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obsessedwrhys · 1 month

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hi baby, you can make an hcs of the characters from The Boys with a Harley Quinn! readers?? With all characters including Soldier Boy

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ THE BOYS X HARLEY QUINN!READER

ᯓ★ looots of goofy shit, dark humour, gore, sensitive topics (abuse, toxic relationships, etc), toxicity, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★ Characters included (I couldn't do everyone so I just did these guys, I know yer kind missy 👴): Homelander, Black Noir (Old and New), Butcher, Soldier Boy

HOMELANDER

He's honestly so fed up with you.

Sure he loves watching you mess with people but he does not like it when YOU DO IT TO HIM!!!

"Quinn!" He'd shout for your name and you'd open the door to see him standing outside your room. You laugh when you see him covered in ketchup. One of your many pranks.

"What?? You needed the upgrade for the suit cupcake" You smiled all innocently.

That being said you LOVE pulling pranks on him.

Whether if it's putting hair dye in his shampoo or stealing his suit so he wakes up searching for it.

It's just your favourite thing to do.

There have been times he's tried to kill you due to his rage but it takes every cell in his body to stop himself because he knows that he's not able to do that.

Because why? Because he thinks you don't even deserve to be killed by him directly.

You disgust him that much.

He just wishes that you weren't such a pain in his ass.

If the pranks weren't bad enough that it had him double checking every item he uses, AKA worsening his trust issues. You've also came up with nicknames to mock his superhero status.

"If it ain't the flying dick!" You'd address his entrance to everybody the moment he walked in the meeting room.

Just imagine him suddenly stop and standing at the door like 🧍‍♂️

If you wanna know more nicknames, we've got captain narcissist, america's buttplug and sperm cell.

Trust you are never sent on safely planned missions, only the ones he knows are highly dangerous in hopes of you dying...

There was this one time he sent you on a suicide mission and he was all proud of himself, but just as he thought he finally got rid of you, the elevator door slides open to reveal you, some fabrics of your clothes were ripped and there were bruises all over your body but it didn't seem to bother you.

"What's up toots?" You'd smile even though your nose was bleeding. That's when he looked down to see the head of the guy he asked for you to assassinate.

Who also happened to be one of the most protected men in the nations by the way.

Like how the fuck did you do it?

You're not even an ACTUAL supe!!

Regardless, he has his respects for you but really why WONT YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE.

PLEASE STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM SO CASUALLY ITS WEIRD??!???!?

ALSO DONT PINCH HIS BUTT!!!

You once did that during a meeting and the sight of him yelping as his body jumps was unforgettable!!

You're JUST like a bee addicted to its pollen. P.S, he's the pollen.

BLACK NOIR (OLD)

He.. doesn't... understand you??

Why do you enjoy showering him with love??

You say it's in your nature but why do you always ask to be carried around the tower??

And why does he obliges each time??

Apparently how your mindset works is that you find extremely deadly things to be adorable.

In this case, he's the extremely deadly thing.

With his silent nature, you just NEEDED to get a reaction out of him.

You tried tickling him or making him sneeze but he always just stares at you in confusion.

You can't see his face but you can tell he's giving you the "What are you doing?" Face.

That's when your bright ass thought of a plan.

A dumb and reckless idea... but hey! You have suicidal tendencies so this is fine!

You'd put yourself in danger on purpose just for him to always come rescuing you. He has lost many body parts when doing so but you could care less, you would give him those heart eyes as he carried you back to Vought in bridal style...

Just for the managers to lock you up in a small prison cell to prevent you from pulling more of these stunts.

Though they were never enough to hold you back.

Naturally there would be rumours in the industry if you two were dating and you never hesitate to push those rumours even more.

Imagine for a premiere for your movie, you'd walk on the red carpet in a dress with Noir beside you, still in his signature suit.

"You're looking real good tonight, handsome. I'm liking what I see" You'd say with your arm wrapped around his. He looks at you as you winked at him seductively.

Someone save this poor boy from your endless flirting.

Jokes aside, there has been times he's seen you in your lowest, like that time you trashed your room with your makeup melted from your tears.

Apparently you got rejected from a movie role you wanted to get so badly. Which was Mario but stupid Chris fucking Pratt got it instead.

Seeing the state you were in, he'd grab you by the shoulders firmly and make you sit down, then putting a blanket around you. He'd leave the room for a couple of minutes... to come back with a bucket of ice cream for you to happily snack on as you rest your head on his shoulder.

BLACK NOIR (NEW)

"EW!! Get this mo'fuckin' bastard away from me!" Literally your words when you heard about the replacement.

Is a bit hurt by your disgust towards him??

But that just means he knows what he's doing right or wrong with this new role.

No because seriously everything he does, he would stop to watch for your reaction, most of the time you are never impressed.

Like how he killed those homelander fans to frame the starlighters. He'd hold the bat, his mask all bloody as he turned to see you, arms crossed, no reaction to his performance.

UNTIL at the end of season 4 where he began killing people within the company, that was what got you to start growing interest in his character.

Even though you're fine with him, for now, you really don't like it when he pushes things.

As in trying too hard to replace the old Black Noir. You just don't fw it 😡

"Hey! Hey! Harley wait up!" He'd call out for you while you ignored him and decided to speed walk away. Anyways, he manages to catch up with you.

"The team wants us to attend the premiere of your next movie together.. since.... y'know... we're rumoured to be dating??" He said and you had to stop walking to put your entire energy into giving him the most NASTIEST look. The second he sees you take a deep breath, he knew it was over.

"I ain't yer GODDAMN babysitter, and don't you think that for a second that wearin' the suit makes you my damn boyfriend, alright? I ain't here to hold yer hand and coddle you. I got better things to do than listen to yer constant whining and need for attention. So knock it off, ya copy-cat!" You'd point at him before walking off, hand on your hip.

You can bet that he asks Deep for advices on how to win your heart.

BRO IS TOO INVESTED IN HIS CHARACTER 😭

That's why he thinks making you fall for him is one of Noir's characteristics.

You love mysterious and threatening looking people? Okay gotcha.

You want hyenas for pets? Cha-Ching! Got it!

But seriously someone please tell him to stop before he gets his ass beat. He does not want that Brooklyn smoke.

BILLY BUTCHER

Ah great another crazy chick.

The only possibility to why you'd be apart of the boys is if someone vouched for you.

50/50 it's either Hughie or Frenchie.

Though surprisingly enough, you were the first to notice the symptoms of his virus. Like he could be fidgeting at the office and you'd point it out so casually that everybody turns to look at you in confusion.

Everybody thought you were crazy at first, it's to be expected, but the second his virus was confirmed to be lethal. Everybody has started to take you a bit more seriously.

Read carefully. A bit.

He finds your weapons fascinating though. Like how your gun has words engraved in it, your initials being the biggest. Not to mention the designs being the inspiration of poker cards.

"That must make you the clown" He once said when you whipped it out to shoot someone. You smile mischievously at his remark.

"Oh you'd better watch your tongue before I make you the punchline of my next joke!"

He likes you.

ONLY if you don't fuck anything up.

Sure you guys do argue a lot but theres also strange moments of understanding between you two.

There was this one time he found you alone in the office, your legs placed on the table and you were literally downing a bottle of alcohol. It was when he came closer that he noticed the bruises on your body.

"What the hell happened to you?" He said and you sniffed as you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm just peachy, tough guy... Can't you see I'm having a little cry-fest over here after a lover's spat with my oh-so-darling ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he just looooves to use me as his personal punchin' bag, y'know? But don't worry 'bout me. I'll be back to my ol' crazy self in no time. Just need a minute to let the tears dry and the bruises heal"

For the rest of the night he'd stay to talk about how shitty both your lives are. You guys actually BOND over your past traumas.

The booze just making the conversation ever more fun.

Will go out of his way to take you to places for shopping or eating at a restaurant to make you feel better.

After understanding you better, he realised you're just a once normal person who became a psychotic sociopath after whatever the supes did to wrong you.

He may not show it to you but he really cares about you and would not hesitate to protect you despite how much he says he wish you'd just fuck off.

SOLDIER BOY

You have to be some kind of masochist right??

He says the most disrespectful shit to you and you just squeal in excitement from it.

It's starting to weird him out.

Everything he does or say, you love to mock him, like he could be giving orders and you'd be at the back using your hands to mimic his talking like a puppet as you mouthed along and made faces.

But he has to say, he finds your insanity amusing. Because deep down, he sees a tiny bit of himself in you.

He calls you Looney Tunes. Why exactly? Nobody knows its for his own entertainment.

He's into older women but that doesn't stop you from flirting with him. He finds your efforts interesting.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Soldier Boy, but I'll get you to crack a smile eventually" You'd say and it'll be enough to have him grinning at you.

"You gonna tickle me?" He'd say, returning the same energy.

But that doesn't mean he's interested in you, he's just toying with you.

AND YOU KNOW IT. But apparently red flags just look like a go flag to you 🤷‍♀️

Despite that, if any other guy did the things he did to you, he would be fast to knock out the fucker. That's because he knows you value loyalty and he does too.

Everything aside, he really appreciates it when at the end where everybody turned against him you stayed by his side. Just imagine him driving the car while you're in the passenger seat singing your heart out to Cherry Bomb by The Runaways.

He'd simply shake his head with a smile on his face.

But the more relationship develops, he'd actually start to show you his softer side. Not soft side. Soft-er side.

Will literally lecture you into standing up more for yourself and stop being a doormat for every man in your life.

How ironic huh?

"You might act all tough and macho, but I see that big, marshmallow heart under there, sweetheart" You'd boop him on the nose that has him rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"You already said that. Are you a broken record or just dim?" He said.

If you stay obedient and don't push the wrong buttons, he might just keep you around.

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souliebird · 5 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 19]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

Frank, admittedly, isn’t as fit as he used to be.

Running through the desert, carrying all his gear, used to be an everyday thing he could do no problem, but now, running through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, he finds his breathing to be a bit labored.

Then again, that might be because he’s pissed off. He, Jones, and Red were in the middle of setting up for a night of surveillance, something Red insisted they do, when the costumed idiot took off into the night without a word.

Normally, Red will give them the damn courtesy of letting them know before he disappears to protect his flock, so him just starting to bolt had Frank and Jones scooping up their shit and following.

One thing Frank’s learned while working with Matt Murdock is to trust the bastard when it comes to his senses - when he says they need to clear out, there is usually a damn good reason to start running. But he has always given a reason or a head’s up - taking off like this must mean something is going down.

Jones gave up trying to keep pace a few blocks back, but Frank is determined to find out what the hell is going on. Red has the advantage of not hauling an additional fifty pounds of gear, and he has taken to parkouring over the roofs, so has gotten about a block and a half ahead.

Frank can keep him in his sights, at least. He’s making a bee-line right towards Chelsea and that’s causing a pit to start to grow in the Marine’s stomach. Not many things override Red’s deep seeded commitment to his city and only one of those things resides outside Hell’s Kitchen.

He adjusts his grip on his bag and forces his legs to move faster.

The buildings around him shift from businesses to residential and about two blocks into the change, Frank knows what set the Devil off.

His little girl is in the middle of the sidewalk, crying hysterically as her mother struggles on the ground against some fat fuck in a business suit. Frank only sees the attacker for a brief second before fury incarnate grabs him by his thick neck and slams him into the ground by Mom’s feet. The sound of a skull being cracked rings clear before it's covered by angry roars and the crunch and squelch of someone’s face being pounded in.

By the Grace of all that is Holy, Red’s baby seems to not care her dad is about to kill a guy and scurries to her Mommy now that she is free. Frank kicks his ass into gear to get there before she can be traumatized anymore.

He doesn’t know if the little girl recognizes him or not, but she doesn’t fight it when Frank picks her up. She clings to him desperately, burying her face against his neck and just sobbing. Instincts he forgot he had kick in and Frank bundles Minnie up in his duster, rocking her and trying to soothe her the best he can.

“Hey, hey, sweet girl, it's okay, it's okay. I gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay, I gotcha.”

Frank cups the back of her head, careful to not tangle his fingers up in her curls and turns her away from her bloody mother. He needs to check on you, to make sure your wounds are something he can handle, and they don’t need to take you to the hospital, but he can’t do that with a crying toddler in his arms.

“He hurt my Mommy!” The baby wails and his heart just about breaks. He wants so badly to join Red in stomping the piece of shit’s head into the pavement for endangering such a precious child, but he knows he can’t. She can’t witness any more than she already has.

As often as Frank takes digs at Murdock for being an altar boy, he can’t let Red’s daughter see him lose control and step over the line he swore to never cross. He’d never forgive himself for causing that trauma for her. So, he hugs the little girl closer, kisses the top of her head, then grunts, “Red!”

Murdock stills mid-punch, his bloody fist raised and ready to continue his punishment. He looks feral - he is snarling, and gore has splashed up onto his face. He is shaking with rage and for a brief moment, Frank can see why he claims to have the Devil in him. Then, just as his little girl cries for her Mom again, control returns to him. Red tilts his head in a way Frank knows he heard something, then he pushes himself up into standing.

Red rips his gloves off, throwing them to the ground, before taking the few steps to clear the gap between him and Frank. He barely starts to rasp out his daughter’s name before she’s turning in Frank’s arms and trying to throw herself to him, sobbing.

“DADDY!”

The noise Red makes is not at all human as he crushes his baby girl to his chest. A new round of loud tears start and Frank knows he has to work quickly before they start attracting attention.

He pulls his duster off and throws it around Red’s shoulders, trying to hide his garish costume. Murdock seems to realize what he’s doing - he curls into it while ducking his horn-head and moving towards the shadows as he comforts his daughter. Frank can’t hear what he’s saying - his voice is low and the crying covers it - but honestly he doesn’t care.

He turns his attention back to your limp body on the ground, dropping down and letting his knowledge of field medicine take over.

Your forehead is bleeding pretty bad, but a quick assessment of the wound tells him it looks worse than it really is. You’ve got a pretty good gash, but it is shallow, and he doesn’t feel any bone breakage under it or swelling. You’ll need a few stitches, and a hell of a lot of ibuprofen, but you won’t need a hospital. You probably passed out from a combination of pain and exhaustion from an adrenaline rush.

Still, Frank checks your neck before deciding to move you, just to make sure it's safe.

As he starts to press his fingers along your spine, Jones finally makes her appearance, jogging up to the scene.

“What the fuck?”

Frank barely looks up as he growls out his reply, focusing on his work while formulating a plan in his head, “It’s his kid.”

“Oh shit,” she replies, then after a beat, “Is he dead?”

Frank barely looks over to the beaten man in question - his chest is still rising and falling so that’s good enough for him. “Nah, not yet. Call it in - then meet us up in her apartment.”

He rattles off the address and apartment number as he scoops you up into a fireman’s carry. He’s glad he doesn’t have far to go, because your weight, plus his gear, isn’t doing any favors to his back. As he gets you situated, Jones steps over to the attacker and nudges him in the side with her boot. His face isn’t recognizable as human, but that isn’t what she comments on.

“What is that smell? Did he shit himself?”

“Fuck if I know, just call it in,” Frank grunts as he begins to trudge towards the right building. “Red, let's go!”

He knows he doesn’t have to explain the plan to Murdock - fucker heard him the first time. Red falls in line and by some miracle, his little girl’s crying has tampered down. She’s still crying - Frank would be more concerned if she wasn’t - but she’s tucked herself close to her Dad and seems to be just more upset than actively terrified. Frank’s got no idea what Murdock could have possibly done to soothe her, but he gives him props for doing it so damn fast.

He can hear Jones calling for an ambulance as they enter into your building, and once in the lobby, Frank wastes no time barking another order, “Take off your helmet.”

That earns him a glare, or what counts as a glare from the Devil, and Murdock uses one hand to pull his cowl off and stuffs it between his chest and his daughter before starting for the stairs. Frank is right at his heel and being so close means he can finally hear what Red is repeating to his girl.

“Just listen to her heart, baby, everything’s okay. You know that sound. Just listen to her heart.”

Frank has a good guess what that means - his theory about passing out from exhaustion and pain is probably correct. If your heart isn’t in crazy panic ‘I’m dying’ mode, you should be fine after a good night’s rest.

The only problem they encounter in the climb up to your apartment is your door. They have to do a weird song-and-dance of Frank turning so Red can get into your purse to get keys while also making sure Minnie can’t see your face. He hasn’t gotten the chance to clean you up in any way and he’s not going to let any little girl see her mom like that if he can help it.

Once they are inside the apartment, Frank goes right to the couch to lay you out. As he does, he says over his shoulder, “I’m gonna call Curt.”

Just because you don’t need a hospital doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a medical professional. Frank knows what he is doing, but he does not trust himself to stitch up your face. Someone with delicate hands needs to do that, and the best person he knows for that is Curt.

Murdock, however, disagrees.

“Call Claire,” he counters firmly.

Frank knows better than to argue - this is Murdock’s family and Frank ain’t got a dog in this fight. So, once you are down, and his gear is dropped, he fishes out his phone to call the feisty nurse. As he does, Red starts back towards what Frank assumes is the bedroom, talking in a sweet tone to his little girl, “It's okay, Frank’s gonna clean Mommy up, then we can go see her. She’s just got a scrape, everything’s okay.”

Frank focuses on his task at hand - as the line rings, he raids the kitchen for washcloths, bowls, and paper towels. He’s on his way back to the couch when Claire finally answers.

“What did he do this time?”

A little smile forms on his lips at her bluntness - he’s always liked Claire and her no-nonsense attitude.

“Ain’t him. His girl got mugged, hit her head pretty good,” he explains, as he dips a washcloth into the water to start on cleaning you up. The cut on your forehead is still bleeding, but only a little by this point. He’ll have to retrace their steps to wipe away any blood droplets, so they don't leave a trail right to your door.

“So, take her to the ER.”

He hums at the response, then adds the crucial element, “His little girl saw it all.”

The line is silent for a good five seconds before Claire is swearing, “I’m on my way. How bad are we talking?”

He feels a little for the nurse at the moment - she’s always having to deal with Red broken and battered and is probably thinking she’s going to have to do some sort of impromptu surgery. He gives a rundown on your injuries, then adds, “Your stitches are nicer than mine.”

