddle, “We’re making up for lost time.”

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 2 - Patrol

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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.0k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

chapter summary: A detour finds you and Joel lost in the woods and in need of shelter for the night.

Chapter 2 - Patrol

It was foggy today. Cold and foggy. You resented the low visibility, but Joel didn’t seem to mind. He followed behind you on Chestnut, an older mare named for her lovely, dark coat. While you focused on the trail, he watched the trees. Even if infected were rare out here, he wasn’t about to be caught off guard.

You made it about four miles before dust began to mix with the fog, making you cough until you pulled your shirt over your mouth and nose to block out the debris.

“Rockslide,” you called back to Joel, the sound of pebbles still clattering to the ground confirming your assessment. “We need to find an alternate route. I usually send patrols up this way three times a week, but no one’s come up this way since last Thursday. It’s overdue for a checkup.”

Joel was unfazed. “The river narrows to a stream about a mile back. We can cross over, loop around.”

You nodded, “Lead the way, Miller.”

Letting Joel lead was a mistake. Between the detour and the fog, you were hopelessly, utterly lost.

“If we die out here, I’m gonna kill you,” you told him, your annoyance beginning to slip towards downright anger.

“We’re not gonna die out here, Doe. Calm down.”

“We need to find high ground—figure out where we are, get above all this fog,” you said.

Luckily, you were headed uphill. But uphill didn’t last. Just as the fog began to thin, you reached a lake. Beside it stood a cabin, one you hadn’t seen on your patrols before.

The siding had once been painted a bright, cheery yellow, but time and the elements had stripped away much of the color. There were no signs of life, no broken windows. It had probably been abandoned long before the outbreak. Either that, or occupied by people who knew how to keep a low profile.

You eyed Joel, and with a sharp nod, he dismounted. You tied the horses just inside the treeline and approached, slowly and quietly climbing the stairs to the enclosed porch.

You squatted down to pull out your lock pick, but before you could even retrieve it, Joel was winding up to kick the door down. You stopped him with a gentle hand on his thigh. He looked down at you, eyes wide, and you answered his unspoken question by raising your lock pick. 

You made quick work of the lock, standing to push the door open. You motioned for Joel to head inside, but he opted to hold the door for you instead. “After you, ma’am.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes at that, but honestly, you kind of liked it. You led the way, clicking on your flashlight to investigate.

It wasn’t untouched, like you had initially suspected. There were signs of past occupants between the outbreak and now, but whoever it was hadn’t stayed long. The cabinets were still mostly stocked, though none of the cans were of your preferred variety. The curtains were drawn and dusty, having been left that way for some time. You opened them, letting in a dull beam of late-afternoon light. It glinted off liquor bottles strewn across the carpet by the couch.

“Looks like somebody hunkered down here for a bender,” Joel said, toeing a half-empty bottle with his boot.

“You got all that from liquor bottles and a carpet covered in dried vomit? Very observant, Miller,” you teased, taking a seat on an old barstool.

“I’m surprised they didn’t start breaking shit.”

“Not every drunk’s a violent one, Joel. Some of them just get sad. Or horny.”

“Or both.”

You huffed at that. He wasn’t wrong. You were stretching your neck when Joel made the call.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “We should settle in here for the night.”

“That’s not–” you started, before realizing he was probably right. If you kept going, you’d likely end up going in circles, just getting more lost than you already were. And even with all the floor vomit, that couch looked comfy. “Fine,” you sighed. “Get a fire going, figure out some food. I’m gonna head up to the roof, see if I can get a radio signal.”

Joel nodded, setting his pack down by the fireplace. You climbed the ladder up to the small loft space, looking for roof access. There was a small skylight, and with luck, it pushed open.

You crawled out onto the roof, leaning back against a weathered gable. You could just barely get a signal on your long-range radio.

“Doe to base camp, come in,” you spoke into the mouthpiece.

“Copy, Doe. This is Mike at the main gate. Over,” a voice crackled through the speaker.

“Joel and I hit a rockslide along the Mountain View lodge trail earlier. We took a detour and got lost in all the fog. We’re at a cabin near some lake up here. Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for the night. Over.”

“But you’re alright otherwise? No injuries or anything? Over.”

“Fine, Mike. We’re fine. Should probably get a group out this way soon, though. The place is well-stocked, practically untouched. We’ll probably be back sometime tomorrow afternoon, assuming this fog clears and we can get our bearings. Over.”

“Copy that, Doe. All good over here.”

“Copy. Over and out.”

“Over and out.”

You scrubbed a hand over your face, your bones heavy with exhaustion. It had been a very long day.

“Soup’s on!” Joel called up from the living room.

“Be right there!”

You gathered your things, starting your haphazard slide back toward the skylight when a thought hit you.

“Hey, Mike?” you asked into the radio.

“Yeah?”

“How’s Maria?” 

You waited anxiously for his reply. Childbirth had never been without its risks, but in the apocalypse, it was easy for things to go wrong.

“She’s good,” Mike said, “Delivery went smoothly.”

Good, you thought, letting out a sigh of relief. That’s good.

The radio crackled back on, and Mike added one last detail to his report.

“It’s a girl.”

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 3 - The Cabin

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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, violence towards children, nightmares

Chapter 3 - The Cabin

By the time you descended the ladder, Joel had everything set up. A clean, if dusty and threadbare, blanket was spread before the fireplace. He’d managed to get the fire going, and while it hadn’t reached a roar, it was plenty hot enough to heat some cans for dinner.

“What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, gesturing between two cans with a pilfered can opener. “I’ve got alphabet soup or beefy ravioli.”

“Ravioli, please,” you said decisively, taking a seat beside him on the blanket. It took a second of him staring at you expectantly for you to realize he was holding out your selection. You took it and dug in.

“Holy shit,” you nearly moaned, the zing of 20-year-old marinara a delight to tired taste buds.

“That good, huh?” Joel asked. 

You nodded–yeah, it was really that good.

“Maybe Ellie’s onto something,” he chuckled, digging into his own dinner. You cocked an eyebrow. He elaborated, “She’s big on Chef Boyardee, too. Who knew he’d have so many fans in the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Fungal pandemics come and go, but pasta is forever.”

He laughed mid-chew, snorting so effusively a J-shaped piece of pasta landed at your feet.

“Huh,” you said. “J for Joel.”

You ate the rest of your food in relative silence, the levity of the first few bites subsiding once you realized how hungry you truly were.

A few minutes later, you set your empty can on the hearth with a clatter. “I’m gonna turn in.”

Joel nodded. “I’ll take first watch. Good night, Doe.”

“Night, Joel.”

Upon further inspection, the puke-covered couch appeared to convert into a mostly unscathed bed. It felt almost wrong to tuck yourself beneath such cozy bedding in your filthy patrol clothes. Especially since you had to be ready to spring into action at any moment, which meant your shoes stayed on too. But it’s not like there were other options. You lay your head atop the impossibly fluffy pillow, and let your eyes fall shut. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

* * *

You only ever saw Steffy in your dreams anymore. Your baby sister had been there for the collapse of the Salt Lake City QZ, escaping alongside you. But somewhere between fleeing and finding yourself at the gates of Jackson, you’d lost her. You’re not sure what happened exactly, but the dread in the pit of your stomach left no room for wondering: Steffy was dead.

She was alive right now, though. You were little again, sitting on the terracotta tiles of your Aunt Suzie’s back porch. It was summer, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the magnolia tree above you.

While the adults grilled, you and Steffy had a tea party. All the best dolls were invited, teddy bears too. Even Steffy’s favorite, a bedraggled rat plushie named Ratty.

