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naughtyneganjdm · 3 years ago

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Caught in the Middle - Chapter 1

Summary: Daryl Dixon finds himself head over heels for the new teacher at the local high school that he works at, but she has eyes for Negan.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Daryl Dixon, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33634642/chapters/83581864

Warnings: Swearing, etc.

Notes: This is going to be another short story. I'm going to attempt to keep the chapters shorter so I can get through this story pretty fast. I was talking to a friend about something and this idea kind of came to me. I know it's kind of different, but I plan on switching POVs frequently so Daryl is not the main character of this story. There are three main characters. Negan, Daryl and Y/N. Hopefully you guys like it!

Y/N means your name or whatever name you want to put in there!

There weren’t a lot of things in the world that caught Daryl Dixon’s attention. For the most part, he had closed himself off in general. After the life he had growing up, he had become cold to things in the world. He’d get up, go to work, head home, sleep and then repeat. So, for someone to really catch his attention was a pretty big deal. Especially since Daryl wasn’t one for relationships or being attracted to people. Relationships were too much work and he just didn’t have the patience for them. Well, that was until someone new arrived at work. After that, it kind of changed everything for him. Which surprised the hell out of him, but he looked forward to every minute he got to spend with this new person.

Daryl was the auto shop teacher at the local high school. Was it a cool job? Fuck no. Was he good at it? Probably not as good as he could have been, but he was good at fixing things. When he was younger teaching was not something he would have ever pictured himself doing. Hell, he wasn’t exactly the most social person, so to say it was a struggle sometimes would be a massive understatement.

When a friend offered him a job after an I owe you situation, Daryl quickly snagged that shit up. He would have been stupid to not take this job. With his background, he was lucky to have a job as it was. Every day, he would go to work and just do what he had to in order to get through the day. He never really got close to the other teachers, but he observed from afar. Watching people and learning things without being a part of them was something Daryl had become good at. The students liked him well enough, but it wasn’t like he was trying to make friends or be everyone’s favorite. He just did what he had to do and that was it. Going above and beyond was not Daryl’s style.

A few months ago, a new teacher had transferred to their school and Daryl felt like they kind of immediately hit it off. They had literally run into each other in the hallway on her first day when she was lost. Daryl was coming out of his classroom looking at his phone and nearly knocked her over onto the floor. When he caught her, there was something about her smile that had caught his attention. When she had asked him for a tour of the school, he was eager to do it. Not that he was very good at it. Daryl was never a man of many words, but around Y/N he found himself opening up more and more. That was the nice thing about this girl. She made him step out of the box and be something more than he usually was.

Every day the two of them would find time to talk to each other and he relished in every moment of it. It became something where he started looking forward to going to work. He was excited to wake up every day. It was all because of her and the weekends were the worst because he didn’t actually get to see her. They texted each other, but the weekdays had become his favorite thing.

An overwhelmed breath fell from his throat when he looked over his shoulder after hearing the group of loud, boisterous laughter filling the bar that he was in. This was new for him. A lot of the teachers would get together some nights at the local bar to hang out. Of course, there were certain groups that liked to hang out more often than not. The source of the laughter stemmed from the staff favorite, Negan Smith. For some reason, every person seemed to love Negan. He always drew the attention of people and people found him hilarious. Daryl found him to be juvenile and somewhat annoying himself, but somehow, Negan was always the person people drifted to. Even being an asshole, all the students loved him as well as the teachers. Negan was the life of the party and very much the opposite of Daryl. Hell, Daryl didn’t even want to be here, but he was because he wanted to see Y/N. That’s really why he was there. It was the one time they would get together outside of work and Daryl loved being around her outside of a work setting.

Turning back toward the bar, Daryl reached out for the neck of his beer bottle and slid the bottle in front of him. It made him wonder if Y/N was actually coming tonight. Usually she would be here by now. When the laughter seemed to get louder, Daryl grumbled to himself and lowered his head. This wasn’t Daryl’s kind of scene and each moment he spent there proved that more and more.

“Forget this,” Daryl got up from the stool and started pushing into his pockets to look for his money until he felt the sensation of someone nudging him.

“You leaving this early?” Y/N muttered when Daryl looked to her with his big blue eyes. A tiny grin expanded over his features and he immediately shook his head. Was he getting up to leave? Yes, but with her here he would reconsider that. Pulling out the stool beside him for her, Daryl felt his heart skip a beat in his chest when she moved in beside him. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up at school checking some papers. I would have gotten it done earlier, but someone came to talk to me for a while so that kept there a little longer than I would have liked to have been there.”

“You finish everything then?” Daryl confirmed and she gave a nod before ordering herself a drink. Truthfully, he didn’t care why she was late. He was just happy to see her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, it was pretty nice,” she answered with a simple shrug. “What about yourself?”

“Oh yeah, it was great,” Daryl lied and her eyebrows arched in curiosity when he said that. A nervous laugh fell from his throat and he shrugged.

“Oh really?” she chuckled, thanking the bartender when he came back with her drink.

“Okay, so it was just like every other day. Until now,” Daryl reached for his beer and swallowed down the last bit that was left in there. “Now that you’re here, it’s pretty great. You could brighten any mundane day for me Y/N. You know that.”

“You are so sweet,” she reached out to hook her arm around his shoulders to give him a hug and his face flushed over when she pulled away. “That was smooth. That was real smooth.”

“Well, that’s me. Mr. Smooth,” Daryl brushed his fingers through his hair to straighten it out. “But you are pretty cool. You’re the most interesting thing in this town. I tell you that.”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend here. Even if it’s not true, you are always saying things to make me smile,” she reached out to place her hand over his and she gave it a firm squeeze. “You’ve been the best to me since I transferred here. You’re the greatest. You know that?”

“Yeah?” Daryl was happy to hear that. At some point he was genuinely hoping the best friend label would progress into more, but right now he was okay with settling with that title. Just getting to be with her was more than enough right now. He didn’t want to push too hard or too fast. “I’m only saying what I believe Y/N.”

“We know I am so far from being the most interesting thing here,” she denied his statement while she took a sip of her drink that she had gotten. When the noise from the group in the back filled the bar again, they both looked back. The other teachers at the school were surrounding a pool table and Negan was obviously playing against one of the others. “You know, we should do that one day. Play a round of pool. I’m actually really good at it. We should do teams. You and I could go up against Simon and Negan.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daryl rolled his eyes, turning himself back toward the bar while she kept her eyes on the game that they were playing. “That’s really not my thing. Putting myself into the thick of that. I have no interest in being part of that group.”

“They aren’t so bad,” she suggested and Daryl looked to see to see that her focus was still locked on them. Looking over his shoulder, Daryl noticed that Negan had lifted his head and his eyes connected with hers. With an arrogant bob of his head and a bright smile, Negan gave Y/N a wink. Looking to Y/N after Negan did it, Daryl could see that it made her smile and her face flushed over. “I think you would enjoy yourself at times if you opened yourself up to it. The people at the school would really like you.”

“No one had interest in me before you were here and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t now either,” Daryl retorted with a snort when he looked back again to notice that Negan and Y/N were still staring at each other. Someone grabbed a hold of Negan to get his attention and Daryl felt his body tensing up over the moment he just witnessed. “They really aren’t that interesting Y/N. Plus, I’m not all that good at pool.”

“Well, I have a table at my home. One day you can come over and I could teach you some tricks,” she offered up, her eyes finally meeting his again. The air around them was cool and Daryl didn’t know if the chill filling his body was that or the jealousy of that stare between her and Negan.

“That would be really cool. I’ve yet to be at your house yet you know,” Daryl reminded her and Y/N gave him a shifty look. “Well, I’ve dropped you off…”

“And I’ve asked you if you wanted to come in multiple times to hang out. Every time you turn me down,” she pointed out and he knew that he didn’t want to come in because he was afraid that he would do something stupid. It had been a long time since he was interested in someone. He didn’t want to make a mistake that made this girl leave his life forever. “You know you are welcome at my place any day. You at least know where I live. I don’t even know where you live.”

“Well, it’s not a nice place where I live,” Daryl explained with a frown knowing that he lived with his deadbeat brother. Most of the time Merle wasn’t there, but he didn’t want the one day she would come over to be one of the few times Merle came over. With his mouth, Daryl was sure that Merle would scare Y/N away forever. “It’s kind of a mess. You deserve to be in places better than that.”

“I don’t care what your place looks like. You’re my friend and I would like to spend time with you other than being here sometimes. You know that,” she professed with a shake of her head, reaching out to place her hand over his arm. “I’m not the kind of person that cares what your place looks like. I like you for you.”

“I think you’re the only person in the world that has ever said something like that to me,” Daryl confessed and he watched her roll her eyes. Obviously, she thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. That’s what was sad. No one had ever been as nice to him as she had been. How couldn’t he like this girl? She was one of the only people he had ever met that didn’t make him feel like a deadbeat or a waste of space. “You think I’m kidding?”

“Who wouldn’t like you Daryl?” she gave him a confused expression and he didn’t know how to answer that. “There is a lot of good to you.”

“The world never made me feel that way,” Daryl informed her with a weak smile before waving to order himself another drink.

“Well then the world needs to take another look. You need to throw yourself out there Daryl. You don’t have to be this loner for the rest of your life, you know?” she insisted with a shake of her head. “You deserve to be happy, just like everyone else.”

“Where did you come from?” Daryl sighed wishing like hell this girl would have dropped into his life sooner.

“You know where I came from,” she hesitantly laughed and then turned in her seat to look back at the rest of the group behind them again. “Truth be told Daryl; I like it here a lot more than I did at the old school I worked at. People here are more like family. They are friendlier. They don’t always seem like they are out to stab you in the back. People are willing to help and make you feel at home.”

“You must be talking to people I don’t know,” Daryl explained with a groan, turning on his seat to look at the crowded bar behind him.

“You don’t talk to people Daryl,” she replied with a silly glance and Daryl grunted while taking a sip of his beer. “You wouldn’t have even talked to me if I wouldn’t have run right into you on my first day here. It took me almost breaking something for you to actually talk to me.”

“Regardless,” Daryl knew what these people were like and he had no interest. No one really caught his attention or made it seem like they deserved his respect. In his opinion, most of the people at the school just liked the attention they could get. That was it. Noticing the way that Negan looked over his shoulder at stole another glance at Y/N made Daryl bite into his bottom lip. “Who did you talk to today after work?”

“What?” she muttered and Daryl could see that her attention was somewhere else and he frowned. Daryl reached out to nudge her arm and it took a second before she shook off to look over at him. “It was Negan. He’s funny. The two of us have been talking a bit over the last few weeks. The guy really likes to cook and he was bragging about his food about a month ago. Offered me some and every few days he is always bringing in things for me to try that he made. Today it was a raspberry danish that he made.”

“Oh, the guy is a good cook too, huh?” Daryl snorted, his eyes rolling when he thought about Negan and how everyone found the guy pretty much fucking perfect. Then again, he found himself super jealous at the idea of the two of them talking. Why had Y/N never mentioned the fact that her and Negan had been talking? “You know, you shouldn’t be taking food from strangers.”

“Oh come on,” she laughed, her eyebrows creasing with amusement when she gave her attention fully to Daryl. “Negan is not a stranger. I work with him and if something bad happened to me from the food, I’m not the only one he gives his food too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re not,” Daryl scoffed at the idea, turning away in disgust from the rest of the people from work.

“What is it with you and Negan?” she pondered, sliding in beside Daryl elbowing him playfully while Daryl kept his head down.

“What is it with you and Negan?” Daryl repeated her question with an emphasis on the word you. His eyes narrowed and she stole another glance back over her shoulder at Negan.

“Okay, fine,” she let out a long exhale of air, lowering her head. It took a minute and she reached for her drink to quickly finish it off as if to gain courage to tell him what she wanted to say. “Since you’re you…I won’t lie to you, but you have to keep your mouth shut about it.”

Instead of saying anything, Daryl stared out at her with his confused blue eyes while her right hand spun in the air trying to come up with the right words to say, “I kind of have a crush on Negan. I know it’s silly since we’re adults and using that word is so juvenile, but I don’t know. I just find him so charming and he makes me laugh. When he smiles, I just find myself smiling, you know? Those dimples are gorgeous and he’s got a wicked sense of humor.”

“You are crushing on him?” Daryl restated what she had just said and she hushed him. Disappointment filled his entire body and his face felt exceedingly hot. An ache developed at the center of his chest and he had to pull his eyes away from her. It hurt way too much to even hear that from her. Especially since he had the biggest crush on her and yearned for more. Flicking his bar napkin aside, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Of course you like Negan. Everyone likes Negan.”

“What do you mean?” she tilted her head to the side noticing that Daryl no longer seemed to want to look at her. It made things a little uncomfortable because that wasn’t the reaction she thought she would get for being honest with her friend.

“I mean it makes sense that you would be like everyone else. Negan is the cool guy. The jock. The person that everyone drifts toward,” Daryl stated with a scoff hating that of all the people she liked, it was Negan. “I just thought you were a little more interesting than that.”

“Ouch,” she reached up to place her hand over the center of her chest, feigning like he hurt her with her words. “Where did that come from?”

“I just thought you were different than most people. Everyone sees Negan and their eyes just light up. He eats the attention up and people just attract to him like flies to bug zapper,” Daryl ranted hating that his jealousy was getting the better of him, but it was. “When I met you, I just thought you were someone who was attracted to something different. Like you said, you like people for who they are.”

“Just because I have a silly crush on someone doesn’t mean I’m not the same person that is your friend. You and I have gotten super close over the last few months. I think you know me better than anyone else does here,” she pointed out, hating to hear him saying the things that he was. “I just like the way that he makes me feel, you know?”

“And you’re attracted to him,” Daryl snorted knowing that there was no doubt that she was attracted to his looks by all the times he had caught her staring at Negan with heart eyes tonight. “You’re right…I know you better than anyone else here and I can promise you that you deserve better than Negan. No matter how much you love the fucking dimples.”

“Negan would never even look twice at me Daryl,” she talked down on herself and Daryl found himself upset that she would even do that. Talking illy of herself to bring up Negan made him just pissed off. “Look at him, he’s just so good looking and then there is me.”

“What was in this drink?” Daryl reached for her glass to look it over and he gave her a disgusted face when she said that. “You are fucking beautiful. I can’t believe you said that because you are absolutely gorgeous. Not only that, but you are super cool. Why wouldn’t someone like you? There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“Except for the fact that I crush on Negan which makes me just like everyone else,” she proclaimed, stating what he had said previously and it made him bite down on his bottom lip. Clearly it upset her that he compared her to everyone else just because she liked Negan.

