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norman-fucking-reedus · 28 days

Note

Hey 👋🏽!!,

I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮‍💨 WHEW LAWD😶‍🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like

"The New Girl"

Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭

GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens

The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story 🎀

Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…

This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this

@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️

THE NEW GIRL

“Are ya' impressed yet?”

Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.

Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.

You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.

Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.

Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.

You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.

Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.

Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.

There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.

Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.

You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.

The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.

Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.

You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.

This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.

It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.

Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.

You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.

It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.

Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.

You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.

You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.

A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.

You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.

When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.

As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.

The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.

"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.

The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"

"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.

"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."

You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.

The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.

On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.

Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"

"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"

You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.

The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.

The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.

"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.

"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"

You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.

She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"

"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"

"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"

She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"

"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"

You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"

"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.

You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”

You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.

You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.

Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.

To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.

As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.

Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.

You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.

Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.

The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.

“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.

She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.

“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.

“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.

“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.

Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.

“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.

Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.

“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.

A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.

Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.

“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.

He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.

You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.

Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.

The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.

“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.

“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.

You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.

“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.

He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.

You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.

“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”

You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”

One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.

A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.

"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.

When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.

“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.

You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.

Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.

You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.

Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.

"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.

The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.

As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.

"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.

Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.

Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”

“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”

You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.

Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”

“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.

“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.

“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”

She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.

Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”

Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”

“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.

You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.

“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.

“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.

“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“

“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.

“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.

The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.

“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.

Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.

“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”

He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”

You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.

Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.

“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.

You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.

Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.

"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.

You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.

The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.

"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.

You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.

"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"

"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.

There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.

Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.

You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.

The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.

You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.

On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.

"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"

Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"

"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.

You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"

"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.

Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.

Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.

Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.

She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.

You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.

As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.

"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"

"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.

Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.

He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.

He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.

"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.

You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.

Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"

"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.

"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.

It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.

Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.

The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.

“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.

Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”

“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.

“Maybe I wanna do both”

Jesus, this man was something else.

The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.

He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?

Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.

Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.

The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.

This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.

“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.

“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”

“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.

You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.

Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.

You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.

“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.

Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.

You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.

“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.

“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.

You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”

“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.

“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.

“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”

Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”

You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.

“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.

Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.

“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.

He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”

“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”

You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.

Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.

“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.

You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.

You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.

Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.

“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”

Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.

“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.

Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.

“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.

You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.

He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.

You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.

“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”

He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.

Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.

His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.

Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.

“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.

You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.

Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.

It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.

He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.

You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.

You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.

He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.

You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.

“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”

“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.

Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.

You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.

“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.

Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.

You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.

He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.

Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.

Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.

His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.

You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.

“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.

You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”

Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.

He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”

“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.

He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.

You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.

Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.

“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”

A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.

He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.

Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.

“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.

He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.

You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”

Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.

“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.

He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.

You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.

He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.

"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.

Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.

Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”

His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.

“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.

Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.

Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.

When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.

“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.

With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲

I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best

THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾‍♀️ y’know where to hmu babe

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

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irisintheafterglow · 8 months

Note

hello (i have read you're taking requests at the moment. it's okay if you can't do this but if you can i will be so so so grateful :( ) could you please write satoru x fem! reader who has kind of a stronger, more introverted personality (a bit of a tsundere/less feminine personality) so people normally deem them as intimidating, emotionless and hard to approach but satoru is falling so hard for them? like they've been close because he's been one to genuinely care and get to know them for who they are and that's why he's so protective and whipped. he's the only one who the reader lets baby them around and vice-versa, because they both know how hard it is to keep the "strongest" facade while being so soft and love starved inside. thank you if you do this really it means a lot!

even in my worst times, you see the best in me

wc: 1.8k

cw/tags: swearing, strangers to friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, slight angst but mostly fluff, satoru has his eyes set on you and no one else

note: hi!!!! i had so much fun writing this and i hope you like it; this is literally the cutest fucking concept ever and i love it so so so so much. thank you for the ask !!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“Put me down, Satoru. I don’t need you to carry me like a fucking damsel.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, his voice empty of its usual melodic teasing. He’s worried, you realize, as he sprints out of the collapsing building while the Curse tears apart the floor beneath him. Despite the imminent death chasing both of you, he holds his main concern in his arms, desperately trying to keep you talking.

“What the hell did you just say, asshole?” Making you angry always seemed to be the best way to make you wake up.

“I’m telling you to shut up. One, so I don’t have to listen to requests I’m not gonna obey, and two, you’re bleeding out at a speed that is less than ideal.”

“I’m fine, really. Just let me walk–” Your words are abruptly cut off by a hazy film covering your vision, your hearing temporarily lost as you fight back into consciousness. Chunks of concrete and plumbing pipes ricochet harmlessly off Satoru’s Infinity, his technique extending to cover your limp body as well. Warping in such a volatile environment left him no choice but to race for the veil and pray you stayed alive until then.

“Hey, hey, hey. Stay with me. You’re not allowed to die, idiot.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you argue before darkness wipes your eyelids.

He’d forced his dense skull through your resolve exactly three minutes after you’d sat down at your first Exchange Event. You were used to it, at this point, the way people avoided being in close proximity to you or limited interactions with you to a handful of words. Your cold, emotionless stare deterred even the warmest of people from talking to you, with your only real acquaintance being Mei Mei, who people tended to hate even more than you. Despite Utahime’s best efforts to get you to open up and be vulnerable, it wasn’t something that came naturally to you. That is, until you met Satoru.

“Hey,” he said from above you, peering at you over the rims of his sunglasses. His eyes were just as bright and unsettling as you’d heard them to be, but they shined with fondness that you weren’t familiar with receiving. “You new around here?”

“Are you not? We’re first-years, genius,” you deadpan, expecting him to recoil and skitter away like a beaten-up squirrel. However, to your surprise, his smile only widens and he crouches down to look you in the eye while you unconsciously sink further into your armchair. “The hell are you looking at, weirdo?”

“I’m lookin’ at you, weirdo,” he teases, sticking out his tongue defiantly. “What’s with the grumpy face?”

“I’m not grumpy; just creeped out. Why are you talking to me?”

“‘Cause you’re not talking to anyone else, duh. You look like you need a friend.” He shrugs and you’re too stubborn to admit that he’s right. “I’m Satoru,” he greets, sticking out his hand, presumably for you to shake. You eye him warily with all the caution of a bomb defuser.

“I don’t give a shit,” you state, unentertained by his attempt to strike up a conversation. Even when you cross your arms over your chest and give him your best scowl, nothing deters him. He’s insistent on breaking through to you, even if you’re determined not to let him. Before you have the chance to tell him to get lost, though, the teachers are already announcing the rules of the team challenge. The match closely resembled capture the flag, where both teams would hide an artifact and decide whether to prioritize finding the other team’s artifact or protecting their own.

As the excited students from both schools file out the door, he catches your eye one more time and you meet his self-important gaze with a withering glare. “Have fun out there. See if you can beat me.”

You do end up beating him, much to the shock of the black ponytailed boy at his side. Your prior research into the so-called “honored one” had paid off and you managed to hold out long enough until one of his main offensive techniques failed. Despite his unfathomable level of power, it was obvious he was still learning how to use it, and you used that fact to your advantage. He may have been strong, but you were much faster. Still, Tokyo takes the victory solely because the ponytail student, Geto, had a better grip on his technique than Gojo and wiped out your team. You let yourself bask in the fact that you beat the one projected to become the strongest sorcerer in centuries, and allowed yourself to smirk when he approached you after the game.

“Have fun out there, honored one?” His mouth breaks into another lopsided grin now that you’re actually talking to him. Whereas others avoided you because of your cold exterior, he seemed to have you warming up to him. It was confusing, to say the least, but you weren’t opposed to making a friend, even if he was a pretentious asshole.

“Mmm, I did. I think some apologies are in order, too.”

“Apologies?”

“Yeah, sorry for thinking you couldn’t beat me. You’re really strong and I think that’s pretty cool.” You don’t know why his compliment leaves you breathless, face warming and feeling slightly dizzy. “How’d you get your technique to activate so quickly?”

It turned out that Gojo Satoru loved asking questions, and you found yourself enjoying answering them. After Tokyo prevailed in the Exchange Event, he somehow stole your phone long enough to input his number along with a dumb photo of him beaming into the camera. The first time he texted you, you thought it was a joke and considered stomping down to the Tokyo campus and demanding what was going on. But, when you realized the idiot who put in his contact information was indeed the same one that you beat during the Exchange Event, calls with him became common while you were doing mundane little tasks; he enjoyed your voice even while you were doing dishes or folding laundry or cooking dinner. Calling before and after missions integrated itself into both of your routines and you grew to expect a tirade of worried messages if you forgot to let him know you were safe. On one occasion, you exited the veil to find him leaning against a tree, completely unannounced.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you as well, gorgeous,” he says without missing a beat. “Glad to see you’re alive after you went radio silent.”

“I was in there for an hour, you clingy bastard.”

“Hey, at least put ‘sexy’ in front of calling me a clingy bastard.” You snort and he gives you a rare soft smile, one you’ve found was reserved for when he was feeling extra fond of your tendency to push him away. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Food. I’ve been starving to death waiting for you to finish up.”

“Again, it was an hour-long mission.”

“Felt like an eternity to be away from you,” he teases, but intuition says that he actually means some of that sentiment.

Over time, he started breaking through the walls you meticulously constructed to keep people out. Questions about your technique became questions about your family, your past, your fears, and your strengths. He picked up on little things that no one picked up on before, like the way you pick your calluses when you’re anxious or bite your lip when you’re concentrating on solving a problem. He made you laugh, made your heart flutter, made you feel like a love-infected fool every time he breathed in your direction. It was also why it shocked you so much when you saw him as the strongest sorcerer alive, not just the dorky jester who liked to eat all of your candy when you weren’t looking.

The events of twenty seconds seemed to slow to centuries when the piece of metal struck your side. Time became syrup-like, thick and murky to the point where you couldn’t tell when you’d inhaled or exhaled last. You saw the scene in front of you between blinks: Satoru’s face contorting in rage when you collapse, a blinding strike of violet annihilating the Curse, the remainder of the Curse’s henchmen tumbling over each other to attack you in such a vulnerable state. They’re reduced to piles of dust the instant before Satoru raises you from the ground, your head lulling against his chest. Even when your consciousness fades, your body aches to be touching him, fingers gripping his hand when you’re rolled away on a gurney. When you wake in the infirmary of Jujutsu Tech, he’s still holding your hand like you’d disappear if he let go.

“‘Toru,” you croak, your voice hoarse and ugly from all the dust you’d inhaled. Still, his head snaps upward at the sound of your voice, eyes wider than pool balls. “W-water.” You point weakly to a cup on the bedside table and he darts away to fill it from the cooler in the hallway. He tries to hold the rim to your lips and you choke out a laugh, gently pushing his hand away. “Okay, you don’t need to do all that.”

“What if I want to? Let me take care of you, idiot,” he mutters and you allow him to gingerly help you sip the water. “Don’t tell Shoko I came in here, okay?”

“Why not?”

“She told me to go back to my room and rest–”

“And obviously you didn’t listen,” you finish for him and he smiles apologetically.

“What can I say? You can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart.”

“You stayed with me while I was sleeping?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought you’d die if I weren’t with you.”

“How very humble of you, Satoru,” you deadpan and he lightly flicks your forehead.

“You know what I mean. Can’t have you dying on me before I can tell you how much I love you, right?” You’re speechless and are half-waiting for him to say that he’s joking, but he doesn’t.

“I don’t understand.” You shake your head in disbelief, baffled as to how he could have fallen in love with you when you tried so hard to push him away. “I’m ‘cold.’ I’m ‘heartless.’ I don't have the capacity to care about anyone other than myself. That’s what I’ve been told my entire life, so how could you fall in love with someone like me?”

“How could I not? It’s not everyday you find someone who sees you as a human being and not as a fallen god. If anything, you did this to yourself because I do love a challenge,” he explains matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes, letting him take your hand and press kisses to each of your knuckles.

“Tell me how much you love me, Satoru.” He doesn’t even wait for you to finish your sentence.

“I love you, just how you are, and I’d fall in love with you a million times more if I needed to.”

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #ask iris!#jjk fluff

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athanwritesthings · 4 months

Text

Fall Out || Fem!Reader [Izabella Bardot] x Damian Priest - Pt. 1

A/N: *snickers* all I had in brain was angst and with the ideas I got, it'll make perfect for this to be long and to have continuations. Expect another part or two in the next couple days after I get to requests. Have fun!

Word Count: 1,596

Summary: You've always been the one to cause issues, finding the solace in making your opponents and rivals second guess or become over-emotional. You tangle yourself into a rivalry with Rhea as your team feuded with the men of TJD, and in turn, always managing to find a way to get under their skin, especially Damian's. At least, you hoped you would... All (permanent) characters in Pt. 1: Izabella Bardot [Main character] Grayson Waller, Randy Orton, Kevin Owens, Rhea Ripley, Dominik Mysterio, Finn Balor, Damian Priest.

It was another Monday Night Raw, another night listening to my teammates talk and bicker in my locker room as I pull my boots up, tying them as I listened to them. I sit up a few moments later, leaning my elbows on my knees, looking up to the three of them.

For as much as they bickered, they worked well together, even with them being extremely hotheaded and easy to anger. With this little bickering session, Grayson stood between Randy and Kevin as they argued, always acting as their mediator.

This was apparently their way of figuring out how we wanted to deal with the Judgement Day. As if we weren't equipped with the tools to do so already. Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms, just listening to Randy and Kevin's arguments.

As much they fought about little things like this, you'd think I'd honestly find them annoying. That'd be quite the opposite. I found it comical, always having a smile broken out on my face as I'd watch on. I made it a thing to step in if it went way too long, of course, just so they'd divert their attention back to the match - and actually not waste energy on yelling each others head off.

After a few good minutes of listening to them, and Grayson shooting me a pleading look for help, I finally speak up. "Hey. We're not here to continuously fight or bicker with each other." Kevin goes to open his mouth again, but I tilt my head slightly from where I sat. He stopped before even starting, a small snort leaving Randy, who also quieted after seeing the look on my face.

Grayson, once the two other men hushed, looked to me, his brows furrowing slightly. "Ya gonna be out there with us at ringside, right?" I roll my eyes slightly, even though his tone was one of worry. Standing up, I walk over, my shoulder leaning into Randy's arm a bit. His arm snakes around my shoulders, my eyes staying on Grayson.

"I always am, aren't I?"

I could see the nerves that had Grayson in a vice grip, as all four of us stood in the gorilla. He had never been the type to be so nervous, always noted as the other, mostly, level headed member of the group. Kevin must've seen and registered this too, his hand giving Grayson a reassuring clap on the shoulder, a half smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Randy's frame seemingly towered over me as he stood behind me, wrapping wrist tape around his wrists and hands. His gaze, after what felt like a good few minutes of drilling into the back of my head, looks to Grayson. "You'll be good. We're gonna be out there with you." Always blunt and to the point, Randy was.

A faint smile crossed Grayson's face nonetheless with the reassurance from us. The smile slowly fades for a split second as Kevin's theme goes first, hearing the crowds almost deafening cheers as soon as it hit, and he came out. Following suite a few seconds later, Grayson goes out with his theme, meeting Kevin at the stage.

You'd expect it not to be such a loud pop whenever Randy's theme would play, but the crowd always proved you wrong. At that point, with my first step out to the gaze of the crowd, I threw my gimmick on, a wide, yet sly smile on my face as I walked out with Randy. His fingers were intertwined with mine, before letting them go after a few seconds as I walked out in front of him a couple steps, him following me.