“Exactly what a lady wants to hear. How’s the kid?”

“Physically ok, but probably going to have nightmares for a while,” is his honest reply. There wouldn’t be an attacker left to pick up in an ambulance if Minnie had gotten hurt - he would have made sure of that no matter what Red would have said.

Claire groans in response, “I don’t know anything about child psychology, Frank.”

“No one’s expecting you to.”

The nurse may be a miracle worker in the eyes of Red’s little vigilante group, but no one in this world is qualified to deal with all their mental problems.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. You’re lucky I’m on this side of town already.”

Claire hangs up on him and Franks stuffs his phone back into his pocket. He’ll need to call Mirco later to set up a camera on your building, something similar to what he’s got for Karen, and arrange for some background checks on the neighbors. The area seems to be working class just trying to get by, but isn’t that just all of the city now? Even if one drunk-off-his-ass guy just made some stupid decision, it put you and the kid in danger and that is a no-go in Frank’s book. As much Red will huff and puff and growl, his family falls under Frank’s sphere of protection and that isn’t something Frank skimps on.

So, a full security upgrade is in your near future.

But that is something he’ll figure out the details for later on. Right now, he puts his full attention in cleaning you up.

The worst of it is the cut on your forehead. He folds a washcloth and sets it on the wound to help the remaining bleeding stop, then moves onto your cheeks. You’ve got some gravel stuck there, but he doesn’t see any glass or metal. There’s some bruising, but he doesn’t think it will be anything to fuss about - it will fade away within a day or so. He’s seen worse coloring on a hickey. The bastard who attacked you didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, or he was too sloshed out of his mind to be coordinated.

Overall, you are just pretty banged up.

But nonetheless, Frank takes care to make sure it just looks like you are resting, even putting the throw blanket left on the couch over you to hide the grime stains on your clothes.

Red and his creepy bat ears must be listening, because as soon as he goes to dump the bloody cleaning water, he’s coming out of the bedroom with Minnie. She’s still in his arms, clinging to his neck like a koala, but her tears have stopped. She’s still sniffling, though.

Frank hangs back as the little girl is brought to her Mommy and his heart damn near breaks again when she starts talking.

“She’s just sleeping?”

“She’s just sleeping,” Red confirms. He carefully kneels down beside you and makes slow, exaggerated movements as he puts his hand over your heart. “You can feel, too. Just sleeping.”

He watches as the tiny little girl untangles herself from her father and stretches to put her hand next to his. She scrunches up her nose and gets a look Frank has seen a million times on Red.

“Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Exactly, boom. Boom. boom. The same heart-noises Mommy makes when she sleeps.”

They stay like that for a few seconds before little hands go up to your face and Minnie is examining your cuts.

“He hurt Mommy,” she says so softly that Frank wants to stomp back downstairs and unload his Glock into the asshole. “She has ouchies.” She turns so quickly in Red’s arm that Frank sees him jump just a little - probably still on high alert - and she slaps both her hands on his cheeks, “You have to kissy it better.”

Her voice is so serious and demanding, he’s surprised Red doesn’t instantly comply. Instead, he kisses his little one’s forehead.

“A doctor is going to come and make sure all her ouchies are taken care of. Then we can kiss it better.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Her curls bounce as the little girl whips around to address Frank, ordering in the same voice, “You have to kissy it better, too.”

He damn well knows better than to argue with a three year old girl - Lisa could put him in his place like no one's business - so Frank simply nods with a, “Yes, ma’am.” Red doesn't look thrilled at the agreement, but he's not the one who's opinion Frank cares about.

Her brown eyes sus him out, narrowing a fraction before he passes whatever criteria she has and Minnie turns back to her mother and father. “When is she gonna wake up?”

“She'll wake up when she's done resting,” Murdock gently advises. “She needs lots of rest right now.”

Frank knows what question is coming before it is even asked. It is the universal toddler question.

“Why?”

Red, it seems, needs to spend more time with his kid because he looks completely baffled by the question. He repeats the word, which just gets parroted back at him, and Frank can practically hear Lisa and Frankie chanting along with her.

Why?

Why would you need lots of rest in a way a terrified toddler would get it? There's a slight hint of panic in Red’s sightless eyes as he fights to find an answer and Frank takes pity on him.

He steps forward and asks the little girl, “Have you ever played really hard then needed a nap after?”

Attention swings back to him but this time he is prepared for it. Minnie considers his question, then nods, and Frank gives her a soft, friendly smile. “Same thing, sweetheart. Your Mommy’s body worked really hard and now she needs a nap.”

“She needs a nap,” the baby replies and then, to his amusement, proceeds to stuff her fingers into her mouth and suck on them. He's got no idea what that means, but Red’s shoulders relax a fraction, so he assumes it's a good thing.

He wonders if she's starting to get tired now that the action is over. He can't imagine why they were out in the first place, but he has to guess it was to get something from the store. That is his experience with bringing a baby in their pajamas out at night - there was something needed that couldn't wait until morning. That would also explain the black bag in your purse.

He looks to Red and his girl - Murdock has sat himself on the floor beside the couch, facing you, and Minnie is tucked in his lap, sucking her fingers still. Both of their focus seems to be on you. So, Frank lets curiosity get the better of him and he goes to snoop.

There’s a bottle of Pedialyte nestled inside the bag, and by the tiny bit missing, he has a feeling he knows who it is for. He looks from it, over to the sweet child sitting in Red’s lap, and decides she probably still needs it if her mom went out in the middle of the night for it. So, he turns his snooping to the kitchen and opens and closes cabinets until he finds the one holding sippy cups. All of them have Braille labels on them and he briefly wonders what each says before grabbing one with Big Bird on it. He gives it a good rinse before filling it up halfway with the blue liquid.

He removes his tactical vest before he heads back to the living room. He thinks of it more of a sign for Red than Minnie. The little girl might be scared of the skull art, but he hopes it will help Murdock relax. He’s putting on a good face for his daughter, but Frank can see the tension in his jaw and how on edge and angry he must be, and he can’t be blamed. He knows how emotional Red can get and he’s surprised he’s managing to keep it together - so subtly letting him know ‘there’s no danger here’ and Frank isn’t a threat to his family might just get him to stop grinding his teeth.

He approaches slowly and somewhat loudly, while holding out the sippy cup, “Here you go, sweetie.”

Minnie blinks up at him with those wide brown eyes and he can see the exhaustion starting to creep in - getting a bottle might just knock her out. He has to lean down so she can take it, but as soon as she does, her hand drops from her mouth and she politely mumbles, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

“What is it?” Murdock questions, nose twitching to try to figure out the smell. Frank doubts he’s familiar with the drink, but soon he’ll have it memorized.

“Blue Pedi-lyte,” the baby grumbles before the spout goes right into her mouth and she starts to nurse it. Almost instantly she starts leaning back against Red’s chest and Frank knows right away she’ll be asleep within minutes.

He checks his phone as he goes to take a seat at the kitchen table. Claire should be here any minute and it's a toss up if Jones comes up or not. He’ll wait until everything is all settled to head out - he does want to make sure you are okay and he’s not going to leave Claire alone with an upset kid and her Dad-devil.

Frank brings up his texts to Karen to start typing out that the op is a bust, when Murdock’s quiet voice interrupts his train of thought.

“Thank you, Frank.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Red. It’s your family. You don’t gotta explain that to me.”

“Still, thank you, Frank. I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Murdock.”

---

a/n: frank has entered the chat and assumed Alpha Dad role. his family now.

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"

and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?

That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."

And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?

We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.

Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.

Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!

I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.

I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!

I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.

There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.

A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?

I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.

You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.

Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"

We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.

As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"

#nature #community #plants #gardening #you are not separate from every other thing #the wonders #caretaking #plantarchy

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stevie-petey · 8 months

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episode two: trick or treat, freak

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t. Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol

Words: 7.9k

Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !

The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween.

Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair.

“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat.

“Eat.”

“But my proton blaster–”

“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop.

“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”

You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve.

Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures.

“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”

You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”

“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face.

It’s a happy morning.

Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible.

You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song.

“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road.

Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”

Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.”

Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion.

“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff.

“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”

–

At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook.

As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you.

“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you.

You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”

“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean.

“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it.

Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.”

You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing.

Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”

Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady.

“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.

“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you.

You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.”

Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different.

You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve.

–

Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her english essays.

It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.

Today though there’s something off with Nancy.

She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,”

“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”

Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener.

You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks.

“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them?

“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle.

“It’s… complicated.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.”

Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”

When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her.

“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”

Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”

Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”

“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”

You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill.

“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more.

She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did.

As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain.

Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?”

“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.”

“Did he notice you were upset?”

“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply.

You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”

“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”

“Nancy…”

“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.

Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.”

“Y/N–”

“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”

Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”

“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before.

You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”

Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her.

Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy.

“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”

“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so.

Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet.

You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.

–

Halloween is in full swing the second Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy.

“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”

“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.”

“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight.

It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.

You stand in front of your mirror and smile.

It’s perfect.

You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her.

Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that.

The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess.

Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.

“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door.

You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”

Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”

“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”

You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”

“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”

“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”

He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside.

Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress.

Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”

He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”

You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor.

He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup.

Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”

His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined.

Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.

For now, he’s still yours.

“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed.

You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”

“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile.

“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.”

Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.

“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?

You blink. “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs.

Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”

“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him.

You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a sixteen year old.”

Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling.

How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?

You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing.

Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.

Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own.

“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”

“9:30?”

You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”

“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”

“We made the right choice, right?”

“I hope so.”

Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.

“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”

“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”

“We are?”

“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”

“Nancy begged you to come–”

You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”

–

The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away.

Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”

“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”

“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”

“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”

“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at.

As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house.

“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”

“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan.

Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan.

Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?”

“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”

“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”

The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”

Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him.

You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips.

Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then.

Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.

Shit.

You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.

“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.

Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away.

“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her.

“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”

Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.”

He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place.

How fun.

You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do.

As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.

“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose.

“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?”

Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near.

Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”

“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”

At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”

You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent.

“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly.

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”

You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”

“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole.

“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him.

“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.

Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.

Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.”

A silence falls over the crowd.

Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.”

“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.”

Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”

They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”

Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”

Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”

Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here.

“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”

Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards.

Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”

Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”

Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”

You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this.

“I’ll drive Steve home.”

Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them.

You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone.

“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”

“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”

Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.

–

When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty.

But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.

Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”

He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand.

Okay. You deserved that.

When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips.

You start to drive.

Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone.

“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.

“Make a left up here.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”

Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”

“I…” You can’t.

Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”

Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”

“Yeah, scared.”

“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”

You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”

Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”

“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”

“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine.

“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere.

But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.

Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried.

As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”

“Steve…”

“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.”

Nancy lied about loving him?

Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.”

You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go.

“You won’t leave me again?”

Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never.

And it’s enough for now.

The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours.

Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.

Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now.

Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan.

“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.”

You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.

“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”

Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”

Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”

“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.

Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night.

It’s a start.

It’s all you could’ve asked for.

Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve.

“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

“What–”

“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”

Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”

“Nah, you just have to trust me.”

“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation.

You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”

Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care.

For now, he’s content.

Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand.

–

The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”

Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”

You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you.

However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”

“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”

Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”

He’s definitely acting suspicious.

“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”

You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!

“What?” You freeze.

Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”

“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing.

“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”

Dart lets out a small screech in response.

“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”

Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.

You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been.

Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.

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the-kr8tor · 3 months

Text

What is Normal for the Spider is Chaos to the Fly

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7 k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, CW violence and gore, CW blood, TW death, CW guns, CW food mention.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 3 >>> CHAPTER 4

Eyes closed, you breathe in the fresh spring breeze, the first of many this season. Pollen makes your nose itch, bees buzz around the field of flowers, yellow dots kissing the soft petals. A babbling brook sits near you, perfect spherical rocks worn down by the waters makes you want to skip them across the transparent clean water where fish lie and swim right under the currents.

The bright sun above shines down on you, its light fighting through your eyelids and through the canopy of the oak tree. Its strong trunk provides the perfect back rest, the wood is stable and protective of your relaxed form. Like the softest carpet, the green grass below is splayed under you. Blades of grass and wildflowers swaying amidst the wind just like how your lashes flutter with every soft blow of the cool air.

“Why'd you stop?” Hobie asks from below. You crack open your eyes to see his lopsided smile, jade eyes crinkling in the corners. His head is resting on your lap, fingers absentmindedly playing a tune on the beaten up guitar on his chest. There's flowers in his hair, courtesy of you. “C’mon, lovie, I was just starting to fall asleep.”

You chuckle, and he smiles wider. The sun bathes you in its glow, a halo of light around your head, a heavenly sight for a mere mortal. “You're spoiled you know.” You realize your fingers are in his hair, soft fingertips paused on his skin. Your vision goes blurry, with a blink, everything shifts back. “So spoiled.”

“Says the one who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.” He says it with no ounce of malice.

“How'd you know about spoony?” You joke, he laughs, a sound better than anything you've ever heard of. “How was work?”

“Lonesome, you didn't come by.” You tilt your head, lips pursing into a soft smile. “Do I still smell like gunpowder to you?”

“No, you smell like flowers.”

“Is it too late to say that I'm allergic to ‘em?”

You giggle, “No you're not. You haven't even sneezed.” Grabbing a daisy from his hair to wiggle it under his nose, his face scrunches up comedically, and then he fakes a sneeze. The loudness of it startles the birds nesting by the branches, wings fluttering rapidly further away.

“Good job, you scared the birds.” You look down at him, hand inching closer to the daisy ring you've made a while ago.

“What? I can't sneeze?” His eyes are glued to you, the sun paints a pretty picture of his viridescent eyes shining in the light.

With a deep inhale, you take his hand away from the guitar, slipping the flower ring you've been itching to place on his finger. Hobie seems to freeze up either in your touch or the sight of the makeshift ring. You show him your hand, an identical white flower whose stems are wrapped gingerly around your middle finger.

“Ta dah.” You say shyly. The tightness around your chest clenches at his silence. “I'll take it off, I'm sorry. I thought—”

Hobie quickly reaches up to shield the ring away from you, “No, don't—it’s brilliant. Thank you.” You beam at him as he intertwines his fingers around your own, the rings in full display. “Suits me, I think. But it looks better on you.” You inhale, the comfortable warmth is replaced by icy air. Everything shifts.

The breeze is colder now, the grass is frozen under your feet, frost clinging to each blade. The canopy is no more, only dark angled branches with tiny leaves hang off the precious oak tree. A puff of smoke billows out of your dry lips, Hobie hugs you closer, hand rubbing up and down your arm, body heat shielding you from frost bite.

“Cold?”

“Yes, very.” You shiver, and he holds you closer. “This sunset better be worth it, Hobie, I had to put down a really good botanical book for this.” You say, cheek pressed atop his chest, breath warming his neck. You'd choose him over any book.

“First sunset of the season, love. It's worth it, I promise.” Without a second thought, he takes his coat off to place it over your shivering shoulders. You huddle closer, wrapping yourself around him. Sharing your warmth.

Blue slowly ebbs away as he pulls you closer. The clouds part ways for red and orange, pink splashes across the sky, a watercolour painting that leaves you gasping for air. Or was it his lips upon yours for the first time that has you heaving for air?

Hobie kisses you with the gentleness only a lover could provide, yet with the tentativeness of someone who isn't sure you'd kiss back. The pads of his fingers brush along your jaw, ghosting over your flustered flesh. With a sigh and a pull on his jacket collar, you kiss back. Lips pecking the corner of his own, clouds of smoke mixing in, hands warm on your searing cheeks— he slowly leads you towards the same oak tree. Your back hits the wood with an almost silent thump, his hand protecting the back of your head. Eyes closed, you memorize his lips by kiss alone. Your hands knead at his nape, he shivers not from the cold.

“I'm in love with you.” He says it confidently, like he's been saying it to himself for years. He feels like he has.

“I've been waiting to hear you say that.” Your eyes meet his own in a dance. Eyes flicking down to his lips, jade eyes looking between your blown out eyes and your quivering lips. “I've been in love with you. For a really long time.” You feel his lips open, mouthing the three words back against your own. It's barely above a whisper but you know that he'll scream it if you asked.

A flash of his warm hands around your own, a glimpse of a knife carving yours and his initials on the wood that you both call home. A muffled promise lingers in your ears, soft, just like his lips on yours.

You open your eyes and you see him above you. Hobie pinches your nose with a laugh, calloused fingertips squeezing lovingly at you, emerald eyes swimming with affection. The warm air passes by, humidity stuck in your nose. The sweat of your brow is quickly wiped away by him.

“Stop sayin' that, yeah?” You don't remember what you said. “You're bloody gorgeous, she doesn't know real beauty even if it hits her powdered arse.”

“Hobie!” You laugh, hands planted on his hips, the fabric of his shirt is hitched up for easy access. “She's still my aunt, and my legal guardian.”

“Unfortunately.”

Your smile agrees with him, but if you say it out loud you're afraid that the ground will swallow you alive and Hobie will be ripped away from you.

“It's a nice day today, you plannin’ on gropin’ me the whole afternoon?”

“Yep!” You look down at where his hands are placed, palms cupping you right above your ribs. “You planning on doing the same to me?”

“Say otherwise and I'll take my hands away from you—”

“No!” You say quickly before he could finish.

Hobie guffaws loudly, face leaning closer to yours. You close your eyes, expecting the expected. Instead, his head falls on the crook of your neck, blowing warm air into your skin.

Your laughs echoes around the clearing, fading into the sound of leaves crunching under your footsteps.

Orange leaves fall down on you like rain, a puff of breeze settles in your muscles, rattling your bones. Despite the cold, you inch your way closer to him, his smile beckons you over, grassy spring coloured eyes lighting up at the mere sight of you. His back resting on the strong oak tree that carries both your names.

“You know, we could always meet up at your place now that you're the up and coming associate.” You hold your hand out towards him, his fingers slide on your palm so naturally that you think you're made for eachother. “We can stop sneaking around now thanks to you.”

Hobie feels like he can finally breathe once he has his hands on you. He twists your wrist gently, leaning down, he presses a quick kiss on your pulse, eyes meeting your own. Years of being together, and he still makes your heart race.