“Ratty wants Earl Grey,” Steffy said, holding out a tiny teacup and saucer.

“Why, of course,” you replied in a bad British accent, pretending to pour him a cup.

Steffy made Ratty drink the whole cup in one gulp. “Dee-licious.”

You giggled. She giggled. It was contagious, the two of you devolving into downright guffaws when you noticed the adults’ chatter had stopped. Looking over your sister’s shoulder, your face fell.

“What’s wrong?” Steffy asked with a tilt of her head.

You wanted to tell her to run. You wanted to tell her to get behind you, that something was wrong. But you were frozen. 

That’s when the clicker sunk its teeth into her neck.

You woke with a start, flailing wildly, arm connecting with something hard, something that let out an ‘oof’ in response. Joel. You had hit Joel. Based on the proximity, you guessed he was trying to wake you.

“Sorry,” you panted, heart still racing from your dream. “Time for my watch?”

“No,” you could barely make out the shake of his head against what was left of the dying firelight. “It’s only been a couple hours. You were flailin’ about, looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh,” you said. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

“If you’re sure,” he said. “I’m here, y’know. If you want to… talk about it, or anything.”

You were still shaky. Your heart was still going so fast. But you weren’t about to discuss your dead sister with Joel Miller.

“I’m fine.” You doubled down, softer than you meant to.

“Okay,” he backed off, returning to his spot leaned up against the fireplace, eyes on the door.

Minutes passed, and your heart was still racing. Your hand throbbed, and you wondered how hard you’d hit Joel. Hopefully not hard enough to leave a mark.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” you said softly through the darkness.

“It’s fine, Doe. You were dreaming.”

You hated the way he brushed away your concerns, the way he gave you grace. In your experience, people rarely let others off the hook, not really. There was always some resentment that lingered.

If you were going to owe him, you might as well really owe him.

“Joel?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about that.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself to ask for what you wanted. “Will you cuddle with me? It’s not you, it’s just…I need another person. We’re safe here, we don’t need a watch, not really. And I need you.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t personal.”

“It’s not,” you bristled. “But I thought it would be nice.”

“Never said it wouldn’t be, sweetheart.”

You lay there expectantly for what felt like ages. Then, finally, you heard the squeak of old floorboards under his boots, and felt the squish of the mattress as he climbed onto it beside you. You found a position easily, one arm beneath your head, his other loosely draped across your waist.

Your heart slowed marginally, but your breathing remained fast and light.

“Relax, sweetheart. You gotta breathe.”

“I can’t–” you started. He cut you off with a hand to your stomach.

“You can.” He pulled you back against him gently, not so tight you were crushed, but just enough for you to feel the expanding and contracting of his own breath against your back. “Breathe with me, alright?”

You nodded with a shuddering breath. He tapped your stomach lightly with his thumb. You matched his inhale, breathing deeply and resenting the fact that this shit works every goddamn time. Within a few minutes, you were calm. Or as calm as you were going to get, anyway.

“I get them too, you know,” Joel admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were still pulled close against him, neither of you having made a move to scramble apart once your breathing returned to normal. At his admission, you relaxed into him fully, taking his free hand in yours.

Before you knew it, you were asleep once more, dreamless and deep, held safe and secure in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 4 - Daybreak

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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.0k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: masturbation (m)

Chapter 4 - Daybreak

The first time Joel met you, he imagined you smelled like daisies. He couldn’t be sure, of course. He never got close enough to tell. But in his head, you smelled like them. He was sure of it.

The second time Joel met you, he was even more certain. There was a daisy tucked behind your ear, for Pete’s sake.

The third time he met you, you smelled like hay. That was to be expected, you’d come straight to the dining hall from the stables. But he still reckoned it covered up daisies.

Last night Joel dreamt of different flowers: dandelions. His brain brought him back to a hike he’d gone on with Sarah years ago, up in the mountains where they’d found a huge patch of the yellow sprouts and he’d taught her to make flower crowns. She was better at it than he was, her nimble fingers and natural talent for handicrafts far outpacing his own skills. Still, she wore the crown he made for her like it was a damn tiara. He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were technically weeds.

Joel woke with a smile. He was warm, and cozy, and the haze of sleep soothed his weary soul. His eyes were dry and a little crusty. His mouth tasted vaguely like spaghetti sauce. And the world smelled like daisies.

Daisies.

He opened his eyes with a start, struggling not to make a sudden movement and startle you awake. His nose was buried in your hair, and he wasn’t sure whether the scent of daisies was coming from your shampoo or your laundry detergent or if it was just you , but he didn’t care.

Because he was right. And if Joel Miller loved anything, it was being fucking right.

Despite the vindication, he felt conflicted. Joel wasn’t exactly in the habit of curling up with patrol partners when they’d had a bad dream. This was a dangerous precedent to set.

You rolled over in your sleep, cuddling closer against him. The resulting friction informed him that he was painfully, embarrassingly hard.

Fuck, Joel thought to himself. He had to figure out a way to… deal with this without waking you up. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or objectified. He knew it was just a reflex—he was sleeping, he couldn’t control it. But it made him feel like a stupid, horny teenager all over again.

Careful not to wake you, he slipped out of bed. Tiptoeing to the door, he let himself out quietly.

He snuck around back, leaning up against the woodshed. When he glanced up at the treeline, though, he found Bailey and Chestnut staring him down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he panted, breath fogging up in the early morning chill.

He ducked around to the other side of the shed and freed himself from his jeans. 

It wasn’t you, he thought to himself. It couldn’t be you. It was just a warm body and a soft bed and the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that close in that way to anybody at all.

He thumbed over his slit, wiping away the bead of precum that wept from his tip. What would you feel like? He wondered, stroking faster. Probably soft, and warm, and wonderful. He was close just thinking about it.

“Stop it,” he smacked himself across the face, struggling to catch his breath. The motion just reminded him of the sore mark you’d left behind last night. Evidence of your touch, evidence of your skin on his.

He came into the dirt a second later. Kicking some loose soil over it and tucking himself away, he looked up to see the first rays of sunrise peeking over the mountaintops. The rays caught on the water in such a way that it seemed to turn to liquid gold before his eyes. 

“Wake up,” Joel shook your shoulder gently.

“Mmm,” you groaned. “What time is it?”

“Don’t matter,” he dragged you out of bed by the hand, guiding your arms into the sleeves of your puffer jacket. “You need to see this.”

By the time you made it outside, all you saw was gray. Clouds had covered up the sunrise, and Joel felt like a fucking fool.

“What am I looking at, exactly?” you asked with a yawn.

Joel frowned, genuinely disappointed the stunning vista had disappeared so quickly. There was so little beauty left in this world. He hated the idea of anyone missing out on what remained.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “It’s gone.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair that morning, the two of you sat huddled around the fireplace like the night before.

“Do beans count as breakfast?” you asked as he took a bite from a can of the refried stuff.

“It’s a fast. I’m breaking it. I’d say it counts.”

You chewed silently for a few moments. Your peaches would have been fine straight out of the can, but Joel had still heated them in the coals. You were grateful for it; they warmed you from the inside.

“We should head up to the fire lookout,” you said. “It’s the highest point on this ridge. If we can find a path uphill, we’ll reach it eventually. I should be able to plot a return route from there.”

He nodded. “I saw an old trailhead when I was out back earlier. Doubt it’s been maintained since well before the outbreak, but it’s a start.”

You nodded in agreement, sprinkling some granola on your peaches.

“Why were you out back earlier?”