“I’m just saying, with what I know about you I don’t think Negan would be your type. You take work seriously and Negan…I don’t think serious is even a word in his vocabulary,” Daryl complained about Negan knowing that he still was so upset that she was crushing on what he would consider the popular guy. God, life was still so much like high school and he hated it. He felt like a teenager instead of being a teacher that actually worked at a high school. “Like, he totally got fucking fired from this job a while back. You know that?”

“How?” her face wrinkled up in surprise when Daryl said that.

“It was like a year before his wife died,” Daryl clarified and he could see the sadness that flooded in over Y/N’s features when she heard him say that. “You didn’t know that his wife died?”

“No. No one ever mentioned that to me,” she answered honestly knowing that it wasn’t something a lot of people would open with so it made sense that she didn’t know about Negan’s late wife. “What did she die from?”

“She got pancreatic cancer,” Daryl responded with frustration hating the way that she was looking at Negan now. Visibly it made her like Negan more and he damned himself for even saying it. “Him and his wife were at this bar one day. They got into an argument with a guy and Negan beat the fuck out of a guy here. The guy said something nasty to his wife, but he beat the guy almost to death. It was one of the student’s parents, so he ended up getting fired. Was on probation and everything. Then they found out about his wife being sick and dying. They felt bad for him and the community kind of got together to get him his job back to help take care of his wife. Who gets that fucking lucky, huh? Most people that almost beat someone to death don’t usually get people helping them like that. I can promise you when most people make mistakes, it follows them around for the rest of their lives.”

“Damn, he’s been through a lot then, hasn’t he?” she turned further in her chair to look back at Negan who was still playing a game of pool. “You wonder how he continues to be so positive and outgoing when he went through all of that.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Daryl groaned upon hearing her say that and he could see that the story upset her. Empathizing with Negan over that story made him so angry to hear that. That wasn’t the kind of response he was expecting her. When he told her that he almost beat a guy to death, he thought she would look down on Negan. “He beat the hell out of some guy Y/N.”

“You said the guy he beat said something nasty to his wife. He was defending his wife’s honor,” she filled in the details and Daryl let out a frustrated exhale. “If someone said something bad about someone that you cared about, wouldn’t you do the same?”

“That’s beside the point,” Daryl reached to grab a hold of Y/N’s wrists to get her to look at him. “When I was a kid I lived with my older brother and my dad. My dad was always so drunk that he never got up. We didn’t have food. My brother was always gone and I was starving. People knew what my family was like, but they saw trash when they looked at me. I stole food in order to survive because I had nothing. Do you know what happened to me? I didn’t get a slap on the wrists and told to be a good boy. That stuff stuck with me my whole life. I wasn’t that poor kid that lived in a bad situation, I was that awful little boy that was a thief. No one felt bad for me.”

“Well that makes those people terrible Daryl. You were a little boy that needed help and instead they turned their head away,” she reached out to wrap her fingers around his to give them a firm squeeze. “I think…we all have our own stories. You know? There are things that I’ve…gone through. Horrible things and we all wish there was someone there that could have saved us. You know?”

“What does that mean?” Daryl saw the way she swallowed down hard and he tried to reach out to touch her, but she held her hand up to keep him from doing so in that moment. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying,” she reflected the question and waved for the bartender to get her something else to drink. “Sometimes it’s nice to hear that people did what they did for Negan. I don’t usually have a lot of faith in the world, so when you hear that a community came together to help a man to help him care for his dying wife it makes you feel better about things.”

“Right,” Daryl stammered knowing that what she had just blown off made him think there were things about her that she didn’t tell him about. Now she wasn’t so much an open book, but someone who evidently had their secrets they kept to themselves. Daryl watched her toss back the drink she had gotten and he could see that their discussion had changed her a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to go use the restroom,” she pointed over Daryl’s shoulder toward the ladies’ room and Daryl felt like he should say something to comfort her when she stood up. Something had changed in her beautiful features and he was just never very good at this stuff. With her getting ready to leave, he felt himself choking up at the idea of trying to make her feel better. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” Daryl didn’t know what the hell to say as she moved around him toward the bathroom. Tapping his hands against the top of the bar again, he tried to gather in his mind what he was going to say to her when she came back.

“Daryl!” a loud voice boomed in beside him as he felt the warmth of a body moving near him. Turning his head unhurriedly, he saw that Negan had slid in beside him and Negan’s bright smile ate up most of his face. “You are just the man I wanted to talk to.”

“Why?” Daryl scowled hating to hear a statement like that.

“How are you doing today buddy? Can I buy you a drink or something?” Negan offered attempting to call out to the bartender.

“I have a beer,” Daryl nodded toward his drink and Negan’s right eyebrow raised. Having Negan coming over to him and act like he wanted to speak to him felt weird. It certainly felt out of place. “What do you want Negan?”

“Wow. You’re a man that gets straight to the point, huh?” Negan snickered before calling over the bartender to get himself a drink. When he was done, Daryl cocked his head to the side almost waiting for Negan to speak up.

“Well, considering you’ve never had an interest in talking to me before you undoubtedly want something,” Daryl suggested making Negan’s eyes narrow out at him and Negan bit at his bottom lip. “So, what is it?”

“That’s kind of bullshit Daryl,” Negan retorted with a grunt, his eyes still hooked on Daryl’s when he reached for his drink that the bartender brought. “I’ve asked you plenty of times if you wanted to join us in a round of drinks back there or if you wanted to play some pool. You’re the one that always says no. I just assumed you wanted to stick to yourself and shit after about the fifth time of asking you.”

“Well that was a smart deduction. I’m surprised you came up with it,” Daryl snorted making Negan laugh in response after Daryl said that.

“Wow, look at the smartassery on you,” Negan seemed impressed with Daryl instead of being offended by what Daryl actually said. “Here I was thinking you were this quiet guy, but you’ve got some bite to you. I fucking like it Daryl. You should use that spicy ass attitude more often. Good for you man.”

There was nothing Daryl could say to respond to that, so instead Daryl found himself laughing as Negan reached out to pat Daryl on the back in delight, “Here I was thinking you would get fucking offended and leave me alone.”

“It takes a lot to offend me since I really don’t give a flying fuck what people think about me,” Negan assured Daryl with a wiggle of his brow. Reaching for his drink, Negan swallowed it down before slamming the glass down on top of the bar with a wince. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the new girl. I saw that the two of you were close. Are you dating? Or are you just like really good buds? Because honestly, I’m really fucking interested in her. I was thinking of letting her know I was interested, but if you two are together I don’t want to fuck that up. So I figured I would ask.”

All of Daryl wanted to tell Negan that he was dating her so that way that Daryl could have Y/N to himself. Turning away from Negan to reach for his beer, Daryl debated on what to say. God, he like Y/N so much, but at the same time he knew how much he cared about her. With her just admitting to Daryl that she had huge crush on Negan, Daryl found his heart tangled with what it should do. Taking a minute, Daryl’s eyes lifted toward the ladies’ restroom and he shook his head.

“We’re not dating,” Daryl was honest with Negan while shifting on the seat so he could look at Negan with his intense blue eyes. There was an excitement that flooded Negan’s face when Daryl said that and Daryl was damning himself for even attempting to be a good person in this situation. He wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be an asshole, but he knew that he really liked Y/N and her being happy was worth more than his own happiness. “In fact, I think if you were honest with her, she would be fucking thrilled.”

“Why is that?” Negan inquired with an arch of his thick eyebrow.

“Because she has the biggest crush on you,” Daryl told her secret, but he knew by telling Negan that would help her get something that made her happy in the end. The amusement that flooded Negan’s features made Daryl feel like the biggest loser on the planet. Instead of telling the woman he was in love with that he cared about her, he was telling the guy that she had a crush on that she liked him. Who the fuck did that? “I found that out tonight. So, there you go.”

“So, you’re okay with this?” Negan stammered with a bob of his head while speaking with a big, pearly white smile. When Daryl nodded he knew that Negan was pleased with his answer. Cussing to himself, Daryl hated him himself. So much. Why would he do that? A moment later he heard Negan let out an enthusiastic breath. “Well speak of the devil, look who it is! We were just talking about you.”

“Negan!” Daryl closed his eyes hearing the way that Y/N said Negan’s name. It was the sound of someone that was pleasantly surprised with their guest being there. “I hope it was only good things that you were talking about.”

“Is there any other way to talk about you?” Negan flirted and Daryl silently groaned to himself when Negan moved over to make room for Y/N back at the bar. Glancing beside him, Daryl could see that Negan was still rather close to her while they sat next to each other. “I was happy to see you walk in here. I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“Well, someone made me late to checking my tests,” she reminded Negan and Negan snorted upon hearing her say that. “If it wasn’t for that person, I may have been here sooner rather than later.”

“My fault,” Negan placed his hand over the center of his chest and their eyes were hooked on each other. “I was worried that maybe my danish made you feel sick.”

“Quite the opposite actually, I think it put me in a better mood today,” she complimented Negan and Daryl found himself irritated that he had now become the third wheel. Before Negan was there, she actually acknowledged his existence, but with Negan sitting beside her Daryl realized that he may as well had been invisible. “I was hoping you would be bringing me more tomorrow.”

“See, now you’re getting greedy,” Negan teased with a cock of his head and a big, goofy smile. Daryl watched Negan while he interacted with Y/N and Daryl wished he had half of the confidence along with charisma that Negan did. “I bring you something out of the kindness of my heart and now you’re going to start expecting it.”

“It’s a compliment really,” she smiled, caressing her fingers over the back of her neck in a nervous swipe while her and Negan went back and forth. “It says you did a really good job making it and I think you’re a fantastic baker slash cook.”

“Well thank you,” Negan chuckled while he looked her over with his hazel eyes. “If it means getting to see you smile if even for a few minutes every day, I will happily bring you anything that I make.”

“Since you’re so big on sharing you should let me try it someday,” Daryl finally spoke up when they both had seemed to forget that he was there. Negan’s smile slowly faded when his eyes pulled to Daryl’s. “I mean she was gushing about your cooking skills earlier today.”

“Absolutely Daryl, I’d loved for you to try my danish,” Negan replied with a smirk and in the moment Daryl realized how awkward the whole statement actually sounded. Y/N’s laughter filled the air and Negan looked to Y/N with an amused expression. “You’re a fucking perv missy.”

“I’m sorry, the way you just said that at him felt so suggestive,” she waved her hand in the air trying to get herself to stop laughing. Daryl was embarrassed, Negan was entertained. “You can’t tell me you didn’t say it like that to not be…suggestive as hell.”

“Daryl’s a decent looking fella, I wouldn’t be embarrassed to being suggestive with him,” Negan threw his hand up in the air and she laughed harder, her hand reaching out to place over Negan’s chest. God, she even wanted to touch Negan. When Daryl would make her laugh, she was nothing like this. “You think I’m joking? I’m not. I’m not embarrassed.”

“Well at least you’re bold and honest,” she claimed before finally looking to Daryl who seemed less than enthusiastic with everything that was going on. “Without being perverted, I think you would really like his actual danish. I was surprised it wasn’t store bought.”

“Hey now, it tastes better than the store stuff,” Negan grumbled under his breath and once again before Daryl could respond Negan had her full attention again. “You can’t compare my freshly baked goods to something you would buy at a supermarket that has been sitting there for days.”

“Oh, my mistake,” she giggled and Negan reached for her to give her a big hug in his arms after they had their playful little bickering match. God, Negan was so brave. It was something that Daryl would have never done, but she didn’t seem to hate it at all.

“Do y’all want to come over and play a game with us?” Negan pointed over toward the pool table and she looked to Daryl with big eyes. It was obvious she wanted to play, but Daryl was still at a point where he had no interest. Negan was already so much better than him at pretty much everything, he didn’t want Negan to outdo him in pool too. “We’d love to have you over there.”

“Go ahead, I’ll watch from here,” Daryl offered to her seeing that she seemed upset that Daryl didn’t want to come. “I’m kind of tired and I’m not much of a pool player. So I wouldn’t be that much fun anyways.”

“Well, why don’t you just come over there and talk with a few of the other teachers? You can be near the table while I absolutely destroy Y/N,” Negan urged Daryl to still join them and almost immediately Daryl shook his head. He didn’t want to be included in something where he would have to be up close watching the girl that he was head over heels for swooning over Negan.

“Daryl, come on,” she reached for his hands and Daryl shook his head once more. “You might actually have some fun.”

“I’m tired Y/N, you go ahead and have fun,” Daryl kept up with his answer knowing that she was disappointed, but he didn’t care. There was no changing his answer. Part of Daryl wished she would have just stayed, but when she got up from the seat, he knew that spending time with Negan was going to win out over spending time with him. “Just enjoy yourself.”

“Well you should come over there when you want,” she reached out to squeeze his shoulder before walking toward the pool table with Negan.

When they reached the other side of the bar Daryl could see the other teachers eager to talk and laugh with Y/N. For a while they just all stood around talking and Daryl knew that he was staring, but he didn’t care. Biting down on his bottom lip when Negan’s arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, he let out an upset breath and knew he should have just left.

After a while of talking, Negan tugged Y/N toward the pool table and they started playing together. Daryl was full of jealousy watching their interaction. It was obvious the two of them had a fuck ton of chemistry together. She was having a lot of fun and it was so easy for Negan to make her laugh.

Even knowing that Negan was her type made it so much more obvious to Daryl that he would never be her type. Negan was the opposite of him and he knew that. Which hurt all the more. It was best for him to just leave at his point, he wouldn’t have even been missed if he left now.

Finishing up his last drink, Daryl went to leave until he watched Y/N throw her arms up in celebration when she clearly beat Negan. Watching closely, Daryl saw the look of disappointment over Negan’s features as he moved around the pool table toward her. How close Negan got to Y/N made Daryl’s heart start to hammer inside of his chest.

Daryl’s mind was telling him to go over there and stop the interaction, but his body was frozen while Negan’s eyes were hooked on hers. Negan’s fingers stroked over the side of her face, brushing her hair behind her ear while they talked. Negan whispered something and she nodded before Negan lowered down. Tensing up, Daryl watched Negan’s lips descend over hers after he cupped her face in his hands in a tender stroke and this shit hurt more than Daryl would have thought it would.

When they parted, Negan’s head pressed up against hers and Daryl could see that it took her breath away. Negan whispered something to her while his right hand lifted with his thumb tracing over her cheek. With a smile like that, Daryl knew that Negan was sweeping her off her feet.

Daryl stepped forward when Negan grabbed a hold of her hand and led her toward the back of the bar. The rest of the group was distracted with their own discussions so the two of them were able to sneak out. Following the direction they headed, Daryl went to the backdoor and pushed it slightly open to see that they were at the back of the building.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Negan slurred, while he had her back pressed up against the brick wall. His large hands were cupping her face as they kissed over and over again. Daryl watched the two of them through the small crack in the door that he had opened. It was enough not to draw attention to him while the two made out behind the bar. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

“Negan,” she breathed out while his kisses pressed down over the side of her face and down toward her neck. Grabbing a firm hold of his thick hair, she tugged at it and made Negan stare out at her with desperation while he panted. Daryl wished that she would turn him down. “Do you…do you want to go to my place?”

