#the whole reason i had to stop using it was because people kept trying to hit me with their cars when I'd walk through parking lots
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After being out Way longer than I wanted to and having Very scary and stressful encounter I am exhausted. I need to cuddle with Zooble I think that will fix me <3
#I was told we'd only be out for like. a few minutes but we were out all day I was not prepared for that at all </3#and then at walmart I got chased down by someone tryingto hit me witha shopping cart#idk why they were chasing me but immediately after my mom intervened they immediately started chasing a man on a motorized cart#and I was limping because my knee was acting up again#soooo idk how I'm not supposed to think that was ableism#I mean. I've dealt with things like that before when I used to use a cane#the whole reason i had to stop using it was because people kept trying to hit me with their cars when I'd walk through parking lots#anyway sorry to rant but that encounter is the whole reason i'm so exhausted#GOD I am so tired of dealing with ableism from people#Zooble would gladly beat up anyone who is ableist to me <3#idk if this needs to be tagged as a vent#it's more of a rant than a vent
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How’d they react to you calling them bro or dude whilst in a pre-established relationship…(platonic/romantic)
Dick: he’s insulted.
Gutted.
He will try to give you the silent treatment for such a shameful thing but ultimately fails as he ends up being the one pawing at you for attention.
‘Do you still like me? Or did you just run out of cute nicknames to call me?’ He’d say one night as your both cuddling in bed together. ‘If it’s the later then I can help you find something, just please spare me and don’t call me dude or bro anymore.’
He’d rather you call him Richard-wait, no he hates that even more because to him you’re not meant to use his fully name, only cutesy nicknames that’d make a grown man sick to his stomach. Nothing else would suffice other than Dickie bird, handsome, babe, hunk, honeybun or anything that wasn’t his name.
He’s go mad or would act delusional and say that everything was fine when everyone could tell that it wasn’t. People who know him have personally came to you and begged you to stop calling him dude/bro because he kept talking their ears off about how his beloved partner is torturing him, which ends up torturing them even more upon hearing about his relationship issues.
Dick would even consult Hayley on what he did wrong, only for Hayley to look at him with those big, big eyes of hers. This was not her level of expertise unfortunately. (Head empty, no thoughts. She can’t do her abc’s guys it’s a real tragedy.)
Jason: ‘I just had my tongue down your throat just now and you had to go and ruin the mood by calling me bro. What the fuck.’ - Jason at some point.
It’s a whole mood killer for him to be honest.
He’s calling you things like chipmunk or sweetheart but here you were calling him dude and bro. He knows for a fact that he’s well and truly out of the friend zone because the shit you’ve done together isn’t platonic in any sort of way.
Thinks Roy had set you up to call him dude or bro behind his back. (He hasn’t)
Jason is petty and will get his own back by referring you as ‘just a really good friend’, ‘buddy o’ mine’ or even worse than both of those; ‘chum.’ 💀
When you go low, Jason was more then willing to go to the depths of fucking hell to the point it had become a game to see who’d call out just how stupid this all was, and at the both of you for ever thinking that this was an excellent idea in the first place.
You’ll probs get punished…I’m just going to leave it there and let your minds guess what that ‘punishment’ was exactly.
Damian:
As much as Damian hates it when you call him Dami, he hates it when you call him dude or bro even more, if that’s even possible.
Damian hates it when you call him dude or bro. He’s not your dude or bro, he’s your partner and he expects no less then darling, my heart or my beloved.
So you calling him dude or bro is more than enough reason for him to give you the silent treatment.
‘Until you learn that I am your partner, I won’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re going to keep calling me your bro or dude. It is a disservice to who I actually am to you.’ He says with a huff and beckons Titus to follow, only for the Great Dane to be left confused as to why his human parents were at a disagreement over something silly.
Also Titus, Ace, Jerry, Alfred the cat, Goliath and BatCow are children of divorce because I said so.
So it’s bests that you apologise while you still can because Damian can hold a grudge unlike any other. Even if you didn’t, you’d still crack first before Damian and quickly put an end to calling him dude/bro.
He just thinks being called a dude/bro when in a pre-established relationship is an insult.
He can take a joke but not when it’s aimed at his relationship. He’s well and truly devoted to his relationship -if we’re to completely ignore the whole being Robin thing- that it might as well be an insult towards him too at this point.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#damian wayne x y/n#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#dc fluff#nightwing x y/n#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing x reader
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𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.
Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!
Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)
Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.
Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.
“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.
Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?
Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.
He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.
If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.
He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!
It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~
You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.
He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.
He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!
He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.
When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!
Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!
His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.
He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.
One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.
Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.
Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.
He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.
Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.
“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”
Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.
He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.
He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)
He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.
The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.
Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.
You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!
He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.
He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.
Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.
Now let’s talk about Vox.
Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.
He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.
Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.
Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.
Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin demon#alastor#Alastor and vox#Hazbin hotel#helluva boss vox#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin valentino#charlie morningstar#hazbin niffty
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drains me slowly
pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader
summary: deadpool finally invites you, the coworker he has a massive crush on, over, which means the two of you end up doing more than just watching a movie.
tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, pain kink, use of superpowers to fuel a pain kink, light masochism, teasing, gentle dom, hand job, scratching, body worship
wc: 3.3k
a/n: fic inspired by the new deadpool movie coming out!!! also, title is from love me dead by ludo.
No surprise that Wade wasn’t exactly anyone’s favorite– that goes for among the heroes he’s worked with and throughout his life in general. He’s – to put it in the kindest way anyone’s ever told him – fucking annoying. Oh, he’s more than aware that he’s a little too out-of-pocket, abrasive, impulsive– a nightmare to interact with, really. And those were just the recent comments made by the closest thing he has to coworkers! The shit he heard from people growing up was leagues worse.
Look, having a rough start in life isn’t uncommon and he’s sure as hell not gonna get the tiny violin out for himself and throw his own little pity party, but he’s grown enough since his healing factor got beat out of him to acknowledge that he’s had it tough over the years.
He’s still going, though! Yeah, he may not always be the best at doing his laundry quick enough to get any clean clothes to wear, or at stopping his room from becoming cluttered with too many half-empty water bottles, but he’s still making it by, day by day.
But, well, it’s still really hard to constantly put himself out there, get assigned – or infinitely more likely, just shove himself into – whatever jobs or missions he feels like taking on when everyone treats him like Jar Jar Binks.
That was until you came along. So, obviously you’re crazy hot – he’s gotta get that out of the way first – but more than that, you were confident. Competent, too, and those rarely coincide in Wade’s experience. You mostly worked on call, joining the occasional mission, battle, or investigation because your mutant powers came in handy often, but you also still kept up with your day job. Honestly, Wade thinks the reason why you weren’t always present in fights was to stop the other mutants from being out of a job. Your ability to slowly deteriorate surrounding biological tissue, while horrifying and a pain in the ass to control – your words – was basically winning on easy mode.
But no, you were adamant about keeping your involvement with the X-Men infrequent– only joining when your presence was absolutely necessary. Apparently nonstop high stress situations aren't good for your mental health– who knew?
And he wants to pretend he became obsessed with you because of all those things, and of course they helped, but really, you had him at hello. Or well, you bothering to say hello and actually talk to him in the first place, to ask him questions about his life in moments of downtime where usually he’d be left with an unenthusiastic audience instead of a warm-hearted listener who actually laughed at his jokes.
So, of course, he has to go and fuck it up.
…
“So, glad that’s over, huh?” Wade says through a smile, the whites of his mask squeezing as his cheeks rise. “Speaking of over, you wanna come?”
“Over?” you shake your head a little, flashing your teeth as you try and comprehend him. “Right after we took on a whole crime ring?”
“Well, what a better time to unwind, am I right?”
“Oh?” you raise your eyebrows. “We’re unwinding?”
It’s small, but you swear Wade ups his talking speed, “Well, yeah, you know. Watch a movie, order in, show you my Pokemon cards, the works.”
You hum, pretending to consider it, “Depends, you got a holo Charizard?”
And now, for sure, he exhales his relief. “You insult me.”
The two of you enter his apartment not long after you’re dismissed from the mission, and Wade briefly excuses himself to change out of his suit. Making yourself at home, you take a seat on the couch and glance across his living room. His apartment is surprisingly nice. The kitchen and living room are one large, open space with a sleek, modern design. Also, you’d assume someone as chaotic as Wade would keep their house in a messier state, or hell, at least a little dusty, but the living room is spotless. Maybe he cleaned recently? What, was he planning on inviting someone over?
Snorting as you shake your head, a small click from across the hall catches your attention.
You’ve only seen Wade on the job, so naturally he’s always been wearing his red suit, but for some reason, you never stopped to picture him wearing civilian clothes. Actually, now that you’re seeing him in a sweatshirt and sweatpants – awfully warm for this weather – you’re struggling to reconcile the image of him you had in your head with the person right in front of you.
Well, at least until Wade brings up a fist to cover his mouth, illustrating his nervousness, and the tension fizzles out. Only Wade has body language that cartoonishly exaggerated.
“Nice sweats, green looks good on you.”
Wade pauses for a moment, registering your words before he giggles softly, arm falling to his side, “I’ve been thinking about changing the color of my suit. You know, hiding all the blood is great and all, but sometimes I gotta wonder – could this thing be more flattering?”
He walks over with a spring in his step before sitting by your side. Cutely, he wraps you up in the larger blanket first before settling the smaller, throw blanket over himself. You try your hardest not to show your confusion outwardly, but seeing Wade up close now has you questioning his outfit all the more.
He’s a bit tall, so the sweatpants don’t go all the way down to his ankles, but Wade’s wearing calf socks, as if he specifically were trying to avoid them being uncovered. Also, his hoodie’s easily a size or two larger, which makes it the perfect thing to wear to lounge around and watch a movie in, but also, the sleeves cover his entire hand sans his fingers. From the little you can see of them, they look puckered in scars.
But obviously Wade’s hands are scarred– he’s a mercenary. He’s handled all sorts of weapons and been in hundreds of fights over the years. You weren’t expecting his skin to be baby-smooth.
What’s interesting to you is why he’d go through all the trouble to hide it.
Also, yeah, the most obvious pointers were that the hood of his sweatshirt is up even though you two are indoors in his own home and – how could you forget this one – his Deadpool mask is still on.