Warm lips on your skin, he pecks it again for good measure before leaning away and pulling you closer. His hands are around your hip, while you wrap yours over his shoulders. “We could. But even after all my hard work, your aunt still doesn't—won't approve of us together. I'm me and you're you, love. What would they say when they see their heiress skulkin’ around the harbour, hm?”

“They won't say anything because I'm good at skulking around.”

“Or they'd say you're hurtin' your prospects of a good husband.”

“Fuck them! You and my garden are all I need.”

He calls your name solemnly, “we have to face the fact that—”

“What? That I'll be stuck in a loveless marriage in the near future?” You shake your head. “I refuse.” A humourless laugh breaks through.

“Good thing you said that or this will be awkward.” Hobie takes out a pair of gold rings from his pocket, it shimmers in the sunset, cold metal upon his warm trembling hands. “It took me a hundred days to save up for them, they're scraps from the factory. All melted together to make a pair.”

“Y–you're stealing from us now?” You could barely finish your joking sentence with the sob fighting to escape your throat.

Hobie laughs, a breathy one that has you mentally making up another joke just to hear it again. “Been at it since they hired me.” He hands you one, not sliding it down your finger, no, he places it right in the middle of your palm. “Remember those daisy rings you made years ago?” You nod, eyes brimming with tears. “I've made ‘em real this time. But the next one would be pure gold, none of the mixed ones I've melted with it.” He bounces on the balls of his feet as you glance at the gold ring that is a hodgepodge of different shades of yellow gold. Some seem to be darker, some lighter. “You deserve real ones.”

“You could make me a ring out of grass and wood, and I'll still wear it everyday.” Taking the ring, you slide it into your middle finger, a promise, he says in your ears, a promise, you repeat against his lips as you slip his own ring around his finger. A promise you both carved out into the tree and into your hearts, a promise that you'd carve out into your skin if you could.

The smell of burning wood wakes you up with a start, You've woken up with tears trapped in your eyelashes.

Your eyes open to a boiling pot of brown liquid. It's familiar, awfully so that you've hated it, it reminds you of someone you'd rather not remember. Looking up at the sky that is darkened to a pale blue, turning the orange and green plains into its royal colour— The roaring open fire is the only bright thing in sight, a yellow glow amidst all the bitter blue.

The amber flames screams among the dead silence and the vast emptiness, ‘Someone’s here! Someone’s alive over here!’ yet, you don't feel like you are.

You cough from the cold, throat itching from dryness. Lifting your hands up to tug the blanket further up, you now notice the deep crescent moons left on your palms. Some even bled through the night, dried blood decorating the lines on your palms and under your fingernails.

“You're awake. Good.” Hobie's voice hits you like a carriage, sleep ridden mind still hazy. For a second you thought that you're still dreaming of him. But his solid form and smoke from his cigarette resting on a stone says he's real. Your mind can't dream of something so tethered to reality like this. “You want some?” He rattles the now empty tin cup, brown liquid dripping from the rim to the ground below.

“You're offering me a cup?”

He furrows his pierced brows. “‘course, there's plenty.”

“No, thank you. Do you have something to eat instead? Or water?” Sitting up, you wipe the sleep off your eyes. Your joints hurt, stomach gurgling, and ankle aching. You hate it here, he's the only one that's making everything bearable even though he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than be with you. It still hurts, thinking that he does.

“Yeah.” Standing up with a groan, it seems like sleep didn't agree with him either. There's bags under his eyes, worsened by the shadow from the brim of his hat. Taking something from his pack on Buckeye, who still slumbers quietly, he holds out a canteen and a piece of dried meat wrapped in cloth. “‘ere.” The familiar scar on the back of your hand has him reeling away. He remembers the day you got it, he remembers how his hand trembled as he stitches your hand back together.

“Thank you.” You say, stiffly smiling. He nods, returning back to his seat.

Breakfast went over fast, with dawn turning into morning, and the crisp air warming down, you take the blanket off your shoulders. Bucky trotts on the road, coyotes chirp on your left and a tumbleweed passes by on your right. It feels like you and Hobie are the only people on the road, or even in the whole world.

You clear your throat, attempting to break the quiet after riding for hours in absolute silence. “So…are you an outlaw? A mercenary for hire, or even a trapper?”

“‘m one of those things, yes.”

“So mysterious. You know you're still an open book to me.” Looking over your shoulder, he grabs your chin to make you look away and to keep your eyes on the dirt road. To which you laugh at. “Yep, still an open book.” It's true that you still know him for the man that he was, but there's missing pieces of him in your mind. You intend to dive to find the pieces so you could piece together who he is today. Before you go home, before you part forever again.

“How would you know?” Hobie tamps down a smile even though you won't be able to see it. “Maybe I've changed in those five years.”

“Oh you have.” You'd know. “But I can still see through you. I know you, Hobart Brown. Or did you also change your name too?”

“It's Larry now.”

“You serious?” Looking behind, you see him sporting a smirk. A smile spreads across your lips at his playfulness, a semblance of the Hobie you once knew.

“For example?” He asks, something he might regret. “What do you see through me?”

“Well, you put this big bad façade up because it's what everyone expects you to be. But in truth, it's so you could survive here. I bet it's working well since you're still here breathing.”

“I don't care what anybody thinks, Y/N.”

“I know that too. But you still do it because you don't want them talking to you, coming close to you. I remember how hard it was to even get you to speak to me.”

“I was a kid, we were children, and I was new in town.”

“I got you to talk though. Still proud of myself that I got to see the real you.” You puff out your chest. “This place is just like our old town, you know. Harsher, yes, but this time you don't bother to try, not like last time.” Your voice lowers into a murmur. He knows why he doesn't bother, because there's no one out here that could get him out of his walled up shell just like you did. There's no one like you. “I still know you, after all these years. Even if you think I don't, or at least the version of you that you left me with.” The sky gets darker, grey clouds floating next to white fluffy ones, and you still remember how he held you the first time you shared a bed. “You've changed and I confess that I barely know this side of you. I don't know what happened to you in those five years but could you let me try to get to know you again? Just like last time?”

The clouds above darken his green eyes, something passes by them, something that has his hands gripping tighter around the reins.

“It's goin’ to rain.” Is all he could say. “We should hurry and find shelter, there's a shortcut I know.”

You inhale the sharp familiar smell of petrichor, letting it settle in your lungs, letting it drown you, letting it seep through your skin so you can focus on it rather than the flatness of his voice that lacks what you're used to.

“Sure,” you swallow thickly, nails digging into your hemp bindings instead of your flesh.

Hobie clicks his tongue thrice, a sharp almost whistle, and out runs Bucky faster on the sandy lonesome road. Hooves thudding like the rumble of the heavens above, a lightning storm races behind you, sparks of light flashing and clashing on the mountainous rocks of the west.

“Hold on,” Hobie whispers close to the shell of your ear, goosebumps spreading through you like poison ivy on skin. He leans forward, leather clad body shielding you from the harsh howling winds that approaches quickly. “This storm's comin' in fast.”

Wind whips your cheeks, cool air making you narrow your eyes into slits to protect it from the dusty debris. A silhouette of a person appears at the end of the road, you feel Hobie stiffen up from the suspicious man. Arms cage you in, the mysterious man's shadow gets closer and closer as Bucky whines and halts to a stop. Hobie hides your hands with his own, a small act that brings your mind a minute of peace.

“State your business.” Hobie says in a practiced tone, commanding like the one he used with the man who snatched you.

The old man walks with a twisted cane, a makeshift one made from an old branch. His eyes are dull and almost silver, blue rings around his irises, eyebrows thick and white, beard bushy and hair almost gone. Right behind him lies a dip in the road, a chasm from where you sat, a deep gorge from what you surmise. Right next to the road sits a dingy solemn cabin, roof looking like it's about to collapse under its own weight, hinges creaking, window shutters opening and closing harshly from the wind. A border collie barks at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, warning you of something to come.

“Just ‘ere to warn you, son.” The old stranger trembles, either from the cold or from his bad leg. “Anyone who come ‘ver down that road doesn't come out unscathed.” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his yellowed shirt. “Just tryin' be a good samaritan.”

“Yeah? Penance for the war then?” You give Hobie a look. He glances over to you in return.

“I was on yer side, son. I won't be out ‘ere warnin’ you and the missus if I wasn't now eh?”

“Thank you for the warning.” You pipe up, the brief silence has made the whole situation more awkward. “We'll try another route then—”

“No,” Hobie stands his ground, “just like she said, thank you for the warnin’ but that's the closest route to Strawberry.”

The man takes his hat off even with the intense shaking of his hand. He then places it on his chest like he's already mourning you. “Safe travels. Don't say I didn't warn ya.” With a whistle, the dog runs over to him before helping him walk home.

“Wait!” The man stops in his tracks, even the dog turns around to face you. “A storm's coming, you'll be cold. Here.” Sliding your hands away from Hobie's, you take the blanket from your lap.

“My eyes are bad but do I see you givin' me your coat?” He smiles toothily.

“Y/N—” Hobie warns.

“Yes, but it's a blanket, not a coat.” The man chuckles deeply, cheeks red and warm.

He whistles again, and the dog walks over to you. “Give it ‘ere to ol' Nellie.” The dog wags her tail, tongue lolling.

“Hi, Nellie,” you giggle as you lean down to place the fabric in her mouth. “Take good care of it. Good girl.” Hobie's hand is holding your waist, single handedly preventing you from falling over.

He remembers your kindness, how you don't falter when you see someone you can help. You're unequivocally kindhearted, a stark contrast to himself, and what he has become in those five years he wasn't by your side. He remembers how much he loved and longed for you. He needs to know who sent the letter on his behalf, but it can wait, maybe he'll thank them when he does find them.

You don't notice him look at you with the same expression he had years ago.

With a happy wag of her tail, Nellie skips over to her owner, handing him your blanket. “Thank you, miss, you've got a kind soul.” There's warmth in your chest, nodding towards the man. “You take care now. And you.” He looks over your companion. “Better watch her back and protect her kind soul eh?”

“Get inside, don't want you gettin' my blanket drenched.”

A laugh billows out as he waves you away. Entering his humble abode with a loud bang of his door.

“I think we should listen to him.” You say above the winds.

“We'll be fine,” Hobie's voice is softer. “I've been ‘ere before. Just listen to me, yeah?” He kicks gently, and Bucky takes his cue to run in the same direction again.

“If I listened to you back there then the poor man would've shivered from the cold.”

“And now you'll be the one shivering from the cold.”

“He needed it more than I did.” You almost scoff as you hold on tighter around the horn of the saddle while Bucky trudges downward on the slope and into the gorge.

“Don't expect me to get you a new one.”

Now you scoff. “Then don't.” Yet, your chest clenches from his words.

Buckeye finally slows down halfway through the gorge. Hobie inhales deeply, jade eyes flicking above the rocks. The walls seem to close in on you, fifty foot tall walls of ancient stone looming over you. A stream runs along the path, murky brown water splashing with every movement.

“Why'd you slow down—?” Your eyes widen at the moving figures above. “There's people up there.” You whisper as you watch them observe you. The bows on their back gather your attention, eyes piercing through you than the sharpest of arrows. Hobie suddenly grabs your chin, still gentle but with a sense of urgency this time. He turns your head towards the road, rough leather sliding from your chin to your hands.

“Keep your eyes on the road. And keep your mouth shut.”

“Will they let us pass?”

“Yes.” He says immediately.

“Do you know them?”

“Yes, now keep quiet.” Tipping the brim of hat in respect, you do as you're told. “Or they'll be the one askin' me questions. And we don't have time for friendly banter.”

When he says those words, you hear a whisper of his name from above, then a bout of laughter echoing downwards. Subtly looking over your shoulder, you see him crack a small smile.

You turn back towards the road, a soft morose smile on your lips from how much you've missed from his life. You want to know what happened to him in those five years, to be told stories of his adventures under the campfire. To be part of those stories once more, not whatever you're in with him. An afterthought, a burden.

You're starting to feel all the love he once gave you was just from your mind. Made up by you, dreamt and imagined.

—

The cave you've found shelter in is perfect. It's big enough to house you and Hobie, even Bucky rests inside, dry and happy while his dark eyes follow you— as if trying to keep an eye out for you. The cave protects you from the hammering rain outside and from the lightning that pierces the clouds. You lean on the rocky mouth of the cave, hands reaching outside to cup the rain and feel the sharp water droplets drench your skin. Lifting your head up, you watch the sky. The storm has no end in sight, yet, there’s a bit of light passing through the grey, a ray of sunshine that brings hope, blue peeking in between the dark clouds.

Water splashes against your flesh, cleaning the tiny gashes and dried blood that you're not sure is all from your body. The rope that binds you is soaked, weighing heavy around your wrists like steel bracelets.

Wind howling, lightning cutting through the sky like a bullet through skin— You don't feel his heavy gaze on you.

The roaring fire behind you provides warmth just like the man tending to it. And like the fire he's tending, he realizes that his affection for you still burns him inside out no matter how he tries to snuff it out.

The fire crackles, you watch your shadow dance with the flame's movements. You still don't feel his heavy stare on your back.

With a forced smile, an idea pops in your head. You let the water on your palms fall, flicking away the droplets, making your own patch of rain.

“I've got a proposition.”

“Come eat, smelly” You both speak at the same time, amusement flashes behind his precious emerald eyes that's illuminated by the embers.

"I don't smell." You laugh in between, loving the fact that he seems to be in a better mood. Sniffing at yourself, you scrunch up your nose from the smell. "That much. You're not any better.”

Hobie shakes his head, hiding the curl of his lips with the brim of his hat. He places a can of peaches in your direction. “We'll be in Strawberry by late afternoon. There's an inn there where we can rest and bathe.”

Sitting down next to him but still giving him enough space, you tuck your legs under you, wiggling your hands in front of him.

“Can you untie me now? I'm not going to run, Hobie. Where will I go?”

“Tell me about your so-called proposition.” Hobie raises a brow, teeth biting down and clenched around the leather before fully yanking his glove off. You suddenly feel hot when he unties your hands without another word.

There's no identical ring around his finger. Your happiness is snatched away at the sight of his empty finger. What was once a promise is now gone from his flesh that you used to trace with your own hands.

Clearing your throat, you watch the shadows on the cave walls flicker behind him. “W–we take the scenic route. I want to see the sights the new world has to offer. Before returning.” You don't even want to call it home anymore.

“The new world? You sound like a grandma.”

“You saying ‘state your business’ wasn't any better, grandpa.”

Hobie's eyes meet your own, green eyes aglow. A remnant of the Hobie five years ago. You could get used to this, his warm gaze that soothes you from the inside out, something that you never took for granted before but never thought you'd miss dearly. You welcome it back with open arms. Even if it was brief.

A flash of bright lightning hits outside your cave, startling you, free hand placed on your quaking chest.

“It's just lightning, love.” A freudian slip, a term of endearment that travels you both back in time. Now that he said it once more, he finds that it still fits you like a warm hug on a cold winter's day, or a first kiss, one of many.

Slowly turning your head, your lips tremble, eyes watering from a silent cry. You try to reach for him, but he deflects your touch by twisting around on his seat, taking a swig from his canteen. The only one that he has.

Quietly eating, your insides are yelling for you to hold him close, to be near him, to hug him until the screaming stops. You can't satiate the feeling, it bites at your bones, chewing, eating at you, going hungry, starving. You stand up, leaving the can of peaches on the ground, returning to the mouth of the cave so the feeling will ravage you alone once again like it always has for the past five years. You've survived this long, but there's barely anything left of you now— a husk, barely a speck, so you cry and cry, sobs muffled by the rain.

You don't feel his gaze on you. He feels the same gnawing feeling in his belly, crawling up to his chest, eating what's left of his heart like a vulture that carries all his grief and guilt.

—

You're back on the road again, the ground is wet and muddy. Clay and grass sticking to Bucky's hooves as he trudges along the soil. You purposely don't remind him about the missing rope around your wrist. Loving the freedom the lack of it brings, you brush your fingers through Buckeye’s hair; dark wavy tresses that reminds you of fine silk.

“You take good care of him.”

“You said that already.”

“I know, I'm just saying it again for emphasis. I hope you're taking care of yourself too.”

You feel him shift in his seat, fatigue rattling his bones that's exacerbated by the rocking movement.

“Do you feel alright?” You ask, looking over your shoulder. His eyebrows are furrowed, sweat dribbling from his forehead.

“‘m fine.”

“You don't look fine. Riding bareback this long hurts, we can switch places—”

“It would be better if you had your own horse.” Hobie groans, stretching his shoulders. Buckeye seems to notice the conversation, huffing and staring back at his rider. “‘m not replacing you, Bucky. Not yet anyway.”

The dark horse neighs, a high pitched sound that makes you laugh. “He was not happy with that.”

“He's not happy with anythin'” Hobie shakes his head at the horse, you're amused by the whole situation. “Picky eater, always demanding sugar cubes instead of a carrot or an apple. Fuckin' spoiled.” Bucky neighs again, louder this time, clearly annoyed.

“Just like his rider.” You giggle, Hobie stifles a roll of his eyes, a ghost of a smile on his pierced lips. “Careful with your comments or he might buck you off and have me as his rider instead.”

Hobie's amusement fades, his eyes hardens, a sight that has your heart thrumming loudly, a sight that you're very familiar with back at home.

“I‘m sorry— I–I didn't mean to.” You frantically apologize, shaking your head, hand reaching for his own, palm hovering over his gloves.

“Look ahead.” He gestures forward. “Nothin' to apologize for, love.”

“Are you sure?” You can't seem to slow down your breathing.

Hobie notices, blinking, he tentatively takes your hand in his. Squeezing once, jade eyes searching your hurt face. Guilt passes through him.

He should've come back for you.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, slowing down Bucky's steps. “Breathe for me, yeah?” You nod, inhaling and exhaling. “Good, keep doin' that.” Inhale, exhale, “atta girl. Now listen to me, I need you to hold on tight, and do what I say.”

“What's wrong?” Did you do something wrong again? You hold on tight just like he asked.