It didn't take me long to look away from the crowd around us as we made our way to the ring, my gaze connecting with Damian for a split second, before sliding over to Rhea, who stood in ring with the three other members of Judgement Day. One would think she'd kill with the looks she doled out to others.

I lift my hand, waving with my fingers to her, and partially to Damian, Finn and Dominik's eyes fixated on the other three in my group. Damian's jaw was set, an almost permanent seeming scowl on his face, ever since we walked out.

His shoulders rolled back, ripping his eyes from me as Randy let me up the stairs first, Kevin following suite behind him, Grayson electing a different way up, pulling himself to stand up on the ringside.

A little laugh leaves my closed lips, ropes opened for me by Randy. Damian's eyes didn't dare look back at me again, my mission seemingly being effective up to this point in time. Getting under Rhea, Damian, Finn and Dominik's skin, had been a total success so far.

Perhaps my mission had been more than a total success. With the ref not looking, and with Randy and Kevin off the apron and on the ground after Dom and Finn attacked them as Damian went for his finisher to reach the matches end, I pulled Damian off Grayson, canceling the pin just as the ref went for the three count. A grin, and a laugh as a look of complete surprise and anger crossed his face. "What the fuck?" Was all that he let out, his voice an angered yell.

Rhea, just as she looked at the crowd, a smile on her face as she counted along, had missed me pulling Damian off. I wave, once again, my fingers at him, an innocent smile on my face. That had been wiped off my face quick, seeing him move quick as he slid out of the ring fully, fully deciding to chase me then.

A look of fear flashed in my eyes as I took the initiative to run, making sure to run towards where Randy and Kevin were.

As soon I passed Randy, who was already standing up, his body blocked Damian from passing him. "Touch her, and you're dead." When I heard this, I knew it was safe to stop and turn. I laugh lightly, a grin on my face once again.

"Oh, so sorry about that! I didn't mean to do that." My grin still on my face, as I watch Damian, scoffing, his gaze on me for a few seconds. With my eyes on him, I kneel to Kevin, who's sitting up now, on his way to standing. "Get Dom and Finn dealt with, you two."

Randy, looking to Kevin when he called his name, easily registered the look on Kevin's face, as Damian turned to get in the ring before getting counted out. Grayson, on the opposing side of the ring, watched, as he leaned against the middle rope, on one knee.

All it took was Damian to look at me one last time when he got into the ring, then seeing his team taken down from ringside, and Grayson capitalizing on the distraction, hitting Damian with the Rolling Thunder Stunner, and getting the one… two… three count!

Rhea, who was already screaming her head off at Damian, stared in complete shock, with her hands almost resting on her head, before she stuck her hands out at the ref. Grayson, rolling out of the ring, had a huge smile on his face. I ran up, Kevin and Randy following, all three of us smiling. Grayson's arm rested around my shoulders, one of my hands resting on his back, as we walked backwards, the crowd cheering loudly.

Back in my locker room, I packed my duffel bag, my face slack and not full of any emotion, except showing off how tired I had been. I was ready to go to the hotel room. Rest assured, I was due to see someone from TJD as soon as I walked out, all before Randy got back from his locker room.

Sure enough, with my luck, when I opened my locker room door, Rhea and Damian stood a few feet away from me, Damian's arms crossed over his chest, Rhea's hands in her pockets. "Finally coming out of her cave, hm?" Was all I was greeted with from Rhea first.

I snort, as I look the both of them over. "Upset about your match results? Didn't like the taste of your own medicine?" Damian's arms drop as he walks over, his 6 ft 5 in height towering over me like Randy. Yet there was a different feeling to him than Randy. Maybe it was the aura or vibe he gave off.

Damian's eyes trailed me up and down with an unhappy look, crossing my own arms as I leaned back slightly. "You are meddling with the wrong people, chica. If I were you, I'd call my guard dogs off before it becomes a huge regret of yours down the line." His voice was gruff, yet the look in his eyes didn't match up with how he sounded.

"Matter of fact... Next Monday. I'll bury you so far into the ground, perhaps they will back off." Rhea states as she steps up too, an unbelieving laugh leaving my closed lips as I looked at them with an incredulous glint to my eyes.

I didn't think much of it. I never really did. As long as they were boiling because of me... that was all that truly mattered to me in the first place. I watch them leave with one last look, before I go off to find Randy, Grayson and Kevin.

I never told them about the interaction between Rhea, Damian and I...

(to be continued...)

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x y/n #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio #finn balor #damian priest #randy orton #kevin owens #grayson waller #fem!reader

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peachy-posy · 7 months

Text

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 2)

Summary: "His expression would be unreadable to most who don’t know him. He seems neutral, neither pleased nor displeased. You know him better than that, though. The corners of his lips twitch downward. His eyes are more narrow than normal. His breathing is deep and controlled– too controlled. His silence speaks volumes, more than words could."

A/N: Second chapter is out! Sorry it took a minute, it's been a busy week for me! Chapter 1 AO3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, arguing, panic attack, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9k

It doesn’t take long for your group to locate the child’s mother. She is sobbing, clutching the boy to her chest as she profusely thanks the three of you. She had been taken as a hostage in the town square, while her son had slipped off to try and find a place to hide. The boy, now feeling much more secure, begins excitedly recounting all the details of your meeting.

“Mommy! She came out of nowhere, and cut the bad guy!”

You keep a pleasant, but strained, smile on your face throughout his mostly accurate version of events, all the while feeling tension emanating off your partner in waves after hearing how everything happened. After bidding the small family farewell, the three of you begin the walk to the inn, an oppressive silence in the air. You can’t decide which you hate more: the thought of a longer silence or the inevitable conversation to come.

Wolfwood, observant as ever, gives you two some space once you arrive at the inn.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m gonna run some errands,” he breaks the silence, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “See you kids later,” he finishes good-naturedly, waving goodbye and turning on his heels.

You sigh, watching him leave. It isn’t long before you feel a hand take yours, fingers lacing together. You turn to face your partner, but he’s already opening the door to the main entrance of the quaint inn. He guides you both inside, offering a practiced smile to the elderly innkeeper that greets you with a raspy voice.

The walk to your shared room stretches for what feels like an eternity. Your head is throbbing, both from your injury and from the preemptive stress you’re feeling.

From experience, you know that Vash is quite introspective when it comes to more serious matters of the heart. When you’d explained this to Meryl once in the past, she was quite surprised, given his typical carefree attitude.

He likes to take the time to quietly organize his thoughts before diving into important conversations with you. You both appreciate it and loathe it, because it’s currently causing you to lethally overthink everything.

After unlocking the old wooden door to your room, he releases your hand and immediately begins rummaging through both of your belongings, and you know he’s looking for the first aid kit. You shift your weight from one leg to another, twisting your fingers as you observe him from your spot by the door.

You don’t know that you’ve ever seen him as quiet as he’s been the past hour. You wouldn’t necessarily consider yourself to be an excessively anxious person, but right now your nerves are off the charts.

“I can take care of it,” you finally offer, sick of fidgeting awkwardly near the entryway of the room. You end his search by grabbing the first aid supplies from their place in your bag yourself, not meeting his eyes. You walk over to the mirror, wincing at your reflection.

A small wound from the impact of the gun’s grip sits a few inches from your temple, bruises already starting to bloom around it. Dried blood is caked onto your skin, surrounding the immediate area of the injury. Overall, you know that it looks a lot worse than it actually is. You may have a mild concussion, but even that hasn’t caused many issues other than a headache that has already begun improving. Various bruises and scrapes scattered on your body are the worst of your other injuries. You are very lucky.

You are drawn out of your thoughts by Vash’s voice. “No, it’s okay. Sit down over here,” he instructs with a somewhat clipped tone. He’s holding a dampened rag he quickly grabbed from the bathroom while you’d inspected yourself.

You hesitate, chewing your lip, but ultimately relent. You turn away from the mirror and trudge to the spot on the bed he’d gestured to, feet feeling like they’re made of lead. You sit down across from Vash and hand him the first aid kit.

He takes the supplies and gets started right away, lifting the rag to your temple. He dabs gingerly at your head, and you glance at him, trying to gauge his thoughts.

His expression would be unreadable to most who don’t know him. He seems neutral, neither pleased nor displeased. You know him better than that, though.

The corners of his lips twitch downward. His eyes are more narrow than normal. His breathing is deep and controlled–too controlled. His silence speaks volumes, more than words could. He isn’t happy, though you know he isn’t angry at you directly.

Several minutes of tense silence follow your observations, the only noises in the room being the ambient noises from his tending to the wound on your head. Even though he’s upset, his touch is featherlight on your skin, not wanting to exacerbate your pain in the slightest.

Finally, he closes the first aid kit with a sigh, seemingly finished with his work. His troubled eyes meet your own as he speaks. “Can we talk about what happened?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, going silent to give him an opportunity to begin.

He gazes at you a moment longer, then starts the conversation rather simply. “I just wish you had done what I asked you to do.”

“Well, usually I would have. This time, though, that would have meant leaving that child to fend for himself,” you try, hoping he can understand your reasoning. “It’s not like I wanted this to happen.”

“He would have been okay. Wolfwood and I had already taken care of things by the time this was happening.”

You raise an eyebrow, not able to stop yourself. “If you’d ‘taken care of things,’ then there wouldn’t have been several men outside of the tavern chasing down a child.”

He inhales deeply. “My point is that I would have gotten to him and helped him.” There’s a hint of frustration seeping into his tone.

“How was I supposed to know what was happening in town? I was completely alone. I had no idea what was going on,” you argue, irritation lacing your words as well.

A sigh escapes his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know… I guess I just wish you would’ve trusted me.”

His statement gives you pause, confusion riddling your features. “You know I trust you more than anyone. Trust has nothing to do with this.”

He shakes his head. “I think it has everything to do with it. It’s having trust that I’ve got everything covered, that you don’t need to intervene,” he counters. “The last thing I want is you voluntarily getting yourself into a dangerous situation.”

“Vash, it’s not like that! I need you to understand my position!” You argue, standing up from the bed. “They had this kid at gunpoint! I’m not taking any chances on that. I had no choice. It would have been wrong to stand by and let it happen.”

“I need you to understand my position!” He gets up, moving to stand in front of you. “Mayfly, you don’t have experience fighting! You don’t have any way to really protect yourself. The thought of you going against armed, dangerous people makes me terrified.”

Your heart aches, hearing equal parts fear and exasperation in his voice. You understand his thoughts, and are even willing to acknowledge that you acted somewhat impulsively. However, if you could go back to that moment, you wouldn’t change how you handled it.

“Vash, you aren’t being fair right now. If you’re terrified at the thought of me being in that situation, imagine being a defenseless child at their mercy,” you point out frustratedly. “I know all too well that I don’t know how to fight. But I think I did fine for being a helpless damsel,” you add, not able to keep the bitterness out of your tone.

He shakes his head, exhaling as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think of you like that. You know I don’t.” He pauses, dropping his hand from his face, then looks at you. “Okay. Let’s walk through this. You were able to immobilize the one that you saw. But you didn’t disarm him. You also didn’t notice the other guy just around the corner. What was your plan? Just figure it out as you go and hope you don’t get shot?”

You throw your hands in the air, knowing he isn’t trying to be condescending, but not able to help feeling a bit talked down to. “I don’t know! Maybe! But I knew I couldn’t just stand around and wait for something terrible to happen to that boy!”

You walk towards the room’s small window, back facing him as you stare outside, leaning against it. Your intentions aren’t to come across as petty, and Vash knows that. But you do need a break for a moment. He doesn’t press you any further for now, and the room dissolves into that unbearable silence once more.

You hear him sit back down on the bed, the old springs groaning under his weight. A tired sigh from his lips prompts you to face him again, body still resting against the window. He is clearly deep in thought, his brow furrowed, his gloved hand covering his mouth. You catch his eye as you turn, his deep turquoise ones locking with yours, his eyes clear as he finishes gathering his thoughts.

His voice cuts through the silence once more. “I understand why you did what you did. You’re brave, which is one of the things I love about you. Your compassion and willingness to put others before yourself helps in making you such a good healer, not to mention a good person.”

Despite the troubled look in his eyes, he briefly has a small smile on his face as he describes his thoughts of you. You blink in surprise, lips parting as you take in his words. You didn’t expect praise from him during a conversation like this.

“I know you feel like you were in an impossible situation today, and your desire to help others spurred you into action. But…” he trails off momentarily, and your heart beats rapidly in anticipation. “Please, I’m asking for you to not do anything like it again.”

You visibly deflate, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You’re so tired, and your head is starting to hurt again.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“You have to,” he presses, and you can hear hints of something like desperation in his voice.

“No.” You push yourself away from the window, standing upright once more. “I’m sorry, Vash. I’m sorry that I scared you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t listen. But if I saw another person in a situation like that one day, I’d never forgive myself if I just watched.” You pause, trying to find the right words to continue. “I trust you, and I always trust you will do everything you can to help those around you… but not even you can control everything. Things can and will slip between the cracks.”

You have done your best to keep negative emotions from bleeding into your tone. Vash, given everything he’s gone through and continues to go through, has a burning need to save everyone. But even with his amazing, inhuman abilities, it’s an impossible sentiment to have that you alone can bear the burden of keeping everyone safe.

His eyes widen at your words, and before you realize it, he’s on his feet, taking long strides to reach you. He grasps you by the shoulders, looking into your eyes with such raw fear and earnestness you shrink back slightly in surprise. His grip on you isn’t painful or tight, but it feels like he’s holding onto you like a lifeline.

“This is my job. Please. I need you to let me handle this. I need to keep y-“ he pauses, inhaling deeply, then continues, “everyone safe.”

Your hands clench into fists, and the words you want to say feel heavy on your tongue. You hate this. You hate that you have to have this conversation.

“I will let you handle things. But I can’t promise that I won’t do what I did today if the situation ever arises again,” you reply quietly. “You said you understood why I did what I did… so, surely you can understand why I would do it again.” You don’t meet his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt on his face.

His hands slowly fall from your shoulders, and he steps back. Though he stands just in front of you, it feels much further away than that. Fear, ice cold, begins forming in your chest, spreading into your body. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

“Maybe…” He begins, his voice low. Hesitant. “It’d be for the best if we don’t travel together, then.”

Time seems to move more slowly for a moment. You feel your eyes widen, and you swallow thickly. His words hurt worse than any wound you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you serious?” You ask incredulously.

“As I’ve ever been about anything.”

Now, it’s your turn to step away. Your heart is racing, your body trembling. Your movement finally draws his gaze back up, and you think you see shock cross his face for a moment. You can’t be sure though.

“I…” it feels like cotton is sitting in your mouth. “I can’t believe you,” you whisper, voice breaking.

He looks pained, but resolute. “I would do anything to keep you safe. Even if that means removing myself from your life.”

“That’s not your decision alone to make. You’re being cruel, Vash.” The silence that follows your words is deafening. Your lip wobbles, but you bite the inside of it, swallowing any further emotion down. Your breathing is shaky, and you feel sick. Wordlessly, you walk past him, heading for the door of the room.

Part of you hopes he’ll reach out, stopping you in your tracks, saying it was all a misunderstanding in some way. Part of you hopes he’ll let you go so you can go sob your heart out by yourself.

He remains frozen in his position, making no move to stop you.

You leave.