Was he just uncomfortable with sharing his identity in general or was he specifically trying to shove distance between the two of you? Whatever, if he doesn’t want to take his mask off with you, he doesn’t have to. You feel a distinct pang in your chest, but you try not to let it color how you respond to him. He’s more than in the right to only share what he feels most comfortable with.
Wade’s been fiddling with the remote while you’ve been – hopefully – subtly looking him over, and the screen finally changes from a streaming service page to the opening of the movie.
“We’re watching The Princess Bride? I didn’t take you for a romantic.”
He bats his eyes – at least, you think he does, given the mask– and speaks in a sweet voice “Why, me? Oh please, I know romance. I’m not going to invite a lovely, gorgeous, incredible person over and force them to watch Die Hard on the first–”
His back straightens out like he’s been electrocuted before he forcibly relaxes his posture to finish his thought.
“Hang-out.”
Okay, you want to go easy on him, especially because he seems so tense, but you can’t just let that one slide. You close the small distance remaining between the two of you, causing your entire side to press against his. Even through his sweatshirt, you can feel how warm he is.
“Mmm, just a hang out?” you mumble, sliding your head onto his shoulder. You’ve done this before, either for comedic effect or just in an attempt to push his buttons the same way he always tries to push yours – which, despite his best efforts, always ends up endearing him to you instead of bothering you – but never in a context like this.
He inhales sharply, and you count the seconds until he finally lets himself release it. Sometimes, you think he takes his healing factor for granted.
Turning his head to peer down at you, Wade considers you for a moment, keeping his face and body language deceptively neutral. You try your hardest to keep your eyes focused on the movie and your body loose and comfortable.
“You want this to be a date?” he says, flat.
“Why, thank you for asking, dear sir,” you copy his sweet voice from earlier before returning to your normal. “Yes, Wade, I like you.”
“I–” he starts, but the words get caught on their way out. His fingers bury themselves in the material of his sweatpants, and the movement draws your attention to them again. Shades of blotchy red and pink curve all across his skin.
Wade doesn’t say anything, which is concerning enough on its own, but following your confession, you feel like he’s more than out of his element.
“That’s why you invited me over, right?” you try and help him out. “You feel the same, too.”
And then, feeling bold, you turn your head to face his still mask-covered head and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Instantly, you see fireworks go off inside him, because Wade hurriedly shuts the TV off and runs off to close the blinds. There’s barely enough light in the room now to make out shapes, but apparently Wade doesn’t take any issue because he peels his mask back and kisses you on the lips.
His lips are textured, and your intuition flashes quietly in the back of your mind, but for right now, you focus on how energetic he is. If his body is warm, his mouth feels like it’s on fire. He’s constantly moving, trying to experience all of you as fast as possible.
It’s making your face heat up, how quickly he demands your complete attention and how relentless he is in grabbing it. Wade bites your bottom lip, causing you to gasp into him, and he uses the opportunity to explore across your own teeth and tongue. After a few more seconds, you break away, needing the space to breathe.
“Holy shit,” you whisper, voice rough.
“You’re telling me,” Wade coughs out. “We could’ve been doing that this whole time?”
“Well, all you had to do was ask.”
And although you can’t see him, which you know is the point, you understand something in him has shifted. He gets up from the couch, takes you by the hand, and leads you towards his room. His pace is so quick, you barely comprehend his actions until you’re both standing right in front of his bed.
“Is this okay?” he asks, quiet. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him stifle the amount of words he let loose before.
“Yes, of course it is. But Wade, we have to turn on at least a lamp or something in here.”
“We do?”
“Yeah,” you pause to give him a second to think. “I can’t see you at all like this.”
“What if – and you're just going to have to trust me on this one – you’d prefer it this way,” Wade’s voice is light, but it feels like it’s cracking at the edges.
“And why’s that?”
Not like you’d be able to see, but the anxiety radiating off of him makes him sound wide-eyed, “Huh? Oh, I– uh…”
“Look, if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to you having a bunch of scars– don’t. I don’t mind,” the sound of fabric rustling in front of you makes you think he just flinched. “I figured it out. You’re not sneaky.”
“You say that, but…”
“Wade, I don’t care. And I mean that kindly! Really, it doesn’t bother me.”
Wade starts pacing in front of you, nearly tripping on the leg of the bedpost, “Look, I appreciate the whole hero act you got going on here – really fits you good, you should totally quit your day job – but you don’t have to force yourself, I–”
“Wade, you either confront your insecurities head on or I’m not doing this with you. I told you what I think, the only person who’s going to worry about how you look here is you. We either have sex with a light on or not at all, okay?”
No one speaks for a few seconds once you finish saying your piece, and you cringe, realizing how forceful you must have come off. You’re about to speak up again to apologize when you hear a shudder-filled exhale from a few feet away.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he groans. “You’re so hot when you're putting people in their place.”
Your lips curl into a shaky smile, “Yeah, what else do you think is hot?”
And you can practically hear the gears turning in his head from here.
…
It’s actually happening. No fucking way he didn’t dream this up. But you were pretty adamant about him getting his head in the game in order for you guys to actually get down and dirty, so for you, he tries to keep his train of thought as focused as possible– a big ask.
“Bossing anyone – everyone, especially me – around. You using your abilities–” you reach over and find Wade’s hand before running your fingers up his arm. “Shit, umm, using your abilities in general, but, umm, I really like when I’m there.”
“Oh?” you giggle. “When you get to watch, or?”
“When I get to feel.”
Your hand moves over to the nape of his neck, reaching under his hood and mask, to rub at his rough skin. Wade’s nerves light on fire as he waits for you to respond– for some reason, it never feels like your words come out fast enough.
“You got a thing for pain, Wilson?”
He chuckles, “You’d be surprised.”
“Okay, but are you sure? I can try, but it might not be all that good for you.”
“Don’t worry,” he thinks back to all those times he had a hard on while the two of you were fighting together. “It’ll be great for me.”
You hum, “Alright, then, but you tell me to stop the second you don’t like something, okay?”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he salutes, though you probably can’t see it. “And, same goes for you.”
“What a gentleman, letting me destroy him and giving me an out.”
He’s blushing something furious and he’s never been more grateful for the dark, “Anything for you.”
Those are the last words he whispers before he begins undressing. He knows you probably meant for him to strip with the light on, but he’s really not so sure he could stomach being looked at like a bug under a microscope. The attention, while electrifying, was already starting to get to him, so he lets himself stay in his comfort zone a little longer. As a treat.
Once his sweats are off, he hesitantly peels off his mask before slipping into bed, keeping most of his body under the covers. After shutting his eyes, he clicks the lamplight on.
You’re not saying anything. That’s– a sign? A good one, a bad one, Wade doesn’t know. He’s trying so hard to keep his breathing steady, but he can feel his body start shaking all on its own.
You join him on the bed, kneeling next to him, before your warm breath falls across his cheeks as you kiss his forehead. Only then does he open his eyes, and you reward him by cupping his cheek in your hand.
“There,” you say. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Wade gets the strong urge to snort, and so he does, but your eyes narrow. There’s a soft scratching at the back of his skull as you snake your hand over, and quickly you dig your nails in slightly. Wade has to bite his tongue to keep the noise in.
“I’m sorry, is that funny to you?”
“No!” he whispers sharply as you bring your hand down to scratch along the line of his neck.
“Good, seems like you’re learning.”
You kiss him, teeth clacking together at first before Wade melts into it. Your hand is still slowly exploring his body, running along the line of his shoulder and towards his upper arm. When you reach his bicep, you very obviously squeeze the muscle there, and you let out a pleased sigh as you begin groping in earnest.
He wants to turn to hide his face in the pillow, not sure how to react to all the positive attention and appreciation, but you catch him trying to turn away, and you kiss him deeper.
While one hand begins to explore his pecs and abs, your other hand scratches down his v-line, softly caressing the skin of his inner thighs before moving around to squeeze his ass.
Wade rewards you with a small whine, and you carefully trail a finger down his dick. You move in to whisper in his ear, “You’re so hot, I’m not forgiving you for hiding for so long.”
Trying to stifle the embarrassing moan that he knows will come out, he bites down on his lip hard, but you take the hand not teasing his cock to gently pry his lip away.
“From now on, I get to hear you, okay?” you say and Wade nods rapidly.
You take the moment you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and after giving him a second to ready himself, you ask, “I’m going to use it now. Tell me if you want to stop.”
“Okay–” he responds before he feels the sweet sensation of you jerking him off coupled with your power. It’s a humming, dull feeling of pain resting in the background– almost like the sensation of being choked except it’s affecting his entire body. Wade feels like there’s a weight pinning down each of his limbs and it’s so freeing– so relaxing.
He sighs and turns his head to the side, letting out a deep moan when you up the pace of your hand and bring the other to fondle his balls.
“How is it?” you ask, sweat dripping down your brow at trying to control your ability. Sure, it’s powerful and at times pretty horrifying, but Wade always loved how he was essentially immune. At the same rate you could destroy the flesh around you, he could heal his own right back. Just knowing that made him feel good, somehow, like he was made perfectly for you.
“It’s good– so good, I–” he nearly shouts, forgetting about the neighbors.
“Yeah, baby? What do you need?”
At hearing the pet name, he straight up whines as he tries to bury his hands in the sheets instead of his own thighs.
“Not sure, umm, a little more–”
And he doesn’t know which god he has to thank for putting you on this planet, but he’s willing to pay them all a visit. You read him like he’s not some mess, some walking disaster nobody bothers paying attention to, and you give him what you know he needs.
From the base of his chin, you drag your hand in a deep scratch across his neck, chest, and stomach, your eyes watching the pink lines blend in with his scarred skin. It’s a flashing pain, sharp like being scalded and it feels so good mixed with the blunt feel of being under your power.
“I’m gonna–” he says, and of course, you seem to already know. He cums with a deep grunt, rutting his hips into your fist before he thrusts his head forward to kiss you again.
As soon as he comes down, he pulls away only slightly, just so he can say what he’s been wanting to say since he met you.
“Thank–”
You cut him off with another kiss, because sometimes, he really does need to shut up.