“Right now?” Negan breathed against her lips and she nodded slowly. The smile that Negan gave her made an angry chill run down Daryl’s spine. “I’d love to.”

Y/N reached for Negan’s hand and led him away from the bar making Daryl want to chase after them, but he knew better. She made her choice and she wanted Negan. Badly, obviously.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Daryl went back to the bar and took his seat again where he was previously. Ordering something a little stronger, he wanted to drink away his pain knowing that he was super hurt to see how eager Y/N was to take Negan home with her.

“Where did the big man go?” a voice made Daryl grunt when Simon slid in beside him and Daryl muttered a slew of silent, angry words to himself. Suddenly so many people he had no interest in speaking to were coming up to him to talk. It irritated Daryl to say the least. When Daryl immediately took back the drink he ordered, Simon let out a long drawn out laugh. “It’s only Thursday Dixon, you might want to hold back. There is one more day of work.”

“I don’t care,” Daryl grumbled with a scowl, his blue eyes glaring at Simon. “I assume you’re talking about Negan and you’re too late. He just left with Y/N.”

“Like, they left together?” Simon was eager to get details and Daryl nodded, waving on to get another drink brought to him. “Son of a bitch! I didn’t think she would give it up that fucking fast. I got more of an innocent vibe from her.”

“What are you trying to say?” Daryl’s face scrunched up and Simon ordered a drink for himself.

“I’m saying Negan is going to win the fucking bet, that’s what I’m saying,” Simon sneered when he got the beer that he ordered. “Goddamn it.”

“What bet?” Daryl immediately questioned seeing Simon dramatically throw his head around. There was a pressure in Daryl’s head and it felt like the world stopped all together when he heard Simon say that. “What bet?”

“I made a bet with Negan that he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the new girl,” Simon informed Daryl with a long, drawn out sigh. “And evidently, I’m fucking losing which fucking sucks.”

“You guys made a bet about Negan sleeping with Y/N?” Daryl snapped, standing up from the stool that he was seated at. “What the fuck? That’s an actual person you are talking about? Someone who likes Negan…”

“Every girl likes Negan,” Simon snorted, his face scrunched up in amusement when Daryl seemed so upset. “Like I’m supposed to be surprised by that. I just thought she was your girl so it was the one time I thought I would win the bet.”

“Negan told me that he was crushing on her,” Daryl repeated what Negan had said and Simon laughed with an entertained expression when he reached for his beer again. “What?”

“You think Negan would crush on her? After losing his wife, that guy would pretty much sleep with anyone to forget the pain of losing her,” Simon cleared his throat noticing how uncomfortable that Daryl was with all of this. “There is no way that he has something for this girl other than the bet. He’s out to win it and undoubtedly, he is going to nail it. I guess I should say be saying he’s going to be nailing her.”

“Fucking asshole,” Daryl knocked into Simon as he headed for the door to leave. He didn’t know what to do with this information, but he had to stop it. Someway. He couldn’t just let Y/N get hurt like this. Why did he have to be so stupid? He should have never told Negan that it would be okay. He should have tried harder to keep them apart. This was just as much his fault for pushing the two of them together and Daryl hated himself for that.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @nubbinrobin @oreostars @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @felicity291 @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @iluvneganandjamie @ninamarietwd @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @ritajammer21 @insertneganhere @haleygreen23

#Negan #negan x reader #Daryl Dixon #The Walking Dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #negan fanfiction #twd fanfiction #Norman Reedus

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taetaespeaches · 4 years ago

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“Don’t you dare.”

yoongi x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 3.6K

a/n: Eeeek I’m so excited to finally be posting Min/Kid again!!!! A lot has happened since I last wrote for these two. You know, a shoulder surgery, release of BE, and a Grammy nomination just to list a few. Soooo all three of those are included in this. I hope you all enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading! :))

CHOPPING the celery, you hummed along with the acoustic melody resonating in the kitchen, the voices of your boyfriend and his members filling the space. The slow, sad tune was one of your favorites on the new album, but then again, you favored them all.

Looking down at your feet, you spotted the small fluffy dog staring up at you cutely. “I just wanna be happier,” you sang at the dog, “How about you, Holly?”

At hearing his name, he cocked his head at you, you smiling fondly. “Are you happy?” You continued your conversation with the pup in a tone that was higher pitched than your normal speaking voice. “What’s up? Do you want some celery?” You asked. “I don’t think you’ll like it much, bubs.”

You watched the dog for a moment longer before he got too excited, jumping up your leg causing you to giggle and relent. “Ok, ok,” you grinned, taking a small piece of the vegetable between your fingertips. Crouching down, you held it out for Holly to take, the dog carefully sniffing it. “I’m telling you, dude, you’re not gonna like it,” you told him just as he slowly grabbed the morsel from your fingers and dropped it to the floor. “Are you gonna eat it?” You questioned in surprise, both you and the dog too intrigued by the celery to notice the new kitchen visitor standing behind you.

“Is he eating celery?” Your boyfriend’s groggy voice suddenly sounded, you turning around in surprise and slight startlement.

“Shit, hi,” you greeted him, clutching your chest in fright, taking in his disheveled appearance as he had just woken up from a nap. “He’s considering,” you smiled before turning back to the dog. “I don’t think he’ll do it.”

“Holly, you’re not starving, buddy,” he told the little pup, a slight chuckle lacing the words. You listened as Yoongi’s feet shuffled closer to you, his hand suddenly finding its way to the back of your head, his fingers instantly slipping into your strands, lightly massaging your roots.

Taking his hand in yours, you brought it to your lips as you stood, leaving a light kiss to the back of it before trailing them down the bottom of his thumb and to his wrist. “How are you feeling, baby?” You asked him, the man giving you a soft close-mouthed grin that made his fluffy cheeks look even fuller.

“I feel fine,” he assured you, moving his hand in your grip to intertwine his fingers with your own as he leaned toward you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “You should have woken me up, Kid,” he whispered against your lips.

Your mouth curved upward as you shook your head, kissing him once more before stepping back from him and reluctantly separating your hand from his. “Absolutely not,” you said simply, Yoongi scoffing as he pulled his gaze from you to the dog, you following his eyes to see Holly propped up on your boyfriend’s legs. Cast to the side was the piece of celery, you giggling as Yoongi smiled in amusement.

“Do you want a real treat?” He asked the dog, you looking fondly at your boyfriend’s wide-eyed gaze as he addressed Holly in a cutesy voice. “I’ll give you a real one, none of this celery stuff,” he playfully teased you, shooting you a gummy grin.

“Hey, he asked for it,” you defended, crossing your arms over your ribcage as Yoongi made his way across the kitchen to the treat cupboard.

You observed him as he reached for a plastic container with a twist lid, however stalling when he realized it would be quite difficult to take off with one arm. Instead he reached for the bag of treats next to it, using his teeth to hold one end of the zip lock as he pulled it open.

“Here you go, Holly,” he handed the pup the treat, the dog wiggling excitedly before running off to munch in peace. “That’s why I’m his favorite,” he told you with a smug smile, your mouth opening in feigned surprise.

“You think you’re Holly’s favorite?” You asked him, the man giving you a weak shrug, given one of his shoulders was out of commission. “Aw, Min,” you cooed. “When did you get so delusional, old man?”

Yoongi chuckled at you as he turned back to the bag of treats, a focus overtaking his face as he struggled to reseal it with one hand. Of course you felt for the man, having undergone a shoulder surgery in the recent weeks, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t amusing to watch him pout in frustration at a bag of dog treats. And you only became fonder when he finally sealed it, a quiet hum of satisfaction leaving his lips before turning to catch your gaze, you holding back a grin as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Everything is so much more difficult,” he whined in embarrassment, you allowing yourself to lightly laugh at his expense.

“You’re so cute though,” you complimented, the man grunting at the comment as he looked to the cutting board.

“What can I help with?” He asked you, you shooting him a glare.

“You can help by keeping me company,” you told him sternly. “Sit here and chat with me, I missed you today.”

Opening his mouth to contend your command, you held up your hand to him. “Don’t argue with me, I’ll stop helping you put your pants on,” you teased him, Yoongi letting out a silent laugh paired with his adorable gummy grin.

“That’s just cruel,” he joked back just before taking a seat across from you at the kitchen island. “Maybe I’ll just stop wearing pants then,” he suggested.

“Now who’s being cruel?” You questioned with a smirk, enjoying the amusement displayed on your boyfriend’s features. Picking the knife up, you continued chopping up vegetables as Yoongi watched you carefully. “How was therapy this morning?”

“I’m so tired,” he chuckled at himself as you pouted and cooed. “It was fine though,” he nodded.

“Good,” you grinned. “You better not be pushing yourself too hard,” you warned, Yoongi letting out a light laugh.

“I want to get back out there,” he noted, a small knowing smile forming on your lips. “I want to be ready to perform this album when we’re able,” he added, nodding to your phone as ‘Telepathy’ sounded through the speaker.

“And you will be ready,” you assured him, “as long as you pace yourself.”

“Yes ma’am,” he teased, you trying to hold back your smile but failing. “Have you picked a favorite yet?” He asked, referring to your favorite track on his group’s new album.

“I’ve always had a favorite,” you told him as you started lightly grooving to the upbeat track.

“This one?” He asked in surprise, making you roll our eyes as you started dancing more and singing along. “Wow,” he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you just saying this to make me feel good since I’m all laid up?” He asked, you giggling at the question.

“You’re so annoying,” you told him through your chuckle, reaching for a piece of celery and lightly tossing it at him. The piece of vegetable made contact with his cheek and he pulled a dramatic expression of shock, his mouth open as he playfully gasped. “Of course I’m just saying that to make you feel good,” you teased, Yoongi laughing breathily as he popped the piece of celery into his mouth.

“Thank you anyway,” he smiled softly as you let out a breathy laugh. You both watched each other for a moment, your eyes traveling each other’s faces before your gazes connected, Yoongi only holding contact for a second until quickly averting his orbs to the countertop.

Smiling to yourself, you placed the knife to the stone, the sound of metal clinking against the hard surface piquing Yoongi’s interest enough for him to look at the blade. As you began walking around the counter toward your boyfriend, his eyes found your hips, dragging up your frame, landing on your grin.

“The song is amazing,” you assured him seriously. “And I think this might be my favorite of your guys’ albums.”

“Really?” He asked curiously, his eyes widened as he studied your expression, replaying the words in his head to scrutinize your tone. You simply nodded as you slotted yourself between his legs, your hand meeting the back of his neck as you lightly played with the ends of his dark brown hair.

“And speaking as a fan,” you told him, dipping your head to catch his eyes. “I know all the other fans loving it as well.”

Flashing you a honey boy smile as his cheeks tinted pink, you leaned down to press a sweet kiss to their plushness. “You did good, Honey Boy,” you complimented, a breathy chuckle sounding from the man as he relaxed in your touch, dropping his forehead to your sternum, leaving a light kiss to your chest through your shirt.

“Thank you,” he whispered shyly. He sometimes had a hard time vocalizing it, but your opinion meant everything to him.

Running your hands through the back of his hair, you shook your head. “Thank you,” you countered.

“For what?” He asked wrapping an arm around your waist, allowing his fingers to lightly trace indistinct patterns against your side.

“For inspiring me daily,” you told him, the man looking up at you with an expression of adorable surprise, making you smile and lean down to kiss his soft lips fondly. “With your talent and hard work and openness to express your vulnerabilities. I know there’s a lot of people out there who appreciate it, but don’t forget that I’m one of them,” you informed him, the man taking a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

Leaving a kiss to the tip of his nose, you trailed them up the bridge until your lips met his forehead, leaving a series of pecks against his warm skin. “What’s on your mind, Min?” You whispered before placing another kiss to his hair. Probably a lot. A major shoulder surgery, a new album, Grammy nominations coming, you were sure it was busy inside his head.

“How lucky I am to have you,” he revealed shyly but boldly, you nearly cooing instantly. “And how much I hate this fucking shoulder right now because I can’t just grab you and take you right here like I want to,” he partially joked. Oh jesus christ.

“Oh my god,” you laughed, lightly slapping his uninjured arm. “You know what? I’ve settled on what your three best skills are.”

“What are they?” He asked, pulling you the slightest bit closer as he smirked at you.

“Rapping, producing, and ruining cute moments,” you told him, the man immediately laughing as he pulled a feigned thinking face.

“Kind of thought rocking your world was gonna be one but I’ll take it,” he replied, you groaning as you pulled out of his grasp.

“Have I told you you’re annoying?” You teased, leaning toward him to steal a quick kiss before stepping away from him, the man slowly chasing after your lips as you backed away, reaching for you with his functional arm only to shoot you a pout when you returned to the other side of the island.

“Of course you have,” he smiled.

“Good,” you said simply, wearing a fond grin as you returned to cooking.

“You’re so cute in your pj’s,” you cooed as you helped button his top, preparing to get into bed. You had finished eating dinner earlier in the night and Yoongi had helped you with dishes by rinsing them with his one functional arm. “I should get a matching pair, how adorable would that be?” You teased, Yoongi shooting you a look of disgust. “What is that face? It would be cute,” you defended playfully, only for your boyfriend to hold the expression as if you committed an atrocity. “Stop it, don’t pretend like you hate the idea.”

“I do hate the idea,” he defended weakly, hiding a smile.

“Oh whatever, I know you, Min,” you reminded him with a glare, the man huffing as you giggled, securing the last button on his pajama top. “Ok,” you lightly patted the right side of his chest after securing the final button. “All done.”

“Thanks,” he breathed out, watching as you reached for his shoulder brace. “I can put it on, Kid,” he told you, causing you to pause and stare at him. The two of you had been playfully fighting for weeks over taking care of him. The thing was, you both enjoyed you doting on the man a bit.

“I want to,” you pouted, Yoongi giving you a soft smile. Smirking in victory, you wiggled your hips happily just before you began placing his arm in the sling, Yoongi scoffing as he smiled.

As you adjusted the straps, ensuring his shoulder would be as comfortable and secure as possible, Yoongi watched you carefully. Fondly. When your eyes found his, catching him staring, he cleared his throat to play if off with an act of nonchalance.

“You know,” he started, determined to set your mind on something other than the fact that he had been staring at you with the softest smile you’d ever seen. “I’m beginning to get used to you waiting on me all the time,” he joked, you biting back a smile as you shook your head.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned him, pulling up on the velcro to resituate the strap.

“What?” He feigned innocence, his eyes widened with his lips secured in a small pout. You allowed yourself to smile as you let out a forced scoff to cover your amusement.