When you hear the ‘click’ of the door shutting, you begin a slow walk down the hallway. Your pace becomes brisk after a moment, though, the gravity of what just happened finally resonating with you. It’s not long before you are nearly jogging, feeling like the building is closing in on you– suffocating you. You race down the hall with long strides, desperately trying to avoid running. You’re doing your absolute best to hold it together, not wanting any attention from bystanders, but you can’t stop the sob that tears from your throat. You slap your trembling hand to your mouth to stifle any noise, walking down the stairs and towards the large front door. Ignoring the look of concern from the innkeeper, you walk directly out the door and into the street.

It’s not very crowded in the area of town you all chose to stay at. Even still, you feel like you have to run away as fast as your feet can take you.

You waste no time in your search for a place where you can be alone. You finally allow yourself to break into the run your body is itching for, in search of a temporary asylum to ride this out. A stray tear rolls down your cheek, and your breathing has begun to deteriorate more rapidly, the running exacerbating it.

You don’t have time to course correct when you hear a nearby bakery’s door open, a bell ringing softly as voices bid each other farewell. You crash right into the person walking out of the door, a moment of lightheadedness rushing through you.

Luckily, he seems to have excellent coordination, because he is able to catch you with a small ‘woah!’, righting both of you and preventing a nasty fall.

You gasp a short apology, and try to move around him, determined to press forward. He grabs your wrist, gently preventing you from fleeing. It’s at this point that you finally look up, the face of Wolfwood staring back at you. Your heart sinks, and he’s giving you a curious look.

“Now, that’s no way to greet a friend,” he chides playfully. After you continue to stare at him in stunned silence, he asks, “you okay?” Though it’s becoming fairly obvious at this point that you aren’t.

You nod regardless, trying to tug your wrist away. Praying the stubborn priest will mind his own business. He holds on.

“Let me go,” you plead, voice weak but desperate.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t feel great about letting you run off in this state, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m fine,” you insist, tugging harder. Fresh tears of frustration spill from your eyes.

“You don’t look fine,” he counters, his voice sounding as light as always. Despite his easy tone, the furrow in his brow betrays him.

“It’s none of your business!” You snap at him, giving your arm one last, desperate tug. Luckily, that seems to do the trick; you stumble, but quickly find your footing and take off. He calls after you, but you keep going.

You’ll apologize to him later. For now, finding a spot to ride this out takes precedence.

You stumble upon an area with relative ease, all but throwing yourself right into it. It’s a quiet little alley, right at the edge of town. The buildings that create it look empty currently, so you know you won’t be bothering anyone and vice versa.

You allow yourself to crumple to the ground, back pressed against a wall as you try and catch your breath. You finally allow the emotions you’d swallowed down to be felt.

Your breath shudders as you force yourself to replay the conversation with Vash. You can’t believe that after everything you have been through with each other, he would still even consider parting ways. He hasn’t suggested it in ages; certainly not since becoming romantically involved. You know Vash is a self sacrificing idiot, but you allow yourself to begin entertaining the line of thought that he has somehow lost his feelings for you. Your rational mind argues with you, saying that is most certainly not the case. You, however, find yourself completely at the mercy of your irrational mind, rearing its ugly head full force.

If he really loves you as much as you love him, he’d never suggest that.

You choke on a sob, your body trembling. You feel like you can’t breathe. Your heart races, and a cold sweat breaks out all over you.

Pathetic.

You pull your knees to your chest, clutching them fiercely as your body is wracked with shaking. You curl into your knees, fingernails digging into your arms. As you press your forehead against the tops of your knees, you begin to realize it’s even harder to breathe now. You didn’t think it was possible to feel even worse, but here you are, on the verge of hyperventilation. You would’ve allowed yourself to fall into that pit as well if it weren’t for the abrupt sensation of a large, calloused hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You flinch, head whipping up to find one Nicholas D. Wolfwood crouching in front of you.

Your tears flow steadily, and you hiccup and gasp. This was the very last thing you wanted to happen.

You shove your head back where it was.

“Nuh-uh. Head up. C’mon,” he chides, trying to coax you back up.

You furiously shake your head, taking a shuddering breath in between sobs. He sighs, and then manually lifts your head with his hands, much to your irritation.

“Don’t give me that look! You can’t get full, deep breaths all balled up like that.” He softens his tone slightly to try and reach you. “C’mon now, you need to try and take some real breaths.”

Your stubborn nature is able to break through the panic, and you level him with a glare, wanting nothing more than for him to go away. He holds your gaze just as stubbornly. Your head spins, and you feel fresh tears roll down your cheeks.

After engaging in a brief battle of wills, you relent, a brief moment of clarity making you realize just how compromised your judgment has become in such a short period of time. You look down, attempting to focus on regulating your choppy breathing. After a moment, you manage a few good breaths, and he shows his approval with a grin.

“Now, if you’re up to a new challenge, why don’t you try breathing the way I am?”

You hesitate, but ultimately nod, and begin trying to mimic his breathing pattern.

Every time you try to inhale deeply, your breath catches on a sob. You begin to feel frustrated with yourself and begin to clam up, the cold tendrils of panic wrapping around you once more.

He notices almost immediately. “Hey, hey, none of that! Just… take your time,” he encourages patiently, taking a seat by your side with an unceremonious plop. He takes your hand, putting it on his chest so you could feel the rhythm of his chest rising and falling. “We’ve got nowhere to be.”

As you feel your mind beginning to clear, you find yourself grateful for Wolfwood’s easygoing personality. It helps to anchor you in that little alley.

Ten minutes end up passing before you feel more stable and calm. You lean your head back against the wall of the alley, feeling beads of sweat at your hairline. You slowly withdraw your hand, resting it in your lap. You catch his dark eyes, smiling gratefully.

“Thank you. Where did you learn all that?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. Lots of the kids at the orphanage would get bouts of panic like that. You just pick stuff up eventually.”

You hum noncommittally, taking in another piece of your somewhat secretive friend’s life.

“Well, I really appreciate it. I… I’ve never experienced that in my life. I’m sorry,” you murmur, slightly embarrassed by your panic-fueled actions.

He waves you off. “Don’t worry about it. But don’t do it again, either,” he adds, his voice feigning sternness.

You huff a small laugh, a smile pulling at your lips.

Silence stretches a moment. When he’s sure you’re truly okay, he presses. “So, what happened?”

You bite your lip, looking away a bit obstinately. “It’s nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Nothin’, huh? That sure was a whole lotta nothin’.”

You open your mouth to reply, but then close it, thinking better of it. You finally settle with something vague.

“Vash and I had a…” you trail off. You don’t like the sound of ‘argument’ for some reason. “A difficult conversation.”

“I figured as much. You guys don’t really seem like the quarreling type, though.”

You tend to agree. “Normally, we’re not.”

“I’m assuming it was because of what happened earlier today?”

Your silence is all the confirmation he needs. Before you realize it, the details of the conversation are unwittingly spilling from your mouth.

“I… he asked me to not do what I did again. But I can’t promise that. It’s not like I’m trying to intentionally throw myself into every fight from now on, but I couldn’t just watch when they were pointing a gun at a child. And everything turned out fine in the end anyway.”

Wolfwood hums thoughtfully when you finish talking, considering what to say. You keep going though, not able to stop what you’ve started.

“He said we should part ways if I couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t do it again,” you confide, feeling the burn of tears start up again. “I-I… couldn’t…” You cut yourself off with a hitch in your breath, the tears spilling over your lashes. You rub them away with your hands, but they just keep coming.

Wolfwood sighs, plucking a crumpled cigarette from a pocket and putting it in his mouth, lighting it.

“That idiot.” He says through gritted teeth, talking around the stick of rolled tobacco. He shakes his head, a small cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he exhales. “He couldn’t leave you behind. Not for long, anyway.”

You lift your head, gazing at him as he speaks, clinging to every word.

He takes the cigarette from his mouth, resting it between his fingers to talk easier. “He’s so in love with you it’s almost gross to watch,” he finishes nonchalantly, and you feel your face heat up.

“But… I wish you could’ve seen him. He was so…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “He was very intense,” you settle for, your voice quiet.

“You wanna know what I think?” At the sound of your affirmative hum, he continues. “I think he was scared shitless today when we found out you’d gotten hurt, and he’s bad at handling it. You two are too similar for your own good, wanting to help everyone. In fact, I think it’s the root of the whole problem: he doesn’t want you doing the same shit he does. Listen, I don’t think you did the wrong thing by helpin’ out that kid. But, you got hurt in the process, and that man feels sole responsibility for everything that happens to you.”

You begin to protest, but he hushes you. “It doesn’t matter if his sentiment is true or not. He fully believes it. I understand that you can make your own decisions. He does too, but I think he also thinks that because you’re traveling with him, it’s his fault when you’re in danger. That’s my two cents, anyway.”

You allow Wolfwood’s words to settle in your mind. It’s not necessarily a solution to your conflict with Vash, but it’s helping you look at the conversation differently. The longer you think about it, the more you know that Wolfwood is right. You think of the scars littered across your lover’s body, the sacrifices he’s made just to help those who scarred him in the first place. He might even be fearful of you developing those very habits; after all, in his eyes, it’s only permissible when it’s himself.

Finally, you sigh, defeated. “Yeah, you’re probably right... I need to go back.”

Wolfwood nods with approval, and he heaves himself off the ground. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it, letting him help you up. He grabs his Punisher, which had apparently been leaning nearby against a wall of the alley this whole time, slinging it over his shoulder easily. He gives you a grin, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth crookedly, his eyes crinkling. His smile is contagious, and you give him a playful nudge as you walk out of the alley.

“Thanks for the help, Father Nicholas,” you joke, eyeing the priest teasingly.

He adjusts the massive cross, an amused expression on his face. “Hey, it’s all in a good day’s work.”

You walk in what feels like the first comfortable silence you’ve had all day, and you are truly thankful in that moment to have a friend like him. As you begin approaching the inn, though, anxiety begins trickling back into your chest. You glance at Wolfwood, knowing your nerves must be showing.

“What do I do if he still wants to leave me behind?” You ask, your voice small.

“Stop worryin’ about it so much, kid. Just go talk to him,” he replies easily, gently pushing you forward. You swallow thickly, trying to find your resolve.

Wolfwood turns on his heel, walking away from you. “I’ll bet Needle-Noggin’s already regretting everything.” He adds, glancing over his shoulder.

“Okay. Okay. Thanks, Nick,” you call, giving him one last grateful glance. He waves you off, seemingly heading for the bar down the street.

You walk through the threshold of the building, avoiding the inquisitive eyes of the innkeeper from earlier. Feeling quite bashful, you briskly walk past the counter, heading up the creaky stairs to the floor you’re staying on.

Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, your chest aching with the all too familiar crush of anxiety. You can feel your body trembling, adrenaline spiking and giving you a dizzying rush.

You can do this. This is the man you are in love with. There’s never been something that you two couldn’t talk about.

With a deep breath, you take several strides to the door, reaching out to grab the handle. You hate that you’re shaking so visibly.

The door opens suddenly, and you startle, stepping backwards reflexively. In front of you, Vash looks just as surprised to see you.

You take in his appearance. He looks stressed, his eyes puffy and red. His hair is damp, floppier than normal.

“Vash,” you breathe out quietly.

“Mayfly,” he replies, his voice just as breathy. Several emotions pass over his face; relief, concern, and sadness being the ones you recognize almost immediately.

He doesn’t hesitate to close the distance between you, wrapping you in a tight hug. You close your eyes and the tension melts from your body, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent as you wrap your arms around his middle. One of his hands cups the back of your head, fingers threading slightly into your hair. The scratch against your scalp sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. You feel his chin and nose press into your hair, giving you a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I was so worried. I was just about to go find you.”

Guilt creeps into your consciousness, but you try to push it aside. “‘m okay,” you mumble into his chest.

He pulls back, his hands cupping your cheeks. He takes in your appearance, lips pressed into a thin line. His thumbs rub small circles on your cheekbones before retracting his hands.

“Let’s go inside, okay?” He suggests, and you nod wordlessly in reply, following him into the room. He’s showered since you’ve been gone, and he’s changed into more casual clothes.

You are exhausted, but that feels normal after what happened today. You sit on the bed, resting your hands in your lap, looking down. Vash walks over, standing right in front of you.

His hand reaches down, stroking your cheek softly. You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch. His fingers graze down your face, finding your chin, and he gently tips your head up. Opening your eyes, you see his own staring down at you.

He soaks in the sight of you, guilt marring his beautiful features as he studies your face.

“You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question. You don’t answer.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. Your brow furrows, and you shake your head. “I should have followed you.”

“Don’t be sorry, everything turned out okay,�� you try to reassure. “Um… Wolfwood found me, actually,” you admit. “Stubborn bastard wouldn’t let me wallow alone,” you add with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood somewhat. You take note of his similarly disheveled appearance, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I left so suddenly. Looks like you needed me, too,” you murmur, heart aching at the evidence of shed tears on his face.

Vash shakes his head, giving you similar treatment that you gave him. “I’m fine.” Vash smiles, albeit sad. “I’ll have to thank Wolfwood later.”

You pause, heart racing as you consider how to get this conversation started. “He helped me gain some perspective, I think.”

Vash says nothing, but looks at you with a curious expression.

“I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean to scare you today. But I need you to know that my decisions are my own, and the consequences that follow are my own, too. I know you don’t like the idea of me fighting… but maybe it would be helpful for me to learn something. Because I can’t stand by and watch people get hurt. Even if you… um, l-leave me, I’d still do it.” You struggle getting the words out, but know they need to be said. You can’t bear the thought of him actually leaving you. You’d probably follow him to the ends of the planet.

He smiles wistfully, sitting beside you on the bed. “I know, Mayfly. I did some thinking, too. You were right earlier. I wasn’t being fair, and I’m sorry. When that little boy ran into us, telling us there was a girl who had helped him who was in trouble, I just…” he inhales sharply, taking your hand. “I knew it was you. I just had a feeling. I’ve never been so scared. I had no idea what they would do to you. And then actually seeing you, seeing that man trying to hurt you, I couldn’t stand it.” You look at him, your chest aching with emotion, waiting for him to gather himself. “I am so scared of losing you,” he finishes quietly, and you notice his eyes water.

You reach up to wipe the tear that falls from his lashes, cupping his face.

“Then please don’t leave me behind,” you whisper, voice breaking.

He pulls you close to his body, stroking your back with gentle fingers.

“I won’t. I couldn’t. I’m so sorry. I panicked–I never should’ve even said that,” he whispers into your hair.

It feels like a massive weight has been lifted from your chest. You let out a shuddering breath, feeling so relieved. He holds you close, hand moving in soothing circles on your back.

You sit there for a moment with your eyes closed, quietly taking in the sensation of his breath fanning over your skin and his fingers on your back.

He moves to lay back on the bed, and you crawl towards him, cuddling close and resting your head on his chest. You are so exhausted you could easily fall asleep now, his fingers grazing patterns onto your arm softly, his heartbeat steady under your ear. Your head is pounding, but getting better every minute.

The silence gives you time to dissect the events of the past hour more calmly. You feel so much better after having worked everything out with Vash, but one thing lingers in your mind, feeling like a small thorn in your heart. You have to talk to him about it before falling asleep.

You sleepily reach for his free hand, which is resting to the side of his abdomen, grabbing a few of his fingers. You feel his patterns stutter momentarily, but then resume like normal. He tries his best to give your hand a squeeze with his fingers.

“What’s up, Mayfly?” He asks quietly.