#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool smut#wade wilson smut#deadpool x reader#deadpool x gn! reader#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson x gn! reader#marvel#marvel smut#dom reader#sub character#gn reader#smut#deadpool x you#wade wilson x you
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Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
#bamf danny phantom#danny phantom#dc x dp#jason todd#Jason takes him to a library and they pick out books for each other#Danny asks him on a second date and they talk about the book over coffee#and then they watch the stars (Danny uses his ghost powers to clear a patch of sky)#but Danny just kind of watches Jason’s face and goes yeah this is just as good#Danny dngasf#Danny will throw hands with a clown#Danny thinks the Gotham Rogues are kinda cute#with their gimmicks#unimpressed bc they’re kind of obvious#and he’s seen worse and better#danny is Gotham’s Mom Friend
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Part 4 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rods adventure in the mecha au!
Here comes the Sun do do do do- here comes the Sun at Mach five.
———————————————————————
Deadlock needed to kill something. Badly.
He’d kept it together through Ratchets confession. And he kept a relaxed mischievous banter going from the Hangar all the way to Ratchets makeshift clinic. When they finally arrived in Dead En-
The refugee camp. It was called a refugee camp and nothing else.
Deadlock almost transformed in the fragging middle of a refugee camp.
The memory snuck up on him okay?
Ever since he cracked open that one, tiny, memory from before he was Deadlock, pieces of Drift kept floating to the surface.
He gave Ratchet a quick goodbye, saying he needed something to eat. And sped off before the medic could question him.
He needed violence and isolation. Needed to reset his whole damn processor and banging his helm against a hard-organic-stick-thing? Whatever the fuck. Frag? Ugh. It wasn’t working.
He was shaky, couldn’t focus. His chassis felt like it was put inside a vise and someone who hated him had control of the handle.
Ratchet had been a breath of fresh air when Deadlock hadn’t even known he was buried alive. And since then the medic had been stubbornly digging him the rest of the way out.
It. Just felt good.
Being cared for. Being able to relax around someone. And knowing with absolute certainty it wasn’t just an act.
He got used to it. Comfortable with a certain level of vulnerability. Then Ratchet brought in Hot Rod.
If Ratchet was a breeze that slipped inside Deadlocks mental fortress, then Hot Rod was a Fragging bunker busting missile. None of it felt like he deserved it.
Ratchet laid out his spark for judgement. Because Ratchet, amazing and wonderful and impossible Ratchet, didn’t want Deadlock to be stuck with someone like him.
Something shitty inside him whispered, “What if Ratchet doesn’t want to be stuck with someone like him?”
He ignored it. Pushed it down. He didn’t leak coolant over slag like that. He didn’t need people like Ratchet or Hot Rod in his life. He just really, really wanted them in his life. For completely selfish Decepticon-y reasons.
You’d die for them you know.
Shut up.
Deadlock’s processor wouldn’t stop spinning.
He felt exposed.
He felt like slag.
He felt like Drift.
So Deadlock set out to do the most Deadlock thing he could think of.
———————————————————————
Deadlock fucked up.
Deadlock fucked up very badly.
Snow was getting caught in his optics, melting on contact into a slush that made it that much harder to see.
The fragging swarm of quintesson scouts surrounding him were not having that same problem.
They moved in a pack. Smaller and smarter than the standard issue quints that normally devastated the planet, these things unfortunately had a tiny sense of self preservation which made mowing them down that much more difficult.
Deadlock was forced to constantly turn on his peds to avoid the majority of the quints that kept going after his back. There wasn’t a moment he wasn’t beating them off with the stock of his rifle. He couldn’t switch to any close range weapons because if he stopped fighting them off for even a second, the quints would rush him all at once, forcing him to continue.
Couldn’t stop moving for the same reason.
They kept trying to get behind him. Snapping barbed tendrils at the backs of his knees, the gaps of his armor. Trying to force him down.
If I fall I’m dead.
Deadlocks vents were screaming. A brave little fragger went for his face, Deadlock swung his rifle like a bat.
Distraction.
Shooting pain went through the back of his left knee joint. Something with barbs was forcing it apart. Something tore.
Deadlock immediately brought down the barrel through an eye socket and pulled the trigger. Didn’t have time to register if the quint was dead before another one came at him from the opposite side. His peds dragged furrows through the earth and snow. Spinning. He had to keep spinning.
He was slowing.
If I fall I’m dead.
The quints redoubled their efforts to get behind him. More lashes at his back. Another quint darting the other direction. Didn’t even attack. But Deadlock wasn’t ready for the feint and swung at empty air.
The pack leapt at his back as one.
I’m going to die.
Deadlock wedged his rifle between him and the ground. The quintessons tore into his back but the weight was too much to throw off without help.
I’m not gonna see them again.
The rifle dug into his pauldron.
I don’t want to die.
A tendril wrapped around his neck. He clawed at it.
I don’t want to die like this.
One of them was dragging a ped backwards. Forcing his weight onto his injured knee.
I don’t want to die alone.
Drift screamed.
For a moment, from the corner of his blurry optics, he saw a light growing brighter and brighter.
“Huh”, Drift thought deliriously. “I always figured the last light you see before death would appear in front of you.”
IMPACT against the mob at his back sent Drift and the quintesson scouts scattering across the ground.
He fell.
He wasn’t dead.
Deadlock scrambled into an upright kneel, ignoring the lightning like pain shooting up his knee.
Leaning on his rifle, Deadlock saw another mech. Orange and gold with propane blue lights, he had multiple quints trapped in a bear hug. What hit him the hardest was an EM field overflowing with wild, unrestrained joy.
“HOT ROD?!?”
The mecha pilot only got about half the squirmy, bite-y little scrappers in the hold. The other half were quickly shaking off probable Roddy-induced concussions and began leaping at the nearest, newest prone target.
Hot Rod waved.
“Hey dude! Holy shit, that gun looks awesome!” Deadlock looked on in disbelief as more quintessons piled onto Hot Rod.
“What are you doing?! Rod get up!” Deadlock lurched to his feet, his last few thoughts repeated like a skipping track.
I was going to die. I was going to die. Hot Rod is going to die.
The cybertronian rushed towards the mecha. Hot Rod released the remaining quints who quickly turned to join the crushing mass subsuming him.
Hot Rod raised a hand, “Stop! Stop! Don’t get closer!”
Deadlock stopped just short of where the quints would turn on him. “Are you insane?! I’m trying to help you!”
“Just trust me!” Half of Hot Rod’s helm was covered in blackish tendrils. “And then help me in about five seconds!” Orange and gold disappeared under the writhing mass, the light snuffed out before Deadlocks optics.
He finally subspaced his rifle, switching to duel short range handguns that were both messy and loud. He counted five, fucking human seconds.
Something happened to the mass. The squirming suddenly stopped, and in the gaps of the knots surrounding Hot Rod, Deadlock saw something start to glow.
In the next instance, the quintessons exploded off of the mecha. Partially from the act of fleeing, entirely because Hot Rod was completely engulfed in flames.
“WOO! Now the party can get started!” Hot Rod wasted no time in engaging duel flamethrowers and began chasing after the remaining quints with manic glee.
Deadlock stopped questioning shit and started shooting with a vengeance.
Soon enough, the field around them was littered with the quintesson scouts burned and shredded remains.
Deadlocks vents were finally kicking down from maximum and he finally managed to wipe the stupid slagging slush out of his optics.
For the moment his eyes were offline, Deadlock felt a spike of happy that almost bowled him over. A half second before Hot Rod physically bowled him over.
Deadlock’s overtaxed fight or flight systems just gave the fuck up and let the tackle happen.
Hot Rod had him in a tight enough embrace he wasn’t sure he could have gotten away anyways.
“Holy shit I thought you were going to die.” Hot Rod crushed him to his chassis. The twin waves of Worry and Relief were doing things to his processor again. Deadlock (Drift?) was still feeling the aftershocks of it all. Memories skipped again. I’m going to die.
Dea-Dri- he wrapped his shaking arms around Hot Rod. Later, he could just say his knee gave out. Everything was spinning. Wait. No. Hot Rod picked him up and was spinning with him.
“You’re so lil now!” Hot Rod was ecstatic.
Deadlock was back. “Put me down. Gently.”
Hot Rod acquiesced, but seeing Deadlock nearly fall on his own, took the liberty of slinging one of his arms over his shoulders.
“M’kay. You look like shit. Need help walking back to Ratchets? Or can you drive?”
Deadlocks knee and entire back ached, but it wasn’t so debilitating once he’s had a chance to process it for a click.
“Uh, I think I’ll be okay to drive once I get to a road.” Hot Rod pulled him a little more securely into the supporting hold and started walking in the direction of the nearest road.
“Man, that’s still so cool you can do that. I wish I could turn into a car.”
Deadlock snorted, “Oh I’m sure if you keep practicing you’ll figure it out. Try stretching.”
Hot Rod laughed. It was so weird to think there was just a little guy in there. Sitting in like, a fancy cup holder. He sounded like the real thing. Moved like it too. If Deadlock hadn’t met Hot Rod the human first, the uncanny valley would have tipped him off something was wrong, but teeny tiny guy in a big person-puppet would not be his first guess.
Hot Rod stopped short, snapping his helm toward Deadlock.
“Wait. Do you ever drop off Ratchet at the shatterdome?”
Deadlock rolled his optics at the third near spark attack Hot Rod had given him that day.
“Yeeeah?”
Excitement started bubbling over.
“YOU’RE THE MOB BOYFRIEND?!” Hot Rod was stomping his peds while scream-laughing, probably because he couldn’t go for a run without dropping Deadlock.
“Dude! Dude dude dude. Pharma haaates you!”
Well that put Deadlock in a better mood. Albeit, only due to a “misunderstanding”.
“S’not like that. I just give him a lift sometimes. Make sure he doesn’t forget his lunch. Or to take care of himself. We’re not, you know.” Deadlock was pointedly looking the other direction.
Hot Rods cackled at the confirmation of the rumor, and his field steadily shifted towards mischief.
“Oooh Ratchet!” Hot Rod had begun speaking in a falsetto voice. “I love you sooo much! I’m from space but my favorite stars are the ones twinkling in your eyes! I wanna drive you to every beautiful place on this planet and when we finally come home we can watch Golden Girls while you pet my big bald metal head!”
“I’m going to punt you into a fragging Sun.”