“Don’t you dare get used to it,” you told him sternly as he laughed silently, thoroughly amused and smitten. “You know what, just for that you can tuck yourself into bed,” you teased, walking away from him, Yoongi looking at you in pretend shock.

“Kid,” he whined with a smile as he watched you crawl under the covers, leaving the grown man to fend for himself.

Opening your laptop, you kept your eyes in a glare as Yoongi shuffled to the bed, staring at you with a pout as you resisted the urge to smile. “Stop looking at me, Min,” you told him, your straight face breaking as he chuckled, you giggling as you pulled up the Grammys website.

Carefully but lacking grace, Yoongi crawled into bed next to you and looked over your shoulder at the screen. “What time are they announcing nominations?”

“Um,” you looked at the time, doing the math in your head. “Should be around 2 or 3 am, so a couple hours. Do you want to get some sleep and set an alarm? Or do you want to wait up?” You asked, looking at him, reading the nervousness in his features instantly.

A soft smile overtook your face as he breathed out slowly. “Uh, I think wait up,” he nodded to himself. “Yeah, wait up.”

“Ok, baby,” you nodded back. His eyes were glued to the screen, and more specifically the gramophone displayed in the top left corner. You knew he wanted this. It was the highest honor a musician could receive for their work, so of course the boys wanted that. And you couldn’t think of anyone more deserving. Even when you stripped back all of the hard work and hardships, the years of struggles for credibility and spotlight under a new company with no money, defying the odds and breaking through as a worldwide act, the music was still amazing. The music is what gave you the intuitive confidence to assure your boyfriend that he had nothing to worry about. “You’re going to get nominated,” you assured him sincerly. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, his eyes slowly leaving the screen to meet your face, his cheeks looking plush and kissable in the glow of the computer monitor.

“Yeah,” you nodded, reaching for his face, gently placing your palm to his cheek, simply because you just had to feel their fluffiness on your fingertips. “And if you don’t, I’ll start drafting a letter to the recording academy immediately to scold them for committing the biggest snub in Grammys history,” you joked. Your lame humor was met with a highly amused gummy grin and an adorable shy giggle as he turned his face into your hand to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Between me and Army, just imagine all the scathing articles the recording academy will be met with,” you added, Yoongi chuckling further, the sound of his laughter making your belly feel warm and content.

“Well hopefully we’re nominated,” he said through his light laughter. “For two reasons,” he clarified, you raising your eyebrows curiously. “You’re scary when mad and also that would be very embarrassing to have my girlfriend send a letter to the recording academy on my group’s behalf,” he laughed more, you joining him as your hand slid to the side of his neck.

“Well then, they better nominate you,” you agreed just as Holly jumped onto the bed, nuzzling next to yours and Yoongi’s legs, both of you shooting fond grins at the little pup.

You weren’t sure what time it was but the grogginess in your mind told you it was much too early to be awake yet. So why were you?

“Kid,” a hushed whisper sounded next to you, you groaning in response. “Kid, wake up, baby,” the voice sounded again.

“Hmm?” You hummed, still too tired to peel your eyes open.

“We fell asleep,” Yoongi told you, you humming again. “Kid, the nominations have been announced.”

At that statement, your eyes popped open, your hazy gaze searching for Yoongi. Blinking the sleep away, you squinted at your boyfriend as your eyes adjusted to being open. His face coming into clarity in the early morning hours, you studied his features, preparing to either celebrate or console. With a racing heart, you watched as his lips curved into a massive gummy smile, and tears pricked your eyes instantly.

“Oh my god,” you whispered huskily.

“We’re nominated for a Grammy,” he told you, the words hitting you with the force of reality causing you to shoot up from the covers startling Holly as you did so, the dog looking at you in confusion.

“Oh my god, Yoongi,” you squealed, standing on your knees as you lightly bounced, trying to be careful not to create too much motion that you would hurt his shoulder, pumping your arms in the air gleefully. Holly jumped up, hopping against you for a moment. “Oh my god,” you screamed excitedly, Yoongi laughing as he let out a happy excited yell of his own. Holly leaped onto Yoongi’s lap, barking at the commotion, unaware that he was partaking in a celebration. “Yoongi, oh my fucking god,” you yelled once more through Yoongi’s own excited squealing as he pet the dogs face giddily.

Showing you his phone, you skimmed through his group chat with the boys, the photo of the nomination taking center stage, the texts full of yells of excitement making you smile widely. Another squeal left you as you dropped the phone and placed your hands to the sides of Yoongi’s face, Holly deciding to settle on your empty side of the bed next to you and Yoongi. “Baby, you’re nominated for a Grammy,” you told him, the words fully hitting Yoongi as it sunk in for the first time. You watched as his eyes became glassy, emotion overwhelming the man.

Crawling closer to your boyfriend, you placed yourself on his lap and wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, careful not to make contact with his recovering shoulder. Yoongi instantly rested his head against your shoulder and it didn’t take long to hear sniffles as he body shook, the man crying into the fabric of your pajama top.

“Oh, you did it, Min,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head a few times quickly as your fingers comfortingly toyed with his strands at the nape of his neck. “I’m so proud of you,” you spoke into his hair, the man’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you firmly against his side as he continued to cry.

The two of you sat like that for a moment, the only sounds coming from you both being his silent sobs and your occasional kisses to his head and the whispered compliment on how deserving he was. There’s a special kind of happiness you feel when the people you love achieve a certain level of happiness themselves. And well, Yoongi was really happy in that moment. And you loved him more than anyone.

Eventually, his tears slowed and he looked up to you, finding you smiling down at him with your own lash closed to the brink of overflowing emotion. “Not to brag but,” you stared playfully, “I did tell you that you’d be nominated,” you teased, Yoongi chuckling as he craned his neck uncomfortably to find your lips. Watching you be so happy and supportive of him, he couldn’t quite relay his gratitude for you through words. He needed to show you.

Happily, you kissed him back, the meeting full of passion and love. The kiss was an act of sharing and relaying pride and excitement and relief and thankfulness, and just all the intense emotions hitting you both in that moment. It was slow but meaningful, the kiss full of intent but frantic and messy. It was perfect.

When he pulled away just slightly, he took a shaky breath, letting out a single breathy laugh of disbelief. “The recording academy must have felt the energy of your threat,” he joked, you shaking your head with a fond smile.

“Nah uh,” you told him. “This was all you guys.” Yoongi took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you wiped under his eyes gently, ridding him of his tears. “You deserve this, Yoongi,” you assured him.

“I love you,” he told you as a soft honey boy smile graced his face.

Leaning down once again, you kissed his lips softly. “I love you too,” you whispered against his mouth. “My Grammy nominated Honey Boy,” you smiled, Yoongi chuckling as he connected his lips to yours once again.

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years ago

Text

Right Back Where You Started

[Masky/Timothy Wright X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight blood, slight violence, language]

[AN: Four of my OC's are in here! This was also requested from a friend a while ago.]

The beauty about being able to live a life outside of murdering people and being at the whim of a monster that fancies itself as a god is a variety of your own accord.

For instance, you can wake up whenever you feel like, take a job wherever there’s openings, meet new people and not have to bash their brains in just for asking about your life and only need to pick up a blade to cut food or occasionally packages you impulsively bought on the nights that feel like too much and not enough all in one. You can breathe and not worry about inky black tendrils crushing your throat for doing so without his permission. You’re able to sleep at night knowing that no higher up in your group will attempt to kill you in an act of proxy related hazing. You can clear your mind temporarily of the thoughts of what may come next in trade for semi-normalcy even though you know those thoughts won’t go away anytime soon. The weight of what you’d done was too much to bear, and Atlas can only disappear for so long.

When you first decided to betray your boss, the tall man in the woods, the faerie that steals children away, you acted on impulse. It was an impulse that was born from being all too exhausted with risking your life, committing sin upon sin and other terrible, no good things that should ever be uttered. The decision you made on impulse had no foresight or planning, and when you decided to run, you ran as far and as hard as you could away from him. Away from them. Away from it all. Of course, you know there were going to be repercussions for running like so few others did.

The ire of the Slender Man being the worst.

Most days, you try not to think of him. There’s no point - well, maybe there is a healthy fear you still have - but to worry yourself into a stupor would be silly now. You’ve been free of him for a year. He hasn’t sent you any signs, nor has he sent anyone… Maybe you weren’t important enough to set him off like some of the others had.

These are the things you like to think about as you sit on your couch watching the late night news that’s barely audible as you scroll through your phone. You never really did like the total silence an empty house provides. There’s a simmer cup of tea on the coffee cup and a few snacks laid out that you have little plans of eating while you relax and enjoy the midsummer night. Outside, you can hear crickets sing and cicadas accompany them. It’s peaceful, and while your mind would like to think of it as such, you can’t ignore the ringing in the back of your head. Things have been pleasant, too pleasant. There’s bound to be a storm due to roll in.

Still, you try not to think of these things, and instead focus on the content that scrolls in and out of your vision. It’s nothing particularly interesting, but helps get your mind off the things that often keep you up. And you continue to sit there on the couch, wrapped up in a light blanket to combat your AC as the hours of the night tick by. Your mind is completely off of really, any higher cognitive thought, when you hear something. It’s soft, low, sounds like two, maybe three people and they’re out in the distance. Must just be stumbling onto the borders of your ‘farm’.

See, the funny thing about trying to integrate into normal human life is that you physically can’t. You can follow all their customs, get into their society, look like them, but you’ll never be fully human. You want to know why? Proxies can never go back to what they used to be. They’re forever changed, and no force on heaven of earth can ever get rid of that. He can take your memory and dump you on the side of the road, but your biology has forever been changed. In most cases, it’s a nice thing to have: faster healing, better pain tolerance, heightened senses, and a better sense of problem solving than most people. Other days, it’s a hindrance for reasons you can’t quite explain. Some call it Slender Sickness, and the only way to remedy it is to be under the tall man’s care.

Because you’re not, you’ve found other ways to remedy the sickness he inflicts on practically everything he touches. Pills. You find them in odd, strange places, but they get the job done. So long as you have them, you can be free of his grasp and his connection.

But goddamn, the hearing is mostly a hindrance. On the account of you living on the edge of a college town, you’ve got land and are surrounded by farmer’s fields. You heat it all- critters in the night, teens messing with the patches, arguments, sometimes crimes, and it keeps you up at night. That’s a downside to not having him in your life- he’s not there to dampen its effects when it becomes too much. However, in this specific instance, your heightened hearing is a blessing.

The feeling in your gut only furls together tighter as you hear the three strolling down your dirt road. They’re close, much too close. You know that they’re here for you.

Frantically, you jump off the couch and start to damage control by making the place look like no one inhabits it. The TV and lights are turned off, the mug emptied of its contents, snacks put away and other leads buried. Your heart pounds a mile a minute - you know that if he finds you, it’s all over.

He’ll kill you - the Slender Man is not known for his mercy.

You feel like a chicken with its head cut off as you look around the house for weapons before settling on the kitchen knife. It’s cliché and reminds you of someone you once heard whispers about, but it’s all you can think of in this moment. When you left this life, you left the physical parts of it as well. All your gear, weapons, they’re hidden in a place that’s too risky for you to even attempt getting. Armed with the kitchen knife, you debate running out the back or hiding, then running. You always were good at staying out of sight, hiding it is.

Your eyes dart to the basement door and you slip through right as you hear the three outside your front door. There’s a window that opens in the direction of the town. If you slip out of it, you’ll be able to get a good headtstart through the field. The moment you start booking it down the stairs, you hear your front door get blown open.

“Wallace, what do you think?” You hear a male’s voice ask.

“Someone’s been in here recently,” a deeper male voice responds - must be Wallace, eyeing over your living room.

In the darkness, you quietly maneuver the crowded, cluttered basement, mentally cursing you left your phone upstairs in your haste.

“It feels like someone’s been in here,” Wallace’s voice continues. You can practically hear him smelling the air. “Ruth, tell Nyein to sniff this one out.”

You hear boots scuff against your wooden floor and stop somewhere in the doorway. “You could always just ask them yourself,” the female voice identified as Ruth verbally shrugs. She clicks her tongue, and you hear even more steps. How many of these people are there? You hope it’s just four. That’s a well sized group, come to think of it. “Ny, can you please sniff this one out? Seems like they’ve done a good job at scent covering.”

A beat of silence passes.

“Don’t give us any attitude,” the first male voice hisses slightly. “Do what you’re told-”

“Theo,” Wallace sharply reprimands.

You hear Theo sigh right as you reach the window. You pray to whatever deity will have you that it won’t squeak or make any loud noises, but the thing hasn’t been opened in gods know how long. You use the blade to lightly cut through the layers of off-white paint before the window is free. You mentally smile before attempting to lift it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Nyein got your scent. Their pupils dilate upon realizing you’re the one the Slender Man has requested alive. You hear someone rapidly padding to the basement.

Panic fills your veins as you struggle to get the window open, not even caring that it’s making all the noise in the world. You need to get out!

“She padlock this thing?” You hear Ruth ask before she grunts. The door can’t hold them back forever.

You frantically push up on the window - it's a quarter open, not near enough for you to slip through. Shit, shit, shit! You need to go NOW.

“Jesus- just break it already,” Wallace sighs.

A few more grunts and you hear the wood splinter. You hear them descending the steps quickly.

“There!” Theo points.

You hold your breath and push the window up with all your strength before hosting yourself up.

“Shit! Out the front! Ny, keep on her,” Wallace commands as he smacks Ruth and Theo’s shoulder, the two quickly following him up the stairs.

You begin to shimmy out the narrow window as the being called ‘Nyein’ eyes you down. You don’t think you’ve ever seen an independent like that before. They look absolutely feral, and the scent of you has them locked on your crawling form.

Their eyes narrow, teeth bared, and they quickly lunge across the space for you, right as your legs reach the windowsill.

You cry out in surprise as their clawed hand digs into your ankle, drawing blood you know you can’t afford to worry about.

“Get off!” You shout in retaliation, kicking at their face. Freed, you begin to sprint into the field.

Nyein snarls and crawls out the window as well, running after you with a speed that has you on edge. You continue to run. Behind you, you can hear the other three quickly gaining on you as well. How badly does the Slender Man want you? Your lungs light on fire as they chase you through the field. Soon, you’ll be hitting the small stretch of trees before you reach the town. With other people, you’ll have a better chance at being safe. But the stretch of woods is an awful mess of brush and loose soil. You can’t afford to misstep now.

You take in a deep breath as you hurl into the small stretch of trees, all too aware of the proxies and independent that are hot on your trail. In the back of your head, you can tell they’re tired of you. Good. They should be. You narrowly avoid twisted roots and piles of mud and grow closer and closer to other people.