You’re so, so tired, but need to get this out. It’s not an eloquently thought-out beginning to the conversation, but you need him to know that you’re thinking of him too. You don’t want to let this go.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left. You cried and were alone. I had someone, but you were alone, and I should’ve been here,” you whisper, knowing it sounds like word vomit. Your heart is hurting for your partner, though. You can feel a sting behind your eyes, but swallow it down firmly. You did one of the very things you’d vowed to never do after learning about his life of solitude: leave him alone to cry.

You feel him release a long breath, and you can’t tell if it’s relief or exasperation without seeing his face. He plants a small kiss on the crown of your head, and whispers, “Just rest a while. I’ll be here when you wake back up. I promise we can talk some more then.”

#trigun #vash #vash the stamepde #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #vash x you #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #peachy writes!

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fandom-blackhole · 1 year

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hi, i really liked your work in ao3, so i’d like to request about joel where reader is pregnant and she’s freaking out a bit about telling joel, afraid he’s not going to take the new well, mostly cause of his traumas, but also cause it’s not a safe environment to raise a kid. thank you!

So sorry this took me absolutely forever to get to my lovely, school has been super busy for me! But I'm so happy that you liked my other Joel works and came over here send a request <3 I hope you like this!!

WC: 3.6K (this one got away from me woops)

Warnings: afab!reader, pregnancy, set in Jackson, no real spoilers (that i noticed), one cuss word, mentions of doubts and intrusive thoughts over the pregnancy, very unedited (i am tired and i am sure there are a ton of mistakes sorry)

When the sickness first started you chalked it up to food poisoning from the twenty some year old can of Cambell’s baked potato soup you had found and eaten while out on a three day supply run. Joel had warned you about eating it, but you had been too excited over the soup and the nostalgic memories of before the outbreak that it brought with it. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise when two days later as you were hunched over the toilet, Joel rubbed your back gently and waited until after you were finished and he passed you a glass of water, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the door frame and sighed, “Told you not to eat that soup.”

You had only huffed at him and lifted your hand, motioning for help, to which Joel helped you up off the floor and helped you to bed. He left you there with your glass of water and a small trash can, but not before he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and whispered, “Rest up. I’ll come check up on ya in a few hours.”

Of course when a week passed and you were still running from bed each morning, Joel insisted you visit the doctor in town. You pushed back at first, saying that it was probably just the flu, it was that time of year right before winter fully sets in and the weather bounced from warm and cold and almost everyone had at least the sniffles. Joel, however, kept pushing and eventually he won out after a particularly rough day where you could barely hold down water and you couldn’t handle Joel’s worried glances anymore.

So the next morning, before he left for his patrol, Joel walked you to the building downtown that had long been converted into a doctor’s office. The whole walk there Joel kept fretting over you.

“You sure you’ll make it back home alright? I can ask Maria to come and walk you back when she’s finished, or have her grab Ellie to do it.”

”I’ll be fine. I swear you act like I am gonna walk out of there knocking on death’s door.”

Joel of course gives you an exasperated look as the two of you turn the corner to the main hub of Jackson that was downtown and he gives a huff before saying, “You just have me worried. I’ve never seen you this sick and you haven’t been getting any better. It’s been two weeks, you should be getting better by now.”

“Joel, I really think you are making a mountain out of a molehill here,” you reply to his worry, trying to reassure him just a little, but as he opens the door for you to enter the doctor’s office he just shakes his head while looking at the ground. When he meets your eyes again, he says with full seriousness, “I don’t think you ‘re taking this serious enough. Maybe I should stay an’ make sure you don’t downplay everything.”

At that you take a step forward towards Joel and stick a finger on his chest with your eyebrows raised.

“Oh no, you are going to go do your patrol with Tommy. I can do this like an adult,” you pause and meet Joel’s hazel gaze, reading into his worry with a sigh, “and I promise I will tell the doc the whole truth, leaving nothing out. You aren’t going to lose me to something as small as the flu Joel Miller, you’re stuck with me.”

That earned you a small quirk of Joel’s lips, before he sighed again before nodding. You gave him a small smile back and pressed a kiss to Joel’s nose before whispering a goodbye and walking into the doctor’s office.

---

Well, Joel was right it would seem. It wasn’t the flu like you had assumed. You weren’t even sure how to wrap your head around what the doctor had come in and told you. He had told you that he ran the test twice just to be sure, but both had come back positive. You were pregnant and there was no doubt in your mind whose child it was.

You didn’t mean to start crying, but once it started you couldn’t stop, the tears cascading down your cheeks as your shoulders shook with silent gasping sobs. Your doctor held you, letting your tears soak his shoulder as he ran a comforting hand up and down your back. From his reaction, you doubt this is the first time he’s comforted someone with news like this, afterall who wants to bring new life into a world like the one surrounding you now, it wasn’t a safe environment for children.

Once you had calmed, the doctor pulled away and with a gentle voice started giving you the pregnancy spiel- avoid this, don’t drink that, try to eat more of this. All of it was a blur in your mind, shock clouding your thoughts. The doctor told you he estimated that you were about six or seven weeks in, which is when morning sickness tended to make an appearance. So he gave you a bottle of multivitamins to start taking as well as a chamomile and ginger tea that is supposed to help the nausea. He also gave you a small bag of honey and mint candies, saying he was a little worried about your lack of calorie and fluid intake over the last week, telling you to drink the tea and try and suck on a few candies until you thought you could hold down actual food.

As you got ready to leave, your tote of goodies, as the nurse had called it, slung over your shoulder, the doctor gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze and a small smile telling you, “Try not to worry too much, you’re in the best spot in the whole country to be going through something like this, and you aren’t alone, you have a whole town at your back. Not to mention the hardest fighter in town beside you.”

You returned his smile, though your’s was hollow and full of worry, and nodded. You wished the doctor and the nurse a good week and walked home, not stopping until you were alone in your bathroom sobbing as you slid down the wall in your shower.

---

Weeks passed and your nausea and morning sickness eased with the help of the tea which you drank in the mornings, smiling over the rim of your mug as Joel drank his coffee, always offering you some and you always declining. He never seemed any suspicious of your condition. He believed you that evening when you had told him a lie, told him that you had been right, that the doctor said it had been the flu making you sick. He didn’t question you when in the mornings after saying you were better you still drank the tea telling him you had really liked it and just didn’t want it to go to waste, when in reality you were still waking up with a queasy stomach each morning.

You aren’t completely sure why you continued to hide the pregnancy for Joel. He didn’t say it much, but he had told you that he loved you, he showed it to you almost daily through small things like bringing you fresh eggs when you mentioned a craving for cookies but you were missing that one ingredient, how he brought home you favorite food from the dining hall once you were finally able to hold down food again, how he surprised you with a gift yesterday- a small wooden bird carving he’d started for you when he noticed you’d been feeling down. He loved you, you knew this, and you loved him, but you were terrified of telling him. What if it changed how he felt? What if he didn’t take the news well?

You should know to ignore these doubts, you really should, but they cloud your thoughts anyway. Joel had already been through so much with his daughter, Sarah, and his adoptive daughter, Ellie. He’d long since confided both of their stories to you, he had told you how the death of his daughter had shattered him and how his cross country trip with Ellie had broken him back down once more. What if the pregnancy brought up all the bad memories and traumas for him? What if it was too much for him to go through the process of raising, caring, and protecting another kid?

That’s not even mentioning your own personal worries of the pregnancy. You knew Jackson was one of the safest places left, but that doesn’t mean that it is completely safe from the outside world. The town often had enough raids from hunters to remind you of that fact, and the hordes of infected wandering up north and getting closer to town were of no comfort to these worries either. And what about all the possible complications? Things could always go south and put you at risk. You could die giving birth, the baby could die, both of you could die. You both could end up as just another name on Joel’s list of loss. You didn’t want to be another source of pain for him, you didn’t want to hurt the man you loved like that.

So you don’t tell him. You continue to smile at him over the rim of your mug each morning. You continue to live your life around Jackson like nothing is different and you live in fear of the day you can no longer hide yourself from the man you love.

---

Months pass and you continue working. You continued patrols with Joel and you kept putting on the facade that everything was fine and like there wasn’t a constant fight going on in your head. Joel of course ever observant gave you worried looks like he could see through your mask, but never brought it up nor asked you what was troubling you. It was tearing you apart being the only one that knew and unable to bring yourself to say anything.

The nausea and morning sickness started to fade around the three month mark and you were truly overjoyed to not be waking up feeling ill each morning. But of course there had to be a downside. You only got another two weeks without the morning sickness before you noticed the thing that was going to be your undoing.

You had been pulling on your jeans, getting ready for the day’s patrol- one of the longer routes and you’d be accompanied by both Joel and Tommy- only when it got to buttoning them, you couldn’t. You’d noticed them getting a little tight, but had hoped that you’d have more time. Luck had never been on your side however, so as you struggled with the button you could feel your heart in your throat as your panic started to take ahold of you.

After several minutes you gave up, knowing your struggle was going to stay fruitless. Looking around your room for a solution, you paused on your spare pair of boots. As quickly as possible you dethreaded both sets of shoelaces and slipped them through your jean’s belt loops as many times as possible before tying the sides together and zipping the jeans closed as much as you could.

After shoving your boots that still had their laces on, you raced downstairs and rushed out an apology as you slipped your coat on, the weather still holding its chill.

“Sorry I couldn’t find my warm sweater. Let’s go before Tommy starts complaining about us holding him up.”

Joel just shook his head with a fond smile, holding your bag out for you to take as you passed to leave the house.

The walk to the front gate was quiet, the morning sun just gracing the horizon as you rubbed your hands together and slipped them into your pockets for your gloves which you hurriedly pulled on. Like you had predicted, once you reached the gate, Tommy stood next to his horse with his arms crossed and he spoke up as you and Joel approached, “What took you both so long? Coulda slept in in my nice warm bed if I’d known you’d be late.”

You rolled your eyes as Joel helped you up onto your horse and he replied, “Someone couldn’t find their warm sweater even though it was hanging right there in the closet.”

Gasping, you nudged Joel’s shoulder with the toe of your boot as he walked away, grumbling, “Just throw me under the bus why don’t you. See if I agree to go on anymore patrols with you two.”

Tommy laughs as he swings onto his own horse before leading the three of you out of Jackson and out towards your path for the day.

The three of you travel in silence for a little bit, you yourself enjoying listening to the early morning bird songs. Once you all get to the first sign-in point, you all take the chance for a pause and a stretch. You walk around the converted home, stopping to look through the bay window in one of the upstairs bedrooms. The room was clearly a kid’s room, the walls painted with fields and a barn and farmhouse surrounded by houses, cattle, chickens, and bison. The bed one of those that grew with a kid, going from cradle to toddler bed. Toys and stuffies long forgotten and scattered around the room. You leaned down and picked one up, a weathered build-a-bear wearing a pair of faux denim overalls and a red handkerchief. Gently you wiped the dirt and dust off the eyes, letting the black plastic shine once again.

Without realizing it, one of your hands drifted down to lay on your lower abdomen as you swallowed heavily and your eyes start to water. But you don’t get too far, as a soft knock on the door behind you brings you back. Turning, you find Joel looking over you, eyes slightly worried as he holds out a small pack of dried fruit. You give him a small smile and set the bear down on the bed before grabbing the food, noticing the hand on your stomach, quickly laughing and patting the hand there saying, “You must have heard my stomach growl downstairs.”

Taking your lead Joel gave you a grin replying, “Thought there was a runner up here from all the noise it was making.”

You huffed a laugh, kissing Joel’s cheek as you walked back downstairs and let out a sigh of thanks to whoever let you get away that easily with such a terrible lie. But you didn’t dwell on it, the three of you hopping onto your horses and setting out on the trail once more.

As you went this time, Joel and Tommy passed the time with conversation. You though just listened to them, eating the fruit Joel had given you and occasionally adding little input when prompted.

Tommy made mention that the meat stores were running a little low and he’d been asked to try and catch a deer if he could. That led the two down a conversation over how the food stores as a whole were doing and if there needed to be any supply runs anytime soon. You however zoned out at this knowing they would probably get wrapped up in the conversation. Instead you looked around as you rode, both to keep an eye out for anything and to keep your mind busy. Not that it worked as your mind drifted.

You were starting to show and while it wasn’t too noticeable right now, it would only be a matter of time before nothing fit and you’d be forced to tell Joel, or he’d figure it all out himself. At this point you're worried over his anger at being left in the dark over this for so long as well, adding to the number of worries you already held. The doctor had told you on your last check up that all your stress and worrying was causing your blood pressure to raise and that worried him. He had urged you to take a break, to try and relax but you couldn’t, not when relaxing meant your thoughts would be given more time to circle and bring you more stress and worry. You just wished all of this would disappear, that everything was fine and you only had to worry about the usual things like hunters and infected. You hated yourself for it, because you had truly not wanted it, but in the beginning you had hoped and prayed that something would happen, that this would go away and you wouldn’t have to tell Joel. But here you are and you should have known that this child being part Joel meant it wasn’t going to give up, that it was going to be there no matter how hard they had to fight, and fuck did you already love the little devil, but the worry it brought left you breaking apart.

Hearing your name shouted pulled you from your thoughts. Jerking your head you met Joel’s worried and confused look as he said, “Come on, Tommy is gonna go start a fire for us all to warm up an’ I spotted some deer tracks so you an’ me are gonna go see if we can find anything…..you good?”

Looking around, you noticed the three of you had reached the next sign in spot on the patrol route while you had been lost in your thoughts. Turning back to Joel you nodded before sliding from your horse and tying her up.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just got a little lost in thought. Sorry.”

Joel just nodded slowly, his worried look not leaving, before he nodded his head to the right, saying, “The tracks lead this way.”

You nod, and grab your rifle from your shoulder, and start to follow after him, watching the tracks as the two of you go. It didn’t take long to catch up to the deer, the pretty female gazing on an open patch of grass only a fifteen minute or so walk from where you both had left Tommy and the horses. Quietly, both you and Joel looked through your scopes that the deer as she slowly stepped and ate at the patch of grass. You had had a clear shot, and were about to take it, knowing Joel’s own was blocked by a thin tree in front of him, but you paused when you saw movement next to her and that’s when you saw the small fauntling clinging close to its mother’s legs.

For some reason all of your worries came to a head as you saw the two together, and your hands shook as you put your rifle down. Joel turned to you confused as he had yet to notice the baby, so you just turned to him and shook your head and pressed your fingers to your lips before pointing to the deer and cradling your arms, signing to him that she had a baby with her. Joel took another quick look and sighed, putting his rifle down as well when he finally saw the fawn.

The two of you started back to Tommy to tell him that the prints had been a dead end, but halfway back you couldn’t help but pause, and say, “Do you ever feel jealous of them?”

Confused, Joel turned to look at you where you stood and shook his head as he said, “What?”

You sigh and refuse to meet his eyes as you motion back to where the deer were, clearing your throat.

“The animals. Do you ever get jealous over how they aren’t chased after like we are, how they can’t turn into monsters that become murderous and hunt down the rest of their species? They just have to worry about running fast enough away from those of us that are living so they don’t become some terribly seasoned stew.”

Joel takes a step towards you, reaching a hand out to cup your shoulder, and says your name, “Where is this coming from? Does this have to do with what’s had you so stressed lately?”

You opened your mouth to reply, to brush it all away and just say nevermind, that it didn’t matter it was only a thought, but you met Joel’s eyes, the hazel swirling with concern and his voice laced with the need to help. In that moment every reply is lost to your tongue and your eyes swell with tears as you utter the words you’d been so terrified to share.