Hot Rod laughed harder. He started making some weird wheezing noise that Deadlock hoped meant the imaginary strangling he was doing was working.
“THE UNICRON DAMNED SUN.”
Deadlock’s threatening was severely undercut by the fact that he was laughing now as well. They’d just about made it to the edge of the forest when Hot Rod asked a question that made Deadlock freeze.
“How’d you piss off so many scouts at once anyways? They’re normally way too spread out to all be grouped together like that.”
There were only two times when a pack of quintesson scouts were all gathered in the same place. When they first get dropped off, and when they gather to get picked back up.
Deadlock unhooked his arm from Hot Rod, turning behind them.
The change in air pressure made his finales tingle. Between the snow and the darkness, it was almost impossible to spot with the untrained optic. The snow had stopped falling. It was being blocked.
“Oooh shit.” Hot Rod checked the fuel levels on his flame throwers, glancing between those and the telltale green bio lights of the fuck off massive quintesson descending like the lethargic offspring of a meteor and a shark.
Deadlock brought out two of his heaviest duty guns. And then a third he handed handle first to Hot Rod. Ratchet had only warned him against encouraging Hot Rod’s stupid ideas.
Hot Rod was now looking rapidly between three points of interest.
“Wha-?”
Deadlock gave Hot Rod a gun.
“Do not tell Ratchet.”
Hot Rod held up the side arm. Focus zeroed in. Pretty nasty piece that looked more intimidating than it was. Slagged range but it packed enough of a punch to be worth keeping. Covered in spikes and blades and heavy enough to act as a crude but very nasty club, it was also one of the most over the top looking things Deadlock owned.
Hot Rod’s free hand started flapping faster and faster. His peds similarly bounced rapidly in place, until Deadlock was certain he was about to combust. Hot Rod was making A noise. One that was steadily rising in both pitch and volume. His field going supernova.
The quintesson broke through the clouds, maw open, carving up the earth before them with the bottom of its jaw. A cliffside of teeth was closing in at speed.
Hot Rod screamed.
And Deadlock followed suit.
Sprinting towards death, guns blazing and voices raised in preemptive victory, Deadlock and maybe also Drift, had a suspicion the he and Hot Rod were friends in every universe.
Much to the terror of everyone else.
———————————————————————
And that’s the soft finale to this tale!
Over the course of writing this, the story kept getting longer, but the two scenes it started with were “Hot Rod Meets Deadlock” and “Hot Rod Saves Deadlock” and then more ideas kept popping in between those two scenes.
There is more I plan on writing for these dipshits as well as Jazz and Prowl now but we’ll see what comes first.
I just wanted to say as well that @keferon you are a very talented writer and you’re the reason I was brave enough to share my own stuff. You fit so many little details into your work that just hits like a hammer down the line.
-SSTP
THE SWEET SWEET COMFORT YESSS THE SHENANIGANS!! ABSOLUTELY. Y E S. PL E A S E fklgjgidowjehrkrndhdof
Oh this is amazing. The dynamic you give them. The enERGY. It's like a candy for my soul I love it so so much ogkfhdgd I'm so happy you decided to share your writing! It's filled with joy and and I-dont-fucking-know purified enthusiasm?? I can't remember the right words rn but hopefully you get what I mean haha
#maccadam#transformers#tf mecha universe#mecha art#mecha writing#mecha dr art#mecha dr writing#deadlock#hot rod#roddy#:>
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'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part i]
After choosing to break the cycle, Jinx [now Powder] tries to find her place in the countryside away from everything she once knew, drawn to someone who seems to embody everything she's wanted but never deserved. playlist!!!
The cottage was quiet, almost too quiet. She had chosen this place for that very reason after all. It was far from everything she used to know. Far from people who might recognize her, far from her past, and most importantly, far from the chaos she had attracted her whole life.
And yet, the quiet unsettled her.
Her days were simple now. Fixing up the cottage, teaching herself how to cook, tending to the purple and orange flowers she had no idea how to take care of. Simple things.
She only went into town when absolutely necessary, and even then, she kept her head down and her interactions short. People didn’t pry, but she saw the curiosity in their eyes. They looked at her like she was out of place, as if she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
Except for you. You were different. Powder had noticed that right away.
The first time she saw you, she thought she was just seeing things.
You were at the edge of the farmer’s market, the sun shining down on you, your head tilted back, shoulders shaking as you laughed, your body so... unguarded. As if you weren't constantly looking over your shoulder waiting for something bad to happen. And for a moment, Powder forgot how to breathe. It wasn’t just the sound of your laughter or the warmth in your eyes when you spoke to someone who passed by. You had this way of moving like you belonged there, like you were part of the town in a way she couldn’t imagine ever being.
She’d only meant to grab a few supplies, slip in and out before anyone could try to talk to her. But then there you were, and she couldn’t look away.
She didn’t approach you. Told herself it was because she didn’t want to stand out, didn't want to risk anyone noticing her more than they already had. But deep down, she knew the truth. You made her feel small. The type of small you feel when you're around someone you look up to. A person who represents everything you want to be, someone you want to keep in your life forever. She couldn't just walk up to you so casually, not when you reminded her of everything she wasn't.
And yet she couldn't keep her distance. Because even though you left her feeling small, you also made her want to be something more. You made her hopeful. A feeling that had been so rare to come by nowadays. That maybe, just maybe one day she’d be as content as you were in this small warm town.
She wanted to know what it was like to feel so at ease, to be... satisfied. Not perfect, not terrible, but enough. And when she saw you, she saw how.
She started seeing you more often after that. Helping at the market, skipping down the dirt paths, stopping to pet the stray cats that wandered by, you took your time with everything you did, like there was no rush, like you had all the time in the world. It wasn’t long before she found herself looking for you whenever she came into town.
You were always smiling, always patient with everyone you spoke to. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what being at peace looked like.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. About the way you seemed to fit so perfectly. It made her heart ache, this longing for something she wasn’t even sure she could have.
Sometimes, she’d catch herself lingering for too long, staring as you handed out fresh flowers to some kids or waved goodbye to one of the older shopkeepers. She’d duck her head, hoping you hadn’t noticed, but part of her wished you would.
Late at night when her little cottage was quiet and cold, she’d let her mind wander. She’d imagine herself laughing like you did, walking through the town with that same easy confidence. She’d picture you waving to her. Not out of politeness, but because you knew her. Because she was someone worth knowing, someone you wanted around.
It was a stupid thought. She knew that much. Someone like you, so open and kind didn’t belong anywhere near someone like her. But the thought still lingered, no matter how much she tried to push it away.
But for now, she stayed at a distance, quietly admiring you from afar. Wondering if one day she’d have the courage to find her own place in this town, preferably next to you.
Today, you were at the bakery, carrying a piece of warm bread to the counter. Powder stood just outside the window, watching as you handed a loaf to the shop owner with that signature smile that never seemed forced. Your hair caught the sunset through the glass, and her heart did this stupid little flip that she hated and loved at the same time.
You were everything. Bright, grounded, kind in a way that felt genuine. It was the way people lit up around you, how even the grumpiest of the townsfolk seemed to soften in your presence. Powder found herself wanting to be one of them.
But not today. Today was coming to an end. So as she watched you place your bread in your basket, she took one last glance at your face before turning on her heel, heading home.
At night, when the world was still, she tried to ignore how much of her thoughts were filled with you. She told herself it didn’t matter, that this small admiration was harmless.
But as the days passed, it grew harder to ignore. Harder to convince herself that watching from afar was enough.
. . .
You were standing near the fountain in the town square, chatting with a small group of neighbors. The market stalls around you were loud, filled with laughter and conversation. Powder stood by one of the lamp posts, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her worn jacket, and her eyes glued to you.
You were smiling, of course, your face lit up with that same warmth that made her heart skip a beat. It was such a simple scene, one she had seen countless of times before. And yet, today, it felt different.
Her eyes darted to the little group you were standing with, chatting like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you tilted your head, listening to some old guy ramble about whatever. So patient, so... nice. Powder’s chest clenched, hard.
She shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t her place. It was yours, with your calm smiles and easy conversations. Meanwhile, her hands were shaking just thinking about standing that close. People like her didn’t fit in with people like you. She was jagged edges and scrambled thoughts, and you were everything smooth and steady.
But still, her feet wouldn’t move. Not backward, not forward. Just... stuck, staring at the way you chuckled when one of the neighbors cracked some lame joke. She hated how much she wanted to be part of it, part of you.
The thought made her stomach flip in the worst way. She didn’t deserve that kind of peace, not after everything she’d done. Not after all the ways she’d ruined things.
But then you laughed again, and it hit her like a punch to the face. That sound, that easy, genuine laughter, it made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she could want something good for herself. Even if she didn’t deserve it. She wanted it more than anything.
She let out a shaky breath, every part of her screaming to go home and hide. She almost did. But then she looked up, and there you were, smiling, like the world wasn’t a mess. Like things could be easy if you let them.
Her feet began to move before she could stop them.
The crowd didn’t even notice her no whispers, no stares, just the usual hum of the town square. She kept walking, her heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.
And suddenly, she was right there. Close enough to smell your perfume, closer than she had ever been.
You turned your head towards her, mid-laugh.
She should’ve ran. She should’ve stayed away, kept pretending this wasn’t something she wanted.
But she didn’t.
Her voice was quiet, shaky, but it was hers.
“Hey.”
You blinked, surprised but not unkind, and Powder swore she saw your smile widen ever so slightly.
It wasn’t much. But it was the first step.
. . .
[part ii]
I LOVE SELF-DEPRICATING JINX!!!!! i literally cannot stop writing her like this goly... anyways i loved this idea sm (and am so proud of myself for it like wow im just so smart and amazing) SO I RLLY WANNA WRITE A PART 2 FROM READERS POV WHERE THEY TALK MORE ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- (update they did not in fact talk more)
also lowkey obsessed with the idea of obsessive stalker jinx but like this is supposed to be fluff so maybe ill write something like that another time...
thanks 4 reading as always!!! XOXOXOXOXO
#purple... *sob sob* and orange... *sob sob* flowers... *sob sob sob*#fav part abt posting will 4eva be making the banners#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#arcane season 2#arcane x reader#jinx#arcane#x reader
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I’m curious, how much control do you think Viktor was in in season 2?