“Eyes up front, sweetheart.” The floodgates open, he can't stop himself from calling you those honeyed names. And you can't stop looking at him. With a gentle hold to your chin, he carefully moves it forward. You see five people waving you over further down the road. They're accompanied by a broken down carriage, three wheels missing, no oxen in sight, just a few horses hitched near them.

They call you over, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh thank God!” You hear them say, their forms getting closer and closer.

“They need help.” You say, Hobie's hand around the reins tightens.

“And we're not goin' to give it to ‘em.”

“What? Why?”

“That's bait, we're not fallin’ for it.” His eyes don't leave the strangers’ hands.

“Bait—? They genuinely look like they need help.”

“We're close to town, and they have horses. They could've gone over there instead of flagging down an armed stranger.”

“I'm not armed.”

“Yes, but I am.” With a swift kick, Hobie guides Buckeye to a mad dash. Your back hits his chest from the sudden momentum. A dull ache on your spine, a tingling sensation on his ribs.

Buckeye passes by the broken carriage, leaving dust in their eyes. “C’mon, Bucky! Get us out of ‘ere, boy!”

Wind in your eyes, you look behind, your heart falls in your stomach when you see them follow immediately on their horses, guns drawn, aiming at Hobie.

“Oh fuck!” A bullet whizzes past your head, missing you by just a few inches. You feel it's hot searing metal fly past, “they're shooting at us! Why the fuck—!”

Hobie twists, with one hand on the reins, and the other on his gun, he shoots down one man with precision. The bullet hits its mark, right in his heart. A fountain of crimson splashes from his wounded body, his feet still strapped in the stirrups, flinging the now lifeless body around like a window shutter in a storm.

Hobie shoots again, a horse falls, another bullet, and one gets iron in their gullet. And another and another, one on the leg and one on the shoulder, but they still ride on. Until Hobie's gun clicks, its chamber now empty, in slow motion, you see the remaining survivors use the opportunity to aim at Hobie's head. With quick thinking, you twist uncomfortably, body stretching behind to grab the hunting rifle strapped on Bucky's back. Within a second, you sit upright with the barrel pointing at them.

Hobie sees it all happen while he frantically reloads. His gun jams from carelessness, heart beating like a snare drum, fingers frantically trying to fix it. The sun is in his eyes as he sees you cock your head over his shoulder, the long barrel of the rifle is placed atop his leather jacket, finger itching to press the trigger.

“Duck.” Your voice is calm as Hobie follows through your command, the firing pin ignites, sparks fly, the smell of gunpowder permeates the air, bullet whizzing and hitting your mark— Right in between the eyes.

Gore explodes from what used to be a head, then a scream from the remaining target. Hobie steers Bucky, whilst you fight. Fight for him, and for yourself.

Pulling the bolt handle, without missing a beat you release the shell with a clink of metal. The remaining man looks at his dead companion in horror, still riding on next to him, now missing a head. Just like they did, you use the opportunity to reload, hand reaching for Hobie's gun belt, taking what you need, reloading with an expert hand. You pull the bolt to place the bullet, pushing it in, you aim once again. At the same time, the man screams, aiming at you. But you're faster.

Inhale. You shoot, hand steady, eyes focused.

A wet squelch can be heard, then a body thuds harshly on the ground as a horse neighs, crying and trotting wildly. You finally exhale. Hobie reins Bucky in, hooves digging in, he stops.

“Holy shit.” Hobie stares at you with a growing smile, cheeks aflame, not from the adrenaline nor the fight. “You can shoot.”

“You taught me.” Your eyes doesn't leave the violence you left behind.

“Yeah, but not like that!” He laughs in disbelief. His heart hammers in his chest, and he remembers all the times he held your hand in his while he teaches you the basics.

“What do you think I've been doing since you left?” You swallow thickly, nerves catching up, hands trembling around the rifle. “My books can only take me so far until I've read the entire library.”

Hobie holds your cheek, face concerned, thumb running along the tear you don't notice slide down your cheek. “Can you look at me, lovie?”

Slowly but surely, you turn your head. “We manufacture guns, Hobie, it's important for me to learn.”

“I know, but shootin’ it at people is different.” He would know, he worked at the same place. “Are you alright?”

“Now you ask me that?” You hand him the rifle, breath shuddering. “Can we go now, please?”

Hobie could only nod, hand itching to hold you again.

—

You finally reach Strawberry, it has a sweet sounding name but it's anything but sweet. The streets are thick with mud, the smell is much better than the other town but it still makes your nose itch. The place is situated on the foot of a mountain, the air is cooler with heavy winds persisting. Rows and rows of establishments lie along the road, a saloon with a balcony on your right, a doctor's office on your left. Convenient, you think.

A brothel sits next to the saloon, women gathered around on the porch, smiling and hollering at the people who pass by. Hobie garners their attention, (who wouldn't be?) despite riding with you on the same horse. He doesn't give them any attention, a disappointment on their part. His eyes are too busy looking over your profile and the inn that's situated on the hill.

You flick your eyes over to him, as if he has a sixth sense, he stares back. “What?”

“Nothing.” You whisper.

Hobie hides a small smile over your shoulder. He stops Buckeye at the front of the inn, hopping off, he hitches his horse first before giving you a hand, surprising you.

Without a second thought, you take his outstretched hand, bare against his leather clad one. You land carefully on the soft ground, cringing at the wet squelch of mud on your shoes.

“I need a bath,” you stomp over towards the porch and out of the mud. Hobie's hand finally leaves your side once you step foot on the steady planks. “And a nice bed.”

“That's why we're ‘ere.” He says while he takes his pack from Bucky's back. Giving the horse a pet and a much deserved sugarcube. He whispers something to the horse, to which Bucky neighs in reply. Stepping on the porch right next to you, the dark horse nods at his rider.

You laugh at them. “What'd you tell him?”

“I promised him a place at the stable so he could get a proper rest. ‘m gonna take him once you're inside.”

“Are you gonna leave me here?” Panic sets in your stomach.

Hobie furrows his brows, “no, ‘course not.” I'd never do that. He thinks, but he already did, years ago. “C’mon.”

Bucky neighs to you this time, tail swishing behind him. “G’night, Buck.” You give him a small wave. “You did a good job today.”

Entering the inn, the smell of pine and something fruity catches your nose. Its walls are all wooden, lined with old photos and animal furs. There's a fireplace in the common area where a couple of people sit and chat by the fire. The place is cozy, it's the first time you feel like you can finally have a nice comfortable place to sleep in since you landed in America.

Hobie knocks on the reception desk, leaning on the table, clearly tired and weary. Whilst you try not to think about what you did earlier, you roam your eyes everywhere in an attempt to push all the thoughts away, to kick the gore you saw, and the act that you've executed far far away from you. Your hand trembles at the sight of a deer head hanging on the wall. Then you remember the man whose head you blasted to pieces. Heart beating faster, breath stuck in your throat, Hobie suddenly takes your hand— squeezing, reminding you to breathe.

Before he could comfort you further, a middle aged man appears behind the desk. Shoulders broad, mustache well maintained and curled at the ends. Blue eyes wide and full of wisdom.

“Welcome to Strawberry inn.” He says in a comfortable yet deep tone. His eyes flick towards your intertwined hands, lips smiling faintly. “The name's Finn, room for one?”

Hobie clears his throat, taking his hand back on his side. “Yes, two beds.”

“Ah, a conservative couple eh?”

“Sure,” Hobie acts, nodding along.

“Name?”

“Larry Smith. And baths for the missus and I.”

Finn nods, showing him a sign on his desk. “three dollars for a regular one, five for a deluxe bath.”

“Deluxe?” You ask, curious.

Hobie beats Finn to the punch by explaining it himself. “It's when a woman helps you scrub down.”

You blink twice in quick succession. “Oh.” Cheeks warm, you awkwardly bounce on your feet. “A–are you going to take the deluxe one, Ho–Larry?”

“I might.” He says with a smirk, eyes shining.

“Okay.” You crane your neck towards Finn, “what's our room number?” Your tone inches towards something that has Hobie amused.

“Uh, three—” You're already snatching the keys from him and then quickly speed walking up the stairs. You turn to the right, Finn calls after you. “Left side, ma’am.” Frustrated, you walk the other way. He then turns towards Hobie with a shake of his head. “Happy wife, happy life, english. Don't tease her like that or you'll end up sleeping in the stables.”

Hobie bites his tongue so he couldn't laugh. “I know that now, thanks, mate.”

—

You feel nice, nicer than you should be after what you did. There's a pebble inside you that keeps growing and growing in the pit of your stomach right next to the boulder that has resided there for years. You have no idea what is, but you want it gone just like how you disappear under the tepid water of the tub.

Hobie has laid out clothes for you, it sits on the chair in the corner. A white work shirt that smells like him and a pair of clean socks. Your skirt hangs on the doorway, days worth of dirt and dust clinging to it. The walls are thin, you hear the hinges squeak in the next room, the arguing couple above; and a child's cry from below. The water laps at your chin, now cold and icy on your slowly freezing skin. Like muscle memory, you hold your hand up, the jagged long scar across the back of your hand has you tracing the remnants of the injury— what he used to do to remind you that he's there, that you're safe. But when he left, when he disappeared into the night, leaving you to the horrid predetermined life, you had to do it yourself. You had to carry yourself everyday with the heavy boulder in your heart, surviving each day without him, hurting, rotting in that damned empty mansion you never asked for.

You thought you could finally take the boulder out of you and place it down once and for all when you saw him. it's still there, weighing you down like a hundred ton steel of grief and longing. You don't resent him for what he did, running away, leaving you when the night before he promised you sweet words, words of freedom, words of an escape. No, you don't hate him. Yes, there's days where you would curse his name, but it never lasts. It never does, even now. You still love him even when he doesn't feel the same way anymore.

Your eyes prick from all the unshed tears, everything makes you cry nowadays, even the old lonesome man you met on the road brought a tear to your melancholy eyes. But you can't seem to find the courage to cry in front of him, to let him see your salty tears flow out of you like a raging river of sorrow. And moreso, you're afraid, afraid of home, afraid of what's waiting for you at the end of the road. Whether it be a coyote with its maw opening to lunge at your neck. Or a rattlesnake ready to strike silently at your open wound.

You're not afraid of him, you're afraid to lose him again to the coyotes and rattlesnakes.

Lifting both hands, you watch the blood that collects within the lines of your palms. Rubies ebbing into your life line, your love lines, and into your death— you'd carry the life you've taken until you're six feet underground, decaying, milky bones turning to dust, food for the worms. And yet, the blood in your hands would stay there, even when your hands are eaten by the soil, brought back to where you once came.

Hobie's right, this place changes you. Molds you into something that can survive its harsh environment, just like the plants you once read about. And just like the coiling vines, the flowers that wait and bite their prey; the leaves that kill when cut— you intend to survive the harshness of it all.

With a deep inhale, you leave the metal tub. Water splashes across the floor as you stand up, the even colder air leaves goosebumps in its wake. You dry yourself and dress like an automaton, movements rigid, eyes blank.

Opening the door with a creak, you're met with Hobie standing in the hallway, just across from you. His hand still lingers around the doorknob, viridescent eyes blinking slowly at you.

For a second that felt like hours, you watched each other. How his eyes flick over your form and over his work shirt that you wear. How water still clings to his chest, soaking parts of his white shirt. And how his finger twitches around the doorknob whilst steam escapes from the slits in the doorway. He observes you with vigilant eyes, how your lips are slightly parted, chest breathing heavily. And how much your legs are begging to run towards him, feet pointed in his direction, heels lifted up slightly, but you don't. You don't run to him, instead, you toss him the keys to the room before he could ask for it himself. He catches it with ease.

“You're closer to the room.” Walking closer, you rub your arms for warmth.

Hobie sniffs, hand wiping a stray droplet from his forehead, pack slung over his shoulder. He unlocks the door that's a few steps away, with a click, he opens it for you.

“You look like you're about to pass out.”

You push past him, trying to smile, but you fail. “I feel like I will in a second—” pausing by the doorway, you sharply inhale. “You asked for two beds right?”

“Yeah— fucker.” Hobie clicks his tongue at the sight of the single bed standing in the room. “I'll go get our rooms changed.”

“I'm fucking tired, Hobs.” You lumber your way towards the inviting bed, too tired to even check the room and its sparse décor. “Complain tomorrow. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before.”

“That was different—”

“How is it any different?” Shucking off your shoes, you blink at him through tired eyes. “It's just sleeping next to each other. We were doing anything but that back then.”

He curses breathlessly under his breath. “Fine, don't hog the blanket.”

“Don't kick in your sleep.” You smile for the first time since you pulled the trigger. Slithering inside the warm covers, you lay your head on the lumpy pillows. Heaven to you after sleeping but nothing on the ground or hay for the past few weeks.

“I don't kick in my sleep.” Hobie does the same, laying next to you, giving you enough space in between. “You're the one who kicks in your sleep. Like a fuckin' donkey.”

You lay on your side, inching closer to him. “Please, I'm more of a mustang, not a donkey.”

“Back then you were more like the rider than a horse.” He jokes with a smug smile across his lips.

Your cheeks are aflame, laugh creeping up your throat. The heaviness in your chest subsides, the blood in your hands thins. “You wanna bet?”

Hobie's joking expression is replaced by something else. Flustered, amused, and a mix of an emotion that he has only felt for you. “Fuckin' hell, love.” He turns away from you, lest he lets his thoughts get to him. “Good night, you fuckin' minx.” He hears you laugh, immediately he wants to turn back around and meet you face to face, just like before. But he doesn't.

You're met with his back. The feeling comes back, like a cockroach that wouldn't die even with how much you try to stomp on it. It was foolish to think that he'd love you forever. It was foolish to think that he'd greet you with open arms after years of being apart. How foolish, they'd always whisper to you, naive, and stupid, always standing on the edge of the crowd, eyes always looking for something, someone. Someone that lays before you now.

“Good night, Hobie.” He mouths your next words like clockwork. “Only dream of good things.” You refrain from doing the next thing, a kiss for sweet dreams, a whisper of the three words to remind him of you in the dreamworld.

Hobie silently wishes you did.

Soon enough, soft snores can be heard from behind him. Peeking over his shoulder, he makes sure you're asleep before quietly standing up. Sheets rustling, he tiptoes over the noisy planks, breathing silent. Hobie takes a chair from the corner, propping it under the doorknob, shaking the chair, he makes sure that it's locked up tightly. He can never be sure with the simple singular lock on the door.

Once he's sure that it will hold up, he takes his gun from the hanging gun belt, checking the chamber, he keeps it on the waistband of his trousers. After checking all the windows and the fireplace, he finally joins you back in bed. Gun placed on the bedside, ready to be used just in case. Laying on his side, he faces you, observing how the moon shines just across your face. You look peaceful, relaxed, and he remembers how much he has missed you. Like an impossible itch. A craving that cannot be satiated. Incurable, until you're within reach.

His tired eyes stare at the glaring scar across the back of your hand. Hobie remembers how you got the scar on your hand, it was warm that day, searing hot whilst you ran into the woods frantically to meet him. As a result of your unmindful actions, a sharp branch takes a chunk of your skin; leaving him to sew it close for you. He reminisces of how your face contorts to pain with every suture, and how you grip his shoulder to tamp down your screams. He wasn't careful, or even thinking about how it would scar, he just wanted to get it over with so you'd stop hurting. He held you for hours after, held you more after your great aunt saw the damage. She called you broken that day.

He blinks and he's back to the present. He can never go back. You can never go back. So he inches his hand closer to yours, pinky brushing along your skin. Finally, he curls his pinky finger around your ring finger. Linking his life line to yours. Just like he always does to the identical hidden ring around his neck. Your scar peers from the side, a reminder that everything that happened before was real. That all those saccharin touches and words were flesh and blood. He wishes he could go back, to take you away the moment she called you broken.

In his sleep he dreams of you.

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daddyricsdoll · 11 months

Text

First ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: Ollie deserved to be congratulated on winning in Monza, and you had the perfect idea.

Warnings: Oral (male receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Based off of this request!

I watch my sweetheart run onto the podium, a giant smile on his face. I can’t help but smile at him, a small tear leaving the corner of my eye.

All the mechanics surrounding me shout for him and I stand there in solitude, but feeling so many emotions except for loneliness. Ollie stands up tall and straight while the national anthem of the UK starts playing, his eyes fall down and make contact with mine. I send him a wobbly smile and he sends me one back, one that shines and only makes my heart pound more.

His sweet smile doesn’t just make me feel love, but something else, a feeling in my core ignites and I know just how I will congratulate him. Some splashes of champagne fall on my face and that indicates my exit.

I bee lined straight to Ollie's driver room and waited there for a few minutes. Sitting on the massage bed, leaning back on my arms and legs a little spread, and finally Ollie walks in.

We gaze at each other for a second before I get up and run to him. “I’m so proud of you” I say into his shoulder, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly. I move my head back and look him in the eyes, my vision blurred from my unshed tears. But I always manage to find his lips perfectly.

I go straight into a fervent kiss, one of my hands sliding up to the back of his head. Ollies hands glide down my back and to my thighs, he pulls them up so he carries me, our lips still connected as he walks me back onto the massage table.

Once I fully land on the table, very slowly I break the kiss. Our breathing in sync, deep and heavy, but we both have the same idea in mind. His eyes flicker away from mine and then fall back.

“Do you… do you want to do this?” I ask him and watch his head nod up and down, and a little smirk dances on his lips. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start undoing it.

Ollie takes a step closer and places his hands on each side of my waist. I give him another little smile as I unzip his suit very leisurely, watching him silently beg me to go faster.

As I shrug it off Ollie's shoulders he eagerly pulls off the top half of his suit, his hands then return to my waist and under my shirt, caressing my skin. Ollie then starts pulling my shirt up, and it leaves my body, his hands find my hips and he looks at me in awe.

I pull him in by his fireproof and give him a loving kiss before getting off the table and pushing Ollie into the spot I once occupied. I pull the rest of his suit down and look at the bulge in his pants.