“Joel, I’m pregnant.”

The seconds ticked like hours as you realized you finally let the truth slip. As you watched the emotions filter over Joel’s face. Surprise, confusion, worry….wonder. His eyes danced around your figure as a single tear finally slipped.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded choppily and you gave him a timid smile.

“Yeah…turns out you were right months ago, it was never the flu,” you paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, “I…. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I-I just didn’t know how and my head kept fueling all these ‘what ifs’ around my thoughts and I just didn’t know how to handle it but god I should have told you and I am sorry.”

Gently, Joel cupped your face and wiped away the tears that had fallen as you apologized. He looked at you like you had just whispered to him the secret cure to the infection, one that didn’t involve Ellie.

Joel’s eyes bounced between your own as he asked, “How far….how far along are you?”

“Almost three and a half months,” you reply, your stress slowly fading to the background and slipping away.

Joel, as if he could see all of your doubts over the last three months, looks you right in the eye as he says, “You don’t have to worry anymore. Nothing will happen to either of you, not under my watch.”

Have an idea or headcannon you want written for Joel? My askbox is open! Feel free to send it to me! Thanks for reading and check out my other Joel fics! <3

Masterlist

#joel x reader #joel miller x reader

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stxrrynxghts · 6 months

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Have been reading your analyses since I've returned to Tumblr. Please make one of the Draupadi that we see in pop culture and the canon Draupadi, if you haven't already. Thank You so much :)

Okay! So, here I go!

So, Draupadi in pop culture is mostly two things, the shows, and the books. Let me start off with the books. I am taking three main books as base:

Karna's wife- The outcast queen: This book is based on some fictional girl named Uruvi, who is the Princess of Pukhya (ig?). She and Karna are the typical Wattpad OCs here. Draupadi here happens to be the female Arjun in Karna related stories, someone who is "jealous" of Uruvi. Uruvi happened to be involved with Arjun, beforehand, idk, am not much aware about this book. Uruvi seems to believe that the disrobing of Draupadi is a private moment b/w Karna and Drau, and that Drau is in love with him. Ugh.

Arjun-Without a doubt: DK much about this one, but apparently, Draupadi is jealous of fucking GANDIVA of all things. Oh, pls, do u srsly think that she has that to be jealous of? If I were this book's Draupadi, then I would be jealous of Nakul, for his insanely good looks-

Palace of Illusions: again, IDK much, but IK this much, that this book as well, loves to show the DrauKarn agenda. Plz. Draupadi does not need to be in love with the man who wanted her disrobed.

My conclusion, with these 3 main books, is that these authors love to degrade a perfectly fine female character. Pop culture Draupadi has ruined her image. Close your eyes and think about Draupadi, and think what you get in mind. Is she angry/short tempered? Is she always raving about her revenge? Is she being blood-thirsty? Is she being well...self righteous? Is she being jealous of her co-wives? If yes, then that is NOT her. That is a shadow, an insult. And trust me, these pop culture influences ruin your image of her to the extent that you CANNOT differentiate at all b/w the real her and the fake her.

Now, part 2, is Draupadi in the shows. *Rubs hands* now, if you like any shows, I shall tell u, this is gonna be BRUTAL. No hate is meant to any actress who has played Draupadi.

BR Chopra's Mahabharat: The first mainstream adaptation of Mahabharata on screen. In my opinion, their portrayal of Draupadi WAS , IS and WILL BE....in the finest of words, shitty. She says the word "andhe ka putra andha", she refuses to marry Karna as he is a sutaputra (We will get on that soon), and she raves about "mere kesh", and is clearly bloodthirsty. Draupadi is not even mildly disgusted or shaken by the fact that her hair is drenched in someone's blood, and it makes her come off as inhumane, arrogant and selfish. Draupadi did have a heart, and canonically, was moved by the destruction of the whole Kuru dynasty. Roopa Ganguly could have been a fantastic Drau, IF, the directors did not do this. Her friendship with Krishna receives a plus point, as does the scene which SHOWS that she is in her periods during the game of dice.

Dharmakshetra: Draupadi here is just straight up...bitchy? She is being blamed by both Kunti and Gandhari for "causing the war". Oh pls, if someone should be blamed, it is your SONS. She was the victim there. But then, honestly, this Draupadi deserves it. She roasts Arjun for not loving her, but then does the EXACT same thing with her other husbands. She roasts Yudi for "loving his brother's wife". Plz, shut your mouth bae.

Kahaani Hamaaray Mahaabharaat Ki: Yup, this was the OG spelling. They have Anita Hassandani as Draupadi, and she is....well, acting like she is a part of some random nukkad naatak. I watched one episode, and that was enough for me. If you want your sanity intact, then don't watch it.

Draupadi: This show has quite the pretty Draupadi, but here, the other Pandavas are literally getting horny over Draupadi. They show her "wedding night" with each one of them, and Arjun actually says that he was jealous of the fact that Bhima got to sleep with her. And I am jealous that you get to rest your head on Krishna's shoulder and sob, Arjun, but do you see me complaining?

Suryaputra Karna: Draupadi is fucking weird here. The scenes are copied from StarBharat, clearly, and well ah. What do I say? This show is clearly not watchable for man kind.

RadhaKrishn: eh. Copied again, from StarBharat, and they showed the andhe ka putra andha wala thing, and my feelings are terribly hurt. *sigh* if I could get this director to gamble off the whole Production House to me, then the world would have been a different place.

will need full blown two reblogs, one for the canon, and one for StarBharat to cover this-

#mahabharat #mahabharata #hindu mythology #draupadi

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happysaddca · 19 days

Text

I'm gonna pretend this isn't as good cause I am feeling off today and not because I crammed like four different ideas into two scenes here and didn't flesh anything out as much as I would like normally.

There is some very, very mild suggestive flirting that goes nowhere.

I think I've got things worked out for Constellations Redeux now so drabbles like this will slow down in favor or working out other AUs/the actual story. But I'm still gonna need a beta reader :')

Oh, and your nickname from Sun is introduced here, so we're 3/4 on DCA nicknames. I'm not sure if it's noticeable, but I personally struggle if a fic overuses nicknames or explicitly says y/n or reader. So I avoid that as much as possible lol.

You barely make it three days before start worrying that Sun is angry with you. Moon’s reassurances can only work so long, especially since you have to work and sleep and sometimes even go home so your roommate knows you’ve not died and been turned into pizza. And with Sun and Moon back, your usual coping mechanisms only go so far. Still, you’re able to keep the seed from taking root for nearly two weeks.

“How are they adjusting to being online again?” You’d been sent to fetch more flour from the main kitchen, where Anika is currently fussing with the pizza ovens. You’re avoiding going back upstairs, sneaking pepperoni slices every time her back is turned.

“Okay as can be expected. Moon is still fronting every time I see them, even when it’s bright out.” Your mouth twitches and you rub at it absently, massaging the scars out of habit. “They haven’t Eclipsed at all since the restart, and Moon is mostly avoiding people. I think he’s nervous.” You pop a pepperoni in your mouth as Anika turns around.

“Dude, don’t eat the product!” She rolls her eyes at you, going to wash her hands. “Between you and the other gremlins I work with, it’s amazing we have any food at all.”

“You love us,” you say sing-song, but you pull away from the food, trailing after Anika. She turns and flicks you with water for your trouble. “Hey! You know I’m a witch. I’m gonna melt now and what are you gonna tell the Attendants?”

“That I defeated the evil that eats all my pepperoni.” Another flick of water, and you give an overdramatic hiss, moving to hide behind Anika instead.

“Cruelty, abuse, harassment. I should call HR on you now.”

“Nah, I’ve got too much blackmail on you.” She shakes her hands dry and turns to lean against the sink and look you over. “You look less like a witch and more like a ghost. When’s the last time you’ve gone outside?”

“A couple days ago?” You are used to being stared at, but Anika has this uncanny way of making you feel like she’s not just looking, she’s peeling back the layers, clothes from skin, skin from fat, fat from muscle. Looking for something, something you decidedly don’t have. “I’ve been using the employee showers. Shockingly okay if you give them a good scrub first.”

Her nose wrinkles anyway. “You know you have to go outside at some point. Your Sun and Moon won’t like you neglecting yourself for their sake. Neither will our Attendant for that matter.”

“I haven’t even seen Sunny lately,” you complain, and a muscle twitches in your cheek. “I haven’t seen either Sun. What if they’re both—”

“Stop.” You open your mouth, but Anika holds her hand up. “Stop. I know this mental trainwreck far too well. Stop whatever oh they actually hate me mind game you’re playing and go talk to them.”

“But the daycare is still open,” you protest weakly. Anika gives you a look. “I have to work?”

“Then why are you down here eating all my pepperoni?”

“Because you’re my friend and I was supposed to be getting flour,” you say slowly. “And friends let you avoid work to talk about relationship stuff?”

Anika rolls her eyes, walking around you and grabbing the massive bag of flour, shoving it in your arms with a grunt. “As your friend, I’m telling you not to let this fester. Talk to your Moon and Sun, and go see Sunny after work. And tomorrow, get the fuck out of this building. Sleep in an actual bed for eight hours and get some vitamin D.”

You nod slowly, resisting the urge to pout, physically biting it back. “Okay. I will.” You pause before nodding again. “I will. Thank you Anika.”

“You’re welcome. Now shoo. I have to test the oven and if it blows up I’d like to limit the casualties.”

You do return to work, but it’s hard to concentrate when you want to skip the rest of your shift and find Moon. You text them, a quick reminder when you’re off, and proceed to overbeat your icing. You have to dump the ruined buttercream, starting over. It’s only a couple hours, but your attention is splintering fast, and by the time you can clock out, you’re itching to go.

“See you Alex! Sorry about dropping the fondant!” You get some mumble for a reply that’s completely missed as you open the back door and step out, directly into a hard exoskeleton and metal arms that catch you and wrap you in a hug. “Oh!”

“Hello to you as well. Where are you going in such a hurry?” Moon sounds amused even as it pulls you out of sight. “Did you have an appointment to get to?”

“I wanted to see you.” The unpleasant twinge in your stomach isn’t from getting dragged along. You reach up to flick the bell on Moon’s nightcap. “And Sun too, if they’re…”

“She’s still resting.” Moon’s tone is apologetic even as you both stop near the back wall, out of sight of any but the nosiest of plex patrons. It cups your scarred cheek, leaning down for a kiss. “Starlight, you’re crying again.” A finger curls under your eye, catching a tear.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to.” You try to wipe your eyes clear, but it just happens again as you chew on the inside of your cheek. “Can’t Sun come out, for just a little? I’ve not seen her since you were eclipsed. I know she’s there; the diagnostics are all fine and you wouldn’t lie b-but…” Shoot, now you were really starting to cry, and you tried to hide it, ducking your chin and covering your face with your hands. Moon’s fans have started alongside a click click clicking noise as it holds its hands out, servos popping. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Moon. I know it’s been a lot for you two, but I miss… I miss both of you.”

“Star,” Moon’s voice peters out as you can’t seem to slow your tears, or your words.

“I’ve not seen Sunny from the daycare either, and I know it’s because I’ve been spending so much time with you — and that’s not complaining! If I didn’t have to work, I’d always be with you. But it feels like both Suns are avoiding me now and I get it’s dumb but… does Sun hate me?”

Moon’s hands settle on your shoulders featherlight, pulling you into a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” it says, and a shiver goes through its frame. You pull back in time to nearly get poked in your good eye with one of Sun’s rays. You stare blankly, voice gone as Sun straightens, one hand checking everything was in place before turning that blank, unmoving smile on you.

“Sun?” you say in a small voice, and she nods, something clicking inside her headcase. You’re immediately reaching out, ignoring the sharp edges of the rays, feeling for any irregularities you’d missed before with Moon. “What’s wrong? Can’t you speak?”

“I’ve missed you.” She speaks so softly you nearly miss it. “I’m sorry Sunflower. I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.”

“Sun!” You hold her tightly, her rays digging into your arms before she can retract them. Their hands flutter over you before settling lightly on your back, barely touching you. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t. But we’ve been so worried about you.” You squeeze her more tightly to make up for the lack of a hug on Sun’s end. “Let me look at you. I want to see…”

You pull back, hands sliding down Sun’s arms, curling into their sleeves just above their wrists. Sun watches you, but she holds still, rays remaining half retracted, an impression left from you. You have to wipe at your eyes again, realizing you’re still freely crying. “It looks like you took over easily enough. We don’t have the fiber optics in your clothes hooked up yet but—”

“Flower,” Sun says softly, and you quiet down, blinking hard. Sun’s hands shift, longer fingers tracing patterns on your inner forearms. “How can you tell anything when we look like this?”

“Huh?” The confusion snaps you out of the lingering fog of upset. “Sun, it’s still you.” You reach forward, noticing Sun’s flinch before she holds still, letting you press your hand against one of the stuck rays. It pops out, nearly cutting your hand. “I know this isn’t ideal but… it’s. It’s still you in there.” You repeat the process twice more, until Sun is able to test them, ticking them in and out in a wave without them getting stuck. “We should oil those so when you come out they won’t get stuck like that.”

“Flower.”

You attempt a smile, playing with one of Sun’s rays, making it spring back and forth until Sun withdraws it completely. “I told you, your rays have always been your giveaway. We got to take care of them so they can keep giving you away.” Your giggle is a little manic, but a big hand covers your mouth and part of your jaw. You stare at Sun blankly, biting the inside of your cheek again.

“How are you sure it’s us?” Sun asks again, her voice soft, nearly devoid of emotion. Her rays are half withdrawn, and you can tell they’re avoiding looking at your face. At least until you lick her palm. She jerks back in shock, staring at their hand, then you. “Sunflower, why! You don’t know what Moon’s been up to or the last time we washed our hands. You’ll get sick!”

You smile and this time your laugh is far more genuine. You wipe at your mouth. “I’ll brush my teeth in a minute. How am I supposed to answer your questions when you won’t let me speak?”

The rays pull back further in her head, and Sun looks away, wiping their palm clean on their pants. Your smile fades, and you lean forward, touching their knee.

“I was worried we might’ve picked up the wrong chips,” you admit softly, scooting forward, wanting to touch as much of Sun as possible. “Anika had grabbed a bunch of different parts for Gemma to scan, but we were scared of waking you too early and giving you false hope. So there was this chance that something could go wrong. Gemma knew the spare body was safe enough but it wasn’t until you both came online that I really knew it was you and Moon. My Sun and Moon.”

“But how? Other than our software, none of this is us.” Sun gestures vaguely at herself. “The clothes are close now, but we’re smaller, our faceplate is wrong and empty, our programming doesn’t map properly across these new actuators and servos.”

“It feels bad, doesn’t it?” You aren’t able to properly smile, but you try anyway, lifting Sun’s faceplate to meet her eyes. This close, you can see the barest amount of light denoting where she’s looking. It’s not at you, but it’s close enough. “I’ve gone through the same thing. After the accident,” you ignore her flinch, “I had so many surgeries. Some of this skin on my face is from my thigh, you know. And some isn’t even from me.” You reluctantly touch the worst of your scars, the one that cuts over your eye. “I have metal pins in my arms and legs. Even my brain got damaged. I still don’t really know all the changes to my personality yet — hey, don’t look like that. This isn’t your or Moon’s fault.” You grab her face with both of your hands, squeezing it tightly, shaking her very gently. “Neither of you are allowed to blame yourself, okay? I’ll come in there if you do.”