I have tried to analyze this but am honestly stumped. Because on one hand it is clearly his intentions and logic being used. Since the beginning he has been wanting to heal people afflicted in Zaun (while it was also to cure his illness I don’t doubt wanting to help those in need was a legitimate motivation). He does immediately go to heal people in Zaun and all the conclusions he jumps to through the season do seem perfectly reasonable for him. He was the type of person who didn’t even conceptualize in season one that something like the hexclaw could be used as a weapon. That and the hexcore showing that he was a pacifist to the point of it being a massive blind spot to danger. So it makes sense being shot by Jayce of all people while in his eyes he was healing people would cause him to go all glorious evolution mode as a natural progression of his arc.
On the other hand he definitely didn’t come back right. The show makes a point to show in season one that the hexcore has some level of physical control over him, and even when going to heal the shimmer addicts he is following Sky’s voice. The writers also confirmed that it indeed was not Sky and was the hexcore manifesting his guilt to push him towards to glorious evolution. And his emotions definitely seem to be muffled and unexpressive. I know this part is joked about a lot but honestly even the fact that he chokes Jayce is surprising because he is consistently characterized as a pacifist to the point of it being a fatal flaw. He doesn’t even commit an act of violence in a show filled with fight scenes until the second to last episode, let alone against Jayce of all people. I think the last thing season one Viktor would do is intentionally cause physical harm to someone, hence why it is only at the part where he is the farthest gone.
Basically if I had to guess I’d say it’s like 50/50 level of control, but you have written some great character analysis so I’m curious what your thoughts are as to how much of season two was Viktor and how much was the Hexcore
Honestly, Anon, I'm wrestling with this on almost a daily basis myself when I write fics. It's definitely not helped by the fact they avoided a lot of exposition in S2 in favor of pacing (the slower pace of S1 allowed for a lot more signposting and exposition of what was going on, I think somewhat to the detriment of S2) and the fact that we don't really get much of Viktor after he stops being the Machine Herald, because to my eyes that's the first time we see the real Viktor all season and it would be nice to get him to express some contrast with what came before (though of course it would ruin the pacing of a perfect moment).
I think you basically nailed all of the points of confusion. I've ever considered tracking all the points where his voice warps for clues, because I think there is something to be gleaned from how and when his voice distorts, but in what direction is also a curious question.
Was saying "affection" kept them together more or less than what Viktor would have said to Jayce? Would he on his own have said love? Or would he, in his infinite shyness, have not dared to mention emotion at all, because Viktor is an expert at pushing those closest to him away and hiding his own emotions? Was that the Hexcore trying to drag Jayce in closer by calling it affection, or push him away before it could gain strength by lowering Viktor saying "love" down to just saying "affection"?
On the other hand, during the Herald's villain monologue at the end in the Astral Plane, his voice is distorted for almost every line except, "This senseless waste," which does feel like a sincere Viktor line, perhaps the only one that is truly him that whole time, including when he said he was pleased to see Jayce, in that horrible mocking tone. Could that not be the Hexcore speaking there?
I'll offer what I think is happening:
In order to chart "What is Hexcore" vs. "What is Viktor" it's less useful to look at Viktor's motives than the Hexcore's.
The Hexore wanted to expand its influence. It wanted to become powerful enough to have its own army and to destroy the civilization around it as other versions of the Hexcore have done throughout history. I believe it reached those goals by posing them as things Viktor, on his own, would want to do like help the needy, thus hiding its ends inside of Viktor's motives.
Note too that people who have dosed up on Shimmer are more susceptible to its molding.
Hence we can assume that the Hexcore, in the guise of Sky, using Viktor's guilt about her and his own failures to help the undercity, guided Viktor down to the Shimmer victim encampment specifically.
Viktor is not a mystic. The most mystical thing he says in S1 is that the Arcane speaks through mages. But the Hexcore is a magical artifact. Something like the Hexcore also destroyed a civilization centuries ago, and the figure in Heimerdinger's memory looks like Viktor when he's cloaked.
So personally, I think we can ascribe any mysticism to the Hexcore's influence too. That means the Cult, for example. Also Viktor's, "You need not suffer anymore," and kind of making them all genuflect to him, feels very OOC and just plain wrong for Viktor.
Whereas Viktor in the Astral Plane feels like real Viktor. Even the fact that when we show his point of view out into the world he is himself in a field of stars, seeing the real world projected in front of him like Plato's Allegory of the Cave gives the impression of imprisonment, like he's looking out through the windows of his own eyes to a shrouded world he can no longer directly touch.
And note, for example, that Sky/the Hexcore doesn't want Viktor to heal Vander. That's all Viktor. I believe the reason is because it doesn't want to run out of energy too quickly.
Basically, I think the Hexcore is stringing Viktor along there as Sky, giving him a little terrarium of stars to play in, while using him as a vessel of assimilation under the guise of healing. These are on both sides, inner and outer, things that Viktor wants to do, so he's seduced. He doesn't fight it.
I also think at a certain point, the Hexcore Viktor gains enough power to be able to impact people who aren't dosed with Shimmer. I think this comes later though, which is why it's not interested in Jayce at first but it is interested in assimilating him later. At that point, again, those motives align with Viktor's own sincere desire to see Jayce again (maybe he's sick of all the hippies in the commune lol) and the Hexcore is happy to get rid of someone who could conceivably stop it.
But note, the Hexcore is still playing along with Viktor. It could forcibly assimilate Jayce, but Viktor wants Jayce to choose his side willingly, so it holds back. In part too because that disappointment is what fuels Viktor to give himself over the Hexcore's goals entirely and ask for Singed's treatment with Apex Shimmer. At that point, as the showrunner noted, it doesn't need the guise of Sky anymore, it doesn't need to string Viktor along anymore. He's bought into the idea of forcibly assimilating the world if he can't get Jayce to join willingly.
I also heard an interesting theory that I'd like to factor in: basically, until he gains access to the Anomaly, Viktor doesn't have the power to strip himself of the Hexcore's influence or overcome it. That's why there's no point in Jayce trying to get through to him sooner, it wouldn't do anything because Viktor would still be trapped in its web.
Once they have the Anomaly, Viktor as an ascended being can strip away the Hexcore's influence. And that's why I lamented that we don't get more of his thoughts in that scene. Because I think an interpretation can be made that the Machine Herald look is just the human form of the Hexcore, using Viktor as a vessel.
Once that outer shell explodes, it really is Viktor again, with all the power of the Anomaly and Jayce's rune at his disposal. Now he and Jayce can work together to reverse the damage, free all the trapped souls from the Hexcore's web, and save the day. But we see that only then Viktor is able to view his own actions as himself, and he's horrified. There I think we get Viktor's one true, sincere reaction to everything that has happened up to that point and confirm that, yes, while the Hexcore interwove its seduction through Viktor's motives, none of this is what Viktor wanted. The ultimate outcome was the Hexcore's goals.
Quick Doylist addition: I also think there's definitely a draft where it's all Viktor getting controlled, but the writers know that can be kind of boring. It's better when characters take action and make choices, rather than being controlled. So I think that's why they settled on a combination of "The Hexcore's end goals, but Viktor's underlying motivations being twisted to support them."
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Famous Last Words
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
Summary: She'll never let him believe he isn't loved, even when he doesn't deserve it.
TW: None.
“Be careful. I love you”
She hears the snort of derision he lets out and resists the urge to roll her eyes at him lest she makes things worse. He’s like a cornered animal when he’s upset, all consuming anger to cover the vulnerability he doesn’t want to acknowledge exists. She’s worried the wrong move will make him tell her to ‘fuck off an’ then fuck off som’ more’ like he had the night before.
“Though’ ya were mad at me” He grunts, scuffing the toe of his boot in the pebble-dashed dirt, other leg poised to keep moving further away from her and closer to the run he’s supposed to be going on.
“I am mad at you, you’re mad at me too” She raises an eyebrow before scanning her eyes down, taking note of the way he’s picking at the skin of his thumb; a nervous habit he’s had the whole time she’s known him. He’s nervous, as if one fight will make her leave him, as if she’s going to suddenly realise he isn’t worth the effort. She huffs a small, understanding smile at him “I still love you, and I’m never going to risk that not being the last thing you hear me say”
He pauses at the gate, tilts his head to the side and looks at her properly, sees the way she’s looking at him wide eyed and concerned, the way her shoulders are tense. Whenever they fight he convinces himself he’s being left, talks himself into thinking she doesn’t care and here she is, mad at him, fighting with him and still refusing to let him believe she doesn’t whilst being scared he won’t come back for different reasons.
He strides forward suddenly, twisting his body to close the gap between them and slings an arm around her shoulder, bringing her in to press his lips to the top of her head. He lingers, lips against the hair he loves so much.
“I love ya”
“Be careful. I love you” She repeats, knowing the words have sunk in when he raises one side of a lip fleetingly before opening the clanking metal chain.
-
It was a stupid fight, in hindsight, the kind they probably wouldn’t have if anyone had eaten a full meal for dinner rather than whatever percentage of rabbit there was split between twelve people. Or maybe they would, because they could have twelve rabbits and Daryl would still give his up for someone else, and it would infuriate her just the same that he sacrifices his own wellbeing for them at every opportunity. She suspects it’s only half about taking care of others, and maybe a solid thirty percent just not thinking he deserves care; the other twenty percent she is entirely unwilling to examine.
It was a fight though, one that ought to have been kinder than it was. One that she wishes she could have kept her cool in, but she’ll be fucked if Daryl is the only one who gets to be angry. She stews on it, sitting perched on the solid prison cot, playing it over and over in her mind until she hears heavy footsteps outside the makeshift door. She’d recognise them anywhere, his distinctive gait and well-worn shoes that always scrape on the second step when he’s not trying to sneak. The consideration, even in his unconscious actions, is part of the reason she loves him as fiercely as she does.
She doesn’t get up, doesn’t allow herself to follow the overwhelming urge to rush towards him when he opens the bars and lifts aside the curtain. He bites the inside of his lip.