I pull down the fabric and watch his dick spring up. “Baby, can I?” I look up at him. Ollie gives a short nod and I grab him in my fist, I spit on my hand to make it easier for me and I start jerking my hand up and down. His head tilts up and looks at the ceiling, his hands clenching the table.

I rub my thumb over the head of his cock, spreading around the precum, my other hand busies itself with his balls, delicately massaging them, hearing the string of moans that leave my darling's mouth.

Such sounds, I have only just heard, which make me want to reward him everyday, for just breathing and loving me.

Ollie starts cursing under his breath and between groans, that's when I finally lower my mouth onto him. I circle his head with my tongue and start bobbing up and down. Ollie’s hand dives into my hair and he helps control my pace.

His sweet accent emits rather salty words when his tip starts hitting the back of my throat. That’s when I feel him twitch inside of me and he shoots his load into my mouth. His heaving fills my ears while I swallow all of his cum, and when I look up at him with watery eyes, he looks down at me the same.

Ollie’s hands grab my arms and pull me up. “My turn now” He whispers to me and his hands start unbuttoning my trousers. I finish his job while he grabs a condom and rolls it on himself.

I wait for Ollie and then I start taking my bra off, my panties slowly afterwards. I take a step closer to him and he stands up, grabs me and puts me on the massage table.

He then places each hand on either side of my body, face inches away. “You may have more experience, but I know a thing or two” Ollie’s hands spread my thighs and I lift my legs up a bit to give him better access. As I give him a proud smile, he pushes into me and his groan compliments my whine.

Ollie stays buried in me for a few seconds before he starts moving again. He finds a good pace with his thrusts and I start moving my hips along with him, taking away some of the effort.

Ollie starts hitting me in the ideal place and I start praising him, telling him he’s in the right spot and calling him perfect. His pink cheeks and brown eyes ease my breathing, while his thrusts don’t keep a pattern.

Some slow and deep, the others faster. He leans in and our noses touch, lips barely nanometers away. The feeling in my stomach becomes more prominent and I feel my climax only seconds away. “Are you close Ollie?”

“I-fuck, yes” My lips part and I tell Ollie I want to cum with him, he nods and hums as a yes. I can feel him twitching in me and it was the last straw before I cum with a loud wail, Ollie curses out and stays balls deep in me.

Our faces move closer and lips collide, in a soft, secure kiss. Ollie then finally pulls out and throws the condom in the bin. He leaves for the bathroom for a second and comes out with a towel.

His hands meticulously clean me up with the towel, and he places delicate kisses on the insides of my thighs. Ollie helps me put my clothes back on, and I do the same for him.

He then sits down on the massage table and pulls me into him, I wrap my legs around his hips and straddle his lap. My face hides itself in his neck and my arms wrap around his body.

“Thank you for being here, and for…this” Ollie whispers in my neck.

I emit a satisfied hum. “Of course darling, I will always be here.”

#ollie bearman #ollie bearman smut #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman #f2 #my sweetheart #f1 #f1 smut

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likedovesinthewindd · 1 year

Note

Hii I little angsty request but could you do one where reader comforts hobie after his Canon event?

Somthing where reader keeps rambling because she doesnt know how else to fill the silence and they end up having the- "do you want me to shut up" "No" "do you want me to leave?" "...no"- conversation

ok so in the movie itself it doesn't really go into detail ab what hobie's canon event is exactly, and a lot of theories talk about it being him killing a police captain. then there's also the shot that shows him throwing away his suit. in the comics he kills president osborne and reveals his identity so that could also be it but idk!! maybe i didn't catch it but i left it as ambiguous so that you could kinda go with whatever.

hobie brown x fem! reader

warning: mentions of death, ingury

wc: ±1400

a/n: this was slow-cooking in my damn drafts but i finally got it done.

The pelts of rain that fall against your bedroom door in their uncoordinated rhythm does little to lull you back to sleep as you thrash around in the sheets, your mind torturing you with the recurring thoughts of 'what if?'

What if he got hurt? What if he's lying somewhere, bleeding out and slipping right through your fingers? What if he was already dead, killed in cold blood by one of the many people against him and the message he so fearlessly and shamelessly carries with him.

You turn around in bed once again, willing the thoughts away as you try to focus on something less pessimistic.

You haven't heard from Hobie in days, haven't seen him even longer ago. It wasn't uncommon for him to dissappear like this—you almost expected it from him considering what he did—but it's never been this long before. The longest he's been gone was four days. It's been ten today.

You knew he could take care of himself, and you knew he could protect himself well. Hell, you've both heard and seen what happened to the people that underestimated him. But you still worried, it was in your nature to worry about him every time he left you. He knew this, and he'd do his best to reassure you in his own laid-back, almost cocky way.

"You worry too much, love. 'll be back before you knowit, yeah?" was what he'd always say, leaving you with a kiss to the forehead. You couldn't exactly remember what he said when he left days ago.

At that, your mind whirred back to life, the what if's and gruesome scenarios plaguing you for the umpteenth time this day alone. Before these thoughts could once again pull you into a depreciating hole of anxiety and stress, you shot out of bed, the cold air at once causing goosebumps along the expanse of your arms

You had to do something; move around, clean your room, watch TV, fold laundry, anything to get your mind off of things, even if only for a little while. You decided to make your way to the kitchen, make yourself something to eat, considering you've been too on edge to stomach anything truly filling.

The soothing voice of Billie Holiday filled the kitchen from the old record player, as you absent-mindedly stirred at the pot of pasta, the pan next to it simmering with sauce. Your reverie was broken by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open, followed by the thud of boots and a loud sigh.

Your heart sunk down to the soles of your feet, as you quietly yet excitedly made your way to your bedroom. There he stood, pulling at his mask, the rest of him soaked from the heavy downpour. He pulled the mask from his face, and once his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong.

You made your way over to him, your socked feet trying to avoid the small puddle his boots had made as you took his cold hands in yours. He took a second to look down at where your hands connected, and released another tired sigh. "Bee?" you asked, trying to get him to look at you. He looked up at you with sullen eyes.

"Are you hungry?" you asked softly. You didn't ask him where he was, or what he was doing. He wasn't going to give you a real answer anyway. Not right now, at least. You didn't pry at that part of his life, although the various news reports and newspaper articles kept you more than informed most of the time. That was if they weren't being filtered through by the regime of the higher ups, them not very keen on telling the story how it really is. Much more interested in keeping their hands seemingly clean, and painting him as the bad guy; the wannabe hero trying to further worsen the state of the already near-apocalyptic nation.

He only nodded at you question, and you nodded along with him, already seeing that it was going to be one of those nights; where he much rather preferred you did all the talking, while he mulled over whatever event had occurred.

"Go take a shower, I'll finish up the food," you said softly, leaving him and returning to the kitchen. After a while he emerged from the bedroom, changed into dry clothes as he made his way to the kitchen table. He sat by the island quietly, watching you cook and listening to you as you talked about what you'd been up to. He didn't miss the small "I missed you, bee. You had me worried," thrown in.

It wasn't long till the both of you sat in your small living room after finishing your food. You could see he wasn't really hungry, but he ate just to give you some peace of mind. The sound of Billie Holiday was by now traded for Amy Winehouse, her beautifully gruff voice mixing perfectly with the sound of the rain that still pelted against the windows.

"—I knew she was only joking, but I was still scared as hell. You know how easily I get stressed out," you rambled on about whatever stupid story you could think of, anything to fill the deafening silence between the two of you. You, by now, were on your third story already, and you could feel how irritating you probably were. You were trying to get him to react, to snicker, laugh, make one of his sarcastic remarks, anything to tell you he was alright. You could see he wasn't alright, though.

He looked so tired, like something was eating at him, and it killed you to see him like this. It was obvious that whatever had happened was not just one of those nights, but something much more serious.

You followed his line of sight, where he had been staring at the coffee table with a blank stare, eyes trained on the cover of a newspaper you had bought.

"Do you want me to shut up?" you asked quietly, at your wits end. He finally looked at you, shaking his head slowly. "No," he added, voice gruff and deep from no use. You nodded, moving closer to him and placing your hand on his leg, giving it a light squeeze.

"I decided to buy one today, when I passed the convenience store 'round the corner from work," you started, "yeah...haven't read one in ages. There's actually an article about you in there, don't know how they managed to get that printed," you laughed weakly. "They called you 'Spiderpunk', I know how much you hate that," you added quietly, your resolve crumbling when the only thing you got out of him was a scoff. Usually he'd go on a tangent about how much he hated the term, but tonight he was so quiet, so sullen it actually unnerved you.

"I'm here if you want to talk, you know that, right?" you asked, and he gave you a nod. "Perhaps not right now, but when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here. Even if we end up never talking about it, it's fine." For a moment his face faltered, looking as though he desperately wanted to talk to you about whatever happened, but the words got stuck in his throat, making him swallow dryly.

"D'you want me to leave? Give you some space?" you asked again, and when his eyes met yours, you could see every hidden emotion in them, every unsaid word he so desperately wanted to utter to you. The sight made your heart clench. How badly you wanted to wrap your arms around him, make him forget, but if he wanted distance, it was what you'd give him.

Once again it was just the sound of Amy Winehouse and the downpour filling the small room, along with Hobie's deep and steady breaths against your collarbones.

"No, stay a bit," he said, and you nodded once again. You moved impossibly closer to him, finally wrapping your arms around his neck and engulfing him in an embrace. He accepted your affection, responding by wrapping his long arms around your waist and practically pulling you into his lap, placing his head on your shoulder and letting out another exhausted sigh.

He can only hold her, miss Winehouse sang.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown angst #hobie brown fic #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #likedovesinthewindd

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deanbrainrotwritings · 8 months

Text

— SWEET KANSAS HONEY

SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx

“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.

“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously.

“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use.

She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look.

“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.

“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.

“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back.

“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.

“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink.

“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”

“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention.

“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it.

“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.

“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages.

dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((

She laughed softly.

dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me.

Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working.

dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.

She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message.

dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy.

She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face.

me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out.

me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute.

me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X

She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more.

She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.

Dean was in the shower.

Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

dean : I fig read what you seny

She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice.

“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.

“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock.

“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up.

“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal.

“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned.

“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly.

She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster.

“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.

He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself.

“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”

Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.

“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel.

“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.

“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated.

“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.

“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors.

“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up.

“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled.

“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month

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“Also because I want [Nino] to be more narratively important but that is a rant for another day.” And will that day be someday soon? Wink wink nudge nudge :3c

I am happy to give Nino some love, but before we do, we need to talk about how badly canon has failed him. The reason we need to have that talk is that the love I'm going to give is far more headcanon-y than I usually go in these analysis posts. For most characters, I can give a strong canon-based argument for a core characterization. For Nino? Well, I am pulling this stuff from canon, but I wouldn't exactly label it a "strong" argument. There are even elements of my take on Nino that you could label "grasping at straws".

And I'm happy to own that! I delight in giving Nino all the love he deserves even if it doesn't perfectly match canon, but that means that my Nino is less me leaning into the best parts of canon and more me shifting through canon, grabbing a few shinny bits, and weaving them into something that you may not agree with because my vision for Nino is to elevate him to match Alya in terms of narrative importance because I want the team show season two promised me even if I have to make it myself!

And if you don't want that? Then that's fine! I'm not arguing that everyone should adopt this take. My version of Nino is about as close to an OC as I get when writing fanfic. So let's get into it and talk about why I had to do that. (Also note that I have nothing against OCs. It's just that, when it comes to my own writing, I try to reserve them for original fiction or for very minor roles that no canon character could fill. Totally a matter of personal preference and not some sort of judgement.)

The Many Ways that Canon has Done Nino Dirty

If we look at what is arguably the main group of friends - Alya, Marinette, Adrien, and Nino - then we can see a clear base concept for the first three. Alya is the plucky reporter. Marinette is the headstrong leader. Adrien is the sweet goofball. Nino is... Alya's boyfriend? Adrien's best friend? Chris' older brother?

This is the problem that I was referring to above. Alya, Adrien, and Marinette have clear roles that you could pick out by just watching Origins. Nino doesn't. He doesn't even speak in part one and part two gives him all of six lines. These lines establish him as a nice guy since they're all about him being kind to Adrien, but that's about it. Here's one of them as an example:

Miss Bustier: Agreste, Adrien? Nino: (quietly to Adrien) You say "present". Adrien: (jumps up with his hand raised) Uh, present!

This is a cute moment for sure, but when I look at it, I can't tell you who Nino is supposed to be other than a nice guy, which isn't much to go on. Nice guys can fit a lot of roles.

This isn't necessarily a flaw. Some characters have roles that are immediately obvious and some characters don't. This second class of character usually just has a more complex role that will be discovered and defined based on their actions as the story goes on. However, because Miraculous' writing is all over the place, Nino gets screwed. Instead of his actions defining his nebulous role, his actions make his role impossible to pin down! Here are a few examples:

Nino the Protector:

Season two was big on the idea that miraculous had to be suited to their holders. That's why Chloe kept getting the bee as we saw in Malediktator:

Marinette: I must choose someone who's not impressed by people in power. Who can help me trap Malediktator. Huh?! Of course! That's it. (reaches for the Miraculous of the Bee)

And why did Nino get the turtle in Anansi?

Marinette: I need a protective Miraculous. (gasps, and points at the Turtle Miraculous Master Fu is wearing) That's the one I need, Master! (Master Fu gasps) Uh, if it's okay with you. Master Fu: (smiles at Wayzz, who nods to him) Do you have someone in mind, Marinette? Marinette: Actually, I think I found just the right person.

Okay, cool, we finally have a strong defining trait for Nino! He's a protector! Or, at least, he was here. Other episodes go directly against this role such as this nonsense from Illusion:

Nino: What's up is Ladybug and Cat Noir don't have us to help them anymore. Alya: (nervously) Um, um— uh— what do you mean, "us"? Nino: Well, us, you Rena Rouge, me Carapace! (Alya kicks his leg underneath the table) Ouch! What's the big deal? We can tell Marinette and Adrien we used to be superheroes.

This first issue with this episode is that we see Nino out his and Alya's secret identities without her permission even though the resistance did NOT require an identity reveal to be a thing. In other words, our supposed protector is taking a big risk for no reason. Then he goes and does this:

Nino: Hence my plan. We're gonna film an akumatization. Alya: And how are you, Comrade Ketchup, gonna be in the know when and where this akumatization takes place? Nino: Easy, Comrade Beurre Maître d'Hôtel. I'm gonna make it happen.

Which leads to the four friends antagonizing Gabriel even though Nino knows how complex Adrien and Gabriel's relationship is. A move that makes no sense for a supposed protector because Gabriel was far from their only option. Nino could have picked anyone, but he went with the riskiest candidate possible, exposing his best friend to a potentially massive backlash.

Nino also doesn't even try to contact Ladybug and Chat Noir prior to this insane plan, thereby putting the whole city at unnecessary risk! What kind of protector purposely causes an akuma without also coming up with mitigation strategies to minimize the resulting damage?

Everything Nino does in this episode should disqualify him from ever holding the turtle again or, at the very least, he should have to redeem himself before holding the turtle again. This is especially true since he never apologizes for anything he did in Illusion and this is just one example of the issue. It's actually kind of hard to find moments where Nino acts as a protector even though he holds the miraculous of Protection. So is he supposed to be a protector? Who knows!

Nino, The Empath:

That first example was long, so we'll pick two quicker ones to flesh this out. The first one is how Nino and Adrien's relationship is defined. In Origins and the New York Special Nino is written as a kind and sensitive guy who is acting as Adrien's guide to dating and other elements of the real world:

Nino: Yup. I love Adrien, but he's like a baby chick that's just started cracking out of his egg. He has a hard time understanding the signals people send him. Alya: What signals? Marinette isn't exactly sending them clearly. I mean, look! What is she doing with her arms? Telling him what to do in case of an emergency landing or something? Nino:(sighs) If only this trip could help Adrien finally come out of his shell.

But then you have episodes like Animan where Adrien is Nino's guide to dating:

Nino: Shhh! You know I'm no good with the ladies, especially this one all of a sudden. I mean, dude, do I go up to her and crack her a joke? Shoot her a compliment? Invite her to the zoo? Play it serious? Adrien: Nino, you're way over-thinking this. "Invite her to the zoo", you serious? Nino: Well, they have this really cool new exhibit there. Adrien: Listen, just be yourself, man.

And episodes like Illusion (discussed above) and Psycomedian (see below) where Adrien is deeply uncomfortable and Nino doesn't notice:

Nino: See, dude? I told you! Hilarious, right? Adrien: Uh... (laughs nervously) Right! Really funny, Nino. Nino: I gotta show you his other sketches. It's insane that you don't know Harry Clown! (laughs)

Which might work if these episodes were about Nino learning a lesson, but they're not. Nino learns nothing, so is he generally in tune with others or is he kind of oblivious to other peoples' feelings? And why did Nino ever think that Adrien was a good source of romantic advice if he also thinks that Adrien is "a baby chick"? Pick a lane people!

Nino's Hobbies

Our final source of confusion is trying to define what Nino even enjoys doing. Horrificator and Queen Banana have him playing around as an amature film maker, but we also see him acting as an amature DJ with the wiki even claiming that he's the head of the school's radio station. So which of these things is his passion? Movies or music?

To be clear, I think it's fine to have multiple passions, but this is a story. You want to keep your characters' non-story-relevant hobbies kind of simple, especially when the character in question is a relatively minor side character who rarely gets much screen time. It's why Alix is only really into roller skating and why Nathaniel is only really into art. You don't want them to be more complex than that.

Even the main characters get this "keep it simple" treatment with Marinette only really being into fashion and Alya only really being into her blog. The girls don't need two demanding passions that would eat up all of their free time, but that's what Nino gets! Film and music are both incredibly demanding passions and it's hard to balance a character who is into both who is also an active superhero. That's a lot for one dude to do well!

I've actually seen fics that cast Nino as wanting to be a director and fics that make him want to be a professional DJ because canon really isn't clear about this pretty basic aspect of his character, but you do need to pick a lane when writing anything that gives Nino a career and so people seem to pick a passion at random.