Joel’s eyes went wide for a second before he managed to school his expression. 

“Needed to…grab some wood.”

“There’s plenty of wood in here, Joel.”

“We went through a lot last night,” he said, doing his best to sound authoritative. “It would be rude not to replace it.”

You chuckled at that. “Glad to know even in the apocalypse, chivalry’s not dead.”

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 5 - The Lookout Tower

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

previous | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 5 - The Lookout Tower

The trailhead proved useful, sloping gently downwards for a while before bringing you to the base of a long series of switchbacks. You couldn’t see the lookout tower, but the path led uphill. And uphill was the right direction.

Joel was quiet as you made your way up the twisting path. You were starting to think that was just his natural state when he spoke up.

“About last night…” he started. You didn’t let him finish.

“It never happened.” You offered him a reassuring smile over your shoulder. “I appreciate it. But I don’t…expect anything. From you.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. He just nodded, looking down at the path in front of him. You felt bad, cutting him off like that.

“How are Ellie’s shoes holding up?” you asked.

“They’re good,” he nodded. “Very flashy.”

You pulled your horse to a halt, whipping around to look at him. 

“Joel Miller, was that a pun ?”

He looked like a deer in headlights.

“Don’t tell Ellie.”

The rest of the trek passed easily, the conversation light. You talked about your lives before the outbreak, at least the parts that didn’t hurt to discuss.

He’d worked in construction, he told you. He built houses, and liked it well enough. You tried asking him about his life outside of work, but he kept redirecting the conversation back to you. You didn’t push him on it.

You told him of your own life—that you’d been 18 when the outbreak hit, and had just started college in Colorado when a bout of homesickness brought you home to Salt Lake City for the weekend. You’d been there ever since. Well, until Jackson, that is.

“What was your major?” he asked you.

You sighed wistfully at the memory of your 18-year-old self, whose future had gone up in spores.

“Undeclared.”

Joel let out a low hum of understanding. You heard the soft sound of his lips parting as if to say more, but no words followed.

You forged ahead.

After a while, the switchbacks spat you out at the base of a tall wooden tower supported by beams far rustier than you’d anticipated.

“We’ll get tetanus if we try to climb that thing,” you said.

“Might have a point there,” he agreed.

While you tethered the horses to a tree, Joel circled the base of the tower, looking for a way up.

“There,” he pointed to the collapsed balcony on one side. “The railing’s out. I’ll boost you up, then you can drop down a ladder or something.”

You crossed your arms, nodding.

“How does that work, exactly?”

He quirked a smile. “You’ve never been boosted?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“It’s simple,” he said, squatting beneath the access point and interlacing his fingers. He held them out in front of him, creating a sort of foothold. “One foot goes here, then one on my shoulder, then I stand up and give you a boost.”

“That sounds wildly unsafe.”

“You just have to trust me. I won’t let you fall, I promise. Just use the momentum and push yourself up like you’re getting out of a swimming pool.”

“And Ellie does this?”

“All the time.”

“Fine,” you nodded, stepping towards him. He met your eyes, then assumed the position. You stepped into his hands, then on his shoulder, and next thing you knew you were pulling yourself up onto the balcony.

You looked back down at Joel, who gave you a patronizing smile and two thumbs up. 

“Nice job, sweetheart.”

You flipped him off, and went to find something for him to climb on.

The place was sparsely decorated, with a cot against one wall and a large map spread across a central table. Waist-height wooden walls bordered the small square room, with windows spanning the remaining gap to the ceiling.

A coil of rope sat atop a strange wooden stool with each leg placed in what appeared to be a water glass, the liquid long since evaporated. Thick knots were tied at one-foot increments, clearly meant for climbing.

You secured the rope to a metal bracket protruding from the outside wall and dropped the loose end over the edge to Joel.

“Here,” you called out to him. “Climb on up.”

You continued your inspection of the place, opening drawers to find little more than dusty old clothes and files from before the outbreak. In the top drawer of what appeared to be a dresser, however, you found a threadbare plushie. Not a lion, or a tiger, or a bear. 

But a rat.

You wailed, dropping the thing like it just bit you.

“Doe!” Joel called up.

You couldn't hear him. You couldn't hear anything. You were frozen to the spot, memories flashing through your mind at breakneck speed. Memories of nightmares like the one you'd had last night.

Over and over and over again, you watched your sister die. Watched as she was mauled by clickers, shot by raiders, hanged by FEDRA for breaking some arbitrary rule.

Joel shouted your name again, but there was no response.

“Dammit,” he muttered, taking the rope in his hands and beginning to climb. He made it about five feet off the ground before the bracket snapped under his weight, the bolts giving way and dropping him on his ass.

He got to his feet quickly, assessing the situation. He wasn't sure what was going on with you, there was no sound of a struggle so he doubted you were hurt. Maybe something had startled you? He couldn't tell for certain without being there himself.

He pulled thick leather gloves from his pack, and risked the rusty scaffolding. Pulling himself up over the railing, he entered the tower to see you sitting on the edge of the cot, silent tears spilling down your cheeks while your eyes stared out into nothingness.

Pulling off his gloves, he got down on his knees before you. He put a hand on your knee, shaking you gently in an attempt to snap you out of it. It didn't work.

“Doe, what's wrong?” He asked gently.

His words caught your attention, but the only explanation you could offer was the rat plushie held gingerly in your hands. He took it, looking the scraggly thing over.

“I don't understand,” he said.

“My sister,” you said quietly. “She was here.”

He sat next to you, both of your gazes fixed firmly on the toy rodent.

“Were you separated?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “She's dead.”

“How?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. Joel winced at the rude inquiry, but it didn't seem to faze you.

“That's the thing,” you smiled dejectedly. “I don't remember.”

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, you not offering up any additional information and Joel not coaxing it out of you.

“I–” he started, just as you rose to your feet.

“We should go,” you cut him off, crossing to the map that sat atop the large central table.

Joel nodded, joining you.

The map showed Jackson and the surrounding mountains, with the lookout tower marked with what appeared to be a gold star sticker like the kind your first grade teacher used to give out. You pulled a compass from your pack, aligning it with the one on the map, and pointed ahead and slightly to your right.

“The lodge is that way.”

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 6 - The Lodge

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

Chapter 6 - The Lodge

A light rain had begun to fall by the time you reached the lodge. The dirt trail quickly turned to mud, and the horses’ hooves squelched with every step. You braced yourself, sliding off Bailey’s back and landing in the stuff with a resolute plop . 

Though you’d had the foresight to waterproof your boots, water and mud were two very different beasts. You’d probably be scrubbing dirt out of your laces for a good long while once you got home. Which at this rate felt like it may not happen until well after you died of old age.

Sodden and starving, you tethered Bailey to a post and approached the front porch.

“More breaking and entering?” Joel asked as you crouched to a squat before the door.

“Nope.” You flipped up the corner of the doormat to reveal a hidden key. “Consider us lodge-sitters.”

“Aren’t you worried about break-ins?” Joel asked.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Joel, but this region isn’t exactly overflowing with people. And if any do find this place…” You trailed off as you slid the key in the lock, glancing up to meet his eyes. “Well, has a locked door ever stopped you?”

Before he could answer, you pushed through the door and stepped into the mercifully well-insulated structure.

The place was pretty bare-bones, with empty storage shelves built into one wall and a threadbare couch pushed up against another. The worn-down dregs of what had once been carpet covered the concrete subfloor here and there.

Despite it all, the sofa beckoned. You sank into it, backpack sandwiched between you and the rear cushions, and sighed.