There’s a bubble of laughter from Sun, a hand catching and holding yours while her rays slowly extend. “And how will you manage that Flower?”

The laughter is infectious, and you giggle despite yourself. “I know you’ve not been fronting much, but I’ve made friends with some super smart people. We’ll upload my brain on the mainframe and inject it into your headspace so I can give you and Moon a proper chewing out. So unless you want to be stuck with me for all of eternity, you’ll get the idea this is your fault out of your mind.”

“How horrible would be to be trapped with you for all of eternity.” She pulls your hand over to her mouth, teeth pressing lightly against your palm. When you curl your fingers, tracing the length of their nose, her rays tick back and forth once again, fans whirring deep in her chest.

“A nightmare even Moon won’t be able to save you from.” You take advantage of the moment, moving to crawl into Sun’s lap, back against her chest. If you lean back, you can watch her rays shift back and forth. Her arms settle slowly around you, still barely holding you. You have to tighten her arms around you yourself. “I know it’s a lot right now Sun, but Gemma is going to help make it easier. New pieces for your exoskeleton, better silicone. She’s currently working with another technician to recreate your old face. Anika’s other scavenged pieces are helping create some new code so you will control this endoskeleton more easily. It’ll be new, and it won’t quite be the same as before, but you’ll be in control of your body again. You’ll look like you again.”

“You’re saying we will be like you? But there won’t be scars.” You shiver as Sun pulls her hands from yours, touching over your arm, pushing your sleeve out of the way. “We’ll look like our old selves.”

“You can ask if you want to see,” you say, pulling Sun’s hand free. “Between the two of you I’m not sure if you’re trying to satisfy some morbid curiosity or get into my clothes.”

“Sunflower.” She sounds scandalized, but there’s no true attempt at denial.

“Besides, I think there will be scars. Maybe not as visible as mine, but… this isn’t easy.”

“No.” It comes out like a sigh, and for the first time Sun hugs you tightly. “I don’t like feeling so lost Flower. We’ve lost everything.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Her daycare, her body, the children she’d basically helped raise. They were all gone.

“But you have Moon again.”

Quiet except for the sounds of Sun working away inside, the pitch of her insides indicating a second opinion from Moon itself. “I do,” she finally says, her face dipping into your hair. “And we have you.”

“And you have me,” you agree. You sigh, the sound dragging out all the tension from your shoulders and back. You ragdoll against Sun, and they hold you tightly, concerned until you give a smile. “We’ll figure it out. I promise Sun.”

Sun is quiet, and when you look up, her rays are withdrawn again. They look away when they catch you staring, hands dropping away.

“Sun,” you try again. “It’s all right if you don’t feel better.”

“You can read me, even like this.” Sun’s chuckle is sad. “I don’t hate you. But I hate this. I hate being this.” Her hand lifts and drops again. “Moon is handling it a little better. That’s why it has been center stage.”

“I understand,” you say. There’s a pang of pain deep in your heart and you gather her arms around you again. “If Moon is comfortable being in control, then… then I understand. But please don’t hide away all the time. I know, I know you don’t hate me but it can still be hard. Is that too much to ask for?”

You can hear and feel Sun shift, rays extending as her neck cricks to one side, thinking. “I think it’s all right,” they say finally. “I think Moon will appreciate the break too.”

“Have you two been all right?” you ask, leaning your head back once again to watch Sun’s rays. She nods and then gives a little, uncertain shrug.

“We have been talking. It’s so good for Moon to be itself again, but there’s still pain. And distance.” Sun’s voice flattens and cuts off before the end of their sentence, making her rays pop in and out in surprise. “Oh. That’s new.”

“I think Moon disagrees with you.” You move slowly, pushing Sun’s legs wide so you can kneel between them and open your arms. Sun stares, rays still clicking in and out as a circle. “Come here.”

“I’ll stab you with my rays. They aren’t flexible like my old ones.”

“Don’t care.” You wiggle your fingers at her. “Come here.” Sun does eventually move into your arms, rays withdrawing so you can rest your chin on top of her faceplate. You squeeze her tightly again as her arms wind around your middle carefully. “You’re not going to break me,” you promise. “Everything’s all healed up now, even the brain stuff.”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” Sun’s voice is muffled in your shoulder.

“I’m hilarious. I learned from the best after all.” There’s a little giggle. “I’ve been working on my gymnastics too,” you add. “I can almost do a back flip.”

“Oh really?” She sounds bemused. “You’ll have to show us sometime.”

“You’ll need to hold my legs.” That got a proper snort, Moon and Sun overlapping.

“I love you Sun,” you say softly. Sun’s arms slide further up, gripping the back of your shirt. “I’ll miss you. You should try texting me back sometime. Just to say how you’re doing.” Her grip tightens. “And I’ll try to say sooner if my thoughts start spiraling out of control again.”

“Okay.”

“Mm?”

Sun straightens, and you have to lean away to avoid knocking against her head. “I’ll text. If you promise to take care of yourself.”

Ah. You feel your face go hot and it’s your turn to look away. “I’m fine, really! I just sort of spiraled with that one thought and we’re working on it now!”

“You’re pale and you haven’t been sleeping well.” Sun’s fingers trap your chin and force you to look up. “Have you eaten any fruit or vegetables recently?” You grimace, and their thumb taps over your lips. “Have you been outside the pizzaplex at all this past week?”

“You’re a bully,” you complain, unable to escape. “I wanted to stay with you and Moon.”

Sun’s hand slips from your chin to your apron pocket. You make a very undignified sound until she fishes out your phone, holding it up. “You will be with us. In our own head, in a way.”

“Right.” Your lockscreen is an old picture of you and Sun, clearly taken by the animatronic. You take your phone back, holding it to your chest. “You won’t be able to escape me so long as I have this.”

“How terrible,” Sun’s smile is in his voice.

“The worst,” you agree.

#fnaf daycare au #fnaf daycare attendant #daycare attendant #daycare attendant moon #daycare attendant sun #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #daycare attendant fandom #fnaf dca #sundrop #moondrop #seriously how many tags are there in the world that focus on the dca #constellations au #dca ocs #my writing #I'll be backtagging my writing soon

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thewigsnatcher764 · 12 days

Text

--A TRASH BEAST ANALYSIS--

{-BY THE SNATCHER-}

°~INTROOO~°

Okk sooo remember when I did a post Chapter 94 and went on a little rant about how trash beast could operate? Well, In this post I'll take that idea and expand on it more. I'll also be adding more ideas...! (This post is mostly speculation and pondering but I hope you still enjoy my mess of ideas!!)

/×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×/

ALRIGHT, SO THERE ARE THREE MAIN IDEAS I WANT TO EXPAND ON HERE:

— Contaminated/Polluted areas and how that could affect the trash beast's forms and characteristics.

— The different types of negativity that supplement the creatures and how that can possibly modify their traits.

— The plausible reasons as to why trash monsters are so aggressive and violent towards humans.

LET'S GOOOOO!!

//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//

°~HOW CONTAMINATED AREAS AFFECT TRASH BEASTS~°

We all remember the first few chapters right? Rudo landed in the intensely polluted area, so unbreathable you had to put on a full-face gas mask just to not choke.

When we first see thrash beasts, THEY'RE FUCKING GINORMOUS. BIG, SCARY AND VIOLENT. The walking definition of a monster. They attacked on sight and don't give up on their targets easily.

At this point in the story, we simply assume that all trash beasts act this way. We haven't learned of the different levels of contamination so we just go along with it.

UNTIL... WE GET TO THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER.

All of a sudden, trash beasts are smaller, slimmer, faster and... Animals!?! The beasts are suddenly mimicking real-life species. In this case, their cheetahs (I think...)and act exactly like them.

But what makes this interesting is that we're not in the intensely polluted zone anymore! We're in the semi- contaminated zone, an area where you only need to put a normal face mask.

This insinuates the fact that a trash beast's physical power is altered depending on the level of contamination in it's area.

-So the power level should look something like this-

INTENSELY CONTAMINATED: These are the most powerful creatures we've seen so far. They're humongous creatures that hunt alone or in small packs possessing monster-like physique and power.

SEMI-CONTAMINATED: Animal-like creatures that hunt in extremely large packs possessing characteristics of real-life animals. (But It could be possible that there are monster-like trash beasts in the semi-area that are simply smaller)

NON-CONTAMINATED: Given the lack of pollution, this is the only area that has actual animals like cats, rats, horses, etc. Though it might be possible that there are miniature trash beasts(Though I doubt that fact...)

✨MINI TANGENT✨ I did research on this and apparently, cheetahs will only hunt in groups if they're in a coalition to attack larger or more dangerous prey. This suggests that trash beasts (or at least the semi-contaminated ones) View humans as dangerous. Because if they viewed them as simple prey, the cheetahs wouldn't bother creating a coalition since they only bother with that if the prey is big and dangerous. (Normally cheetahs are solitary hunters) So why do they view humans as dangerous? ✨ END OF TANGEANT✨

//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//

°~DIFFERENT TYPES OF NEGATIVITY (ANIMA) AND HOW THAT AFFECTS THE MONSTERS~°

In the early chapters of Gachiakuta, Enjin explains to Rudo how trash beasts are made:

" Here on the ground, trash accumulates quickly...And so do feelings and emotions...Anima. Sometimes, that gets converted into energy which causes a variety of unusual phenomena. One of these is the birth of trash beasts. They always attack humans on sight. Generally, they live in the garbage dump outside of town... but every so often they'll invade the cities."- Enjin

I'm not gonna put the whole thing since some of it doesn't connect to what I'm saying. Essentially, negative Anima fuels trash beasts and positive Anima fuels Vital instruments(Jinkis).

But could the percentage of the types of negative feelings in the converted Anima affect the trash beasts physically?

What I mean by this is for example: the percentage of negative emotions in a polluted area is 50% sadness, 40% anger and 10% fear. When they get converted to Anima, instead of the beasts resembling a ferocious monster. Do you guys think it could look more... sad? Its roars would sound more like cries, more sluggish movements, you guys see the vision?

The main emotion making up the Anima could be reflected in the monster's demeanour.

Now if my theory is right, why haven't we seen trash beasts with a more melancholic or scared demeanour? Well, it's simple: trash beasts reflect the population's feelings, right? The story has made clear that the people of the underground are angry: They're mad at what they have been reduced to because of the ones living above them. So obviously all that anger is concentrated on the MAX which affects the monster's power.

AND FINALLY...

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°~THE PLAUSIBLE REASONS AS TO WHY TRASH BEASTS TARGET HUMANS~°

Ok so for this part of the essay, I'm really pulling stuff out of my ass😭😭. I wouldn't be surprised if I was wrong on all of these but it's fun to make! I'm theorizing there are two reasons why trash beasts are targeting humans: for energy or due to the projecting of the citizens of the city.

-HOW CAN HUMANS FEED TRASH MONSTERS, WELL I HAVE TWO IDEAS-

- FOR ENERGY: All humans possess some amount of negativity in them. Whether or not they are a good person, it wouldn't be surprising if they hunt them for energy purposes. After all, animals hunt for sustenance, right?

- PROJECTION: Remember when I explained that trash beasts could be reflecting the population's anger? We all know that the majority of that anger is towards the people on top. Whether it's internalized or forward, anger is anger. You can imagine that a lot would wanna cause pain to them...So what if those violent thoughts get turned into Anima which powers up the beasts? Given that Anima is something that was converted, some of the specifics of that anger might have sorta got lost in translation. So when a trash monster sees a human, they won't be able to differentiate between the underground and the people on top.

All the creature really knows is that the anger is towards humans, and so they attack.

//×/——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——//×//——/×//

°~OUTROOOO~°

AAAAAAHHHHHH THIS WAS SO FUCKING LOOOONNGGG. I hope you guys enjoyed my overthinking brain!

See you in the next one!

💕💕💕💕💕

#gachiakuta #gachiakuta theories #the snatcher's rants

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felizusnavidad · 2 months

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maybe there's more context but i noticed a lot of the time, public criticism for projects lands really heavily on lmm's shoulders. the reason why i'm saying this is because i binged his projects and its reception. apparently, when in the heights 2021 came out, there was a lot of discourse about the lack of afro-latino representation in the movie: this itself is completely justifiable and good. we shouldn't be scared to critique and start conversations about media. but i was a bit confused because all of the blame was put on lin and not the director? maybe you can provide more context here: i know he's the show's original creator and is famous, so he's reasonably gonna get more scrutiny; and he did have a role as a producer, but he talked about how they tried to take out the piragua guy, etc. so i assumed he didn't have full control, and usually, the director is the main focus, no?

and of course that period where people hated the song in the little mermaid and the movie being eh was his fault, and even the bad songs in wish somehow being his fault (despite him not being part of that lmao). i'm an international fan that recently listened to in the heights and was really impressed, so i wasn't aware of all of this.

and then the projects of his that were well received seem to have this begrudging energy. people liking tick tick boom (which he directed) but heaping the praise on andrew garfield (who deserves it!!) and not any for lin? like wtf i thought y'all love to make him the sole focus of critique.

these are just my impressions based on some heavy online surfing, and i wanted to ask your opinion!

i actually agree with everything you said here, anon.

let's start with in the heights (2021). i don't know if you're one of my mutuals, but if you are, you probably know already that i am not afraid of criticizing the movie. maybe not because of the lack of representation (i am a white woman so i feel like it's not my place to say anything about this but i totally understand why others can feel excluded), i have other issues with it tho. but, as far as i can tell, lin was not responsible for the casting & yet he was the one who apologized. so they basically said they were talking about casting afro-latinos but they ended up with actors who were just perfect for the roles in their opinion (also, leslie grace, the actress who plays nina, is, in fact, afro-latina). & yes, they were trying to get rid of piragua guy, mostly because they couldn't find anyone who could play him & they asked lin if he could do it (he wasn't supposed to be in the movie AT ALL & he only agreed cause he wanted to save piragua guy). so yes, they put all the blame on lin but those were not exactly his choices. also, speaking of lack of representation, did we already forget about what he did for people of color on broadway? cause i saw so many people calling him racist & it's just... are you sure we are talking about the same guy?

about the scuttlebutt, i have so many things to say. well, first of all, lin was only responsible for like, three songs in the little mermaid? wild uncharted waters & for the first time? damn, those songs are really good & i know most people agree. but there's also the scuttlebutt. so the hate comes mostly from people who hate awkwafina & her voice in general, they find it annoying. well, guess what: this song was supposed to be annoying. maybe it's hard to say when you just listen to it without any context, but damn, just watch the movie & then it makes a lot of sense. second of all: the main audience? kids. & as far as i can tell, the kids absolutely loved it. not every song has to be a masterpiece, some songs are JUST FOR FUN, let's not forget about that. i know a lot of people also complain because it's rap, well guess what, this is lmm we are talking about so what did you expect? it's just his thing, it doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea, but damn, it's not gonna change just because some people don't like it, deal with it.

speaking of tick tick boom, i absolutely loved the movie & i agree, andrew garfield was incredible, but yes, i haven't seen anyone talking about lin, like??? he literally directed it. i saw one comment on polish website tho that goes like "lin manuel miranda, keep this name in mind cause he's gonna be huge one day" & i was like oh boy, i have news for you... (i'm sorry i hate my country so fucking much).

i'm not even gonna say anything about disney's wish because there's no point. he had nothing to do with it, absolutely nothing, & people still blame him... this is just ridiculous. come on.

i saw a twitter thread some time ago where someone was trying to prove that lin is a bad person in general & honestly, spending so much time online just to prove that someone is problematic is insane to me. go touch some fucking grass instead of being a hater.

honestly, i wish i knew why people hate him so much, yes, i know he is not perfect & he made some mistakes in the past (he even apologized for some of them) but there are so many celebrities who are much more problematic & yet they will hate on lin & try to paint him as evil. i will never understand this.