It’s so close that you can almost touch it.

Lost in your thoughts and too tunnel visioned in on reaching the town, you fail to recognize the steel jaw trap in the darkness and send your shoe right on it. It clamps down, bites, and holds you. You screech and fall forward, careening into the forest floor. The pain in your leg is absolutely agonizing, and you claw at it in vain to free yourself as your pursuers close in on you.

“Gave us quite the chase, Reader,” Wallace says with a slight scowl as he crouches a healthy distance from you. “Should let you rot here,” he muses. You can’t see his face both from the darkness of the night and the fact he’s wearing a mask, but you can tell he’s upset.

“Or let Ny eat her. Been a while since they’ve last had anything,” Theo adds on, glaring at you through the eyeholes of his mask that’s the head of a pig.

“He said he wanted her alive,” Ruth chimes in, a sigh in her tone. “She’s already fucked herself up enough, let’s not rub salt in the wounds.”

“Put her to sleep then,” Wallace shrugs.

You look up at these people like a caged animal, your eyes narrowing and slightly watering at the pain of the steel jaw trap. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to the earth subconsciously as Nyein eyes you like a prize.

\ They reach their hand out to touch you before you smack them away. Their snarl, their eyes traveling down to your ankle where the blood smells the strongest.

“Do it before they eat her,” The deep voiced man says again. “Though, last I checked, Ny doesn’t eat proxies.”

“She’s a traitor, not a proxy,” Ruth lightly corrects, her gaze alone shushing you from making any noise.

Not wanting to work yourself up, you settle for cursing them under your breath.

Without any other words, Ruth comes up to you, resting her boot on your chest to keep you down. You attempt to grab at her leg, throw her off balance, but she’s stronger than you on account of still being an active proxy. Her dark eyes scan you up and down before she reaches into her back pocket. “Take a deep breath for me,” she murmurs before smacking the rag to your mouth and nose.

You flail about, screaming and cursing before reluctantly taking that breath.

“... Thank you, you’ve done well. Head out to - yes, that’s right, Theo - head there and I will give you further instruction.”

You blearily come to on the carpet of an office you hoped you’d never be back in. The smell of jasmine and incense hangs in the air. You hear a door shut and catch the boots of the people who brought you back to him leave the room. He must be sending them out to their next assignment; it’s probably some poor other bastard that won’t escape like you did. You take in a few timid breaths and allow the light to filter in.

There he is, your boss. He stands in front of you like a god. He has no face, but you can tell he’s more than upset.

“Miss Reader, what a pleasure,” he says in a deep, authoritarian tone.

On instinct, you feel yourself shrinking.

“Really?” He muses, inky black tendrils sprouting from his back. “You have the nerve to run from me, suppress me, and now you do this? You dare show your submission?” He hisses. The tendrils move like bolts of electricity as they wrap around your exhausted, terrified form.

You cringe as the tendrils take over every part of you, squeezing as if they’re threatening to break your bones if you so much as breathe out of turn. Tears well in your eyes as you remember the fear you used to feel rushing back and overloading your senses.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” he spits as the tendril wrapped around your neck begins to constrict. You notice his body language bristle as he looks at you longer. “I could pop your eyeballs out of your sockets. I could tear you limb for limb,” the Slender Man continues like it’s nothing.

You feel nothing but malice radiate off his form. It’s heat that singes your very soul. “S-Sir,” you gasp out. “Why would you b-bring me here just to k-kill me?” You attempt to reason, eyes watering and vision going fuzzy. You weakly attempt to use your fingers as a barrier between the constrictor and you. You can’t take this low oxygen any longer - not with him physically inhibiting you.

A cold chuckle reverbates in your head while the vision of wolf’s teeth smile at you, as if they’re ready to snap. “You always were smart,” he notes, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “I could rip your head from your shoulders and it would make none of the difference.”

“Answer my observation,” you weakly cough out before he holds you tighter. You struggle to move your limbs. Your blood feels hot.

“Masky,” he suddenly calls out, hand gesturing to his office doors.

You’re barely able to move your head and settle on shifting your eyes instead to those large, oak doors as they open just a crack.In slips a man in a tan coat. He’s got dark hair, bags under his eyes, and he looks exhausted - more exhausted than you feel. He doesn’t look at you but instead focuses on the Slender Man.

“Sir,” he greets, bowing his head slightly in reverence.

The Slender Man hums, clearly pleased. You see the wolf’s jaws smile in your mind’s eye.

“Reader, you will be under his care now,” the Slender Man says. “If you successfully spend half a year at his side, I will reconsider tearing you apart.” He says it so nonchalantly that you feel chills run up and down your spine.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you oppose me?” The Slender Man asks. “I am being more than generous, aren’t I?”

“Don’t take this offer for granted,” you hear Masky quietly add. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you can hear Masky telling you not to push him too far.

Hesitantly, you nod, voice too weak to say anything physically.

The Slender Man’s tendrils suddenly retract from you, sending you roughly to the carpeted floor.

You yelp as you come into contact with the carpet and slowly gather yourself as you try to push down the aches and pains that bloom on your joints and shins that hit the ground particularly hard. You cough a bit as air returns to your lungs and struggle to stand.

“Do what you must,” the Slender Man waves off, turning his back to both you and Masky.

Masky finally breaks from his stance and moves quickly to your side to help you up.

At first, you try to smack his hand away, but upon realizing you’re too weak to even see straight, accept his hand and his arm when you’re standing upright. He smells of cigarettes and some out of date cologne. It’s not bad.

The two of you hobble out of the Slender Man’s office with Masky’s eyes never leaving your form. After all, you are his responsibility now. He continues to lead you through a mansion you’ve grown to despise and out into the warm summer morning. The Slender Man could never imitate the beauty of earth to its entirety, that much was apparent.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a rough voice, attempting in vain to clear it by coughing.

“Stop that,” Masky sighs as the two of you cross the lawn. “To the parking lot, getting in the car, then driving across the border to Mississippi. We’ve got a temp there,” he murmurs. “You good?” He’s mentally wondering why your healing hasn’t damage controlled this yet. Probably the boss still being mad at you is the best reason he can come up with.

“Do I look like I’m good?” You dryly respond, eyes squinting slightly as the fog begins to kick up. You know you’re reaching the end of his reach. Once the fog clears up almost as quickly as it appeared, you realize the Slender Man’s practically kicked you both out of his realm. The walk was always longer when you truly were his. He must be severely pissed off at you. In a way, you’re lucky he didn’t kill you from the get go.

It’s best not to dwell on that thought though.

The rest of the walk is quiet and you’re in the car before you can count to 100 (your numbers are very jumbled though). You slide into the passenger seat and feel a little better at being able to rest.

Masky slides into the driver’s seat and sighs as he grips the wheel. “You have any questions, you ask them now in the car. I’m not putting up with your bullshit when we get to the temp.”

You roll your eyes and look out the window. “Who are you?”

“Masky, you heard him,” he’s pulling out of the parking lot and mentally thanking the gods he wasn’t killed alongside you. When the boss is in such a questionable mood, there’s no telling what’ll happen.

“You know damn well what I meant,” you cough slightly.

Masky scoffs before reaching into the backseat for a moment. His fingertips brush a water bottle, and upon realizing that’s what it is, grasps it and then tosses it to you.

You nod and take a sip, mentally frowning that the water’s been heated in the morning summer sun.

“I’m a group leader. Probably haven’t heard of us though, we’re not terribly monumental,” he begins as he flicks the turn signal on. “You’ve got three other people to watch out for. Hoodie, he’s the right hand, Toby, he’s essentially our middle child, and Kate. You’re replacing her and the hazing process will start up,” he finishes, now matching pace with the other cars that sparsely decorate the expressway.

You pout slightly and press your lips into a thin line as you gaze out the window at the rolling scenery. You’ve been here before. You’ve brought people back here this exact way before. They’re all unwanted memories. In response, your body language becomes unreadable.

This does not go unnoticed by Masky. “Yeah the attitude isn't gonna work,” he says as he glances over at you. “C’mon, you’ve been through this process before. We all have - what gives?”

With a sigh, you flick your eyes over to him to gauge his mood. He seems genuinely curious. “You do know that I ran away for a reason, right?”

Masky nods. “Sure, it was stupid though.” He takes a hand off the wheel for a moment to open his window. “What did you think would happen?” Sounds like he’s trying to pick at your brain.

“Anything but this,” you gesture angrily to your current situation. “I hoped to never see him again,” you groan, clearly frustrated. You chug some more water.

Masky breathes out slightly, as if he’s judging your answers. “Whatever. Forget about pulling something like that again because I’ll personally come after you if it comes to that,” he claims in a tone that’s far too serious.

You roll your eyes slightly, “sure, like you’ll-”

His eyes shift on the expressway, and after ensuring there’s no one that’ll cause a pile up on behalf of him, he hits the brakes, sending you lurching forward into the dashboard.

“What the hell?” You cry out in an exasperated tone, struggling to peel yourself up from the dashboard. You cry out in shock again as you feel his hand at the back of your head, successfully grinding your skull into the heated polyvinyl chloride.

“Get that thought of your fucking head,” he hisses, raising your head slightly before smacking it back down.

You growl back and relent. Once the pressure from his arm is gone, you shove him off of you. The car picks up pace again and you notice him wave to a person who passes by - they have a mildly concerned expression - and he smiles like he didn’t just slam your skull into PVC.

Welcome back to the proxy life.

You make it to Mississippi by mid afternoon. Masky brings the car down some dirt path where a house lays right on the Mississippi river, and you can smell traces of blood. They must’ve cleared the previous residents out.

There, on the porch in a muscle tee holding a can of coke is a man with his left cheek missing. He twitches slightly as he waves at you and Masky.

“T-This her?”

Masky nods.

“Can’t b-believe she g-g-gave Wallace’s g-g-group the s-slip,” he says in a slightly amused, slightly annoyed tone.

“Word travels that fast?” Masky replies with a slight chuckle.

The proxy before you nods with a small smile, “c’mon. I wanna g-g-get out of this h-heat. It’s a-a-awful out here,” he says with a playful grimace as he slowly rises from the front step where he had been sitting.

“Is Kate happy?” Masky asks as he watches Toby head in, then nods for you to go.

With a small frown, you do so. At least it’s air conditioned.

“Over the moon,” a feminine voice cuts in from the kitchen. She’s stirring a thing of lemonade.

Masky smiles slightly and takes a seat at the table. “We weren’t that bad,” Masky notes as Kate slides a glass of lemonade to the group leader.

She raises a brow at Toby who glances down to his open pop can. “So, this is the one he wanted alive for this term?” She questions as she glances at you, silently asking if you’d like some.

You mouth a ‘please’ before getting comfortable at the table.

“Weirdly, yeah,” Masky replies before taking a languid sip. “Thought he was gonna go for someone with more street cred, but, whatever. She’s our problem now,” he shrugs.

You look down into the pastel yellow liquid and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance. All of this, it was wrong. You hadn’t had to play by proxy rules in a year, and here you were, bottom of the rung, the runt. You hadn’t been a runt in gods know how long.

Conversation begins to flow between the three people around you as glasses of lemonade are poured. You sit in silence, listening because you know it’s not your place to speak. As far as proxy culture goes, you don’t really have any rights. Well, you’re in a better place than independents, but according to other proxies, you’re a glorified errand boy. They say to jump and you’re supposed to ask ‘how high?’ Your group’s word becomes gospel.

Apparently, Kate was this group’s runt before you came in. But, runts only stay runts for a certain amount of time. It’s possible for groups to not have runts - and that’s essentially what this group was doing. Kate had outgrown her runt status and was well considered the youngest (in experience) member of their group but had the same social standing as Toby. While it was a joke to refer to her as a runt, they hadn’t had one for a while.

That’s where you come in. You’re the first member to be considered a runt in quite some time. And you can tell they’ve been itching to take it out on someone.

“Where’s Hoodie?” Masky asks as his fingertips trace the lip of his glass. “Should be thrilled to see we’ve got another one.”

“Only t-thing holding h-him back from h-hurting you is the f-f-f-fact the O-Operator asked f-f-for us to t-take her,” Toby giggles slightly as he crushes another pop can. “He’s h-h-handling something, Should be c-c-coming back now, though.”

“Speak of the devil and the devil will appear,” you hear another man’s voice chuckle as the front door swings gently open.

Standing in the doorway holding a crowbar and wearing a white t-shirt is Hoodie - sans hoodie. It’s much too hot to be wearing one anyways. He haphazardly tosses the crowbar to the floor before closing the front door behind him, then begins walking towards the kitchen.

“This is her?” He asks as he takes a seat next to Masky, silently thanking Kate for the lemonade.

“Disappointing, right?” Kate lightly jokes, making Hoodie smile.

“In this form, sure,” Hoodie observes as his hazel eyes rake over your form. “She looks weak, scrawny, low endurance, probably forgot all her skills, what, with her being missing for a year?” He says it like it’s a game but looks at you like he despises you. “Not training her. Not my problem, and especially not in this heat.”

“She’s part of our group,” Masky replies in a slightly exasperated tone.

“No-Nose goes,” Toby suddenly blurts out.

Everyone presses their index to their nose except for Masky, who sighs dejectedly.

“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “Let’s go, Reader. You’ve been awfully quiet.” The brown haired man says in a less than pleased tone, picking his glass up and momentarily pausing to place it in the sink.

You quietly follow in suit, nodding to your other comrades before following him out.

The nice thing about waiting for Hoodie to stir things up was that it was the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, and a breeze was beginning to shift through the air. It wasn’t near as hot due the sun no longer beating down on you. Besides, it was nice to get out of the house for a bit.

Masky and his group must have been staying here for a while, because he walked into the woods on this deer path like it was nothing and led you to a clearing. There were a few training things, but nothing of any substance - just a temporary fix until they were somewhere more permanent. Proxies are nomadic, after all.

“You still have a knife on you?”

“I would’ve stabbed you with it.”

He shoots you a look as if to tell you to watch your mouth and you holds your hands up.

“I’m joking,” you defend. “When I meant I wanted to never look back, I truly, deep down to my bones, meant it.”

Masky’s hand goes to his belt loop where he takes out a knife. It’s… severely dulled. Looks like he doesn’t trust you just yet.

“See that dummy? Show me what you remember and I’ll decide if we’re out here until midnight or not.”

The dummy in question looks gods awful. It’s missing an arm, the stuffing is all over the grass, and the poor thing looks like it can’t support its own weight anymore. You wonder which one of your comrades got it to this state of if this was a group effort.

You narrow your eyes and get a hold of the blade in your grasp. It’s much nicer than a kitchen knife - reminds you of what you used to use when you were but a shadow in the night. You glance at him, then the dummy, and decide to get to work.