Then Joel had the audacity to block your light.

“Can I help you?” you asked, opening one eye to glare up at him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Logbook. Linner. Leave.” You counted out the steps of your incredibly thorough plan on frozen fingertips.

“Linner?”

“We’re well past lunchtime. Not quite to dinner. It’s linner, the brunch of the afternoon.”

“That is so goddamn stupid.”

Even with your eyes closed, you could hear the smile in his voice. That is so goddamn adorable .

Joel trailed off towards the only other thing in the room, an old podium atop which rested the dusty, leather-bound logbook. A clicky pen sat nestled between the pages, bearing words he’d never expected to read again, let alone here:

Dr. Neil Henry, DDS - Austin Community Dentistry

He laughed, holding up the pen to show you.

“You know this used to be my dentist, back in Austin?”

“Did it now?” You smirked.

“Dr. Henry. Always used to nag me about flossin’,” he reminisced.

“Did it work?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Not ‘till after the outbreak, anyhow. No one’s around to give you a root canal nowadays. I’d rather not need one.”

“Fair point,” you said, well aware of the hypocrisy as you gnawed on an extraordinarily tough chunk of jerky. 

Your eyes swept the stunning vista visible through the lodge’s massive windows. They reminded you of the ones in your office, and in the lookout tower. There was something about them that put you at ease, which made no sense whatsoever. They were glass, and not even particularly thick glass at that. Much like life before the outbreak, they were an illusion of security at best.

But still, you liked them.

Joel followed your gaze, and his breath caught in his throat at the view. It was beautiful. Not quite as magnificent as this morning’s sunrise had been, but still breathtaking.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Pretty, huh?” you answered without looking back.

“It’s like a screensaver. Or a wallpaper or somethin’.” Joel mused, eyes wide in awe.

“Hmm,” you mused. “Mine used to be a picture of the Great Wall of China.”

“Why’s that?”

“It was the default,” you sighed, picking out the raisins from your trail mix. “But also I’ve always thought ruins were cool as shit.”

“Plenty of those to be had nowadays,” he said.

“Too many, if you ask me.”

You both chewed in silence for a minute, watching the birds coming home from their winter vacations.

“You know Eugene leaves jokes in here?” Joel broke the silence.

“I did.”

“You hear his latest?”

“Hit me with it.”

“Alright,” Joel turned to face you, smile wide. “What do we want? Low-flying planes! When do we want ‘em? Nyeowwww.” He mimed a plane diving with his finger, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“That’s one of his better jokes.”

“Yeah, the man’s no Will Livingston.”

You smiled. You were intimately familiar with Livingston’s work, ever since Ellie decided to thank you for her new light-up sneakers with a selection of the punster’s greatest hits.

There was no need for a security sweep after you’d finished eating. The whole place was only a couple of rooms, and you’d already checked the perimeter before entering.

“Go get the horses ready,” you instructed. “I’ll finish up here.”

You scribbled your report in the logbook and tucked away the remnants of linner, swinging your pack over your shoulders before taking one last look at the view.

It was golden hour, and the sun hit the clouds in a way that transcended any screensaver comparison. It was as if you’d been granted a glimpse of heaven itself.

* * *

You watched from the porch as Joel took a drink from his canteen. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the chiseled scruff of his jawline–from an objective standpoint, the man certainly had a rugged charm to him. But he was far from the only cowboy type in Jackson. And this was far from your first rodeo.

As Joel tucked the canteen away, he remembered the outside pocket of his pack. It held loose bullets and some of Ellie’s hair ties, but most importantly, it held a ballpoint pen.

As he heard you turn the key in the lock, he called out. 

“Hang on! I forgot something.”

Unlocking the door once more, you ushered Joel inside.

He jogged over to the logbook with his offering, swiftly swapping it out for the one with a touch of home. He was halfway to the door when his brain caught up with his eyes and he turned on the spot to inspect your logbook entry.

All clear, no signs of raiders or infected.

It wasn’t the description that jarred him. It was the names. His, of course, was transcribed in loopy cursive, the standard, un-misspell-able ‘Joel Miller’. Beside it was a nickname–no, a last name –preceded by a first name that brought everything into focus:

Jane Doe.

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chapter notes:

New chapter! Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry for the long gap between updates, life has been cray.

Big Jane Doe reveal oooh!!! I would never blatantly rip off Yearling like that don't worry!!!!!!!!!! @justagalwhowrites BIG FAN THO

Curious to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter and what's coming next, I legit have been planning out this whole fic with a very elaborate color-coded notecards-on-corkboard setup (I am, in fact, a virgo). So more fun stuff coming hopefully sooner rather than later.

Comments make me type faster!

Love you all so much, and thank you for reading! I got really creatively blocked during the writers' strike and getting back into fanfic writing has been incredibly healing. Grateful for you all.

taglist: @aspecialgreenie

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 7 - Homecoming

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

previous | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.5k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

Chapter 7 - Homecoming

“Slow down!” You shouted as you trailed behind Joel’s horse.

His dark-brown mare stepped effortlessly over puddles and swerved gracefully around patches of loose dirt. Your smaller, more cautious horse struggled to keep up.

“Can’t. Sorry, Doe,” He called back over his shoulder.

“Why the hell not?”

He continued down the trail with a grunt, leaving your unanswered question hanging in the air. The wind quickly swept it away. It was picking up as you headed back towards Jackson. You made a mental note to schedule a maintenance crew to check for weak spots in the fence once it passed.

Loose hairs clouded your vision as a particularly strong gust swept through. You undid your braid and twisted your locks up into a bun. You wrapped the elastic once, twice, until–

SNAP!

You tossed your head back with a groan. “Oh, come on!”

You shoved the broken hair tie in your pocket and nudged Bailey forward down a path that was beginning to feel a lot more like an obstacle course than a trail.

Joel was waiting for you as you rounded the corner.

“I thought you were in a hurry.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. Much like yours, it was a wind-tousled mess.

“I am. It’s just–”

He gestured towards the fork in the trail before him. You smirked.

“Ever heard of a map, Miller?”

“We left it at the lookout tower.”

You nodded. “True. But I keep an extra right here.” You tapped your forehead for emphasis, and he gave you an eye roll that rivaled one of Ellie’s.

“I meant a paper one, not a mental one.”

You pointed out a stack of rocks set off to one side, a few paces down the left-hand path.

“See that tall pile of stones?”

He nodded.

“Maps are hard to come by around here unless we make them ourselves. For patrols closer to Jackson, we use stone cairns to mark pathways. If you ever get lost, they’ll lead you back home every time.”

Joel pursed his lips in a subtle sign of approval. “Clever. I’ll let Ellie know, in case she needs it someday.”

You offered a soft smile, then led the way down the cairn-marked trail back towards Jackson.

Perhaps that’s why he’s in such a hurry , you realized. He’s worried about Ellie.

You looked back over your shoulder, and your heart clenched at the concern so apparent on his worn features.

Your voice was gentle as you spoke. “I’m sure she’s fine, you know.”

“That’s none of your concern,” he bristled.

The words weren’t particularly harsh, but they caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but flinch as if you’d been struck by a fist instead of a statement.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

You traveled in silence after that. The wind picked up as evening took hold, and it was a struggle to keep your hair out of your face. You tried twisting it up into a knot, tucking the ends into the coil to hold it in place, but it fell out every time. Then you tried pulling your hood over your head, but that limited your peripheral vision too much. So you tried braiding it, but you’d never been any good without a mirror.

“Quit futzin’ with it,” Joel sighed, pulling his horse to a stop.