#sorry i didn't mean to write the entire essay lol #but here we are #also i apologize if it's too chaotic #i obviously don't know everything & i have my own opinions but you know #i feel like people really hate him just for fun #which is no fun for me #lin manuel miranda #lmm #anon #i saved every letter you wrote me*

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dailycass-cain · 1 year

Text

So a few weeks ago I hit over 5,000 followers on Twitter. As promised, tonight I look into the history Cass has with Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon. By doing so I'll answer the question: is Cass more of a Gordon or a Wayne?

To fully answer this question we've got to start all the way to the beginning with "No Man's Land" the Batman event that introduced Cassandra into the Batman world. Though originally in the comics Cass didn't show up until midway into the event. The novel by Greg Rucka however-

--Cass is shown in the story early on. The move plants the seeds of the bonds the two will share for quite a long time. Here's the section involving Cass from the audio drama based on the novel.

More so, it has to be understood that the novel is the first time Cass is called by her name, and it is Barbara who gives her it. As the comics only called her Batgirl or an agent of Babs at the time.

This bit is retconned later in Batgirl Vol. 1 with the name business being more associated with Cass making the connection that she and Lady Shiva share a similar first name and--

-- in Batman & Robin Eternal where David Cain is the one to give Cass her name.

You could theorize the reason this was taken away was to further separate Cass from Babs (and we'll get to that portion) and balance the Shiva as Cass' mother revelation.

It should also be noted, Babs watches through NML and then realizes that someone has taken up the Batgirl mantle (Helena Bertinelli) and Bruce is okay with it. This sets off Babs as it wasn't given her approval.

When Helena makes three mistakes, she's sacked as Batgirl. This is where Bruce enters our picture with Cass. It's this fallout that causes Two-Face to further try and heighten his power in NML by taking out Jim Gordon.

Leading to him hiring assassin David Cain and Cass being caught in the crosshairs as she saves the father of her guardian (Babs). It's thru foiling these two attempts and her method of ending the contract Two-Face put on Gordon that puts Cass on Bruce's radar.

With Bruce realizing he can't conquer NML problem on his own, decides he'll need the Bat-Family to fully assist him on this. However, comes the sacking of Helena as Batgirl.

The move is later retconned in "Batman knew what Helena would go and do" thus ensuring he didn't have to look out the area she was at. Plus conquer taking a stand against the Joker in the final month of NML.

But back to the Bat-Family gathering, with a new member a title had to be bestowed on her, and with Babs blessing, Cassandra Cain became the new Batgirl.

The next step in the evolution of both came with Batgirl Vol. 1 #1 as both Bruce/Babs were key to Cass's supporting cast in the comic. Bruce more the stern boss, while Babs the motherly figure that watched and helped her.

I think this distinction should be noted as well the fatherly aspect didn't really develop over in Cass's main book. Rather, Batman: Gotham Knights (but more on that soon).

Instead um... 😶😶😶

Okay, I'm gonna talk about the "bat in the room" aka the thing mostly everyone just buries when it comes to Bruce being a father figure to Cass and that's well the latter having a MAJOR crush on him.

It's something the Kelley Puckett run doesn't focus on thankfully (more going onto boss and later parental). Dylan Horrock's run which followed however um...

See the key to Horrock's was Cass coming to terms with her teen hormones, sexuality (both her own and seeing others lust after her), and how to properly deal with them.

In the end, she realizes how to deal with two (Kon she just wants to be friends with and Black Wind well-- he kind of dies).

Then there's Bruce. Who she feels maybe is jealous of all her suitors (he’s acting more parental at least overbearingly). And it leads to um.. moments like this in #50 which Babs theorizes.

Now it's known by Babs, that Cass does have a crush on Bruce. Something that's brought up also in Gotham Knight at this time period during the whole "Is Bane Bruce's brother subplot".

So this whole period has this um.. sketchy subtextual period. However, it is also Batman: Gotham Knight that also begins to lay the foundation of Bruce to treat Cass like a daughter.

Likewise, Cass's interactions with Dick/Tim are here in this comic too (which I covered in their evolutionary relationship with Cass) where their bonds became sibling-like.

Here for Dick and here for Tim.

Though it's not like Cass just had thoughts for Bruce, as we learn creators in the late '04 to '05 period creators on both Batgirl/Robin thought of the pair as romantic interests (hence why you have A LOT of ship art from that period until '07 when a certain heel turn basically sank it until a little bit or revival in ‘11).

So yeah, Puckett era and most of Horrocks' run? Cass was a Gordon. Literally, she even thinks of Babs not as something more than just a sister in #25, but as a mother.

Likewise, Babs sees the warning signs that something is truly up with Cass throughout the whole Shiva subplot whereas Bruce is more, "She has to confront Shiva and get thru this phase." And Babs is all, "THIS IS GONNA KILL HER!"

ut as we know Cass still goes thru with confronting Shiva, even with Babs' attempts to sway her from doing so.

Regardless, Cass is more Babs' daughter from Puckett to Horrocks.

Where it begins to shift toward fatherly with Bruce and her becoming a Wayne? You can probably begin with "Bruce Wayne: Murderer/Fugitive" where four BIG events happen in Cass's life.

David Cain targets both Bruce and Babs.

Cass learns Bruce is Batman.

Cain's “motive” for targeting them both (he’s honoring a contract made by Lex Luthor.

Cain surrenders to confess to the murder of Vesper Fairchild leading to his incarceration.

Why target both? Because David figures both turned their daughter against him. However, it is AFTER this Bruce develops his more um-- bat dickery approach to Cass but also the sketchy stuff. At least for Horrocks. This is where Puckett has Bruce be more parental toward Cass right after this event.

So it's near the end of Horrock's run that we reach our impasse where it all diverges. Because at the end of the "War Games" event, Babs was leaving Gotham, taking away her as a mentor/mother role to Cass.

The other being the loss of Stephanie Brown aka Cass's best friend. Two key supporting members of Batgirl Vol. 1 and Horrocks left the book because of it.

Still, he wrote the catalyst which would break Cass/Babs apart in #54. Something that I covered when talking about Cass's Dyslexia disability.

The reasoning is understandable as Cass was neglecting her lessons and well mistakes are made. But this moment is what leads to the two having a fractured relationship.

While later Batgirl writer Andersen Gabrych does lay the seeds to mend that relationship in #67. Well, he didn't have to time to finish it. Nor did Gail Simone, writer of BoP either.

Though he did showcase more how much Cass was the mirror to Bruce during this time period.

Because basically, all this is happening right around...

The period of the end of Batgirl Vol. 1 and the beginning of Cass's "heel" turn. Though we can hate on the turn there is one moment within Robin #148 which has Babs reacting rocked with Cass "dying".

Likewise, we have in BoP when Misfit showed up in her intro arc wanting to be the new Batgirl and Babs snapping at Charlotte when "Cass" is brought up.

The thing is if we're gonna go on and say who truly made Cass fully a Wayne in the conscious mind. It would be Batgirl Vol. 2 #1-6 aka “Redemption Road”.

I get the "why" as it takes Cass FULLY into being a Wayne here. Bruce/Tim are full-on family mode trying to keep Cass afloat while writer Adam Beechen addresses the grand flaws with the main Bat Books and Bat-Family (aka Dick).

I get the "why" this is Beechen trying to cement Cass and giving her the direction the story was going with the character AT THAT POINT.

That's not to say he disregards Babs' time with Cass though. As in the story, she helps aid Cass in her quest of revenge. Though again, David Cain attempts to take her out (this time more for what she does than for the secondary reason).

But it's clear by stories' end where Cass is going as a character. She's a Wayne.

I get it the "why" as Beechen was undoing the damage he himself accidentally wrought on the character during this time period. This was him correcting the great claws in the infamous period of '06 to '07.

Aka...

This hot mess:

But as we know this is where Cass's journey with both ended abruptly as minds were made to put Babs' back as Batgirl and for Cass to be ousted from the role.

Except things went another route instead. Let's just say '09 was a rough period because DC was gonna DC.

Though when Cass was brought back. I'd be curious to know what Gail would've done if she was allowed Cass as she originally wanted during her "Brightest Day" run of Birds of Prey.

It's a little "what if" I wonder what would've happened if Grant Morrison and Fabian Nicieza hadn't beaten her to the punch and reinvented the character as Black Bat with a path being the Batman of Hong Kong and further seeding the brother/sister dynamic she had with Tim.

Because sadly that's where the trail ends for Babs/Cass in the Pre-New 52 era. Wayne portion though? “Gates of Gotham” by Scott Snyder and Kyle Higgins continued to build where Batgirl Vol. 2 left off.

This mini though never fully said aloud basically strengthens the bounds of Cass and her brothers. We get so many good moments in this mini with her, Tim, and Dick while also the first meeting she has with Damian.

I think unknowingly this and the New 52 is why mostly Cass is more associated with the Wayne side than Gordons. Because unfortunately right across the horizon was...

We all know how DC "handled" Cass during this era.

I think this is where the clear distinction was fully cast off here. Because DC thought by having Cass around it would negate Babs' return as Batgirl.

HOWEVER!!

It's never said during the Future's End: Batgirl #1 but it sure as heck implied that Babs went on an adopting spree taking in Cass, Steph, and Tiffany.

I think of it and three other stories as the last beacons of Cass being a Gordon.

Because two years after this Cass was reintroduced into the DCU. However with provisions. One of those was crystal clear: no history with Babs.

Why?

If you know the "age-old" DC rule of this era. To acknowledge or establish Babs back as a mentor/mother figure to Cass it would "age" Babs up. Certain folk at DC wanted Babs as younger not older.

So it's not surprising AT ALL that Cass never appeared in Batgirl Vol. 5 until the very end. Now it's not surprising given Babs was doing her own thing with creators trying to find the character's path in the Rebirth era.

Not to mention for Cass? She was branded more toward Wayne side in her new origin as she appeared during Dick Grayson's "first year" as Robin now and was retconned being the second child Bruce encountered and tried to protect.

Which led us to this glorious moment.

However, DC still didn't want to fully dive into this because again it would "age Bruce up". So "half-measures" were taken and Cass was a "backseat Bat-Family member" than the "inner circle" (Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Babs, Dick, and Jason).

That's not to say writers (Snyder and his student James Tynion IV) wanted that reestablishment with either.

Oh, it was literally throughout the Rebirth Tec era. Just in small doses until the very end. When we got the FULL shot.

Along with this additional nugget of Cass going off to be mentored by Babs. Though those looking in Batgirl Vol. 5 would find this instead:

And again continued to find that until the very last issue for some reason. A part of me always wanted to ask any of the writers of Batgirl Vol. 5 but... just never felt the need given--

-- we got "an answer" aka the third bone tossed on the side of Gordon with Bryan Edward Hill's Tec run aka #983-986 where we got MANY nods to the past with Babs/Cass.

It's just before we got any more with the two the door kind of closed shut on this side tightly.

Oh sure, we got Batgirls and so much. But never once (sadly) does it feel like Cass is a Gordon or Babs is mother/mentor to her. It's more Babs feels like the out-of-touch older member of the trio who's trying to fit in with the youths.

The Wayne side on the other hand? Oh, Bryan Edward Hill's Batman & the Outsider run was ALL about reestablishing that thanks to a concerned mother (among other elements).

And that whole end reached its crux with the series' end, a certain someone getting fired from DC, James Tynion IV's Batman run, and Batman Wayne Family Adventures.

All of this mish-mashed together gave us Cassandra Cain Wayne. But what of the Gordon side? I feel it's important to understand that there is one graphic novel that realized the importance more of Babs had with Cass more than Bruce did.

Of course, I speak of Shadow of the Batgirl. Where Cass gets TWO mother figures in the series. Jackie and Babs.

Writer Sarah Kuhn showcases WHY Babs is so critical to Cass's origin more than Bruce is. Thematically, Kuhn realized elements that are just more poetic between the two and we have the closest thing to what Puckett originally established.

Kind why the work is so highly recommended Kuhn took all the stuff that worked, took out what didn't, and added her own spin to the material.

It really showcases why Babs is more a necessity to Cass than Bruce is. I mean sure Bruce has his positivities too as a parental figure. It just takes what NML was giving. The next Batgirl finding Babs and her giving the teen the life she so craved.

However, Babs/Bruce represents the two sides to what Cass craves so in the end, she is both a Gordon and a Wayne.

It's just that during the "New 52" one side got lost because it would "age" Babs up, while for Bruce it was light on the "Wayne" side.

Why you have more Wayne than Gordon. But even with the bias we have still gotten nods to the past.

That's not to say there is a current DC writer who fully understands BOTH sides to the coin. Just that she's never fully gotten the chance to. *cough* Mariko Tamaki *cough*

So there is my final say as to "Is Cassandra Cain a Wayne or a Gordon"?

#cassandra cain #barbara gordon #bruce wayne #dc comics

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aylacavebear · 16 days

Text

Retribution Chapter 4

Summary: You had DID for most of your life, over forty years, since you were two. It wasn't until after you were forty-three that you were finally able to heal it and become a singular. You're a hunter and have been with Dean for a very long time. Once you become singular, you have to face the horrors that your mental illness subjected on those you cared about, loved. Can you get past seeing yourself as worse than any monster you've ever hunted down?

Pairing is Dean Winchester x Reader/You

Warnings: Sexual Abuse (memories), Physical Abuse (memories), DID - Dissociation Identity Disorder (AKA MPD), Mental Health Issues, Alcoholism, Self-Deprecation, Thoughts of deserving to have it all done to "you".

Please, if you suffer from any mental illness, seek help. There are people out there who can help you get through it, no matter how alone you feel now or how hard it may seem.

A/N: This is going to be very dark, darker than anything I've written thus far. It will include many triggers - abuse both sexual and physical - in memories and what happens to the reader. I'm hoping it will have a happy ending but right now, I am not sure where this will go. This is your main warning before you begin reading. A/N: Dreams and Memories are indented in italics. Thoughts are in italics only.

Word Count: 3865

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - Rock Bottom

The nightmares were the same, your personalities molesting him nearly every night from the time you had moved in with him. It wasn’t bad on the nights when you had to sleep in the car with him and Sam, mostly since Sam was there. They didn’t want witnesses. Even on the nights when the three of you shared a motel room, it wasn’t bad, as Sam was always in the other bed in the same room.

It wasn’t until they found the bunker that things got really bad. You and Dean opted to share a room from the start, finally having some privacy. At first, things seemed normal. He’d brought up you getting handsy in your sleep before, even seductively moving against him to the point where he’d wake up rock hard from your movements. The first week was great. The second week, though, that’s when it started getting bad.