“’M sorry”
“Me too”
She moves then, coming to a stop in front of him to run her hands over the solid muscles under his shirt, checking him for cuts and scrapes, feels him exhale underneath her palms. He’s always taken by the act, no matter how long they’ve been together or how often he goes out. He remains captured by the tenderness and care she bestows upon him. He is, still, so unused to the kindness, so out of depth when the only gentleness he’s known has been a cover for malice, false sense of security so quickly followed by pain.
“Ain’t sure what I did t’ deserve ya love” He mumbles into the same spot on the crown of her head. The spot he kisses when he fucks her, the place his chin rests when he hugs her after a long day, the spot he’d patted condescendingly when he was too embarrassed to admit he liked her but needed an excuse to make contact.
Finally, after almost twenty four hours of not making contact, at least twenty three too long, she kisses him, presses her lips firmly to his, relishing the way he instantly responds. When she pulls away it’s with a smile, an always fucking present smile he’ll never get enough of, the smile that’s his.
“You don’t have to deserve it, you don’t have to earn it, its just there”
He eats more that night, sitting by the fire running a thumb soothingly on her knee as he takes a well earned swig from a bottle of water. He wants her to see it, wants her to know he's trying; and if he has to trick himself into it by thinking it's for her, caring for himself because she needs him to, then it'll have to do for now.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead: daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead: daryl dixon spoilers#smut#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixion imagine#twd daryl#writing prompt#daryl requests#twd#writing community#daryl x oc#daryl dixon x oc
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List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)
“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.”
“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.”
“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”
“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”
“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”
“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.”
“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.”
“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.”
“Don’t give me that look.”
“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.”
“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.”
“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”
“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?”
“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”
“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”
“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.”
“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.”
“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.”
“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!”
“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”
“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”
“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.”
“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”
“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”
“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.”
“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.”
“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”
“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.”
“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”
“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”
“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”
“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”
“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.”
“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.”
“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”
“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.”
“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”
“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”
“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”
“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”
“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.”
“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”
“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”
“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”
“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”
“I would not be who I am today if not for you.”
(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)
#long post#dialogue prompts#otp prompts#angst prompts#smut prompts#prompts#romantic prompts#fluff prompts#writing prompts#suggestive prompts
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IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:
Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.
“Travis was sexist.”
Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)
(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)
2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”
Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.
3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”
As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.
4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”
Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.
5. “Travis is a straight man.”
Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)
Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.
So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn’t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.
As for Travis being a man… Is he though???
In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.
Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.
6. Travis is a victim.
I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie, Nat, Tai, and Van) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!
#yellowjackets#travis martinez#travis yellowjackets#travnat#natalie scatorccio#natalie x travis#jackie taylor#shauna shipman#misty quigley#yellowjackets s2#yellowjackets season 2#natalie yellowjackets#javi martinez#javi yellowjackets#doomcoming#transfem travis martinez#bi4bi travnat#yj
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"Make you happy." Daryl Dixon Imagine.
Daryl reminisces about the day you two got married, when you found out you were pregnant, and when Marley was born.
A/N: If you want to read another story about dad!daryl you can check out: "My everything" "A whole new world" "For life". Hope you like this. Sorry if it's a little bit long :c But thank you!
For the first time in his life, Daryl could feel his hands shaking, but he had never felt so alive.
Daryl Dixon had always considered himself a lonely person.
It was like that since he was a child and had to survive the adversities of life, instead of living his childhood and adolescence like any other kid. Daryl had fought his way through life, literally, getting into so many fights that it was normal for his mother to see him come home with bruises while he was growing up, although nothing compared to the beatings his father used to give him while his mother watched as a silent spectator, doing nothing to protect her own child, until finally one day, the supposed paternal figures left his life for good.
He was alone, yes, but Daryl could feel he could finally rest, taking a moment to breathe without his body aching from the remnants his father's fists left on his body.
By the time Daryl grew up, he had convinced himself that he would be better off alone, that his past was too dark to ever truly be seen by anyone, or any woman in particular. For that same reason, he believed, in an almost sacred way, that the very idea of getting married or having children one day was a crazy one, if not fatal given his temperament, which was like a volcano, too dangerous to play near.
But the moment he met you, he never felt alone again: he knew you were the peace, the silent, the color the world lost even before the apocalypse. And in that instant, when your hand held his, his body recognized your warm, and his trembling heart finally calmed down.
Father Gabriel kept talking, making the wedding official, and Daryl took the opportunity to look to his right side. There you were, as beautiful as always: your hair was loose, and the left side was behind your ear. You were wearing a white dress and it was a simple one, with long sleeves and a skirt that fell a little below your thighs, but it was as overwhelming as the memory of you and the life before the end of the world.
Now, he was completely happy, as never before.
When father Gabriel asked to say your vows, you two turned towards each other, sharing an amused expression.
“Do we have to?” You said, with a worried but playful tone that made Daryl smile.
“Yes.” Maggie answered next to you, giving you a serious look as she gave you the ring.
“Better say somethin’ that makes me cry, peach.” Daryl chuckled, but he was so nervous that his hand continued to hold on to yours.
“And I wanted to start saying you are hot as hell... but that feels wrong in God’s house.” You chuckled, making the few presents laugh: your future husband, the family you made in the apocalypse, and even Gabriel. But in the next second, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your anxious heart. “There is so much in yourself I would like you to be able to see, Daryl. Like the way you protect our people, even if that puts you in danger. You don’t talk much, but your silence says it all, and it's comforting. When I met you, I realized that I had always lived in a house, but it never felt like a home until you and I started our own. And yes, you do have some anger issues, but I find that strangely attractive…” You teased him, earning you a snort from him. “But I wouldn’t change this for anything, ever. And I promise you couldn’t make me any happier than I am now. I’m happy just because you’re with me, because while you’re here, I don’t need anything else.”
You slipped the ring on his finger, smiling so cutely that Daryl had to stop himself from pulling you towards him. But when Father Gabriel asked him to answer and while Rick gave him the ring, Daryl couldn't help but feel so shy.
“Fuck… shit, sorry, father…” Daryl looked at Gabriel, who smiled to say silently that it was okay. And when he looked back at you, a new wave of feelings washed over him when he realized he was your husband. “Peach, ya know I ain’t good with words, so I guess I'll just tell ya what I thought when I met ya...” He looked at you so deeply, that for a second, you felt like you could swim in the depths of his blue eyes. “In ma world full of chaos, ya are the silence, peach: ya were, and ya always will be.”
Then, Daryl put the ring in your finger, pulling you towards him before father Gabriel could say he could kiss the bride. You smiled softly against his lips, one hand caressing his cheek as he kept you in his arms, the place where he knew you belonged.
There was a time when Daryl thought his heart couldn’t keep beating, but it was you who made it beat again. There was a time when he thought he was giving his last breath, but you made him breathe again. Over a year and a half and even living in that new world, what a wonderful life you two lived. Alexandria gave you a house, but you two turned it into a real home. Daryl never knew how to be the man who gave flowers or chocolates: but it was sweet how he always came back from the runs with a book, some old cassettes, even a few movies he found in a store.
However, when Daryl brought in a pink stuffed octopus, claiming it was too cute to leave behind, perhaps that should have given you a clue as to what would happen shortly after.
You two never really talked about the idea of having children, not in that world or the previous one actually, but one evening when the wind began to bring the first whispers of spring, you found yourself at a crossroad.
PREGNANT.
For you, the world was suddenly spinning out of control and it felt unstable, as if it was going to split open and swallow you alive. And it was then that the lust of weeks ago turned into guilt inside you, hitting you with a hard force right in the place where a life was beginning to grow.
Your body was the home of a future person, to an embryo that was the result of some nights of alcohol and fun sex, because even when you two had always been careful, let's be honest: sometimes alcohol was a good conduit for fun and unexpected results. But as you held that pregnancy test in your shaking hands, hundreds, thousands of ideas came to your mind, a projection of the future that awaited a baby in that apocalyptic world.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, hands clasped in prayer for mercy, and guidance, or divine intervention, you thought it was funny how one screaming mind could silence the entire world around you. It took two people to make a baby, but, would the roots of Daryl's love be deep enough to handle the change in the future? And most of all, would it be the right thing to do to bring a baby into the world under those circumstances?
“Peach, ya okay?”
His deep voice pulled you out of your trance, but the surprise made you drop the test as you turned around.
“Fuck…” You whispered as you rushed to pick it up, but Daryl was closer than you thought, and yours and his hand brushed together as he was the one who picked the pregnancy test up.
He looked at it for a seconds that seemed longer than that first night when the end of the world began.
“I dun–” Daryl raised his head, his long hair covering part of his eyes, his brow furrowed in a thoughtful expression. “Dun know what this means. Never seen one in real life.”
Your mouth was dry, and the words you still didn’t say aloud were like fire on gunpowder about to explode, or at least that was how dangerous the situation felt, but, armed with nothing but the truth, you ventured to say it.
“It means positive.” You answered softly, your heart beating faster.
Daryl’s mind ran as fast as possible, registering your words, processing who he was and who he will be: a future father?
“Are we…” Daryl finally said, but he had to clear his throat first. “Happy ‘bout it?”
He looked confused, not angry.
“I don’t know. Are we?”
Then, he did the last thing you thought he would do: Daryl started smiling, just a little bit.
“Yeah, I mean, I'm fuckin’ scared, but…” He paused, looking at you with a worried expression, and his voice became even lower. “But if ya don’t want to have her I would get that, ‘cause for yer face ya ain’t lookin’ so sure ‘bout it.”
In that moment your face relaxed, too immersed in fear to notice that you were holding an unpromising expression.
“No, sorry, it’s not that. It’s just that…” You chuckled, a nervous little laugh. “I’m fucking scared, too.”
His smile faltered, but it was still encouraging in those moments of turbulent thoughts for you. Then, he extended his hand towards you.
“Come, let’s sit on the bed.”
You took his hand, and it was so warm that it seemed it could reach every part of your heart, filling it a little bit with hope while fighting fear. Daryl took you towards the bed on the middle of the bedroom, to help you sit down on the edge, one of your legs under you, with him still close to you. He let go of your hand for a moment, only to hold the evidence that seemed to be weighed down with the possibility of having a baby, for real.
“Can you please say something?” You said. “Because I don’t know what to say.”