You followed suit, turning to face him.

He just looked at you, hand outstretched. “Get down.”

His expression was equal parts insistence and annoyance. You let him help you down, and your breath caught in your throat as he spun you around.

“What are you–”

“Relax,” he drawled. “I’m fixing your hair. You can’t have it flyin’ around in this wind. If we hit trouble, you need to be able to see.”

“I know. I don’t have a hair tie, though.”

He reached into his saddlebag and retrieved one. “Good thing I do, then.”

“Why do you have a hair tie?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you think?”

You clenched your eyes shut as you realized the painfully obvious answer.

“Ellie.”

“Bingo.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he brushed through your hair with his fingers, gently detangling the pesky, persistent knots. He separated it into three sections and began to braid.

“Ellie usually wears her hair in a ponytail. When did you learn how to braid?”

He let out a soft huff of air. You couldn’t tell without looking at him whether it was one of pain or wistful recollection.

“Long time ago. Even longer story.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. You let his answer be enough, and closed your eyes as he finished your braid. His hands were sturdy, yet kind. He didn’t pull on your hair out of frustration like your mother once had. His breath just barely tickled the tops of your ears as he worked, but it was there, warm and steady. Just like with everything else, Joel knew what he was doing.

You jumped when he patted your shoulder a minute later.

“All done. Let’s skedaddle.”

It took you a moment to return to yourself. Despite your better judgment, you had found yourself lost in the sensation of Joel’s touch.

“I hate that word,” you muttered as you swung your leg over the saddle, settling into place on Bailey’s back.

“What would you suggest instead, then?” He asked.

You panicked. “Uhhh…boogie?”

He barked a laugh. “That is so much worse. But fine, let’s boogie.”

So boogie you did. Thankfully once you rounded the bend, the trail opened up and you were able to walk side by side. You swept the braid over your shoulder and paused to feel it. It was silky smooth, not a hair out of place. It was perfect, practiced. You were grateful for it.

As you reached the base of the foothills, the far-off lights of Jackson came into view. Floodlights illuminated the main gate and key communal areas, with twinkle lights strung above the main thoroughfare. Firelight flickered through house windows, and you could feel the warmth from here. This place, more so than any you’d ever experienced, felt like home.

Joel peered over the edge of the meandering path that led down to the main gates. You were only a few miles off now.

“Looks like someone cleared that rubble,” he remarked.

“That would be Mike and Casey. Those two are a veritable dream team.”

“How’d they know it was there?” he asked.

You pulled the walkie-talkie from its holster at your hip and held it aloft in answer. “Long-range radio. It’s been an ongoing effort with spotty results, but the improvements to patrol safety are undeniable.”

Joel stared at you. “You jerry-rigged the walkies? I thought that was a satellite radio or something. Not that many of those work anymore.”

“Took a while, but yeah. Why do you think Maria put me in charge of all the unglamorous backend stuff? In a place like Jackson, problems are doomed to arise. I like solving them before they pose a threat to our survival.”

He eyed you curiously. “You take this real serious, don’t you?”

You replied with a curt nod, “I do.”

***

The gates swung open as you approached, the green ‘all clear’ flag held high above your head in a tight grip.

You let out a sigh as it closed behind you, sliding off Bailey’s back and rolling your shoulders as the innate stress of being outside the walls retreated at last.

“Good patrol,” Joel spoke from behind you.

You turned to see his hand outstretched. You hesitated, then took it.

His skin was rough against yours, weathered by years of hard labor and reluctant adventure. His grip was firm but gentle. Then, with a squeeze, it was gone.

“Good patrol,” you muttered, taking Chestnut’s reins from his other hand and passing both horses off to the waiting stable hand.

He cocked his head towards the houses. “You comin’?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Coming where?”

“To meet the baby.”

Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.

Your heart thumped in your chest, the pace quickening for a reason you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was the same instinct that had led you out on patrol instead of to the clinic when Maria had gone into labor. You wished you could articulate what it was about childbirth that sent you into such a panic. But much like those mysterious years between Salt Lake and Jackson, you kept coming up blank.

Joel’s brow furrowed with concern as he took in your wide, terrified eyes.

“Doe?”

You snapped out of it as your eyes met his, but you couldn’t push the fear aside. You couldn’t stomach it, not tonight, not after everything that had happened at the lookout tower. Maria was your best friend. Surely she’d understand if you stopped by tomorrow instead.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure–”

You snapped. “I said I’m fine .”

You turned to leave, but paused as you added, “Tell Tommy and Maria congrats for me.”

Joel stepped around you, blocking your path. “Tell them yourself.”

You shot him a piercing look and pushed past him with more force than was probably necessary. He stumbled, taken aback.

Your voice dripped with venom as you got the last word.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

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taglist: @aspecialgreenie

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 8 - Locked Out

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

previous | next

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.5k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

Chapter 8 - Locked Out

Few things about post-outbreak life had come easy to Joel, but one thing he never struggled with was silence. He was a man of few words, he relished in solitude, and his years as a father made him excellent at moving quietly. While he’d developed that skill to avoid waking Sarah as an infant, it also proved useful for avoiding Infected. He never thought he’d get another chance to use his light tread for anything other than survival, but here he was. Carefully climbing the creaky wooden steps to his brother’s front door, stepping over the squeakiest one he’d been meaning to fix for ages now.

Knock! Knock!

Joel rapped softly on the warm oak door, just loud enough to announce his presence without risking a screaming baby.

Tommy answered a moment later.

“You look like shit,” Joel cracked an amused smile. Tommy had said something similar the first time he’d greeted Joel after Sarah was born.

“Gee, thanks,” Tommy rolled his eyes. He stepped backward, holding the door to usher Joel inside. He hung his filthy patrol jacket on a peg and turned to take it all in.

It was as if a tornado had swept through. Dirty dishes were scattered across every horizontal surface but the floor, and the burp cloth situation wasn’t much better. By the looks of it, Maria was currently making do with a bath mat.

A smile crept across his lips as the baby finally spit up and then descended into soft, easy snores. It was peaceful in the way only small children could be.

“Congratulations,” he said softly, patting his brother on the back far more gently than Tommy had when he’d been freshly uncled.

“Thanks, Joel,” Tommy smiled. There was exhaustion in his eyes, but also a familiar, joyful satisfaction Joel recognized. It was the look of a father.

“Fatherhood suits you, you know.”

“You think?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded. “I know.”

Maria chimed in from across the room. “You wanna meet her?”

Joel beamed. “Can I?”

Maria nodded, and he crossed to where she stood beside the fireplace. She jutted her chin toward the couch, and he took a seat in his usual spot.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered as Maria placed the sleeping babe in his outstretched arms.

It didn’t look right, all his wrinkles and scars and gray hair against such pure, unbridled innocence. He didn’t expect the tears that slipped down his cheeks as he beheld her.

Tommy came to stand behind him, watching with newfound respect for his brother as he met his niece for the first time.

“What’s her name?” Joel asked.

Tommy looked at Maria. She nodded, giving him silent permission to proceed.

“Margaret Sarah Miller. Maggie for short.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what he saw in Joel’s eyes as his head snapped to look at him. All he knew was there were tears and something undeniably raw in there. It moved him.

“Maggie, like our mom Maggie?” He asked.

Tommy nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “And Sarah, like your daughter.”

Joel rolled his eyes through the tears. “Well, yeah, I got that part.”

Maria barked a laugh, and Tommy couldn’t help but follow suit. Joel of all people giggled, and then before they knew it little Maggie was opening her eyes. Her skin was dark like her mother’s, but her eyes—those were Miller eyes. It wasn’t the color that confirmed it, but the tenacity within them. The spark. The wildness that would forever refuse to be tamed.