My Version of Nino

By now, we're hopefully in agreement that canon has made a mess of Nino's character to the point where it's near impossible to say "this is who Nino is supposed to be." However, if you want to write Nino, then you do kind of have to pick a characterization to go with, so here's what I've come up with. Feel free to embrace it or reject it, but know that you will pry my version of Nino out of my cold dead hands because I utterly adore him.

Since Nino is Carapace, I base everything about him around the concept of "protect and defend" because he needs to feel like he deserves his heroic alter ego. I do not want to make canon's mistake of giving him a miraculous that massively contradicts his writing. Especially when that writing makes him feel interchangeable with other characters. At this point, no one from canon screams "turtle miraculous" unless you want to give it to Adrien since he's Ladybug's defender.

I also designed Nino around Alya and Adrien as those will arguably be his most important relationships. He should feel like a perfect fit for boyfriend and best friend respectively. I also took Marinette into consideration because he's going to be part of her team/friend group, so he should work with her, too.

What all that means is that I basically said "okay, this is where Nino is supposed to fit in the story and this is the dumpster fire that canon gave us, how do I pull pieces from the fire and paste them together to make a character that fits who Nino should have been?"

To really get into my version of Nino, I'd almost have to give you a fic to read, but that's way too much for a Tumblr post, so let's keep this high-level and just look at some of my notes on Nino from my lore Bible:

Nino is a major audiophile. He loves listening to music and watching movies/TV shows to study how they play with sound. He wants to be an audio engineer when he's older, but he also has a general passion for all things music and film. He’ll listen to any genre and watch almost any movie or show. He loves to take charge of the music at events so that the music really fits the crowd (and so it sounds good). It isn’t unheard of for him to go see an unknown band or an odd indie film on his own. This will become a major bonding point for Nino and Adrien because of the influence of Adrien's mother. Nino has seen all of Emilie's films and loves them. It will also bond him and Alya as his knowledge of film making will allow him to help her learn the art of filming now that she's doing complex things like actions shots and editing together multiple recordings.

Nino is generally pretty laid back and likes to hear people out. His reaction to confrontation is to try to calm everyone down so that they can get to the heart of the issue. He wants everyone to get along, but he's also not going to let someone take the blame when they shouldn't. Nino protects the innocent.

Nino is incredibly protective of the people he loves. If someone he cares about is in danger, his peaceful nature goes straight out the window. He’s the kind of person who would happily take a bullet for his friends and family. This will lead to him following Alya around once the hero stuff starts because he wants to keep her safe. Never let Alya go out alone if Nino is around or even just aware that a fight is happening. Alya thinks "scoop" and Nino thinks "my Alya sense is tingling." He's NOT there to stop her from doing what she loves, he's just there to be her spotter who lets her focus on filming while he watches for danger, though that will initially be a struggle for him. Treat this as his audition/training for Carapace where he learns to balance protective instincts with getting the job done so that he's ready to perfectly take on his miraculous.

When Nino’s folks split up, his mother insisted that the kids should go to therapy to help process things. They had individual and family counseling. Nino was actually pretty cool with the divorce as he’d seen it coming, but his brother was really affected by it, so Nino spent his time working on ways to help Chris (and being told that he was a brother, not a parent, but he still wanted to help). He learned a lot from going through it and it’s why he’s so good at dealing with emotional issues. He’s also good at not taking those burdens on himself. He wants to help, but knows that it's your battle. Marinette often looks to Nino for guidance on emotional issues because she knows that she's terrible at navigating them. She has given him full permission to stop her when she's too focused on solutions over support. All of the friends will help Adrien figure out social situations, but Nino will be the main guide as he's the one with the strongest skills in that area. Plus Adrien makes Nino's protective big brother instincts go crazy.

Nino’s a bit of a loner by choice. He has "weird" hobbies that easily lend themselves to being done alone and he doesn't have any interest in "forcing" his hobbies on someone who doesn't actually enjoy them, so he spends a lot of time by himself and rarely invites others to share in his interests. He only does that when he thinks that they'll actually enjoy what he's sharing. He doesn’t mind this, but he’s also a very welcoming individual who doesn’t like to see people left out, so he’ll come out of his shell when he sees someone who needs a friend. This usually leads to him making friends who soon become closer with others, but still view him as a casual friend. He’s cool with that. He's just happy that they found their people. Adrien will be the first friend who really stays Nino’s due to an understanding of Nino’s “weird” hobbies. After all, Adrien’s the son of an actress. He’s used to weird indie films and discussions of cinematography. I'd even say that he revels in it and realizes that he has missed it desperately since his mom got too sick to do that kind of thing. Basically, Nino will fill a spot in Adrien's heart that Adrien didn't even know was empty. Adrien can listen to Nino talk about cinematography for hours and never get bored. Before Adrien, no one knew that Nino was this talkative!

If anyone wants more insights into this topic, feel free to send an ask, but I think we'll call this post done now because it's SUPER long.

#nino deserves better #ml writing critical #ml writing salt

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wlwcatalogue · 1 year

Text

Yuri Subtext (?) Anime List

A supplement to my earlier yuri anime masterlist, this list covers anime which aren’t marketed as yuri but which prominently feature F/F pairs, whether canonical or subtext! Since subtext is so subjective, this post only includes series which I’ve actually watched, and so is by no means intended to be comprehensive.

Also, since the above description would not cover certain series with well-known yuri pairings, I've also included a few "bonus rounds" for the curious (although these are still limited to series I have watched).

At-a-glance list:

Revolutionary Girl Utena (39 episodes + 1 movie, 1997)

NOIR (26 episodes, 2001)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica (12 episodes, 2011)

Haibane Renmei (13 episodes, 2002)

.hack//SIGN (26 episodes, 2002)

Read or Die / R.O.D. the TV (26 episodes, 2003)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (24 episodes, 2022)

Black Rock Shooter (8 episodes, 2010)

Izetta: The Last Witch (12 episodes, 2016)

Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll (movie, 2019)

Canaan (13 episodes, 2009)

Ga-Rei: Zero (12 episodes, 2008)

Bonus rounds:

Sailor Moon S3 (38 episodes, 1994) (subtext)

Mai-Hime (26 episodes, 2004) (canon)

Psycho-Pass (41 episodes + 3 movies, 2012) (canon)

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! (24 episodes + movie, 2020) (canon)

Summaries under the cut!

1. Revolutionary Girl Utena (39 episodes + 1 movie, 1997) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Copied from the Yuri Anime Masterlist post, since technically it wasn’t marketed as yuri)

When she was a child, Tenjou Utena (Kawakami Tomoko) was saved by a passerby prince, so she decided that she too wanted to become a prince as an adult. Fast forward to high school, and she hasn’t forgotten that conviction: Utena gets sucked into a series of duels while trying to protect her best friend’s honour. After winning the first duel, she becomes ‘engaged’ to the eccentric “Rose Bride” Himemiya Anthy (Fuchizaki Yuriko), and the two start living together in the same dormitory.

First things first: there are a million content warnings for this series, including implied rape, sexual assault, incest, and homophobia. Although the issues are handled well (in my opinion), it does go to very dark places, so those wanting a light, fun anime to unwind to should look elsewhere. Second, this series is very much a psychological drama utilising the episodic duels as a way of hone in on Utena’s opponents and their stories, so Utena and Anthy’s relationship – though important – is definitely not the focus of the anime. Third, the TV series is limited to hinting at the romantic relationship between Utena and Anthy, not to mention that they spend most of the series being little more than acquaintances rather than actual friends. The movie Adolescence (which can be taken as a retelling or sequel, depending on your perspective) is much more explicit on this front, but also suffers from a significantly shorter runtime and a much more opaque approach to storytelling.

That being said! If you’re okay with all of the above, this series is pretty much essential. The simplistic premise belies a much more complex and nuanced story about gender roles, sexuality, and human relationships and remains one of the smartest anime ever made, over twenty years on.

2. NOIR (26 episodes, 2001) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

The first in anime studio Bee Train’s “girls with guns” trilogy, NOIR follows globetrotting assassin duo Mireille Bouquet (Mitsuishi Kotono) and Yuumura Kirika (Kuwashima Houko) as they partner up to search for Kirika’s missing memories and the truth behind Mireille’s parents’ deaths. The series is pleasingly restrained despite the sensational premise, alternating between “business trips” to far-flung locations and snapshots of the pair’s domestic life in Mireille’s Paris apartment, and devoting more time to the unfolding of the relationship between the prickly Mireille and puppy-like Kirika than to action sequences. I won't say too much due to spoilers, but their relationship numbers among my favorites due to how naturally it is developed throughout and how it is very much at the heart of the series both narratively and thematically.

This is also the first anime soundtrack entirely composed by the legendary Kajiura Yuki, heralding a long collaboration with director Mashimo Kouichi, and her mix of classical and modern sounds provides the perfect accompaniment to NOIR’s atmospheric cityscapes. Also, for fans of Mitsuishi’s work (Sailor Moon! Utena! Evangelion!), I’d say NOIR is a must-watch for her performance alone; her Mireille is brittle and proud, and she brings so much humanity and nuance to the role. In fact, I don’t care if you’re a fan of Mitsuishi or Kajiura or assassins or whatever, please just try the first episode— this anime deserves way more love!

3. Puella Magi Madoka Magica (12 episodes, 2011) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Puella Magi Madoka Magica opens with ordinary middle school girl Kaname Madoka (Yuuki Aoi) standing in the ruins of her hometown, watching as a lone girl struggles to defend what remains of the city against a much more powerful enemy. A little rabbit-like creature informs Madoka that the girl is sure to lose without her help, and so Madoka decides to become a magical girl right then and there— at which point she wakes up and dismisses it as a strange nightmare. But then that very day, her school receives a new transfer student who looks just like that mysterious girl, and she also finds a hurt animal that closely resembles the rabbit-like creature from her dream. Madoka is then faced with certain questions: do magical girls actually exist, and will she become one herself?

Since Madoka Magica was all the rage back in the early 2010s, I don’t think it too much of a spoiler to say that the cheery first three episodes hide a dark, gritty story which uses the concept of magical girls to explore the tumultuousness of adolescence. The queer subtext only comes in at the end but tight plotting and inventive presentation make this show a quick watch— and if you’re the type who likes queerness in fiction to be intense, world-shakingly significant, and a wee bit problematic, the payoff should be more than enough. A word of warning: there is a movie sequel called Rebellion, but if you’re happy with the ending of the anime, it’s best not to watch it (although I love the movie, myself).

Side note: I won’t go into it too much due to spoilers but if you liked Madoka Magica you might want to check out Serial Experiments Lain – even if most of it is utterly incomprehensible (as it was to me), it’s worth watching until the very end (wink). Also, for the rare fan of Rebellion, Adolescence of Utena is a must-watch if you haven’t checked it out already; so much can be said about its conceptual and aesthetic influences on Rebellion!

4. Haibane Renmei (13 episodes, 2002) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Note: slight spoilers about the tone and overall themes of the show – but I think it’s necessary for the purpose of writing a more representative summary.)

Written by ABe Yoshitoshi – character designer of cult classic anime Serial Experiments Lain and author of the very unfinished manga which this show adapts and significantly develops – Haibane Renmei starts off as a light-fantasy slice-of-life anime following freshly-arrived Rakka (Hirohashi Ryou) as she searches for a suitable job in the town of Glie, before transforming into a nuanced exploration of grief and depression about halfway through. To say more would be really too spoilery, but I just want to say that this has probably the most grounded and sensitive depiction of depression I have seen in an anime; it shows that sometimes people struggle even if everyone around them is kind and supportive, but remains hopeful about the healing power of time and understanding. The subtext is between the protagonist and Reki (Noda Junko), the first person she meets, who also helps her get acclimatised to her new life in Glie. Again, I won’t say more, but their relationship really is wonderful. That being said, this show does touch upon suicide and suicidal ideation in the course of discussing these themes, so please steer clear if that is something you are wary of.

5. .hack//SIGN (26 episodes, 2002) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

A standalone spinoff of the .hack PS2 games, this show was the most well-known anime about players getting trapped inside a multiplayer game before Sword Art Online’s arrival in 2012 (ironically, Kajiura Yuki composed the music for both). Rather than being an action-adventure story about a heroic protagonist trying to find a way back to the real world, SIGN stands out as an introspective piece, far more interested in the psychology of those who play online games and the issues of human connection and identity. In fact, the female protagonist is all too happy to remain within the MMORPG as male player-avatar Tsukasa (Saiga Mitsuki) after becoming unable to log out; the story is more about how the player grows to accept the real world with the help of the other players she meets, rather than about figuring out the exit route.

On the F/F side, some way into the series, Tsukasa makes an instant connection with fellow player-character Subaru (Nazuka Kaori) and they soon start spending a lot of time together. I really love their scenes together; the series' masterful use of body language, framing, and music all comes together to create these beautifully tender moments of intimacy. Although there’s no kiss scene nor explicit discussion of dating etc., a lot of the other characters talk about their relationship and perceive it as being romantic, to the point where one gets homophobically “worried” about Subaru when they find out that the player controlling male avatar Tsukasa is female. Tsukasa and Subaru's relationship becomes a lynchpin for both characters' development, and in general is used to illustrate the series' underlying themes in a thoughtful and heartwarming way.

6. Read or Die / R.O.D. the TV (26 episodes, 2003) Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

A spinoff of the Read or Die series which takes more from espionage thrillers and Hong Kong action flicks than shounen anime, R.O.D. the TV takes the unusual approach of starting with its main character - elite paper-maniuplating superspy Yomiko Readman (Miura Rieko) - being nowhere to be seen after burning down the British Library in a dramatic resignation announcement. Instead of focusing on her, or the spy agencies clashing in her absence, the story instead follows her friend Sumiregawa Nenene (Yukino Satsuki), who joins up with a trio of sisters with paper-manipulating powers and criminal connections in her quest to find out what happened to Yomiko. The queerness is mainly implied through Nenene's focus on Yomiko, which is unrequited and sadly fizzles out narratively speaking in the back half. Unfortunately, this is coupled with an increased focus on more heteronormative topics, such as Yomiko's grief over her dead male lover, and the child one of the characters had with the villain of the OVA. That being said, I also want to shout out this series' surprisingly earnest depiction of budding queerness in a young (like, elementary-school young) side character - something that is rare in fiction even now.

7. Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury (24 episodes, 2022) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

The most recent entry on this list by far (the final episode aired just a day ago at time of writing), The Witch from Mercury initially seems to forgo the Gundam franchise’s usual grand scale, being set in an academy run by the corporate giant Benerit Group. Main character and new student Suletta Mercury (Ichinose Kana) - the franchise’s first female protagonist since its beginnings in 1979 - accidentally bumbles her way into fighting a mecha duel, and, when she wins, is shocked to find that she is now engaged to the sole heiress of that self-same corporate giant, her classmate Miorine Rembran (Lynn). So far so Utena, but after the first episode, things start to diverge significantly: though the duels continue, the focus shifts to how big-picture tensions such as the manoeuvring within the Benerit Group and the conflict between the space colonisers and people on Earth play out within the student body, and how the arrival of Suletta and her mysteriously cutting-edge mecha start to shake up the status quo… until things come to an explosive head.

For those who curious about G-Witch due to Suletta and Miorine, but who wouldn’t normally be interested in Gundam or space operas, I’ll just say that if the hype has led you to expect a big queer romance where Suletta and Miorine shout their love from the rooftops, well, that’s not how it goes. It’s a mecha anime first and foremost, after all! But lower your expectations and you may be pleasantly surprised. Season 1 offers plenty to enjoy in terms of Suletta’s earnest attempts to be a good “bridegroom” and the tsundere Miorine’s bouts of jealousy over Suletta. And while their relationship takes a bit of a back seat in Season 2 due to there being So Much going on, it remains one of the key elements of the series and their scenes together are the emotional peaks of the season.

Side note: Some might criticise Gundam for taking so long to have a female main character, but let’s not forget about how the even older Ultraman (1966), Kamen Rider (1971), and Super Sentai (1975) franchises still have not had a single mainline series featuring a female protagonist… Come on guys, I’m dying for a female-led Kamen Rider over here!

8. Black Rock Shooter (8 episodes, 2010) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

One of the two anime inspired by the Hatsune Miku song of the same name, this Okada Mari-penned series hones in on the passionate friendships and jealousies of a group of middle-school girls. In a twist that feels informed by the psychological allegory of the popular Persona games, this interpersonal drama plays out in the surreal battle world of the music video, with the titular Black Rock Shooter being the main character’s alter-ego. Of particular interest is the first half’s focus on the blossoming friendship between protagonist Kuroi Mato (Hanazawa Kana) and her shy classmate Takanashi Yomi (Sawashiro Miyuki), which has strong overtones of two girls developing crushes on each other – it doesn’t go smoothly, but hey, that’s life.

9. Izetta: The Last Witch (12 episodes, 2016) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Set during what is basically World War 2, Izetta: The Last Witch asks the daring question of “What if a small European country about to be invaded by alternate-history Nazi Germany could fight back with magic… and what if it was (subtextually) yuri?” The show follows politically-minded princess Finé as she and her best friend (read: girlfriend) Izetta think up ways to leverage the latter’s witchy gifts to save the country from invasion – a rare case of a military anime where female characters are significantly involved at the strategic stage. Those who enjoy the classic princess-and-knight trope may find something to like as long as they are fine with Finé and Izetta not having much relationship development (as their dynamic is established from the start) and them not having many one-on-one scenes together (as the series’ main focus is on the political manoeuvring). Note that this show is also pretty heavy on the fanservice – IIRC there was at least one moment of egregious sexualisation per episode.

Side note: those who like Izetta may also want to check out Last Exile: Fam, the Silver Wing, a female-focused dieselpunk anime with a lot of military strategizing and a very cool world setting, though Izetta is better-paced and the main relationship is much more plot-significant. (That being said I do like the relationship between Fam side characters Tatiana and Alistair… Tatiana is probably the adult character with the most screentime in Fam, being the main characters’ commanding officer, and although it’s very background, she has this cutely settled dynamic with former piloting partner turned wife right-hand woman Alistair.)