There’s no use in running. The Slender Man will hunt you down regardless, and he won’t be as merciful the second time around.

“Stop stalling,” Masky chides.

You take in a breath, and do as told.

To say six months passed with ease would be a lie. It’s been six months of hell - and that’s mostly because you’re a runt paired with the fact you never wanted to be back here to begin with.

It’s been strange, you’ll give it that. The proxy in you took over faster than the human side of you could and you integrated back into proxy culture and society far easier than anyone expected. Of course, there were some moments where your group members would ruffle your feathers and put you in your place, but that was expected. To be a proxy is to be put under fire until you prove yourself otherwise.

You’ve gone on operations with them. Took lives again. Stole things again. You settled back into the life you originally left behind as if you’d never departed to begin with. That’s how deep the proxy mindset and muscle memory is embedded into those it takes hold of. It sets itself out to be the only thing you’ll ever know. You live by it, you die by it.

So, where have you been for the past six months? Well, still in Mississippi. About two weeks after you first arrived with your new group, you and the group moved down south near the ocean and have been staying there the entire time. Luckily, this place was considered a temp house for the people who owned it - they liked spending time in Europe - which left this place as yours. Besides, the Slender Man likes having you close. He was able to periodically check in on you with you being a few hours away as opposed to days. Why he was so interested in you, you’ll never know.

According to both him, and Masky, you’d been making good progress. By the end of your six months (lovingly referred to as a “trial run” by your group), you were half way back to what you used to be. It was disheartening to only hear “half” but it was better than nothing. A part of you wonders why you’re so inclined to get better when you should be focusing on leaving.

It’s not like you didn’t try.

You tried so many times that your group started a tally board and whoever found you first got a mark under their name. Whoever hit five before the board was reset got the next operation (or operation of their choosing) off. For the first few weeks when you were but a stranger with them, the punishments were harsh and unforgiving, like they hate you to your core. But, as the months went on, they went from fists to phrases. Eventually, you stopped trying to run so they no longer had to beat you. Every time you got that far off look in your eye, someone would reprimand you. It’s probably because they cared about you.

That’s common for proxies, bonding with your teammates on a level outsiders can’t understand. It’s mostly to keep you safe while out in the field. And unfortunately for you, you’ve been feeling that way towards your group. You’ve covered for each one at least once, and that gesture doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re in a strange place, if you’re being honest.

Take for instance now, back in the passenger seat of a car and heading back to Rosswood with Masky (he told you his real name is Tim) to talk with the Slender Man face to face. While the others in your group have been keeping up with him regularly, you haven’t seen him in person since well, six months ago. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach as you draw closer to the woods you once considered home.

“You nervous?” Masky hums as he turns the radio down.

“Yeah,” you reply, gazing out at the rolling fields again. “What if he-”

“It’d be stupid of him,” Masky cuts you off. “Six months of putting all this time and effort only to off you? Just… Just don’t say anything stupid,” he reminds you, a slight teasing tone lingering on his words. He looks at you with gentle eyes.

You scoff playfully. “Eyes on the road, weirdo.”

Standing in the Slender Man’s office this time as a welcome guest is weird. There’s still the scent of jasmine and incense, but there’s also something sweeter - like a memory he’s trying to provoke specifically for you. It’s warm, but not uncomfortably so, and it doesn’t feel near as suffocating as did that first time.

“You’ve certainly changed,” a deep voice says with an audible smile as it reverberates through your head.

“Sir,” you bow your head slightly.

“I’m going to make this short,” the Slender Man begins. “Miss Reader, I am satisfied with your progress these past six months.”

“Thank you, Sir,” both you and Masky reply.

The tall man hums. “However, you have only reached half of what you used to be. I believe the longer you stay in this group, the better you will become.”

You take in a sharp breath.

“Does that bother you?” The Slender Man doesn’t sound mad.

“I…”

Masky mentally clicks his tongue at you, and you glance over through the corner of your eye.

You decide to respond carefully. “I know normalcy… Sir, I don’t know if this life was ever meant for me, but,” you take in a deep breath and ball your fists to ground yourself. “If this is what you want of me, I will do it.”

The Slender Man chuckles. “Timothy, you’ve done an excellent job with this one. Perhaps I should have placed Pariah with you,” he emptily thinks aloud with another slight laugh. “I regret to inform you Miss Reader, that normalcy was never an option. You will go back with your team and you will continue to better yourself until I say otherwise.” He makes no move to stand from his desk, but his hands reach out.

Taking that as a nonverbal cue, you and Masky stand and each take a large hand.

The Slender Man’s fingers close around your much smaller hands before his hand leaves your grasp entirely. Instead of striking you, he gently cups your cheek. “Now go. I look forward to seeing you in six months.” The warmth is gone from his tone but lingers like doused coals in a still simmering fireplace.

“Thank you for your time,” Masky bows slightly, nodding for you to follow.

Without any other words, you nod to your boss and follow Masky out. The two of you trade silent conversation as you exit the mansion and back to the car. You slip in just like you did six months ago, and so too does Masky. The car comes to life, and you begin to peel out of the parking lot, back to Mississippi.

“How are you feeling?” Masky asks as he pulls down the sun visor after squinting at the beams of light.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you say in slight surprise. “Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Or,” Masky begins. “You were always meant for this.”

You laugh in response and smack his shoulder lighter. “You know you’re not slick, right?” You tease as you stick your tongue out.

Masky chuckles deeply and gets back on the expressway. “I try when I can.”

“Oh really?” You pretend to be shocked. “Where was that smooth talking when I first met you?”

“Out the window because I just met you,” he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You are literally the worst,” you teasingly scoff.

“Right back at you,” Masky breathily laughs. His dark eyes stay focused on the road as

you get comfortable in the passenger seat.

“Really though,” you say as you stretch slightly. “Thanks for not killing me.” You look at him with such gentle eyes that he can’t help but smile just as genuinely in response.

Masky won’t lie, he was admittedly worried for you in the beginning. What with you running away all the time, speaking ill of literally everyone, almost getting everyone caught by the cops… You were colorful, for lack of better words. It’s been nice cultivating that into something better. Maybe you’d make something of yourself out of this garbage fire of a hiccup.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. “It’s my responsibility to watch out for you anyways,” he says as before honking at someone who almost swerved into your lane. “Besides, you’re not all too bad, and as long as it’s me making sure you don’t set shit on fire… Think we’ll be just fine.” He looks over at you and smiles warmly - it feels like the sun - before he turns back to the road.

You hum contentedly as your hand reaches for the radio. You turn up the music and let it play, a serene, comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

#reader #x reader #reader insert #masky #hoodie #marble hornets #creepypasta x reader #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #slender man

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rein-ette · 3 years ago

Note

Are you still working on your Commonwealth study? Do you have any thoughts on Arthur's relationships with his colonies apart from Canzuk + US?

Not properly, unfortunately with exams and then work I haven’t had mental/emotional capacity to do real research (and probably won’t for a while 😔). But I have continued to think about and develop certain relationships, and I think I also have old hcs I’ve never shared, so I’ll put those down!

Born into the Empire

Australia

@oumaheroes has already done such great hcs on him idk what I can add, but basically he was a little bit of a rowdy child, always breaking windows and shattering fancy pots, never able to sit still. I think rainbow once mentioned that Ken (short for Kenneth, my name for Aus) was a lot like England as a child in his curiosity and energy, and I wholeheartedly agree. But I think Arthur’s intensity was more inwardly directed, pushing him to pursue and master new talents and learn whatever he could, while Australia is a little more carefree in his love for the outdoors, exploring, jumping around and off things, little wild animals. Unfortunately for him, he was born in a period of the empire when Arthur was very serious about his kids education, and therefore often praised those who studied hard and learned fast, which really just wasn’t Australia’s cup of tea. Australia took this kinda hard and thought he was the “dumb” one in the family that Arthur was always scolding, but in reality Arthur knew and appreciated that Australias interests lay elsewhere — he was just a frustrated, tired, parent who really wanted to give his kids the best while also holding his empire together, two goals that were never going to fit well in the end and would completely exhaust him.

As Australia’s grown older he’s realized a bit of this (not entirely, though) and also that 1) he really did break a lot expensive things and cause general mayhem 2) scolding us Arthur’s way of showing he cares, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have payed attention to him at all 3) despite being a penal colony, he was still one of Arthur’s more “legitimate” children (being white and a boy) and was therefore still incredibly privileged — never having to question, for example, why it was that Arthur was his dad, if it should be this way, or if he had a seat at the family table at all (more on this later).

New Zealand

Zee, from birth, was a clear favourite. Obedient, calm, quietly intelligent, he would also later develop a blistering sense of humour which combined with his appearance made it overwhelmingly clear who’s child he was. If Ken questioned his place in the family because of his poor academic record and others did because of their appearance/race/other complications, Kaelan never had such problems; his siblings called him the “prince.” Zee, however, also had a charm that, like Matthew, endeared him to his siblings and mostly protected him from jealousy, though he certainly still had issues with being called a try hard, daddy’s boy, bossy, arrogant. Certainly as a child Zee was a little prideful and, under that unperturbed demeanour, willful, but he grew out of it by the 20th century and became one of those most trusted by Arthur, second only to Matthew. He’s also always been inseparable from his brother Australia despite their differences, and today they both have one of the healthiest and most amicable relationships with Arthur of any nation, let alone former colonies (family road trips, every summer).

Bermuda

I absolute fell in love with this girl after reading about here, once, in this fic by @shachaai, and after that my mind just ran away with me. For me, her human name given to her by Arthur just has to be Ariel — for the little mermaid reference, yes, symbolizing her connection to the sea and stunning good looks, but also because:

1. Ariel is a biblical name, meaning lion of God. This makes sense to me, because Bermuda began as a Portuguese trade post, so Arthur definitely consulted our resident bad catholic Port before naming her.

2. Ariel used to be boys name. This also makes sense, because I hc Bermuda was and still is a tomboy. Bitch is fierce, takes no prisoners, and has zero filter. Her letters to Arthur, which all the colonies sent so Arthur could keep an eye on things, were full of shit like “I swear to god if the Spanish don’t get out of my waters I might eat one of them,” and “father, I asked you for destroyers two months ago, and yet you sent them to Hong Kong — could you explain this most unusual occurrence, surely it’s not that you forgot”, and “thank you for the harpoon on my birthday, I caught a small shark a couple days ago and have sent you some of its teeth for your collection.” Arthur tolerates this attitude because he’s weak when it comes to girls; he absolutely spoils his daughters (and flushes like a 16 year old when a woman so much as bats her eyelashes at him). Yes, p*ssywhipped Arthur is a hill I will die on.

3. It also suits her because? Ariel? Shakespeare? The Tempest? Bermuda Triangle? Shipwrecks? Daughter-like figure of powerful and vengeful sorcerer? Yeah. And this girl is a fire spirit — she is so lively, snarky, clever. As she’s grown older she’s mellowed out a little, but still: a no shit taken, no fucks given type of gal.

4. Speaking of growing up, she’s also become quite the beauty. Shacha, if I’m remembering correctly, described her as dark skinned, wavy-haired, and green eyed and that image has been burned onto the back of my eyelids ever since. Those Iberian genetics really be pulling through for her, that’s for sure. Engport love child if I’ve ever seen one. Definitely one of the prettiest in her family.

Singapore

I’ve already mentioned this to needcake, but I’m not too big a fan of canon Singapore, so this is my oc version. Singapore is fascinating to me because it had only a very small local population before it became a colony (The original settlement had actually been destroyed by the Portuguese about two centuries before the British started building a port there.) So nation-tans like Singapore and Bermuda really are Arthur’s children in the most direct sense of the word. And yet, Singapore is mostly ethnically Chinese, with Malays being the second largest group. Growing up Asian in a white, Victorian era family surely cannot have been easy and more than once Singapore probably wondered if there hadn’t been some mistake. To make up for the constant fear that he wasn’t “really” British, Singapore studied ferociously and had a truly terrifying work ethic. I’m not sure if this is common knowledge outside Asian circles, so I’ll mention that this hc comes from the fact Singapore is well known for having truly exceptional students and some of the most prestigious schools. Singaporeans score highly in literally everything and they have an advantage with good English learning environments, a highly desirable trait in Asia, but these results come from brutally long hours — and its really saying something that they’re known for working hard, considering the studying ethic of students in Korea, Japan, and China aint nothing to sneeze at, either. To me this actually fits really well with Singapore’s upbringing in Arthur’s household, because Arthur himself prizes intelligence and hard work above all else, being a workaholic himself.

As for their relationship, it was probably the best when Singapore was young and peaked in the 1930s with the massive naval base the British built at Singapore, at the time the largest dry dock in the world. Singapore was a well-behaved child, not necessarily introverted but not rowdy either, and all the way into his teenage years he truly admired Arthur and was proud to be a part of the British Empire, despite his lingering unease and insecurities. The British defeat in World War II, however, was a massive turning point. He had worked his ass off to be a good son, a good brother, to contribute to the only family and system he had ever known, and he had thought by the 30s he was finally on his way to becoming a fine adult. And suddenly, the British surrender brings his entire world crashing down. He had followed the rules faithfully thinking it was his destiny, but suddenly it was clear that all rules were made up. Of course, his insecurities exploded. If the empire was a ruse, what the hell was he? A part of the illusion? He couldn’t have a truly Asian identity, because many of the old East Asian nations shunned him for his Western upbringing, and he could not entirely understand their values either. So he was a kid who kinda had to figure out late and very very suddenly who the fuck he was and wanted to be.

And, well, he’s done pretty well for himself, hasn’t he. After having a total crisis and questioning everything, I think Singapore slowly started to realize that just because the British Empire as a political entity didn’t last forever, that didn’t mean that his entire childhood and identity weren’t real. The love he gave to his siblings and the love he got back, the hard work he put in, his bond with Arthur and the safe, happy childhood he had — those memories and feelings didnt have to be diminished by what came after. Essentially, he learned the lesson all nations have to learn, which is that one needs to be able to discern between duties as a nation and feelings as a human being, and to some extent keep them separate to protect both.

Whoooooo ok I’ll stop there because this turned into a dissertation, sorry. Let me know if there are any specifics u want me to elaborate on or anything I missed, but I’ll leave this here for today :)

#hws england #hws Australia #hws new zealand #oc: hws Bermuda #not gonna tag anymore I’m lazy #fun times with the commonwealth #I probably won’t write so much for all of them I just put it there to remind myself #needcake #ask #my hcs

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truglori · 4 years ago

Text

Homebody (Ch.5)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Robbery, Smoking

The smoke from the three burnt out blunts fogged the car. Erik’s head hung low as he tried to focus on the topic of discussion. Looking to his right he watched as Durk sparked a lighter to light up the fourth one and started a new rotation. Taking it from his hand Erik put the blunt to his lips and pulled. He had to admit that he was feeling high but yet nowhere near done with the session.