“She’s gonna be trouble, this one,” Joel mused. “No doubt about it.”

Tommy chuckled. “Well, she’s got Ellie as a big cousin. I’d expect nothing less.”

Joel smiled wistfully. “I’ll have to get her over here tomorrow or the next day. We’ll help clean up so the two of you can get some rest. Would’ve been by sooner, but patrol ran long.”

“Speaking of which,” Maria chimed in, retrieving the baby from Joel to bounce on her hip. “Where’s Doe? I figured she’d be with you.”

Joel’s smile fell then. He still couldn’t make heads or tails of the way you’d stormed off earlier. He sure as shit didn’t know how to explain it to Tommy and Maria.

So he gave them a total non-answer.

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “Probably went to bed. It was a long patrol, I’m sure she’s tired.”

Maria cocked an eyebrow at the lame excuse. “Too tired to meet her niece?

* * *

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You awoke to the sound of thuds on your front door.

What now? You thought to yourself as you sat upright, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Doe, open up. I know you’re in there,” a gruff male voice called out to you.

Joel. What the fuck does he want?

You rose from your nest of blankets on the futon and padded towards the door in your slippers, stepping over the piles of dirty laundry that littered your floor.

It got like this, sometimes. You tried to keep things under control, but life had a way of thwarting that endeavor at every available opportunity. You shoved the clutter out of view as best you could and opened the door a crack.

“What?” You eyed him through the opening.

He was dressed casually, a light brown t-shirt giving way to denim down below. He was sweaty, and his hair was mussed. And the look he was giving you, when paired with crossed arms, was downright murderous.

“Office doesn’t open ‘till eight.”

“It’s ten-thirty,” he said, his voice rife with exasperation.

Shit, you winced. I can’t believe I overslept by that much.

You sighed, then opened the door a bit more. Your outfit was messy, but nothing out of the ordinary for pajamas.

“How can I help you, Joel?”

“Wanna tell me why Tommy says you still haven’t been by to see Maria? You’ve been back three days, Doe. She had the baby damn near a week ago. What gives?”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d never been one for excuses, but they were particularly elusive now. You broke eye contact, instead opting to try your hand at staring a hole through the corrugated metal outside your door. It didn’t work. 

Joel reached forward and grabbed the door handle, yanking it open to expose you to the fresh morning air and bright sunlight that hurt your unprepared eyes. You stepped forward quickly, shutting the door behind you before Joel could get a good look at the depression pit formerly known as your office.

“I’m not leaving until you give me an answer,” Joel drawled.

You leaned back against the door and looked up at him with a frown. “You weren’t this mean back at the fire tower.”

“That was different. You needed coddlin’.”

“Who’s to say I don’t need coddling now? You don’t know me. You don’t know my life.”

“That’s the problem.” Joel dropped his hands to his sides. “I don’t know. Because you won’t tell me.”

“You assume there’s something to tell. There’s not.”

“What, cause you got amnesia or somethin’? I saw how you signed your name in the logbook. Either you’ve got real shit taste in aliases or there’s something more going on here.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “That’s private.”

“Clearly,” he spat. “Just tell me, are you planning on ignoring her forever, or are you gonna get your ass over there and go meet your niece?”

“That’s not my niece.”

“Maria begs to differ.”

Your eyebrows shot upward, and Joel seized the opportunity to continue.

“You’re her best friend. Her right-hand woman around here. She thinks of you as a sister, Doe.”

Something seized in your gut. “I don’t have a sister. Not anymore.”

You reached for the door handle and pulled, but–

“Fuck.”

It wouldn’t budge. Your heart rate picked up. You resisted the urge to vomit.

You pushed past Joel and scanned the flat expanse between the base of the building and the large wooden gates that enclosed the community you’d dedicated yourself to protecting. It was busy this time of day, but there was one person in particular you were looking for. You spotted her by the stables.

“Casey! Hey!” You waved your arms over your head to catch her attention.

“Doe? What’s wrong?”

You jutted a thumb over your shoulder. “Got locked out again.”

She sighed. “That’s the third time this month, dude. You gotta get a doorstop or something.”

“I know. Sorry,” you called down as she stopped beneath the wraparound balcony that surrounded your small office perch.

She tossed the spare up, but before you could catch it, a hand reached out and snatched it from the air.

“Thanks!” Joel called down to Casey. “I’ll help her get inside.”

“I could’ve caught that, you know.” You scowled, striding back towards the door.

Joel walked right past it and set off down the stairs that led to ground level.

“The fuck—Joel, where are you going?”

“To Tommy and Maria’s. And if you want to get back into that office of yours, you’re coming with me.”

You took a shaky breath. This was so not what you needed right now. You peered through the door's small wire-infused utility window and gazed longingly at your office. Or was it your apartment? You guessed it was technically both, since you slept on the futon. You locked eyes with the crusty rat plushie perched tall atop your mountain of cozy blankets, and whispered a solemn vow.

“I’ll be back for you soon, Ratty. I promise.”

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taglist: @aspecialgreenie, @guelyury, @amyispxnk, @picketniffler, @hiroikegawa

What Is Wrong With Me?

Pairing: Erik Destler x Reader

Summary: Reader is feeling sad while Erik is out. Erik comes back and comforts reader. Mental breakdown and feelings ensue. This is my first fic so please be nice to me<3

Warnings: Fluff, First Kiss, Sad Reader, literally nothing to worry about

AO3

Hopelessness. Pure hopelessness. That's what you were feeling. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Erik had stepped out to do only God knows what and so here you lie on his couch, one of the only pieces of furniture in Erik's underground home. Feeling as if you've fallen into a deep, dark hole filled with nothing but your loneliness and self-pity.

"Angel?"

Your head whips around to face Erik only to turn it in the opposite direction just as quickly as to hide the dried tears on your face which you're sure are far too visible for him not to have seen already.

Erik didn't think much of you lying on his couch as he entered, which you had persuaded him to get because apparently he needed more then the bed he had provided for you since his coffin didn't count. Then he saw your face, the expression which stood somewhere between blank and sorrowful and the dried tears that laid on your cheeks. The scene before him broke his heart. He approached you as you tried to hide your face into your left shoulder and kneeled beside you.

"Angel, mon amour, what's wrong? Please tell me, I beg you!"

The desperate need in his voice to know what was wrong with you broke your heart. What on Earth could you say to him to explain this feeling. There was no explanation to this feeling, it was just simply there. The combination of all your overwhelming thoughts and crushing need to be vulnerable finally made your resolve snap.

It was like the rest of your tears that you had refused to shed were being held back by a dam and it finally broke. There was no way that you could stop the tears that were streaming down your face or the sobs that you were releasing that broke Erik's heart even more. Unable to give it another thought you launched yourself into beloveds arms. Your breakdown got even worse as you were filled with Erik's comfort and warmth as he tightened his arms around you.

"I don't know what's wrong with me."

Your words were choked out in between your sobs. You had never felt more helpless but Erik's hold on you made you feel loved and somewhat grounded. You had no idea what he was going to say if was even going to say anything at all. Though you were content to stay in his embrace for as long as possible.

Your tears died down and all that could be heard was your sniffles. You didn't want to let go of Erik and lose the warming comfort of his embrace but you knew you couldn't hold onto him forever. You reluctantly loosened your arms from around his neck but his grip around your waist didn't relent.