10. Violet Evergarden: Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll (movie, 2019) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

(Note: this entry’s a slightly weird one, it only covers the first 40 minutes of this movie due to it being basically two episodic stories smushed together into a single package, and only the earlier story is relevant to this list.)

In this standalone spinoff of the Violet Evergarden anime series – itself an adaptation of the light novel series by Akatsuki Kana – the titular protagonist Violet (Ishikawa Yui) takes a break from ghostwriting letters to serve as companion to aloof young noblewoman Isabella York (Kotobuki Minako) in her last months of finishing school. The story is a quiet coming-of-age tale focusing on how the kind (and rather dashing!) Violet helps Isabella to open up, or, in simpler terms, it’s fodder for butler-and-lady fans. Don’t get your hopes up too much, though: Violet learning about her romantic feelings for her deceased male superior is one of the main throughlines of the anime, and this (half of the) movie also ends with a heterosexual arranged marriage for Isabella. That being said, this movie is really a feast for the eyes, its historical-fantasy setting being brought out with beautiful backgrounds and detailed linework, so it’s worth checking out if you don’t mind the very Class S narrative.

Side note: if you want F/F butler-and-lady or princess-and-knight vibes I would really recommend watching Fate/Zero for Saber and Irisviel – yes Irisviel is already married to one of the (male) main characters and yes Saber is absolutely the main love interest for the famously-straight Fate/stay night, but their dynamic is really good and Saber gets to wear a stylish suit and be all chivalrous to a woman… Please watch the third episode of season 1 at least…

11. Canaan (13 episodes, 2009) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

There’s quite a lot going on in Canaan – perhaps unsurprisingly so for a spinoff of the FMV visual novel 428: Shibuya Scramble, which is famous for its intertwined storylines – but in true action-movie blockbuster style, all you really need to know is that the titular mercenary Canaan (Sawashiro Miyuki) is on a hunt for her mentor’s protégé-turned-murderer, and a lot of flashy fighting is involved. Also, there's no need to worry if you haven't played the original game, as Canaan is pretty much a standalone work and all of the significant characters are original to the anime. Yuri-minded viewers may enjoy her clashes with the villain Alphard (Sakamoto Maaya), but the main source of F/F subtext is her relationship with the young photographer Maria (Nanjo Yoshino), for whom she cares deeply and must rescue on multiple occasions. However, do be warned that the one canonically queer character in the show – Alphard’s subordinate Liang Qi (Tanaka Rie), who is fixated on her boss – is handled very badly, being portrayed as a raving predatory lesbian who is mocked, rejected, and finally killed by the object of her affections. Canaan and Maria’s relationship is also framed very definitively as friendship by the end of the series, although they don’t get paired off with male characters. IIRC there’s also some fanservice but I can’t remember the details as it was a long time ago, sorry.

12. Ga-Rei: Zero (12 episodes, 2008) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Back in the old days, I had heard this show talked about in the same breath as yuri classics such as Kannazuki no Miko and Mai-Hime, and, well, like those series it comes with significant caveats (though thankfully there is no sexual assault). Although it’s a prequel to the Ga-Rei manga by Segawa Hajime, the anime is basically standalone and focuses on original characters Kagura (Chihara Minori) and Yomi (Mizuhara Kaoru), the latter of whom welcomes protagonist Kagura into her family and demon-hunting squad, only to leave the team in a devastating betrayal. After the explosive opening, the series jumps back to explore the events leading up to that point; fans of director Aoki Ei’s work on Fate/Zero should note that the dark tone disappears in the third episode and never quite comes back even when things get serious. Viewers should also keep their F/F expectations in check, since despite the premise I would say the series is more plot- than character-focused, and on top of that a significant amount of time is devoted to Yomi’s relationship with her male fiancé (Yomi and Kagura have more screentime together, but there’s not much development whereas Yomi and her fiancé are given a whole romantic arc). There is one very fanservicey scene between Kagura and Yomi in a car early on (in episode 3?) which viewers may want to skip, but IIRC it’s an outlier and the rest of the series is nowhere near as bad.

Bonus Rounds

1. Sailor Moon S / Season 3 (38 episodes, 1994) (subtext) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Possibly the most widely-known F/F couple in anime, Haruka and Michiru (Ogata Megumi and Katsuki Masako, respectively), make their first appearance in episode 3 of the third season as mysterious newcomers who refuse to work alongside the Sailor Senshi. Apart from being consistently framed as an ideal couple throughout (they practically cruise to victory in a couple’s contest in episode 5 of S3), they also get some juicy narrative moments, being the main subject of the excellent episodes 17 and 21 – the latter being the mid-season climax. They return in S5 but I haven’t watched that season yet.

Side note: Utena fans may be particularly interested to hear that the aforementioned Haruka-and-Michiru-centric episodes 17 and 21 are helmed by key Utena creatives. Both were written by Enokido Yoji, Utena's lead scriptwriter, while episode 17 was directed by Igarashi Takuya (who storyboarded 5 Utena episodes) and episode 21 was directed by Utena director Ikuhara Kunihiko himself.

2. Mai-Hime (26 episodes, 2004) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Way back when, Mai-Hime was very popular among yuri fans for including a canonically queer female character who was in love with another female character… even though, like in Kannazuki no Miko which was broadcast the same year, she commits sexual assault against her. For those still curious, Mai-Hime starts out as a quirky fighting-monsters-and-going to school anime but turns into a battle royale where characters fight each other using robots – the twist being that the robots symbolise their love for the person most precious to them, and if destroyed, that person will die. The queer storyline comes in only in the last quarter or so, but is compellingly told and at least the queer character isn’t quite as maniacal or otherwise demonised compared to some others (looking at you, Liang Qi in Canaan). It's a fun reveal, so I won't spoil it here even if you're likely to have heard of it already.

3. Psycho-Pass (41 episodes + 3 movies, 2012) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

Psycho-Pass is set in a dystopian world where people are rated on their criminal tendencies; the main characters’ job as police officers is to arrest those whose tendencies exceed a certain level. The F/F is canon but very, very background; one of the surprise twists of the finale is that forensics expert Karanomori Shion (Sawashiro Miyuki), whose appearance screams “sexy doctor character” but is played with surprising warmth by Sawashiro, is actually in a relationship with seemingly aloof field officer Kunizuka Yayoi (Itou Shizuka). I only watched the first season and so can’t comment on the rest, but apparently they are still in a relationship in the third season.

4. My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! (24 episodes + movie, 2020) (canon) - Anime News Network | MyAnimeList

An adaptation of Yamaguchi Satoru’s popular light novel series, this show headed the wave of reincarnated-villainess isekai, focusing on the bumbling Catarina Claes (Uchida Maaya) – in actuality an otaku who has been reincarnated into an otome game – as she tries desperately to remove her character’s image as a villainess and thereby inadvertently attracts the attentions of many a suitor. Among this reverse harem are three female characters Maria Campbell (Hayami Saori), Mary Hunt (Okasaki Miho), and Sophia Ascart (Minase Inori).

While the female suitors’ romantic interest in Catarina is generally not undermined or played as a joke, they are not necessarily treated as equally valid options compared to the male suitors - it doesn't feel like Catarina has a real chance of ending up with any of the female characters. I've heard this starts becoming more obvious in S2 (which I haven't watched), which apparently focuses on Catarina's relationship development with one particular male suitor compared to the others. Also, the VN spinoff had 6 routes in total (all 4 male suitors + 2 original male characters) but did not include a single female route, despite being non-canon in nature.

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ps-i-dont-even-know · 17 days

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I was reading a Cherik fanfic a while ago before this thought invested in my brain and won't leave. I'm not sure if anyone has pointed this out with Xmen first class, but if they have great to know, I'm not the only one with this thought.

I noticed the way that Charles and Erik help mutants learn to control their powers and are really different. While Charles has that teacher mindset, where he's inspiring them and telling them that it's alright for them not to get it down right away. Making them feel somewhat comfortable with this mutation they have.

Erik is, in my words, brute forcing them into learning. a scene that comes to mind was when Charles, Banshee, him and Hank were on top of the satellite trying to help Banshee scream enough to push him up in his wing suit. And Erik ignores Banshee nervousness he just pushes the kid, which does work, and the kid is able to create the right frequency to push himself up.

What I'm getting at here is that I think that's the only way Erik knows how to help someone control their mutation. Because he had the same thing happen to, when Shaw killed his mother to get him to move the coin. He only knows how to put someone in that fear, and rage state of mind will get them to do something to protect themselves.

Anyway, it's just a thought that won't leave my head like a nasty bee.

#the way these two devastating gay men have taken over my life is nuts #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #magneto #xmen #xmen first class

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moonshynecybin · 5 months

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I find Marc covered up fully underneath his leathers, upto his neck & wrists, so fascinating when we have the others in half sleeves, mesh or nothing. I can't remember if he always was that way or changed midway, if there was a particular reason? If Alex does the same? It just gives regency era eldest spinster daughter hair tied up tight covered up to the neck waiting for the highest titled rake to come show her the pleasures waiting for her.

marc would be SOOOO good at the kate sharma of it all. like bridgerton season two is in many ways rosquez 2 me. marc WOULD deny himself love and marriage if he convinced himself it would protect alex and vale WOULLD close himself off from love for fear of losing anyone he loved ever again after the untimely death of his [dont worry about it] from a bee sting. perfect set up for vale to decide to court marc's much more agreeable and younger (NOT A SPINSTERRRR) brother who because he needs someone to secure the family's future with and alex is one of the most eligible and educated bachelors on the market. and he knows he will never fall in love with him. whereas marc is known for going on crazy person horse rides (how he first meets vale) and pissing people off. and ALEX is locked in this fun codependency thing with marc, where marc sacrificed so much to get him there from spain and its the only way they can like. still live in the same household because the marquez finances are a lil shaky for regency reasons (alex it should be noted will fall for vale's ward franky SO fast and they shall have their own tortured by familial obligation repressed regency drama please trust this. it WOULD involve alex saving franky from bandits. again trust.)

so anyways vale commits to courting the idea of alex. butttt marc and vale. kind of hit it off. chemistry! goofballs ! a game of crochet that legitimately turns a little dangerous (marc is. cheating the whole time lmao. vale is ALSO cheating he is kicking balls into the bushes and. possibly. checking out marc's ass when he bends over to fetch them. victimless crime looking never hurt anyone.) truly luca meets marc and is like lovely to meet the man my brother plans to marry :) and alex vale marc are all like. um. hah. about that. EVERYONE can see and marc and vale are down fucking horrendous but are cutting themselves off from love so aggressively its UPSETTING ! vale CANNOT lose anyone he loves and marc will sacrifice EVERYTHING for alex's future so they are locked in horny tension for monthsss. it is. insanely horny close proximity sniffing. it is. dancing at balls probably more than is strictly proper. it is. marc getting pushed into a body of water and having to strip off his paper thin old-timey shirttttt. getting wayyyy too into betting on horse races like they are throwing elbows. alone in various well dressed rooms breathing the same air SO much yearning and holding back because like. they CANT do that to alex (alex. does not want that man lmao).

until finallyyyyy its alex and vale's wedding day and marc feels like hes going to THROW UPPPPPP. worlds saddest little spinster. pale sad brave face on. but he walks in and vale is just. he cant take his fucking eyes off marc. at the alter in a church in his best suit. he cant stop looking at him. and he feels like hes going to cry but he doesnt know why. and alex walks in and looks at the two of them looking like they want to DIE and it clicks. right then. that theyre in love (huge relief off of his shoulders tbh. already sexting franky via horny letter in his mindpalace) like alex KNOWS his brother and he KNOWS the only way get marc to stop doing something self destructive is for alex to tell him he doesnt have to. so he turns away from vale and he takes marc's hands. and he calls of the wedding.

BUT that doesnt resolve our central conceit on vale's end. what do you do when the scariest thing in the world is the person you love dying. and that is a belief that has been informed by person you love dying trauma. well in vale's case you simply have to realize YOU ARE ALREADY IN LOVE... TOO LATE IDIOT. having them and MAYBE losing them is better than never having them and losing them ANYWAYYY. so in this its like. the wedding falls through, alex marries franky so hes fine, and marc gets in a HORSE RIDING ACCIDENT ! and its uh. not looking good. and marc almost DIES and vale wasnt even THERE and he didnt knowwww how vale feels. he never got to be with him :( truly life is fleeting go fuck your twink :( finds out marc is going to be okay and cries for hmm. maybe the first time in ten years? and then they get married :)

#thinking about marc saying once my brother is married i will return to spain and vale being like. haha what. what do you mean by that.#like i don’t think marc would actually leave franky but if franky and alex are good to go back marc is GONEEEE #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez #this is too long and i looked at it for so long. be free.#*leave alex. whatever you understand.

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bigassmoth · 4 months

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Sebastian Michaelis x phantomhive manor resident, gnc reader. 2nd pov r18

contains: obsessive behavior, invasion of privacy/personal property, scent kink, deranged pining, monster anatomy, monster fucking. Not proof read im sorry

You tolerated him most days. Some days you treated him as if he were irredeemable, as snarls and cold shoulders. But on some rare days where the weather suits you, your linens are laundered, your work complete, and your skin hydrated- you are amicable. He treasures those rare and unpredictable days where you humor him with your curious gaze and relaxed smile. Sebastian was trying to increase the frequency of those occurrences, which is why he had taken to washing your sheets (along with his own and his masters since he is doing a batch anyway) once a week. In the past he had offered to always strip and dress your bed for you but you refused with a warning hiss. So he waited until Finny had stumbled across a bees nest in a briar patch (how did that get there?). You were half-heartedly jogging to Finny with a first aid kit, the urgency of his injuries more important than your weekly bed wash.

"Ah, today is laundry day. Have you put it in the basket?" He called out to you from the window. You skipped to a halt and barely cast him a glance.

"No I didnt have time. Dont worry about it." Ah, of course you wouldnt have the time, he didnt let you.

"Very well, I will fetch it for you then." Sebastian finished with a soft smile and quickly moved away from the window. Outside you were shouting your grievances, still not wanting him in your room, but he pretended not to hear it. Although his heart did quiver when he heard you not so quietly growl out 'snoopy bastard'.

So, he had time while you patched up Finny, time which he spent curled up on your bed. Of course he entered your room frequently, especially while you slept. But it was a new experience to replicate your position and bury his nose into your sheets. He fondly nuzzles your pillow and contentedly sighs.

For 15 days you had not given him one of those wry, warm smiles. For 10 of the days you were indifferent, speaking to him when spoken to, meeting his gaze and then sliding away in easy distraction. For the other 5 you were oppositional. Your eyes held unveiled annoyance everytime he called your name. You would click your tongue when the someone else spoke his name. You were short, clipped, and slipped away from him at every opportunity. No doubt if you saw him like this now your mood would be soured for weeks. You would look at him with disdain and shower him with insults.

Just imagining it sent blood to his cock and left him panting. Sebastian shamelessly pulled his pants down and bit into your pillow while he rocked into his hand. The fantasies grew unchecked.

He hopes to someday have you subjected to his sexual whims. He would pull you into a closet and tease you then take your underwear- leaving you bare for the rest of the day. If you were to take off your underwear and place it into his waiting hand, your expression would be beautiful. It would be annoyance, anger, and the subtle look of pride knowing articles of clothing was enough for him to bargain over. You wouldnt give him anything until he proved himself to you first. A favorite dessert, a nice pen or jewelry piece, a full spa. On the other hand if he took your underwear, your reaction would be exquisite. Eyes wide in surprise, instinctively jerking away but unable to escape him, so focused on his invasive fingers caressing your sex that you dont notice he has stolen your protective fabric until the wetness hits your thighs.

In your bed, Sebastians cock has shed its human appearance. It is a surface of warty bobs and viscous slime atop the soft-scaled purple fleshed tentacle. It curls around his wrist and fucks itself into his hand. Your smell compels it, the demonic organ drawn to rubbing itself against your sheets until Sebastian is fully grinding into your bed.

He misses your teasing grin and gentle joking from 16 days ago. He imagines your breathy laughter as his infernal body rubs against yours in unrestrained lust. Would you say something sarcastic? Would you chide him in good nature? Would you compliment him? Your amicable moods are unrivaled in sexy appeal. Teasing but sweet, relaxed yet curious.

Of course he loved it when you were mean too, if you would degrade him for behaving like the inearthly animal he is. If your presence in bed was orders and dissatisfaction until he pushed you to the brink of your bodys limits.

But in your bed smelled like peace, it was safe and warm. He wished he could feel your fragile arms wrap around him as he drilled into you. Hold your trembling legs while you sigh into his neck. He would bury himself into your glistening warm, he would hold you in his darkness. So satisfied and enraptured with him those 10 days of indifference would never happen again.

Sebastisn cums hard and gasping. His claws had come out along with several of his limbs. Your sheets...no, your entire bed, was ruined. With his own hellish musk filling your room, your scent vanished. Sighing at his lack of self control, Sebastian resumed the shape of his butler self. And spat out the feathers from your pillow.

With the inhuman speed and precision he was known for, Sebastian cleaned your room and moved his mattress into your bed frame. He tenderly spread on the new sheets and fluffed your new pillow. A shudder of pleasure rippled down his spine, you would be sleeping in his bed, in the object that occupied his space and vulnerability (well, as vulnerable as a demon pretending to sleep for fun can be). His scent fills your room, his cum is designed to be deep and tempting. The scent only outmatched by the unholy flavor meant to appeal to the human palette. On top of that is his chosen signature scent, roses and cedar wood. A floral and woodsy smell that drew the attention of men and women alike for its complexity.

As one hell of a butler he leaves you a small vase of roses from the garden (from the briar patch Finny fell into-). You would return to your room and feel at ease seeing that all of your belonging are untouched. Sebastian had made a mistake, he tells you, and the sheets had to be tossed. These new ones are from storage, explaining the non-laundered linen scent to them. You assume the roses as an apology. The bed you sleep in is just as comfortable as its always been, and you even got plenty of time with your hand. The next day you feel (sexy?) Safe and sufficiently destressed.