“What do you mean you woke up inside her?” Sam asked, almost feeling dirty having this bizarre conversation with his brother. “I don’t know. It was weird. I woke up and was halfway inside her, spooning her. Then, when I grabbed her hip to keep going, she elbowed me. I barely had time to block it,” Dean explained, completely confused. “Well, have you talked to her about it?” Sam asked as his mind raced with thoughts. “Not yet, no. I wasn’t sure what to say. She hasn’t done that before,” Dean sighed. “I can look more into that thing she said she had. What was it…” Sam trailed off, trying to remember. “The DID?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah. I can do some research on it. See what I can find out,” Sam offered. “That might help,” Dean replied, giving his brother a thankful smile. You’d been listening from the hallway where the rooms were. Neither of them knew you were there. Your mind raced, having no clue what to think about what you’d just heard. As far as you knew, you’d never physically hurt anyone before, let alone Dean, especially in your sleep. Then there was what he said about how it happened. You knew you were different in a lot of ways, having gaps in your memories, waking up in places you had no clue as to how you got there, and then there were other things like hangovers when you didn’t remember drinking the night before. Then, there were the “people” in your head that you talked to. They helped you do things, taking care of things you didn’t know how and you’d watch from within the mind. Now you were standing near the kitchen hallway, listening to another conversation the brothers were having in the kitchen. “You’re not gonna like this,” Sam sighed. “What?” Dean asked. “Well, DID is caused by severe trauma in childhood, before the kid turns eight. It’s usually sexual abuse by someone close to them. However, if the child has other issues like autism, ADHD, or something like that, even something as simple as harsh discipline can cause it,” Sam explained. Slowly, you brought your hand up, covering your gaping mouth at what Sam had said. That scared you, and your mind raced with questions. And then you saw it, the switch. The entire demeanor of your body changed, now standing straight, expressionless. You continued to listen, though, wanting to know what their next move was. “How can I help her, Sam?” Dean asked, and you could hear the sadness in his tone. “She needs professional help. This isn’t something you can help her get through. Plus, all her personalities have to want it, or it won’t work,” Sam continued explaining. “She’d never go for that. She hates doctors,” Dean sighed, “There has to be something online. Resources for someone who has DID and can’t see a doctor about it.” Sam sighed, “I’ll keep looking. Let’s just hope that she wants to get better. I just don’t know how long I can sit back and stay quiet, knowing what her personalities are doing to you at night. Then there’s how they are argumentative, deliberately making problems not only between you and her, but me and you and me and her.” “I just don’t want to lose her,” Dean said sadly. “Why would you lose her?” Sam asked, sounding puzzled. “The one I fell in love with, Sam. She’s in there. Sometimes, she comes out. I always know when it’s her, too. The others, they don’t let her out very often. So, I relish the time I do get to spend with her,” Dean explained, almost sounding as if he was lost in a memory. “One personality isn’t worth you getting abused like you are. No matter how much she means to you,” Sam tried to explain.

You woke up to the train horn, startled slightly since the train wasn’t moving very fast anymore. Peaking through a slit in the boxcar, you realized you were now at a train station, and it was nearly dawn.

Time to get a move on.

At the moment, you weren’t entirely sure what town you’d ended up in. Stuffing the mostly empty bottle of whiskey back in your bag, you jumped off the boxcar, not wanting to get caught having hitched a ride illegally. Ending up in a police station would have made it far to easy for the brothers to locate you, again.

Using the last bits of shadows of the fading darkness, you carefully made your way toward businesses and civilization. Chicago, Illinois.

Damn, need to get out of this city.

This wasn’t a safe city, and you knew it. Mostly because your personalities had been here before, when you had DID, and you didn’t need to have anyone recognize you. You couldn’t risk stealing a car either, knowing the brothers would be watching for that.

Guess that means I’m hitchhiking.

That wasn’t the safest either, but you didn’t have many options at the moment. You decided to head toward the lake and make your way further east. It seemed simpler than going along the main roads of the town.

As cars passed, you stuck out your thumb, but none of them stopped. You figured they were probably going to work and had no time for you, which only made your self-deprecating thoughts worse—that you really were worthless.

Your mind wandered as you continued walking. Any normal person would have gone to their family, their friends, and asked for help. You couldn’t, though. Right now, you felt like a monster. Thoughts of calling Cas or Crowley, both for different reasons, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do either at the moment.

When someone did stop, it was almost noon. At least it was a woman.

“Where you headed?” she asked you as you peeked your head in her passenger window.

“East. Doesn’t matter where. Just as far as you’re willing to take me,” you replied, giving her a friendly smile.

“Hop in. I’m heading a few hours down the road,” she replied with a soft smile.

“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” you replied, sliding into the passenger seat and keeping your bag in your lap.

You knew how you looked and were thankful the woman didn’t push you to talk about anything. The only other sound in the car was the music from her radio. You kept your view out the window for the duration of the drive. Then, you thanked her when she dropped you off at a gas station somewhere on the outskirts of a town.

Knowing you needed to eat something, you went and bought some jerky and a couple of those ready-made sandwiches most gas stations carried, along with a couple of bottles of water and another bottle of whiskey. Unfortunately you had to use one of your fake credit cards, as you’d run out of cash and hadn’t wanted to hustle pool to make more. Bars were the last thing you wanted to go into.

You nibbled on the jerky as you continued down the road, thumb out every time a vehicle passed by, even if it was few and far between. The day wore on, and soon, the sun began to set. You would have found the display of colors beautiful were you not in the mental state you were in. Just after dark, a pickup truck pulled over.

“Where you headed, little lady?” the man asked you.

If you’d been in your right frame of mind, you would have just kept walking. “East, as far as you’ll take me,” you replied, looking in through the passenger window.

“Hop in,” he said, giving you a smile.

“Thanks,” you told him, sliding into the passenger seat.

The inside of the truck was fairly clean, much to your surprise. The man looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, slightly scruffy, and with shoulder-length dark brown hair. You had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into by getting into his truck.

“What are you running from?” the man asked you as he began driving again.

“My past,” you answered, looking out the window.

“I could help you with that,” he said calmly, half watching you and half watching the road.

“I don’t need help. I just need to stay away from people,” you told him plainly.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, now curious.

You sighed. This wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, but since you hadn’t had anyone to talk about it, it all came flooding out. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you told this stranger every detail of your past that you had remembered thus far, although you left out the brothers' names.

“I’m a monster. I don’t deserve to live,” you sobbed out at the end, now mostly curled into a ball.

“You want to die?” he asked you, prying for more information.

After getting your tears to stop and taking several slow, deep breaths, “Yes and no. I mostly want to give him retribution for what happened. I just don’t know how to go about subjecting myself to that kind of abuse for the same length of time,” you answered, fairly quietly.

The man smirked, and you only caught it out of the corner of your eye as he turned to look at you, “I might know someone who could help you with that,” he replied, his eyes going black.

Your heart began pounding in your chest as the air caught in your lungs, barely able to breathe. He was a demon, and you had nothing on you to defend against him. All that stuff was back in the trunk of your car.

He laughed, “I’m not gonna hurt you. My boss, he’s been looking for you for a few days now,” he began explaining as his gaze went back to the road. “He sent over a dozen of us out looking for you.”

Terror gripped you, and all you could do was stare at him. You had no idea how you were going to get yourself out of this little mess, even with the memories of being a hunter from the personalities who had done that. Demons only had one boss, and you knew that, Crowley. Then, curiosity got the better of you.

“Why is Crowley looking for me?” you asked, your voice shaking.

The demon grinned, sending a chill down your body, “The Winchesters are looking for you. So, Crowley wants you.”

He’d said it so plainly as if it was a common occurrence. You took several slow, deep breaths and turned back to look out the window, slowly getting comfortable again. There was no point in attempting to run, not now.

Perhaps this is for the best. I can get my questions answered now.

Your phone vibrated again in your pocket. With a silent sigh, you pulled it out. It was Sam, again. The demon glanced at you as you turned off your phone and slid it back into your pocket, which made him smile.

Nearly twelve hours later, the demon was pulling up to an old, abandoned asylum. You stared at it as the demon got out, and to your surprise, he opened the passenger door for you.

“Uh, thanks?” you told him, fairly confused. Demons normally didn’t have manners, nor were they nice.

“This way,” he said, so you followed.

As the demon guided you toward Needham Asylum, Crowley’s base of operations on Earth, an ominous feeling washed over you. It was a three-story building made of stone and brick, tattered due to weathering and abandoned prior to Crowley making it his. Broken stones littered the sides of the long set of stairs leading to the porch, where a heavy door stood.

The demon opened the door, letting you enter ahead of him. He then guided you down a hallway to your right. The demons the two of you passed only stared, staying quiet. You’d fought lots of demons when you had DID, even exorcised them out of their host body and back to hell. This though, being at Crowley’s base of operations, demons all around the place, was fairly intimidating, especially with nothing to defend yourself.

This place reminded you more of an old castle and dungeon than an asylum. He stopped in front of hardwood-arched double doors that came together at a point where the two met at the top. A demon guard was on either side of the doorway, both staring at you and the demon who pushed the doors open.

Inside, it opened up into a large throne room, more medieval-style torches adorned the columns that went from the floor to the ceiling, leading into more archways, casting dim light around the rather large room. There were several demons around the room, doing various tasks, but they all stopped to stare at the two of you as you followed the demon, who approached the throne.

There he sat, Crowley, the King of Hell himself, upon a dark wooden throne on a platform that took two steps to reach. He seemed bored until his gaze found you behind the demon. He was dressed in his typical black suit. Always the businessman.

Before the demon could speak, though, Crowley spoke, “Wel, well, well. What do we have here?” His voice echoed through the chamber, sending a chill down your spine. He seemed amused at your presence. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you gracing my humble abode so willingly.” His Scottish accent always made your skin crawl.

You swallowed hard, trying not to lose your nerve now. The demon that had led you there bowed his head before stepping to the side, leaving you alone in the center of the room. Everything you’d thought about, contemplated and debated left your mind.

“Something's different about you,” Crowley speculated before he stood and moved closer to you. When you took a couple of small steps back and away from him, he chuckled. “Now, love, aren’t getting cold feet, are you?”

Crowley walked around you, almost like he was studying you. It took everything in you to keep your eyes on him, “The demon said… you were looking for me. Why?” you asked, but your voice was far more timid than you wanted it to be.

“Well, isn’t this an interesting development?” he mused, raising an eyebrow as he moved to stand in front of you. “They’re all gone now, aren’t they? And you’re what’s left.”

You flinched at his words, “You knew?” there was far more confidence in your tone than you felt at the moment.

“I make it my business to know things. You still didn’t answer me, earlier,” he pushed.

Your heart was pounding, and it was hard to breathe, let alone look at Crowley for very long. “I’m a monster,” you mumbled, now looking at the floor, “I-I can’t face them. I can’t face…” You tried to say his name, but your voice broke as you felt the tears burn your eyes.

If you’d been looking at Crowley, you would have seen his amusement but also caution. He knew just how persistent the Winchesters could be when they wanted something.

“They- he deserves retribution for what I’ve done to him. The same should be done to me… for the same amount of time…” you mumbled out, slowly looking up at Crowley.

You couldn’t read him. All you could tell was that he was thinking. Then, he spoke, “For now, you’ll stay in a cell.”

With those words, one demon took your bag, then your phone from your pocket, while two others escorted you out of the throne room, down a few different hallways, and pushed you into an empty cell. You didn’t fight them, and you didn’t turn around when you heard the cell door lock.

This was a brilliant idea. Now I don’t even have my whiskey.

You sighed and sat down on the very uncomfortable surface meant to be a bed, taking in your surroundings. The place stank of blood, death, and bodily excrements. Not to mention the sulfur due to all the demons around.

The cell also wasn’t very well lit, as the torches were in the hallway, casting more shadow than anything inside. Lying down on the makeshift bed, you stared at the ceiling, what of it you could see anyway.

I’ve hurt him so much, even if I’m not them. It’s still the same face, the same body. All he’ll ever see is them. I’d never do those things to him, but that doesn’t matter.

Your mind wandered, which wasn’t a good thing, especially sober.

You were in your shared room again, and you could tell that it was the personality that loved him who was in control of the body. You watched as she roused from sleep, far earlier than normal. She looked over at his sleeping form, giving him a soft smile as you felt the tears begin to slide down your cheeks. She moved closer, gently dancing her fingertips along his chest as she leaned on her elbow, lying next to his naked body, only love in her eyes. It was when she reached for his face that he flinched away from her, quickly covering his face with his arms. She shied away from him, curling up in a ball with her knees tucked close to her chest, and sobbed silently. This had happened numerous times since the three of you had moved into the bunker. He’d also jumped in his sleep when she’d gone to wake him up before, attempting to get away from her before she could physically assault him. It always happened with her, the personality that loved him, and it broke her heart, and now yours as you watched silently.

Something pulled you from your thought or nightmare, you weren’t quite sure which. It was possible you had dozed off, but still, you weren’t sure. You turned your head a bit to look out through the bars of the front of the cell.

Wonder what that sound was…

When no one came by, you just sighed and returned your gaze to the ceiling. Since you were still on Earth and not in Hell, time passed normally. You thought back, to when Dean had gone to Hell. One month was equivalent to ten years. Your mind then wandered to the work you’d done on yourself and the DID.

It had been hard and tedious, but you could only work on it when other personalities wouldn’t interfere, and you could be alone, away from the brothers. The beginning timeframe felt like you’d done nothing more than gone in circles.

“How come you’re up so late?” Sam asked you a year after you’d begun research and attempting to heal your illness, causing you to jump and slam the laptop shut. “Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled, not looking up at him. You watched from across the room, and it was clear to you that Sam didn’t believe the excuse you’d given him at the time. “Want some company?” he asked, although you could tell he didn’t really mean it. “No. I think I’m gonna try to go get some sleep,” you mumbled again, grabbing the laptop before getting up. As you watched the interaction in the memory, it was clear that Sam wanted to say so much more to you, but he was holding his tongue. You sighed, knowing it was because of his brother that he was staying quiet and keeping his thoughts to himself. You followed yourself in the memory, to an empty room. The door closed, and you were sitting on the bed, laptop open, reading whatever was on the screen about healing your illness. You could also see tears in your eyes from the glow of the screen. The memory changed, and you were now in one of the archive rooms that the brothers never went into. You saw yourself sitting in a corner with the laptop again. Squinting your eyes, you realize this memory was from only a year ago when the mergers began happening. This time though, it was Dean who walked in on you. “Hey, why are you hiding in here?” he asked you softly, taking care not to approach you too quickly, having no clue which personality was present at the moment. You closed the laptop but didn’t look up at him, “I just wanted quiet.” You almost didn’t notice how your tone had no feeling in it as you watched things play out before you. Their memories were always in third person. “You’ve been hiding a lot these days. Wanna talk about it?” he asked you, still a good five feet away from you. “Not really. I wouldn’t know what to even say,” you answered, now looking up at him. Watching, you saw it, the change in you. It was in your eyes, and at least to you, it was apparent that things were different with you. “I’ve been with you through so much. I know I’m not the best when it comes to emotions, but I’m here to lean on. I wish you’d let me help you,” he sighed. “You can’t help me with this,” you sighed, looking away from him. He said nothing and just left you alone. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you opened the laptop again, going back to what you’d been working on. Watching everything made you shed silent tears. You remembered this moment, and on that laptop was the document where you’d been communicating with your other personalities, attempting to get them all on the same page.

“Hey, Crowley wants to see you,” a male demon said from the other side of the bars, pulling you from the memory, or nightmare, you weren’t sure.

“Fine,” you mumbled, slowly standing up and approaching the cell door, but the demon didn’t open it, he just smirked.

“Oh, you’re not getting out. He’s coming down here to see you,” the demon said in a low, pleased tone.

You just rolled your eyes and sat back down on the makeshift bed, keeping your mouth shut. That was when the angel appeared in your cell, grabbed your shoulder, and the two of you disappeared.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5 - Guardian Angel

Retribution Master List

Tag List: @jc-winchester @nancymcl

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