"Chéri,"

Your sentence was put short when Erik used a kiss to silence you. In all the times that you had imagined what your first kiss with Erik would be like you had never thought that it would happen right after you broke down in tears in his arms. Though, who were you to complain? You had waited for so long, not wanting to push Erik who had far too little affection given to him throughout the years until you came along. Erik pulled away though he wouldn't dare move farther away then a few inches so he rested his forehead against yours. The coldness of his mask sent a slight chill through you. He gazed into your eyes with love and longing and sympathy and you gazed back with the same sentiment. His voice filled the comfortable silence almost startling you.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, mon trésor."

The sentence almost made you burst into tears again although these tears would've been out of joy and love. You tightened your grip around his neck once again bringing you even closer. He removed a hand from around your waist and used it to wipe away some tears that still remained. A small smile found its way onto both of your faces and you had never felt more loved or more lucky to have Erik.

"Erik, mon coeur?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making me feel loved."

"You are loved, mon ange."

"As are you, you are ma raison d'être."

"And you are ma raison de vivre."

You couldn't say how much longer you stayed in each others embrace. The only thing you know for sure is there were many more kisses and sweet nothings whispered in each others ears. Your kisses carried out into the night and you fell asleep in each others arms.

Long after sleep overcame the both of you, Erik's mask lie fallen onto the floor but that was a problem for the two of you to face in the morning.

translations:

mon amour: my love chéri: darling mon trésor: my treasure mon coeur: my heart mon ange: my angel ma raison d'être: my reason for being ma raison de vivre: my reason for living

I'm With You

Summary- You notice Spencer’s mental health slowly drain while working on a complicated case and you’d do whatever to relieve that stress, even if it meant involving yourself in a subject you barely know about.

Rating- Not Rlly Mature

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings- no use of y/n, very slight angst, established relationship, small kissing, happy ending, fluff, fluff, fluff, hopefully that’s all!

Words- 1.5k

You lay comfortably on your love, Spencer’s mahogany long couch while reading one of the many books he collected every other week. You appreciated his love and care for books, even if most of them were informational. It encouraged you to dive further into your reading skills, increasing them for the sake of your own intelligence and enjoyment. Your reading also gave you a distraction from his absence, still stuck on a case at the BAU–probably racking his brain, trying to sense answers to confusing clues and openings to dead ends but never getting far because of the complexity of the case. He could only tell you bits and pieces of the unsolved case for confidential purposes, and you even tried some late evenings to dissect clues yourself. Even if you weren’t a professional in that range of work, your determination made Spencer smile, and you’d do anything to make him show his cute smile lines and tiny crinkles around his eyes.

It was almost as if he read your mind because you then heard the sound of keys dropping on the ground and whispered curses coming from outside the apartment door. Excitement filled your entire body as you closed the book, gently placing it on the coffee table before you, and rushed to help open the door. Your eyes met his tired, sunburned ones, and you swore everything around you disappeared, only brightening his perfectly imperfect features more.

“Sunshine,” Spencer breathed out, engulfing the light of his life in a bone-crushing hug. You felt all of the built-up tension in his muscles melt away as he held you in his arms.

“I missed you,” you muffled dearly into the crook of his neck, smiling at the distant smell of your signature perfume you accidentally sprayed on his white collar while you two got ready for work.

“I missed you too, darling. This case will be the literal death of me.” You sighed while mindlessly tugging at the nape of his unruly curls, eliciting a relaxing groan from him. You knew what you were in for when Spencer revealed his tiresome job to you all those years ago, and you understood the stress that came with it, even if you felt the concern resting in the pit of your stomach when you saw the damage the job could do to him.

“Oh, Spence...Hey, let’s put a hold on dinner for now and rest on the couch. You can tell me everything that’s been clouding your perfect mind, yeah?” You released your hold on him to snake an arm over his limp one, guiding him into the apartment and closing the door to make your way back to where you were sitting. Spencer only followed your way without complaint, already knowing it wouldn’t have made a difference if he rebuttaled.

You sat crisscrossed on the cushioned surface while your love rested his head on your lap, the rest of his body spread out on the other cushions. Your fingers went back into his hair, hitting all the right spots you’ve memorized just for him. Spencer’s eyes fluttered in complete bliss, and just for a second, all of his troubles disappeared. One of his hands reached up from its rested position to your wrist, gliding his fingertips loosely back and forth on your soft skin until mindlessly playing with the beaded friendship bracelet he made for you in high school.

“Morgan’s been telling me to cut some slack with everything that's been going on, but I just…I feel like the answer to all of this is on the tip of my tongue, and I’m scared it’ll be too late when I finally figure it out.” He then grabbed your wrist and laid a lingering kiss on your skin before placing your hand on his heart, craving reassurance that you weren’t going to slip out of his grasp at his most vulnerable moment, and you let him. You’d let him do anything if it assured you that he was okay. “God, the look on the victim's face when we told them there was another holdback right after we gave them hope–right after I told the team that I figured a way out of the loop.” You realized he was blaming all of this on himself, something he usually did when he felt obligated to carry anything to feel like he’d done good. You patted his chest a few times before tracing the outline of a random clear button on his shirt.

“Honey, you do realize you have a whole team that has your back, right? I truly, and I mean, truly understand how you’re feeling right now. I do, love, but please understand you can lean on them from time to time. You don’t have to share everything that’s on your mind but just something so you don’t have to hold in all of those strong feelings that are begging to be free.” You knew sometimes Spencer needed some type of push to get your word across, but you could feel his shoulders tense once again, and his finger tapping on the side of the couch grew faster. You sighed, placing your hands on his shoulders and massaging them, hoping they would relax again. You then thought of an idea, an idea your beau probably wouldn’t agree to. “What if I…helped you?”

Spencer let out a breathless chuckle. “You tried to, remember?” Though he couldn’t see, you rolled your eyes with slight amusement.

“And I failed because I didn’t have all of the information.” His lazy smile was still planted on his face as he sat up to face you.

“I told you, sunshine, they’re confidential.” You sensed seriousness in his tone, but that didn’t stop you from backing down.

“Please baby, let me help you. It kills me whenever you're feeling this way. I just want you to feel better. Let me make you feel better.” You whispered as your hand cradled the side of his face; he automatically melted into your touch. You could see the gears moving in his head until he threw his head back, his hands covering his face as he groaned in half-hearted annoyance. He couldn’t say no to you, and you knew that. You grinned as he began to get up and head in the direction of your shared room, already knowing he was getting the files to the case.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

It had been a few hours since the start of you and Spencer’s private investigation. The aroma of chicken alfredo still lingered around the apartment as your bowls rested on the coffee table that accompanied scattered files and loose papers. Your body relaxed against Spencer’s as his arm lay behind you on the couch. Your brows scrunched together in thought as you looked at your notebook, each scribble, and scratch having some type of codded meaning only you could understand.

Spencer stayed silent as he went over old articles and personal intel from the victims and convicted felons for what felt like the hundredth time. His glasses hung loosely from his nose, mindlessly pushing them up every once in a while. You skimmed through your notes until finding a sentence that felt very familiar to something that was based on the case. Sitting up, you scrimmaged through papers and more papers until finding exactly what you were looking for. Holding the two pieces of paper together, you actually found what was missing.

“Spence! Spence! I think I found it!” You beamed, shaking him out of his daze.

“Lemme see love.” He asked before you gave the two pieces of paper to him. You explained the connection between the two objects, deciphering the little details that were lodged into the evidence. What fit. What didn’t. How the intel was missed. The truth behind the victim really having something else up their sleeve that was blinded by manipulation and advanced guarding. Spencer couldn’t believe it. After weeks and weeks of constant stress and broken evidence, his beautiful, smart, endearing, love of his life managed to figure it all out.