Sebastian is happier than usual. Much more smug than usual too. After breakfast you delicately nudge him with your elbow.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary, Sebastian. Good news?" Your comment earns you a most blood-chilling smile.

"Oh, nothing in particular. Did you sleep well?"

Ah, your poor head butler. Always looking nefarious and evil even when doing the most mundane things. You pat his back.

"I slept wonderfully. Dont worry about the sheets, the ones from storage are just as soft."

He seems happy to hear it, too bad his happy face looks like he just got away with something sick and depraved.

#sebastian michaelis #black butler smut #demon smut #yandere smut

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nicole-timey-wimey-stuff · 5 months

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Somewhere only we know

Part 1

Young Daryl Dixon x Reader (no apocalypse AU)

Read part 2 here

Synopsis- No outbreak and modern ish day AU (set in 2007-2010 era) Reader moves to the Georgia mountains, to live with her dad for her final year of school, as her mum is going travelling with her new husband. She meets a shy redneck boy with a tragic background, who immediately captures her heart.

Warnings - mentions of abuse, tragic upbringings, mentions of injury, feelings, friends to lovers, judgemental town people, readers dad is a sweetheart, reader has good relationships with both parents, but her mum is described as flakey and free spirited. My terrible writing as always (this is me practicing 🤣) slow burn, no outbreak, not cannon at all obviously, love confessions, reader sticking up for Daryl, both reader and Daryl being protective, smut in later chapters but not this one.

Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything

Word count - 3.8K

It was the start of fall, leaves were beginning to change and a cooler breeze was starting to hit the small town you were now going to call home. Green valley resided in the mountains of northern Georgia, population 680 people. It was where your Dad had bought a mountain cabin, just outside of town with a 100 acre orchard. He had purchased the property just over a year ago, in hopes of a slower life. He sold his Californian condo, and made the lengthy move to Georgia.

Your parents divorced when you were 12 years old, it had been a long and lengthy process, and they hadn’t left on the best of terms. Your mum took sole custody of you, but you stayed holidays and the summer period with your dad. Even so you had a great relationship with both your parents, growing up had been pretty uneventful, though your mum was somewhat of a free spirit. Now you were 18 years old, in your final year of high school and full of life. You’d inherited the free spirit of your mother, but the hard working mind of your dad.

Your mum had moved on with her life re marrying a lovely man called Ari, he was also very much a free spirit, and they’d planned a two year travelling trip together. This is what had lead you to leave your shared home in Arizona, and move in with your dad at his new mountain home. You had a good feeling about this move, maybe small town life would suit you? Would it be quieter life or an adventure? You didn’t know, but you were excited to find out.

Perched on the passenger seat of your dads Chevy truck, you drove through the valleys and mountains in comfortable silence. Taking in the sights, the gorgeous autumn colours and breathing in the fresh air. You wound down the window letting your arm fall out, pushing your fingers through the wind.

“It’s good to have you home kiddo” your dad admitted, “It’s going to be nice having you with me again” he continues, nodding contently to himself.

“Yeah” you smile, “I’ve missed this, the two of us hanging out”. He turns to give you a genuine smile, it must be lonely being in the mountain lodge by himself, you decide. Pulling up outside the cabin you gasp “wow” you exclaimed, it’s much bigger and prettier than the pictures he sent you showed. A beautiful stone wrap around porch and neat log exterior, there’s a few planted trees out the front, and gas lamps adorning the entry way. It looked like something out of a fairytale, and you were incredibly excited to see the inside. Taking your phone out, you quickly snap a few photos to send your mum.

Your dad smiled at your childlike wonder as you admired the cabin. “I’m glad you like it honey bee, let’s get you all settled in”. The inside was just as lovely, large brick fireplace and open planned living downstairs, three large bedrooms with en-suites and a study upstairs. Your dad showed you to your room, then gave you space to unpack and settle in. Once unpacked and showered you came down to your dad serving dinner, “I don’t know if your hungry, but I made your favourite, at least I hope it’s still your favourite?” Your dad asks with a small laugh.

“It most certainly is! Thanks dad”

“Good” he nods.

“Ummm God, this is amazing” you groan happily. Your dad huffed a laugh, “I forgot how good your cooking is! Mum’s terrible, we end up with burnt dinner or takeout most nights” you laughed.

“Well I’m glad to get a proper home cooked meal into you then!”

“Soo I spoke to your new head teacher and the school is giving you this next week off, to you know settle in. Then you start a week Monday, so I thought you could spend some time this next week, getting to know the town and the area. We can go for lunch tomorrow in town if ya like?” Your dad explained.

“Yeah that all sounds great dad” you agreed.

One whole week to settle in, yeah that sounds ok you thought. Gives me time to maybe get to know some people too, get to know the route to school. You ate in comfortable silence, before helping your dad clean up and get an early night, it had been a long day and you were exhausted.

_______________________________________

The next morning you woke to birds chirping and leaves rustling. Golden rays were casted through your window causing a warm glow, floating dust particles visible in the streaks of light. A soft breeze was filtering in through the small crack you left open last night, hoping to remove some of the evenings humidity. You determined right then that waking up like this in nature was wonderful, no cars honking or children screaming like the busy neighbourhood you lived in back in Arizona, just peace.

You spent the morning folding your clothes into draws, setting up your laptop and organising your desk space. Before getting ready for lunch out with your dad, you decided faded jeans and a band tee would work, it was exciting to get out and see your new local town, but a little overwhelming too. It was a big change from your life before, and an adjustment period would definitely be needed. Nonetheless it was nice to be spending some quality time with your dad.

“You ready to go kiddo?” You dad calls up the stairs.

“Yeah! Now coming” you yell back, bounding down the stairs.

Driving to town didn’t take long, you watched out the passenger window paying attention to the area and the amenities. The lakes, mountains and colourful leaves were so picturesque.

The town centre was small but well equipped. From what you could tell there were a few restaurants, at least three coffee shops, a hardware shop, a post office, a supermarket, a couple of convenience stores and a surgery. Not including the school and garage on the outskirts.

Pulling up outside a small timber clad diner your dad parks and grins at you, “Your gonna love this place! They have the best pie and great views of the lake” he stated. “Awesome!” You reply hopping out the truck.

Walking inside you take in the place, there’s large windows placed all along the back of the diner, looking out directly onto the lake, there’s warm lighting and the whole place has a very cozy feel. An older woman about 60-65 years old you guessed came bouncing over. “Well hi Allan it’s good to see you, this must be your beautiful daughter I’ve heard so much about?!!” She gushed

“Hey Susie how are you? You’d be right, this here’s my daughter y/n” your dad replied to the bubbly woman.

“Hey it’s nice to meet you” you added

“Isn’t she a sweetheart Allen, you must be so proud, you know y/n your dad here hasn’t shut up about you coming for weeks now” she sang, playful glint in her eyes. You smiled kindly back at her, feeling relatively embarrassed by the attention. “Well you choose a seat hunni, and I’ll be right over to take your orders” she continued before walking off.

“She seems friendly” you stated. Your dad lets out a laugh at your uncomfortableness, “Yeah, small town honeybee. Everyone knows everyone here and they all talk, a lot” he emphasises. “Hmm” you sigh this was something you’ll need to get used too.

You chose a seat with a view by the large windows, and as if reading your mind he hummed “You’ll get used to it.

After lunch you both walked through the town, while your dad stopped at the convenience store to collect some necessities, you busied yourself looking through the aisles, choosing some snacks for yourself. You could hear your dad chattering to the woman on the cashier, everyone in this town really did know everybody. When you looked up your eyes met a pair of bright blue, belonging a boy around your age with scruffy light brown hair, worn clothes and a couple of cute moles adorning his face. You smile at him, he offers a small smile back before looking away bashfully. “Hi, I’m y/n” you offer, “Daryl” he mumbles back.

“It’s nice to meet you Daryl, do you live around here?” You ask.

“Yeah umm not too far, jus down by da creak” he replies. You offer another warm smile, “I’ve just moved here with my dad, maybe I’ll see you round?” You add. Daryl nods looking at his feet, he seems incredibly shy you think.

“Y/n, you done?” Your dad calls, you follow his voice to the checkout and hand him the two candy bars you’ve chosen. “Just these please” you confirm. You look back to the other end of the shop seeing Daryl chatting with another guy, probably in his late 20s.

“I wouldn’t talk to that boy if I were you” the lady on the cashier interrupts your thoughts. You take the time to read her name tag ‘Wendy’ “Hmm” you reply “why not? He seems nice enough, awfully shy” you continue.

“They are the Dixon’s the taller one is the older brother Merle, he’s always causing trouble, in and out of jail. Their dad is a drunk, and lord knows he hits those boys. The older ones left home now but comes back frequently. Daryl’s in school still so he still lives with his dad. It’s only a matter of time before he starts behaving the same way, I’m sure of it” she rants in whispered hush. You frown, you don’t like that. He’s done nothing wrong yet, but already branded by the town because of his family. But before you can say anything your dad pipes up “Well we best be going, lots to do before this one starts school”. “Well good luck sugar just pay mind to what I said, you seem like a sweet girl, and this town talks” the cashier lady implores. You give a tight lipped smile before leaving with your dad.

The walk back to the car is deadly silent and you are stewing your inner monologue ‘how dare she’ and ‘if she knows he’s hitting the boys, why hasn’t anything been done?’. Your dad turns to you reading you like a book, “Hey I get it, you don’t like injustice I know that” he interrupts your thoughts, looking up at him you sigh “It just doesn’t seem fair”. “I know baby girl, if you want to befriend that boy, you do it. I know we raised you to be kinder than that, and hey you could use a friend” he replies. You smile at him “Yeah maybe I’ll see him at school” you nod agreeing with your dad.

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Three days pass in a blur, you sign up to the local surgery and check all your medical details have been passed over correctly. You find the local library and spend most of Monday getting lost in books, you try a local cafe and enjoy drinking your coffee while walking around one of the lakes. You even chat to a few locals, getting to know the town better. But your mind keeps reeling back to the boy with the blue eyes, Daryl Dixon, you’d never met someone so painstakingly shy before, and your a bit shy yourself hating being the centre of any attention.

Wednesday comes around and you need to pop by the school to get your class schedule, your dad takes you so he can get any needed information too. Stood in the principles office, going over everything you’ll need, your mind wonders off. While your dads chatting up a storm, your gaze wonders out of the window.

You spot him sitting under a tree with a sketch pad or writing book in his hands, it’s too far away to really make out. But he’s sat all alone, while all the other kids hang out in their favoured groups, Daryl just sits by himself quietly. This boy has really intrigued you, does he not have any friends to sit with? Are the kids in this school as cruel as the narrow minded adults who roam this town.

“Excuse me miss” you interrupt, “Could I please have a wonder round? Get my bearings before Monday?” You ask politely. “Yes of course you can dear” she replies handing you a piece of paper “Here’s a map, so you don’t get lost, take half an hour or so, there’s a lot I need to go through with your dad here anyways” you explains. You nod thanking her before exiting the room, one mission in mind, finding your way over to Daryl.

Navigating the schools corridors wasn’t too difficult, and you found yourself by the back doors which lead the the playing field fairly quickly. You spotted the large tree smiling to yourself when you found he was still sat underneath its shady branches, lost in whatever he was doing. You slowly approached trying to not startle him, when your figure casts a shadow he looks up squinting from the suns rays, slight frown between his brows. “Hey” you hesitated, worrying now that you had overstepped. But once he realised who you were he visibly relaxed, “Hey yer the gurl from da store Saturday rite?” He questions, his southern drawl thick ‘and adorable you find’ “Yeah that’s me, do you mind if I sit?” You ask, he gestures for you to go ahead, so you ungracefully plop down next to him. “What year are you in if you don’t mind me asking?” You request, smiling at him slightly hoping to put the shy boy at ease.

“I’m in ma final year, tho this is ma second time tryin’ I’m nineteen. You?” He replies, he’s nervously fiddling with a small twig on the floor, cheeks tinged pink. “I’m in my final year too, I’m eighteen. I’ve just moved here from Arizona. I was living with my mum, but she and her new husband wanted to go travelling, so umm I came here to live with my dad for a while” you explain.

“So wat ur ma just made you leave?” He questions small frown returning.

“Oh no no, not at all” you reply crossing your arms in motion with your reply. “No I decided to live with my dad again, I’ve missed him and it’s quieter here, I was ready for the change” you continue. Daryl gives you a Quick look before nodding at your statement.

“You startin' here soon den?” Daryl mused, “Yeah I start Monday” you reply with a smile, your eyes meeting his blue. Daryl looks forward then his brows pinching together, “Well I wudnt be seen wiv me if ya hopin’ to fit in wiv everyone here” Daryl sighs. “I don’t care what anyone here thinks, and you shouldn’t have to feel like that Daryl” you affirm. He turns to you worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, you can tell he’s not used to this, kindness, and it breaks your heart. He makes a small grunt, before fiddling with the twig again. “Anyways I like you Daryl, I’ll look forward to seeing you again Monday” you smile, before getting up to head back towards the school to find your dad.

Daryl watches after you as you leave, face as red as a tomato. He’s never had someone actively seek him out before, and he doesn’t really know how to take it. But he likes you too, you seem sincere and kind, there’s not many like that in this town. He smiles thinking that maybe he himself is looking forward to Monday too.

_______________________________________

It was Friday morning and by now you were becoming a little stir crazy, your dad was great he really was, but he was aloof at times. You think he was trying to give you some space, maybe you were just so used to your erratic mother constantly talking your ear off, and her demonstrative personality. Therefore making your dad seem rather quiet and distant, he checked in to make sure you had what you needed though, and he always spent meal times with you.

This morning he was tending his orchard, getting it ready for the autumn harvest, you knew he had hired some helpers to help him sort things, he’d said this may take most of the day, so you needed to find a way to entertain yourself.

After sipping your morning coffee peacefully on the porch, watching the trees rustle in the breeze, you decide maybe a hike in the forest would do you the world of good. So you pack up a bag of necessities, grab your hiking boots, a map and set off.

As you walk through the forest trails, the sun casts through the trees causing halos of soft glowing light, dew drops hang off branches and it’s all breathtakingly beautiful. You pause for a moment breathing in the forest air, and listening to the sounds of nature, until you hear a soft sniffle. You quietly pad yourself in the direction of the sound, it was definitely a person softly crying ‘what if someone’s hurt or lost’ you think. So you hastily make your way over, coming to a small clearing, where there’s a beautiful tiny meadow tiny flowers and fluffy dandelions fill the space. But there sat in the middle is Daryl, he has his head in his knees and his arms are hugging his legs.

You slowly walk over towards him treading as lightly as possible to not startle him, but he hears you instantly, his head snapping up in your direction. “Wat do yer want” he snaps, you recoil slightly, however you can see he’s hurting so you swallow it down and continue your way over. “I heard you from back there, I was out on a walk” you reply hesitantly. Daryl nods wiping his eyes with the back of his hands ferociously, you can see he hates to be seen in such a vulnerable moment.

You plonk yourself down next to him “Want to talk about it?” You ask. He debates this for a moment, he hates being open and vulnerable, but he can’t remember the last time he had anyone to talk too, Merle was never emotionally available, hell he was barely ever physically available these days. So he swallows down his pride “Ma dad was out last nigh drinkin, came in about three this mornin’ I woke up from his bangin, tried ta help him ta bed. He didn’t take it too well” he sniffled, Daryl looks at you then and you can’t help the small gasp when you see his eye, which was clearly hidden by his mop of hair before. It was black n blue and very swollen.

“Oh my goodness Daryl! One second I have a iced water bottle in my bag” you swallowed, you search through your back pack pulling out the bottle and the spare vest top you carry, wrapping the bottle in the fabric you place it over his eye as gently as you can muster. He still flinches, like you were going to hurt him and your heart shatters. “Here it will help with the swelling and bruising” you offer, and he lets you help him then, carefully watching you as you hold the iced bottle over his bad eye. He’d never had anyone look after him like this before, never been nobody who cared enough to help him. He finds himself leaning into you then, and you have to hide your smile by biting your bottom lip. You notice then his lips bust too, dried blood around it “Here hold this in place, I have some alcohol wipes in here for those cuts” you affirm, letting go of the bottle and searching you bag once more. Finding your small first aid kit you pull out the wipes, ripping the packet before shuffling closer to him again. “This may sting a little sorry” you sympathised, he lets out a small hiss as you gently place it on his lip, dabbing the alcohol into the cut and cleaning off the blood, before doing the same to the cut on his eyebrow.

“There all done, just keep that ice on your eye for a bit ok” you advise. “Ok” he agrees. You spend the rest of the day with him, chatting about everything, even if it was you doing most of the talking. You find out that the meadow is halfway between both your homes, he tells you more about his dad and how nothings ever been done because people don’t care about rednecks like them, Merle got away, got involved in drug deals and fights, left Daryl to deal with their abusive father on his own.

Daryl tells you how he spends most of his time in the forest when he’s not at school, to get away from his dad, but that his father barely notices when he’s gone. He hadn’t gone into school today after his dad beat him, he just ran here. You decide then you’d do your upmost to help him, there was just something about this boy, he captured your attention that first day in the shop, but just a few days in and he’s already stolen part of your heart.

By then time you arrived home early that evening, you had a unmissable smile on your face, your dad notices straight away “You enjoy your hike honey bee? Thanks for the note I’d have worried otherwise” he comments. “Yeah it was nice, I spent the day with Daryl, bumped into him on the trail” you smile. “Ah I see, I’m glad you’ve made a friend” he answers “You hungry? Dinners almost ready” “Yeah starving!” You declare.

Laying in bed later that night you pull out your phone, you’d exchanged numbers with Daryl earlier and couldn’t wait to message.

‘Hey, fancy a walk around the south lake tomorrow?

Y/N’

‘Yah sure, thnks fer today, 10am ok?’

You grin instantly at his reply,

‘Yeah perfect, meet you there? Or I can pick you up?’

‘Nah I’ll meet ya there’

‘Ok see you tomorrow, goodnight Daryl’

‘Nite y/n’

You were really looking forward to tomorrow now.

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#daryl dixion x reader #young Daryl Dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #no apocalypse

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