It was a Monday morning. Almost ten am to be exact. They were parked in Erik’s car in front of Frank’s Auto Garage. To a normal person it look like a regular place of business but it wasn’t. Durk used the shop to clean his money so he wouldn’t have anything tracing back to him. Erik glanced up and watched two corner boys walk out with a backpack each before getting into their vehicle and driving off.

“Aye man I appreciate you for coming through with this assignment. Once I get this nigga Shawn out the way I could finally do some business with the new connect.” Durk spoke before inhaling the blunt.

Nodding his head Erik slouched in his seat.

“I told you it’s nothing. Just don’t forget I’ma need one person to come with me. Someone who can watch my back.”

After going into almost two years without doing a job Erik felt a little rusty. He wanted to be certain that he could bring someone with him who could look out. Someone who he could trust that had to be skilled enough to keep up. The last thing Erik wanted was for this to go wrong and he end up in prison or even worst, dead.

If it was any other person coming to him to offer him work Erik would decline them with a quickness. This wasn’t something that he wanted to be a part of anymore. He had aspirations to become a better man. And with that, that means he had to give up the lifestyle to live a better one. But it was Durk. The man who had the opportunity to gun him down right in front of the trap house when they first met five years ago spared him. Gave him a second chance.

Erik witness Durk do way worst to people who didn’t do nearly as half as much compared to what Erik was going to commit that night. So he felt in a way obligated to come through for his best friend. There was no other option. He owe him his life.

“No doubt. Actually I got this one associate that’s in debt with me. Told him I could use his help whenever I needed him to pay me off. Heard he a shooter that don’t miss. Anybody who have your back I think it’ll be him.” Durk grinned confidently.

Erik nodded his head absorbing the information. Trusting his brother with whatever choice he went with he continue to ask him where the drop would be.

“Okay so what about this nigga Shawn. You got an address.”

Durk pulled out his burner. Going to a text message he clicked on it and passed the phone over to Erik.

He read over it. 4523 Lanely Rd. Pulling up his notes icon Erik typed in the address and saved the information. He gave the burner back to Durk. Realizing the area that it was in Erik shook his head. Nice suburban area where it was mostly Caucasian which amount to one thing. Nosy ass neighbors. It was a risk but he would just have to deal with it.

Hearing Durk sighed he studied him. His hands was rested over his eyes as he was leaned back in the chair. His boy looked stressed.

“You good?” A genuine tone came out.

“I think my sister fucking around with someone but I just don’t know who yet.”

Erik’s eyebrows lifted up. Glancing up to the ceiling as he listened carefully.

“I just really hope it’s not one of these fuck niggas. I might need yo ass for another job after this. We could rob this nigga together.”

The two chuckled.

‘Damn I can’t rob myself.’

Erik thought to himself before engaging back in the conversation.

“What makes you think she fucking with someone?” Erik curiously wanted to know. It would give him an advantage on what he should not be doing.

“Well the other night I walk in the livingroom and there she was sitting there with her titties all out, make up done like she was getting ready for a dick appointment or sum shit.” Durk replied in a stressful tone.

Daydreaming at the ceiling, Erik’s memory jogged back to her outfit from that night. He could still see the way her cleavage appeared in front of him as she sat across from him in the diner. The soft flesh looking at him. He had to control himself multiple times that night from staring at them so much. But he couldn’t with the way they would bounce a little every time she laughed.

Speaking of her smile. Erik adored that about her the most. He love how her lips curled up showing off those pretty white teeth. The way her lipgloss color made her lips appear more fuller than what they already were. The same lips that drove him crazy from the softness. If he could sit in the booth kissing her all night he would have. That was enough to satisfy him. Erik sucked in his bottom lip as if he could still feel hers on his. She just had to let him get a taste.

‘Why she let me do that?’

Erik berated himself with that question as he shook his head about his lack of self control. He felt guilty. He was the nigga who his best friend was worried about hurting his sister. Right now he was feeling like a pussy. It was like he didn’t have the balls to speak up and tell him the truth. He was feeling Amiyah.

“Why you don’t like her dating anyway? I get you trying to protect her but I mean she is 21, you can’t stop her from living bro.” Erik wanted to sound reasonable but without suspicion.

“I know she got a life to live but the fact that mine is tied up with hers don’t help.”

“What you mean?”

Durk paused glancing at his phone. “ I mean besides you I can’t trust none of these niggas man. What if whoever she talk to know that she my little sister? No telling what they’ll do to her just to get to me.”

Erik listened understanding his perspective.

“I done did some foul shit out here that I’m not proud of, you know this. This why I am what I am because if I don’t get them first then I know for damn sure they’ll try to get me. I’m just worry about Amiyah getting caught in between.”

To Erik it seem like Durk just wanted was best for his sister. To him family came first. It was important to him. He valued it and would do anything to protect the ones he love. Erik comprehend this.

“You worried she won’t be able to know who and who not to trust?”

“Every-fucking-day. That’s why I don’t want her going anywhere besides home and work. I just want the best for her.”

“You should that’s your sister. Just trust her. She not gon let you down.”

Durk looked at Erik, who gave him a sincere look. If there was anybody else he could trust with his life aside from Amiyah it was his friend. His brother. Erik.

____________________________

Amiyah leaned against the register as she wrote down her completed work assignment. Blowing the air out of her mouth she let the pen fall from her fingers and on to the counter. She was exhausted and ready to clock out and lay in her bed. Her mind began to wonder about the events that transpired over the weekend.

The last time she spoke to Erik was after he dropped her off. He sent a text asking if she made it in safely and that was it. Nothing else since then. His on and off again of inconsistency irritated her. She wanted him to be all about her just as much as she was for him. Of course under the circumstances they had to be cautious but he didn’t have to go another two days without hitting her up.

Checking the time on her Apple Watch she had an hour left before she was up and out of the boutique. She started cleaning certain areas and rehanging the merchandise back onto the racks to make time go by faster. Hearing the sound of the bell ring brought her back to reality.

“Welcome to Bella Ella’s.” She greeted them without looking up and only focusing on her task out of habit.

“Thank you. Hey girl!”

Peering in the direction of the voice she saw Alexis. She was going through the dress section. Amiyah sighed inwardly before walking over to her.

“Hi welcome back. Can I help you look for anything?” She faked a smile.

“Yes actually, I’m looking for something the same as last time just not too revealing this time. I want to tease him. You know?” Alexis sent her a smirk as she walked in front of one of the mannequins observing the clothes.

Hesitant but curious Amiyah asked her. “For another date?”

“Uh you can say something like that. It’s a surprise.” Alexis eyed her up and down.

“Well we have this ruched bodycon dress. It’s an off the shoulder long sleeve lace type of look. I think it’ll fit you. Check it out.” She handed her the dress.

Alexis put the dress up to her frame. Looking in the mirror she smiled at the choice of clothing. Shaking her head she grinned pointing her finger at Amiyah.

“See girl you get me. It’s crazy. Almost like we like the exact same thing.”

��You can say that again.” Amiyah whispered under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Oh I was just talking to myself. If you’re ready I can ring you out.”

They walked to the counter. Amiyah logged in and scanned the dress. Folding it up and putting it a bag she heard Alexis speak.

“Girl how do you do it?”

“Do what?” Amiyah answered confused.

“Work a nine to five. I mean don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just that I personally wouldn’t do it.” She smiled.

“ I like working honestly. I get to meet new people. I have fun here sometimes. This is where I met my best friend and I get to get away from home.” Amiyah shrugged her shoulders as she spoke truthfully.

Alexis nodded slowly. “Right. So are you seeing anyone? Anybody caught your attention?”

Laughing lightly Amiyah shook her head. “No. I met this one guy and gave him my number but nothing popped off yet.” She was talking about Cane.

“Hm if that don’t work out you should let me hook you up. I know a few niggas that’ll blow ya back out and then pay ya bills after.” Alexis grabbed her bag and started to walk away.

Before she could stop herself the question came out faster than she expected. “Is that what you do?”

She stopped midway before turning back around. Her face was contorted. Sizing Amiyah up as she stepped in front of the counter.

“Bitch I do whatever the fuck I have to do to get what I want. Even if it mean that I have to fuck around here and there. It keeps my bills paid and my nails from getting dirty. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.” She gave her one last look before she strutted out the shop.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. Taking a ‘How to get a man’ class from Alexis was the last thing on her list. Girls like her and Amiyah don’t mix too well. She just couldn’t understand how you could trade in time spent on a fake relationship just to get what you want with true happiness.

Her shift was finally coming to an end. Amiyah sent her brother a text fifteen minutes early just so he would be on time to pick her up. Looking towards the entrance her coworker Kacy was coming in to relieve her.

“Hey Kace, it was pretty much a slow day so there’s not any go-backs that you have to do. I would just try to act like you’re cleaning up. Look busy because you know Rhonda be watching the cameras.”

They both laughed.

“I know. She think she slick but go ahead and get out of here. Enjoy the rest of the day. See ya Amiyah.”

Waving goodbye Amiyah exited the boutique. There she spotted her brother waiting outside in his all blacked out Audi A4. She strolled in his direction and got in.

“Wow it’s been forever since you’ve been here on time.” She teased fastening her seatbelt.

Durk kissed his teeth as he pulled off driving to their home. “How was work?”

“Boring I do the same thing everyday.”

“So quit.” He took a quick glance at her.

She sighed irritated. “I’m not quitting my job Durk.”

“You the one who said it’s boring. Just quit.” He laughed.

Amiyah rolled her eyes. “Why? So you can keep your eyes on me 24/7. You always trying to babysit me, damn.” She snapped at him. The mood changed instantly.

Durkio’s jaw clenched as he turned looking at her with his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Babysit you? Where the fuck you get me trying to babysit you from telling you to quit-“

“I know that’s what your intentions are! Not that you care about me not liking my job but because you just want me to have to depend on you and ask you for everything!” Amiyah’s voice kept getting higher with every word.

“Miyah you already depend on me. That two thousand dollar bed that you sleeping on I brought that. Your whole bedroom set, I brought it. The apartment that you living in comfortablely without worry about having to pay one muthafuckin bill, is because of ME!”

Durkio’s hand gripped the steering wheel tightly as he parked in front of their building. He could feel his breathing began to spike as he felt himself get more agitated and angry. Getting out of the car he headed towards the entrance to avoid going any further with her.

Amiyah jumped out and followed closely behind going inside. The elevator ride going to their floor was quiet and tensed. Amiyah tried her best to not argue with her brother but she had more to get off her chest that she didn’t want to go unheard.

“You know you’re a fuckin control freak.” She slammed her purse and jacket on the couch one they made it threw the door.

Durk paused his steps from going into his room.

“How? Tell me what I do Amiyah.” He walked leaning against the counter with his hand folded over the other waiting for her to talk.

“Durk stop playing dumb. Everything that I do you have to be a part of somehow. Like the time I couldn’t take the job offer from the mall because it was ‘too far’. Or how whenever I want to hangout with Kelley you think I’m going to fuck some man-“

“That’s because you are! I know Saturday night you ain’t go out with no fucking Kelley dress the way you were. I’m not fucking stupid Amiyah.”

Amiyah got in his face. “Why would I go fuck someone and I’m still a virgin Derrick. I’m not dumb. I’m not just sleeping with any and everyone.”

Her eyes burned with tears threatening to fall.

Durk used his forearm to move her out of his space. It triggered him whenever someone would walk up to him with disrespect. He knew he would never put his hands on his sister but he didn’t want to feel the urge like he would so he gave her a light push.

“Miyah back the fuck up.” His jaws were tensed and his nostrils became flared out.

“So you can speak your mind but I can’t? I’m not your girl Durk so stop putting rules and regulations on me like I am. I wish our parents were still here so I wouldn’t have to be in this shit hole of a place you call home.”

Amiyah’s blood was boiling. She spoke without thinking. She let her emotions get to the best of her before she could calm down to try and talk to her brother like the young adults they were. But it was too late. She’d gone too far.

Durk shook his head before releasing a dark chuckle.

“You an ungrateful ass bitch, you know that?” His voice spoke lowly but loud enough for her to hear.

Amiyah looked at him in disbelief as the tears came down her face.

“I had to put my life on hold to take care of you. I put myself at risk everyday just to make sure you’re taken care of. So that you won’t have to go out there doing anything you didn’t want to do just to put food in your mouth and clothes on your back. And this how you show some fuckin appreciation?”

He looked at her confused.

“Durk I do appreciate-“

“Get the fuck out my crib.” His voice spoke coldly.

“What?” She unfolded her arms before she walked towards him.

“You heard what I said. By the time I get back you better be gone. Good luck supporting yourself with that weak ass job.”

With that being the last thing spoken to her he brushed past her shoulder and left. Amiyah waited in the same spot hoping that her brother would come back and just tell her to forget this whole argument. But he didn’t.The tears that she thought she had control of were now cascading down her face nonstop.

“What the fuck did I just do!” She scolded herself as her hands covered her face.

She walked to her room. Pushing her door opened her eyes scouted around the room taking in all of her belongings. Where would she go? What could she take? How much could she take without having a vehicle of her own?

Walking over to her bed she sat in silence. She had to think. She had to find away to get her out of the mess that she put herself in. Picking up her phone she dialed the number of the only person she could run to without judgment.

“Hey, Kelley.”

_______________________________________

Erik rolled up to Frank’s Auto Garage. It was time for him to go on the mission. His attire was all black to make himself easily invisible in the shadows. Getting out and walking to his trunk he popped it opened and lifted his secret compartment befor grabbing a duffel bag.

Closing the trunk behind he locked it using his key fob and walked to the front door. He banged four times doing the code knock before he was invited in. One of Durks look out men opened the door.

“Oh shit, what’s good E. You working tonight?”

Giving a silent head nod of approval Erik dapped him up.

“Ok. Well boss is in management. I don’t know what’s going on but he definitely not in the mood. Tread lightly man.”

Taking note Erik walked to the room where Durk was. When he reached it he saw him sitting at his desk talking to someone that he never seen before. Erik tapped lightly on the door making his presence known.

Durk eyes shifted up. “Erik what’s good? Why you knocking? You my brother, you know you ain’t gotta do that.”

“Didn’t wanna interrupt. What’s good? How you doing?” Erik gave him dap with a hug. When they pulled apart he looked in his eyes trying to find an answer. Durk was hiding something.

“Yeah I’m straight. But I want you to meet the person who gon be going with you tonight.” He replied quickly before walking back to his desk.

The guy that sat there quietly got up from his seat. From Erik’s view he didn’t look too much younger than him. He seen his attire matched his as he seen that the young dude already had some leather gloves and a ski mask rested on his head.

Erik gave him a fist pump. “What’s up, I’m Erik.”