“We did it!” You celebrated with a sigh and big stretch that’d been contained for hours and Spencer could only look at you in awe. He then grabbed your face which erupted a yelp from you until it turned into giggles when he began to litter kisses all over you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” He kept repeating, each vowel sounding more heartfelt and meaningful. His smile radiated off of him like the sun and you couldn’t help but really kiss him, wanting his love more than just simple physical contact. He melted into you as his soft lips moved in sync with yours, following your lead. You held on as long as you could before releasing for air. “I don’t deserve you.” He whispered though the sentence was loud and you understood him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head, then nose, and lips before whispering back, “You deserve the world.”

A/N: Hii guys, it’s been a minute since I last posted and I didn’t expect that blog to get as many notes as I thought it was going to get lol. Thank you, truly. I kind of just winged this imagine, not really knowing what I was doing but I thought the plot was cute so wth its ok. Again, if something doesn’t really add up to Spencer’s personality please tell me and I’ll make sure to fix itt!! I like criticism, even if it’s the hard truth lol. Thank you!!!

𝗔𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗦

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ inosuke expresses his love through acorns.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. thought this was cute. probably a little ooc but i tried.

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. none. just fluff

Inosuke had this habit of gathering acorns for you. Living in the woods his whole life and growing up being raised by boars, he was very obviously one with nature. He understood it. Despite not having the same intense hearing as Zenitzu or nose like Tanjiro, he understood the way trees moved in the breeze, the way the leaves would talk to one another, and the other earthly sounds that surrounded him at all times. He wasn’t a calm and collected person, he knew that. He wasn’t quiet. He was loud, obnoxious, boisterous and lacked patience unless it benefited him.

But he knew the beauty of nature. The way trees stood tall and proud and strong, just like mountains. The way the grass sometimes sparkles after it rains or the way the sun hits the world just the right way as it comes up over the horizon. Its colors fade from the dark of night into nice oranges as the glowing sun takes its place in the sky. But his favorite is at the end of day, when the sun goes down. Where he sits, exhausted, though he’d never admit it, from the events of the day awaiting for what will happen tomorrow. He always knew of these things. Always knew that it was there. But he never took the time to take in every last detail of it. Not until you.

Inosuke liked oak trees. They were big, beautiful and strong; just like his love for you. He gave you acorns because as they were the seeds for those big strong trees, it was like he was handing out his heart to you, handing you his love. He made it his own personal mission to give them to you every chance he could.

He was like a puppy. Getting out of bed earlier than most to go out searching for the perfect acorn. It really shouldn’t take him as long as it does, but he goes through so many just to find the one that's the most shiny, the most strong, the one that will have you singing his praises. He’s inspecting every single one till he’s satisfied and soon he is at your bedside waiting for you to wake up. He could just wake you up himself, in Inosuke fashion; shaking you, loud, and rough, but you look so nice and peaceful. And he has this urge to sit there and wait.

It took a long time for him to understand what love was. At first he thought he was allergic to you. Which confused his little underlings when they demanded to know why he was avoiding you. With the heat rising to his cheeks like a fever and the red that spread over them like a rash, Inosuke assumed that he needed to stay away from you – for his safety and yours.

Tanjiro had to explain it to him. And even though Zenitzu could be found laughing in the background, Inosuke couldn’t be bothered to pay him any attention. Inosuke was too focused reveling in the fact of this new information, that he could finally put a name to what he was feeling. Because surely the redness of your cheeks and the way you stared at him for a little too long meant that you felt the same way too. (you did)

Inosuke knew that he felt weird around you. And it took a long while for him to come to terms that it was a good thing that he felt. He knew that he liked your face and he also knew that he liked being close to you. He liked when your attention was on him, and he especially liked it when you gave him praise for his strength. He also knew that he wanted to keep you safe. He was Lord Inosuke after all, it was his job to keep you safe – whether you were also a demon slayer or not.

So, he gives you acorns. He gives you only a few at a time because you only deserve the best and finding the most perfect ones is almost impossible, as he only has so much time on his hands. Between recovering and going on missions; he eats, breathes and sleeps demon slaying. He wants to be the best and the strongest. But for you, he makes time.

And you keep them. You take them from him as he gently places them into your cupped hands. Inosuke has never handled anything with such care and delicacy in his life. But your hands were so soft; are so soft. And you look so enamored, was that even the correct word? Yes, it had to be. Inosuke watches with such care and concern. You liked them right? Of course. You thank him so graciously, with a smile that could make Inosuke almost melt into a puddle. He's speechless. He doesn’t know why.

He watches as you place them with the others. In a wide mouthed clear mason jar, with a blue bow tied around the top, you reach in your hand and gently place them in. They are on display for anyone who walks into your room, and Inosuke can help but feel prideful.

But then you turn and tell him to wait. He’s confused, though he sees you rummaging through a drawer and he realizes you are looking for something. Something for him.

“This rock reminds me of my love for you. Solid and dependable. They can withstand harsh storms with unwavering strength. It’s … enduring and unyielding. Like someone's love. Some rocks may not be flashy or extravagant, but they don’t need to be. It’s just… this one, when I saw it, I knew that it was something special. Please accept this as if it is my heart.”

You held out this rock, one that Inosuke thought was so nice looking, he didn’t know how you thought it was good enough for him. It was much larger than a pebble and it looked like it was hand picked from the koi pond over at Mr. Tomiokas’ estate.

Inosuke didn’t know if it was a known fact, and honestly, Inosuke or yourself didn’t really care to find out from others – but he admired Mr. Tomioka heavily. It was either between his calm demeanor or his fighting style, but either way, Inosuke thought that he was really cool.

And maybe that admiration extended to the koi pond that Mr. Tomioka had. He liked watching the fish swimming around in the calm water, minding their own business as the world went on around them. Sometimes, when Inosuke went through a little mental crisis, he often thought about what it might be like if he were a fish. Would you love me if I were a koi fish, type thinking process. He used to think how sad that would be. No fighting? No killing demons? How boring. But sometimes, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You could keep him in a little fish tank and feed him all the tempura he wanted.

Inosuke knows better than to take one – however – because no matter how much he likes watching them he knows that he can’t take care of it. And he also knows that no one would trust him with one either. Probably thinks that he would eat it too, which he would – probably. At least, not the ones Mr. Tomioka owns. But still, sometimes he watches the Hashira feed them and he notices how the arrangement of stones seems to mirror his personality.

And here he was now, given a stone from his koi pond from you. Somewhere deep inside himself he feels a mixture of excitement and gratitude. He never really expected anything in return. He liked giving you those acorns because that was how he expressed his love for you. How he expresses his appreciation for your existence. But for you to return the sentiment was special to him. It was more than excitement and gratitude, actually. Was he flattered? Maybe that was the word. You’ve used it before when he’d given you things and the smile on your face was blinding. Yes, that was it. He was flattered, and couldn’t help feeling his face getting hot. He had never felt so paid attention to, and Inosuke couldn’t contain himself.

He held the stone in his hand. Held it with such gentleness like it was glass, like if he breathed wrong it would break into pieces. He shot forwards and grasped you into a hug. It was such an Inosuke hug that you couldn’t help but giggle as he held you. He squished you tenderly, rough enough just like Inosuke but soft enough that made you aware of how considerate to your bodily autonomy he was – it made your heart melt beautifully.

His boar head was long discarded and the warmth of his lips on yours was more than welcome.