Daryl chuckled, looking back at you, and somehow, he was looking at you the way he always did. Like the first time you two met, the time you got together, when he proposed to you, always with so much love despite his constant fear of not being enough for you.
“Ya know all ‘bout ma childhood, peach, ‘bout ma mom, dad, ma asshole brother. Didn’t have love, like, not a little shit about it, until ya came along. Everythin’ was better since I met ya n’ hell, I pictured us havin’ a kid a few times. A little girl or a little boy walkin’ around the home, getting’ all excited to see me like I was a real father, nothin’ like the asshole one I had.”
You chuckled, even if you knew well how bad and sad his story was.
“Are you gonna teach it to swear too?”
“Fuck no.” He answered instantly, and when he cursed under his breath again for his mistake, it made you laugh a little more. “Listen, peach, I know exactly where we are right now. This life is jus’ fucked up, but… only if ya wanna do this ‘cause I ain’t pressurin’ ya to do somethin’ ya don’t want to, ya got to know I wanna do this with ya.”
Daryl said it so sweetly that you felt like your heart was about to burst. You knew he was also very scared, but when you looked at him, you could see clearly how serious he was too.
“You said she.”
He blinked, confused.
“What?”
“You said: if you don’t want to have her.”
“Oh, that?” He chuckled, kind of relieved. “Every time I pictured us with a kid, always thought ‘bout havin’ a girl first. I had a big brother n’ that bastard was the worst brother ever.”
You laughed softly.
“I met him so I can say that was kind of true. But I know he loved you, in his own special way…”
“Yeah, guess he did after all.” Daryl said, in a soft but deep voice, and his hand caught yours. “Ya have to tell me if this is what ya want, peach…” His words trembled, he could feel it in his fear. “But If ya want to get an abortion we can talk to Denisse. S’yer body and s’yer decision.”
You looked to the open window for a moment, and for Daryl, the wait was almost defeating, and so suffocating. For him, escaping was not an option, but he wanted to give you the freedom to choose, to think about what was best for you too, but when you looked back at him, Daryl could see a sparkle of hope between the shadows of fear.
“Can you at least promise me that you won't be leaving on supply runs so often from now on? Because if this child gets your personality, he or she won't be easy to take care of, you know?”
And there it was, the way you teased him, but at the same time, telling him that you and him were going to be parents. Then, Daryl smiled, thinking that he never imagined that he could be even happier than he already was.
He hugged you tightly, trying to banish all fear in your body, even when he had some fears too. And it was kind of overwhelming the way he talked, as if suddenly the baby was his whole world and his reason for living, but because that was a beautiful thought, you hugged him back.
From there, his life was even better. The promise of being a father scared him to death, but it was so liberating too that he silently counted the days and weeks until he could meet his baby. Daryl knew he could never be like his own father; he knew he could give his child all the love he never got. Over the next few months, he kept his promise and stopped going on all the supply runs: but when he did, Daryl always came back with some toy or a piece of clothes, even with a book about parenting that he started reading in an almost sacred way. He wanted to be as ready as possible, to learn how to hold a baby, how to change a diaper and more.
The night of his last run and when Daryl reached the gates on his bike, Maggie was there to meet him.
As he got off the bike, he just knew.
“But we still had a few weeks ahead.” Daryl said, even when he knew anything was possible.
However, the moment he walked into the bedroom, nothing could prepare him for that. The doctor and Carol were there, next to you as you were lying sideways on the bed, almost in a fetal position, eyes tightly closed, holding yourself against the sheet, too immersed in the pain to notice he was there.
“Peach, hey, I’m here…” Daryl knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. There, you opened your eyes, but you looked so scared like never before. “I’m here, okay? I’m here with ya.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this…” You said breathlessly, your eyebrows furrowed in an expression of pain as a new contraction pressed against your belly.
But you and him knew well you couldn’t turn back now.
“Ya can do this, sweetheart, jus’ hold on a little more, okay? We’re ‘bout to meet our baby.” Daryl kissed your hand before getting up again, helping you to sit when the doctor said it was time to push.
He climbed onto the bed, sitting behind you to hold your body against his, to let you know that he was there with you. And the entire time it took you to give birth, he did nothing but encourage you, assuring you that you were doing an incredible job, that you were strong, that you just had to hold on a little longer because soon you were going to hold your baby.
But when Daryl heard the baby crying for the first time, that was the most beautiful sound he ever heard.
Neither of you knew if the baby was going to be a girl or a boy, but when Carol said it was girl, making Daryl's wish come true, it felt like the world got back its color. Like breathing for the first time, like waking up from the sweetest dream, everything just made sense.
The doctor wrapped her in a blanket, laying her on your chest. But the moment she felt your touch, the baby looked into your eyes and it was as if she could see deep into your soul, to see all the love you had for her, giving you a new feeling of peace.
And in that moment, she stopped crying.
“She has your eyes.” You said softly, exhausted and in pain, but happy in a new way.
Daryl was smiling since he heard her, but seeing her there, so little and healthy and even more beautiful than in the dreams he had about her, it was like taking the first step into a whole new world, but one that promised nothing but happiness. His hand caressed her cheek, feeling a tickle on the tips of his fingers at the contact of his daughter's soft skin.
His daughter, his princess, his little angel.
“She’s so little.” Daryl said softly, afraid that if he talked louder she would be scared.
“Ya can hold her. Do you want to?” You asked in a small voice, thinking that he would be the one who would end up scared.
Daryl pulled away from you slightly to sit on the edge of the bed, taking the little life he helped create into his arms. For a single second, he feared that he might hurt her, a small thought in his frightened head, but when she locked her eyes with her daddy, Daryl knew well he would always make sure to make his daughter happy.
“Did you choose a name?” Carol asked.
Daryl chuckled, looking at you.
“Remember when Merle joked ‘bout namin’ our child after him?”
“Yeah. You told him to fuck off.” You chuckled, too. But you could see clearly the idea in his eyes, asking you the permission first. “Marley is a good name; don’t you think? Marley Rose Dixon. I think it sounds sweet, and your last name will make her look intimidating too after the people meet her daddy.”
"That's what we need. Another Dixon." Carol chuckled.
But the idea was more than a delight for him. And right there, Daryl promised Marley he would always make her smile, he would always make her happy, showing her nothing but love.
And he kept his word.
Now, they are lying on the bed, his head on the pillow and with her in his arms as he caresses her back, one arm under her head. As the night falls in Alexandria and Daryl finishes telling his daughter that story (omitting some thoughts, words and curses) Marley is still awake.
“Are ya sleepy now, angel?” Daryl asks softly, looking into her eyes, but when she shakes her head, giggling, he sighs. “How ‘bout ya lay back and daddy rubs yer back? Ya loved that when ya were a baby.”
“Really, daddy?”
“Yeah, ya spent most of yer day on daddy’s chest.” Daryl nudges his nose against his daughter's, earning another laugh. “It was much better than sleepin’ with mommy.”
“Hey…” You complain, entering the room. Marley chuckles, sticking her body even closer to her daddy. “I don’t like you, any of you.”
Daryl chuckles.
“Told ya she was a Dixon.”
You sigh dramatically, joking, laying on your side of the bed.
“Nine months in my belly but she loves daddy more.”
Marley giggles, but before you can say anything, she pulls away from her daddy, turning until she is next to you.
“I love ya too, mommy.”
“I know, baby...” You hold her in your arms, kissing her head as you hear her accent. “Mommy loves you too, my love.”
She looks at you, her blue eyes as deep as her father.
“And daddy too?”
“Well…” You tease him, earning a snort from your husband. “Yeah. I love daddy too.”
“But s’time to sleep, angel.” Daryl says softly when he knows the late night has begun, one hand rubbing her back. “Close yer eyes, okay?”
“Okay, daddy…” Marley does it, snuggling into your chest. “I love ya both.”
@fluffy-dixon
#daryl dixon imagine#dad!daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon twd#daryl dixon
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AN: Def seems like the person to deny being sick, and act like a little bastard, and not take medicine, and just act whiney and clingy
Sick! Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader
Oneshot (headcanons below)
Warnings: idk, just a silly little post of our favorite trickster ☆☆☆
-Sick-
"Shadow Milk, you have to take the medicine or you're not going to get better!"
"I already told you- It's gross and I don't wanna!"
This back and forth had been going on for who knows how long.
You see, Shadow Milk had caught a cold, and you have been trying to get him to take medicine to recover. The only problem was, he was being a stubborn little brat.
"And I'm fine! It's just a cough. I'm not even sick-"
Oh, and there was that too. He kept insisting that he was fine when he clearly wasn't.
"You threw up an hour ago."
"That's unrelated."
You frowned.
"If you don't take it then I'm going to become sick. You would want that, right?"
He glared at you. "I don't like how you're using your own health against mine," he'd say.
"Fine, give it here," he reached his hand out for the bottle of medicine, to which you happily gave him.
Then he began to gulp it down by the bottle-full.
"MILKTHATSNOTHOWYOURESUPPOSEDTOTAKETHEMEDICINE-" You'd scream out in mild panic.
"Just be grateful I'm even taking it in the first place!" He'd hiss.
He finished the entire bottle.
"This stuff tastes gross. I don't know how you normal people do it," He'd stick out his tongue, and you would snatch the now empty bottle from his hands.
"That's because you're not supposed to drink all of it."
"Yada Yada, rules aren't really my thing, doll. Anyway, am I like.. not sick anymore?"
What a clueless, loveable, idiot.
"...No. You have to wait a while,"
He had a disgusted look on his face.
"Are you serious? I drank that whole bottle and it doesn't even cure me? That's such a scandal." He would cross his arms.
"Again, you weren't supposed to drink it all."
"Yeah yeah, my bad. Now hurry up and cuddle me. It's been much to long since I've last had you in my arms." He would reach his arms out for you, making grabbing hands and a pouting face.
"No way- I don't want to catch what you have."
He ignored your response and snatched you under the covers with him.
You were really stuck now. You both know that if Shadow Milk wants something, it's his. And in the current moment, he wanted your attention.
"If you do end up getting sick, then I'll be the one to take care of you."
It was going to be a long week.
Headcanons ☆
Runs around the house to avoid taking medicine
Denies being sick, even though he sneezes like every five seconds
Refuses to rest
Will get abnormaly warm, but will still complain about being cold
Will cuddle you in the night and you're legit overheating
He says sorry but doesn't do anything about it
Either takes all of the blankets from you, or puts ALL of the blankets on both of you
Either way, he uses all of the blankets
Ten times clingy, but he insists its for 'no reason in particular.'
Gets so whiney and needy
If he doesn't have your attention 24/7 he screams
Will 100% use his sick status to avoid responsibilities
Still a flirty bastard
If he ever seems to get randomly better, he'll say it's because of your love
One time has attempted to start an... interesting doctor and patient role play
You shut down the idea quickly and he wouldn't stop nagging you about it for the rest of the day
#cookie run kingdom#Cookie Run#crk#Cookie run x reader#crk x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#crk oneshot#cookie run oneshot#cookie run kingdom oneshot#shadow milk cookie#shadow milk#shadow milk cookie x reader#shadow milk x reader#shadow milk cookie oneshot#shadow milk oneshot#shadow milk cookie crk#shadow milk crk#shadow milk cookie cookie run kingdom#crk fluff#shadow milk cookie fluff
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She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)
You meet Oscar's family back home
Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
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Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.
"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.
Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.
You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.
"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.
"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.
"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.
"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.
The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.
His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.
Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.
"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.
You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.
"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.
"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.
"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.
"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.
"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.
"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.
By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.
"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.
"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.
Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.
The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".
You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.
"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.
"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".
"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.
"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.
"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.
"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.
"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.
"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.
"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.
"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.
"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.
"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.
"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.
"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.
"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.
"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".
"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.
"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.
"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.
"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.
"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.
"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.
"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.
"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.
"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.
"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.
"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.
"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.
"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.
"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.
"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".
"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.
"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".
"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.
"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.
His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.
"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".
You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff
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Mistakes
Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)
Wordcount: 6.4k
Rating: E
Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood
A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao
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It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.
People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on.
Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely.
The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy.
But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name.
If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy.
It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life.
Tommy, Joel and you grew up together.
When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water.
The little shit.
Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief.
And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you.
It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point.
You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl.
God, you had been so heartbroken back then.
He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot.
It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again.
Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend.
You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father.
He had been scared but so happy.
And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own.
Sarah was his whole world.
Until the world ended.
The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again.
Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.
Until he left without a word.
Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces.
“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off.
He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller.
Joel had found him.
His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief.
For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?
You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving.
You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again.
“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind.
You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry.
Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously.
The nerve he had.
Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father.
You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it.
You could only imagine what he had told her.
He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make.
You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode.
Of course life had other plans.
You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel.
“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.
“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.
“So then you understand my concern.”
“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him.
“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes.
“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?”
You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair.
“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you.
“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow.
“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down.
“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath.
“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said.
You scoffed.
“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”
“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.
“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you.
“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed.
“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”
“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots.
“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled.
“I know the feelin’,” he sighed.
You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes.
You felt his lips on your temple.
„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head.
„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled.
„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.
You both sat there in silence for a moment.
„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him.
„What do you mean?“
He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes.
„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly.
You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.
„What kinda dreams?“
„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking.
„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks.
„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.
„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position.
„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder.
„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head.
„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled.
He said your name, pleading but you shook your head.
„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away.
You took a deep breath.
„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him.
„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down.
You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you.
You just walked faster, not bothering to stop.
„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much.
„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him.
„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house.
You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open.
You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road.
She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by.
You were broken, you had been for a long time.
The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel.
He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you.
He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left.
He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.
He was always there.
And along the way you fell in love with him.
You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you.
It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips.
„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you.
When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.
„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down.
„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head.
„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“
„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath.
Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours.
„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded.
„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.
He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back.
„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.
„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you.
Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants.
He stopped you before you could get any further.
„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead.
„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours.
Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs.
His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching.
„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.
He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.
„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you.
No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply.
He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him.
He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach.
He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep.
While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him.
You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise.
You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag.
You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.
You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.
Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in.
The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside.
Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon.
„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty.
A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel.
Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in.
Empty.
Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake.
Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you.
Tears were springing into your eyes.
He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?
Not after he….
A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words.
„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered.
Tommy only nodded.
Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly.
„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“
You scoffed.
„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.
He said your name, almost pleading.
„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“
You wanted to tell him then.
To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were.
Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you.
And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet.
It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him.
„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said.
„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him.
„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff.
An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened.
„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked.
„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you.
As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.
„I know you love him,“ he startled you.
„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you.
„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson.
The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it.
You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them.
It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.
You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse.
You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you.
You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob.
It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.
And he was not awake.
„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit.
Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you.
„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“
You were closer to the university than you thought then.
You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.
Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound.
He didn’t even stir.
„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“
„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes.
„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could.
She mirrored you.
„Can I help?“ Ellie asked.
„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.
„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs.
You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in.
„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open.
It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.
But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here.
You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it.
It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips.
You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up.
It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop.
Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them.
A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.
„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek.
„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly.
„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.
„Ellie?“ He asked.
„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly.
„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head.
„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head.
„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted.
„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin.
The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes.
„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.
„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage.
The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door.
You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house.
You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body.
„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping.
They were looking for Joel.
For Joel and Ellie.
You had to get out of here.
You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.
Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.
The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived.
Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room.
„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“
„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded.
„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot.
You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected.
„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.
It was a four day ride back to Jackson.
Four days that felt like four weeks.
Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.
You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse.
On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder.
It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel.
More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it.
When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight.
But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out.
The next hours were a blur.
You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in, your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room.
Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating.
You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes.
Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you.
„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer.
„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you.
„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man.
„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin.
„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.
„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.
„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.
„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh.
„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room.
It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy.
Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.
„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers.
For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.
„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in.
„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded.
„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed.
„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered.
„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded.
„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again.
„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left.
„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you.
„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath.
„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained.
„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered.
„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked.
„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek.
He looked wrecked.
„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair.
You shrugged.
„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow.
„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again.
„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile.
„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you.
You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent.
„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep.
„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead.
Six weeks later
„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.
„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle.
„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder.
„Why do I have to learn it then?“
„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing.
„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake.
„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.
„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat.
„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her.
„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck.
„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck.
One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast.
„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck.
„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter.
„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass.
„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled.
„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom.
#my fic#Joel Miller x fem. reader#Joel Miller#Tommy Miller x fem. reader#Tommy Miller#Pedro Pascal#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Early flirting/relationship things
(I'm just thinking out loud)
SFW:
i feel like when you first start to flirt with him he is kind of oblivious
talking to you already makes him so nervous so I think if you were intentionally being flirty he would already be so nervous that he wouldn’t notice
when you two do officially start going out…
he tends to make very prolonged eye contact when talking to you
especially when you guys go on more ‘traditional’ restaurant style dates
like his eyes would NOT leave you
defo from the beginning he pays for EVERYTHING
even when he doesn’t fucking get anything
one time he invited you for coffee and pastries, you got there, and he didn’t order anything…
he said oh no I’m not hungry but like he wasn’t being rude, he wasn’t doing it for any other reason
but he still insisted on paying
(he really just wanted an excuse to see you and used food)
idk why but I feel like at the beginning he would be a little cautious about eating around you
i just feel like sometimes with social anxiety, eating in front of people can be more difficult
so i feel like he would eat a more ‘normal’ amount/portion instead of his normal much bigger amount
but his stomach would give him hell so usually after he took you out to lunch or something, on the drive home or wherever you were going next he’d ask if you wanted to stop somewhere for a ‘snack’
then he would eat a whole other meal
he kept doing this until you were ordering at a restaurant once and you just touched his arm and said ‘is that all you want? Get more if you’re hungry babe’
and he realized he wasn’t as slick as he thought
from then on he’s just your human garbage disposal
any time you have left overs you don’t want, already taken care of
considering he isn’t from the US (this only applies ig if y’all are living in the US)
i always see people from the states go on vacation in other places and they lose weight because the food is better quality/better for you/less banned ingredients lol anywhere outside of the U.S.
i think the reverse would happen for König
one thing about him, guy likes to eat
so I think when he first comes here he’s a little overwhelmed by all of the snack/food options and would gain a decent amount of weight
also regardless of where you guys live/where you are from/your heritage I think he would love learning about your cultural foods and your favorite foods, he would want to try everything
not food related…
before moving in together, the guy would get so giddy whenever you spent the night with him
especially when you would forget or leave stuff at his house
it would brighten his day when you aren’t there and he sees something of yours, like a body care product, a perfume (which he would defo steal/hide forever), or a piece of clothing
in the most wholesome way possible, he would love being in bed with you
just being cozy and feeling your body against his
he would also start sleeping better the more you guys slept together
i honestly don’t think he’s super picky about cuddle position, as long as you two are wrapped around each other in some way, he doesn’t give a fuck <3
NSFW: MDNI!!!
things that i think definitely happen before you guys’ first time together…
literally googles ‘how to eat pussy’
idk if I headcanon him as a virgin or not, considering I like to write about mid 20s him, more likely??
for sure he doesn’t have much relationship experience, like bullied, then 17 joined the military, not much opportunity there
but sex, maybe he’s had sex before, but either way would be really nervous about pleasing you
first time together he really wants you to lead the way but honestly
he gets super into it very quickly and just gets obsessed with how you feel
basically devours your face and neck with his mouth
when he is finally able to pull himself away he eats you out for so fucking long
at least 3 orgasms with is mouth/hands because he is nervous and making you cum makes him less nervous and because let's face it….dude has a third leg
he wants to make sure you are prepped enough that he won’t cause any discomfort
i think he would be very attentive to facial expressions and body language during sex, so when you looked a little nervous after seeing how big he was he rushed to comfort you but you just said-
‘don’t worry, I’ll make it fit’ which ngl besides the amount of concern he had for you made him even more flustered
i also think this man is just vocal in general, but ESPECIALLY at the beginning
partly bc he wanted you to know it felt good but also because it was just so overwhelmingly good
#könig smut#könig#könig x reader#könig cod#konig smut#konig x reader#call of duty smut#call of duty modern warfare#cod smut#cod mw2#konig mw2#konig cod#könig blurb#könig imagine#könig x you#konig blurb#konig imagine#konig headcanons
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