“Cane. Nice to meet you bro.”

Durk watched the two interact before interrupting.

“Alright it’s almost 3am. Just got word that nigga Shawn was at the club,which should be closing now. If y’all make it to the address before him-“

“That’ll give us time to find an area to stakeout and then bum-rush him. Catch him off guard.” Cane spoke.

Durk turned to look at Erik before smirking giving him a ‘I told you’ look.

“Exactly. Listen just make sure y’all get the M and dip.” He was referring to the million dollars stashed away.

“I know how this go. Just make sure this nigga straight before we go out there. You know what you doing lil nigga?” Erik questioned Cane.

He kissed his lips. “Look man this ain’t my first rodeo and if I didn’t know what I was doing I’m sure ya boy wouldn’t be calling me.”

“Whoa nigga you owe me a solid. Don’t act like I need you.” Durk stepped in to check him.

Cane waved the two off.

“Aight I trust ya judgment Durk but if shit hit the ceiling, you bailing me out nigga.”

Durk laughed. “Nigga get fuck and go get my money.”

They dapped one last time and Erik left with Cane trailing behind him. He went up to a shelf that had multiple sets of keys sitting on it. Erik grabbed one before walking to the back. There were five different cars out there. He hit the unlock button on the key fob that led him to a dark burgundy Toyota. It was the getaway car for the night. Erik never used his own when he had to do jobs.

He opened the back door and place the duffel bag in the bag. It had two Beretta M9’s, an Ak-47, as well as a roll of duck tape and rope in case the situation went left. Erik got in the driver side. He heard Cane slipping in the passenger seat as he place the address in. It would take them 37 minutes to get there.

Glancing at the clock it was now 2:24 am which gave them plenty of time to find a place for a hideout. Entering the highway Erik and Cane rode in a comfortable silence. Cane every now and then giving Erik a quick glance over before turning his head.

Some time had past when they noticed that they were arriving in the neighborhood of the house where Shawn stayed. The houses were a few yards away from each other but Erik knew that they would still be able to hear the sound of a gun if one went off.

“If you park on this side that bush will be a blind spot. That nigga won’t be able to see us when he pull up.” Cane pointed to the area.

Erik shook his head in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Pulling into the spot Erik parked the vehicle and shut it off. The light from one of the houses landscape slightly shined in the car to make it possible for them to see each other as they waited.

“So you the infamous Erik I heard about. Ya name got some clout to it with all them licks you did when you was coming up.” Cane broke the silence.

Ignoring his comment Erik reached in the back unzipping the duffel and taking out one of the Berettas. He began to load the clip.

“I never thought I see the day where I would be doing a job with you. Heard you was one hard ass nigga”

Chuckling Erik stopped to face Cane. “What you want an autograph or something. Damn nigga you sound like a fan.”

Cane smacked his lips and then laughed.“Aight you got it. But nah I’m just showing respect to an OG.”

“I don’t look that much older than you.”

“Still one of the OG’s.” Cane showed him respect.

“I appreciate the courtesy. I heard some good things about you as well.” Erik was referring to his previous conversation with Durk.

Cane shrugged. “I do a lil sumn.”

Reaching in the back Erik pulled out the Ak-47 and handed it to him.

“So then you should be able to handle this then.” He was testing him.

“What! This is personally my favorite. This thing could make any nigga dance.”

Erik laughed watching the thrill of excitement in Canes eyes. He reminded him of himself when he was first getting started. Ready and down for everything.

The headlights of a Cadillac SUV caught their attention. It was Shawn pulling up. They watched as he hopped out the driver side.

“Heard this nigga keep one on him. You think he gon try and pull it.” Cane took the safety off of the AK. He was talking about his piece.

“I don’t give a fuck what that nigga got. He better not flinch.” Erik pulled the mask over his face. He watched Shawn walk to his passenger side and opened the door.

“Oh shit! This nigga got a bitch with him.” Cane blurted out.

“Plans don’t change. It is what it is.” Erik spoke truthfully. He had to get the job done.

Cane nodded his head and pulled his mask down. They watch Shawn walk to the front door with the girl following close by. Three minutes later the couple went inside the house.

Erik and Cane exited the vehicle making their way onto the front lawn. Staying away from the security lights they crept on the side. There was a side door that they found that lead right into the kitchen. Peaking through the crack of the blinds Erik spotted the two in livingroom sitting on the couch facing the opposite way.

“Let me pick this lock.” Cane bent down to eye level with it. It took him nothing but a minute to get it open.

Quietly Erik turned the knob and entered. Both him and Cane slowly tipped toe to the livingroom putting a gun to both of their heads. Erik had Shawn and Cane had the girl.

“If you want you and your girl to make it to see another day I suggest you to comply with my instructions and not try anything stupid.” Erik threatened as he cocked the gun.

Shawn froze in his seat as the girl next to him started to scream. Cane hopped over the couch and snatched her up by the arm.

“Bitch shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in yo head. You know what get against the wall and stare at that muthafucka.” He pushed her towards the wall.

“Y’all niggas know who I am?” Shawn finally spoke up.

“Yeah nigga. Why else you think we here? We just want the money. It’s simple.” Erik negotiated with him. He pulled him off the couch by his shirt.

“I don’t know what you talkin-“ He was interrupted by Cane hitting him in the mouth with the butt of his gun.

“Nigga quit fuckin playing with us. Run that shit.”

Erik shook his head but smirked. This was one reckless ass dude and he liked it.

The girl screamed again. Erik could hear the terror in her voice. It sounded like she was going to cry.

“You got five minutes to give us that money or you and ya bitch die. Which one is it? Yo life or some dead presidents”

Cane started to run the show and Erik let him as he sat back and watched.

“Aight nigga. It’s in the fucking safe.” Shawn spit the blood out of his mouth.

“Lead the way then bitch.” Cane pushed him and followed him to the back.

Erik was left alone with the girl who was facing the wall. From behind she had a bad ass body. Gazing over her wardrobe she was Burberry down and her fire red locks fell down her back. He kept glancing back and forth between the dark hallway and her back before Erik finally heard a few words slip out of her lips.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

The moment her voice reached his ears his face scrunched up. Walking up to her he turned her around to face him. Backing up he put his gun down shaking his head with disbelief.

The bitch that Shawn had with him was Alexis.

____________________________

Please excuse any mistakes! I will edit this chapter soon!

Tag-list (If you’re not on it let me know and I’ll add you if you want to be added)

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @mymeira12universe-blog @bellanay

#black panther #erik smut #erik killmonger #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger #homebody

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the-devils-girl94 · 4 years ago

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Hi, can you do something where MC's first name is Lilith but they just go by their middle name? The OC that I use for the game's first name is Lilith but goes by her middle name I thought it was funny😂. You know with their connection to the name Lilith and all lol. If you're far enough in the chapters that is.

((Ooh this is very interesting. I like this.))

Lucifer:

He already knew that your name was Lilith. Remember he's the one that chose you to be in the exchange program but he knew that you went by your middle name instead. In honesty, seeing Lilith's name brought back the painful memory of seeing her dying form and making the choice of letting her go to become human in exchange for being Diavolo's right hand man. He almost didnt choose you. In some way, he thought you were her, but he knows better than to go down that road and knows that you are your own person and not his sister, even though there is that connection of you being her very distant relative.

Mammon:

He finds out when he says her name unconsciously, like he was reminiscing and spoke her name, only for you to respond to it. He thought you were trying to be funny but you let him know that your real first name is Lilith and he is shocked. Like not only do you have a very distant connection to Lilith but you have her name too!? Of course he still feels more comfortable calling you by your middle name; he just can't believe you also have her name. There's a 50/50 chance he will blab about it or he'll keep it to himself as a little secret between you two.

Leviathan:

Oh he'll be shocked for sure. He may even try to compare this situation with one of his animes and that this might be destiny that you were chosen for the program. And now you guys have to figure your real, true purpose for your mystical, magical destiny.

Satan:

He'll laugh at the coincidence once he finds out, but don't worry. He won't change how he feels about you nor use the name because he doesn't have much memories or even a deep connection with Lilith. So her name means almost nothing to him. He'll even keep it a secret from the others as it might be worrisome if they found out.

Asmodeus:

He would be speechless, but also extremely happy. Now there is really no denying that you're Lilith's descendant and that you do have a special place here with him and his brothers. (Besides the fact that your parents chose that name because they liked it.)) Of course he'll still use your middle name at your request.

Beelzebub:

He'll be shocked for sure but will be uncomfortable using it to refer to you. Granted, it is your real first name; he's just more comfortable referring to you by your middle name. Especially when romantic feelings and stuff are involved, it would just be weird as fuck to refer to you as Lilith.

Belphegor:

Might feel like shit when he finds out that little tidbit. You know, after the whole killing you debacle and finding out about your connection to Lilith. To find out you share her name as well, it makes him both happy and sad. He'll still call you by your middle name since it's what you're most comfortable with, but he secretly loves that you have her name. It makes him feel even closer to her and you.

#asks #anon #obey me!#obey me headcanon #mc whose name is lilith but go by their middle name #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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what-the-witch-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Allright. Elliott thread that nobody asked for. Part 4

The words you read seem to be some alien gibberish? Try these first:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Don’t worry guys. It will be over soon, I promise.

Bevore we start: This happened yesterday.

And I basically turned into that iCarly gif, where she’s on the Computer, sippin’ her drink and goes: interesting.

Because look who we have here. Our future husband acting all self-aware? Right after I assumed in my last post that he never talks about the possibility of his failure...

Elliott, do you know that I talk shit about you on Tumblr?

Please stop breaking the 4th wall...

To safe at least some of my ‘credibility’, he followed this up with something along the lines of:

“No, no...I am not fishing for compliments. Which does not mean I don't appreciate them ;) “.

Sure. Whatever.

In comparison to that:

A few in-game days previously, I had a cut-scene with Leah, where the player can suggest that she should organise an art show. And there, Leah openly communicated her fears of ppl not liking her art. I was surprised about how open she was, given that it was probably her 2nd heart event or something (?). It's interesting, how Leah (who I perceived to be more reserved than Elliott), was so willing to let us know about her insecurities. Meanwhile, Elliot seems to brush these thoughts aside rather quickly and returns to his nonchalant, graceful self.

I always thought that from the two of them, it might be Elliott who is more vocal about his emotions. But now, Elliott doesn't seem to wear his heart on his sleeves as much as I thought he would. Which changed the way I think about him quite a bit. Maybe he is more likely to hide behind platitudes and a self-assuring smile, after all.

And what can we take from this, when we would want to write, let’s say a scene with Leah/Elliott friendship dynamic?

What do you guys think?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyways, before I was so disgracefully exposed, I was roasting Elliott’s life choices. To which I now gladly return to.

You see, the "issue" I see with Elliott is, that he plays into a trope:

The brooding hermitic author, who turned his back onto society in favour of finding inspiration in nature.

While this might sound thrilling and "romantic", we know that Elliott is not the best candidate to conform to this lifestyle. Just compare, how we as the player, manage to form quite strong relationships with everyone in Pelikan Town just by talking to them regularly.

We see Elliott outside the beach-area quite often. But aside from Leah, he does not seem to interact with anyone much. I don't know if there are statements about Elliott made by other characters, to have some inkling on how they feel about him. But its quite remarkable, how all other friendships outside to his connection with Leah, are not explicitly known as canon (?).

After a whole year living in this town, previous to our arrival, I would suggest, that Elliott might still be very much an outsider. He even remarks how, with our arrival, it will be nice, to no longer be "the new guy" in town.

But the problem with that might have been Elliott's reservedness, to begin with. Polite, but yet, maybe, quite impersonal. All pleasantries and platitudes as mentioned above. It all plays into Elliott's refusal to experience the comforts of a normal lifestyle in favour of pursuing his art.

And I love how Elliott just brushes that aside as if its nothing. I'd really love to know: what would have been his plan b, if his debut failed?

Worst case cenario: What would he'd done, if he ended up stranded in Pelikan Town, penniless and unsuccessful?

Where would he go? Is there a place he can return to? A previous home, previous friends?

I don't think so.

But, dedicated, impuslive, sweet, dumb Elliott just thought to himself:

“I can do that. How bad can it be???, it will be fi~ne.It will be marvellous!

Authentic, truly!

It will be superb pictouresque and that is all I need to write my novel....”

Thanks Yoba. You’ll keep doing that please.

And then we also have interactions of the likes of:

“People have scaped a living off the sea for thousands of years....

I just go to the grocery store.”

A different thought I had on Elliott kind of plays into what I already said previously. But I will adress it as its own topic.

The downside of Elliott’s ego.

As much as we explored the rather whacky / chaotic elements of his character and how he does stupid shit for prestige itself, it is interesting to see what happens when the player challenges his self-dramatisation.

I keep re-thinking if and to what degree Elliott can laugh about himself.

He is not one for self-deprecating humour, I think.

I can imagine that to be more Shane’s thing.

We see different scenarios, in which Elliott reacts differently to things not going his way. One of the positives is the whole “A tiny crab made a home inside his coat pocket”- story. I have seen two interpretations of this scene. And both are dependent on the tone, in which you read his dialogue. One group thinks he is just complaining yet again.

On the other hand, you could read it more like:

“My, look what we have here. Can you believe that [y/name]?!“.

I think that Elliott does not appear to be angry or annoyed at all in that scenario, too. He could have vented to the player, how he needs a new coat, now. But he simply leaves it at that. And you know what?

But, there are other times, where Elliott reacts negatively to the player not doing what he wants you to do. Meaning: your reaction to him or your behaviour in a specific situation. Let's look at his 2nd (?) heart event at the Stardrop Saloon. He comes up to the bar, finds himself in the mood for company, and orders wine for you and ale for himself.

New Headcanon:

That little crab still lives there! It will probably live there long after you two get married. And he will feed it scraps from the dinner table even though you ask him not to.

Whatever...Sounds Cute.

My first reaction to that was: “aw, wHaT a GeNtLemAn!!!”. My second reaction was my inner feminist having a temper tantrum because: “how dare a man, to assume what I want to drink!”

New Headcanon on Elliott and gender roles, anyone? Or is it given, that with him being a good old fashioned lover boy, his expectation on any relationship dynamic might be more traditional?

As much as I find Elliott charming and all, this could be a great red flag and, again, beautiful material for character-conflict. Maybe Elliott needs to learn to not take everything at face value. Maybe he needs to learn, how to take a joke. Especially those made at his expense.

However, when the question arises, what the two of you should drink on, he will not laugh if you say “your doom”.

This is not something he sees as sarcasm or as a joke. In fact, you lose 50 friendship points! Like holy shit. That in itself is not much, but its a game-penalty. He is actively reacting negatively toward you. This is one of the few times, where your decision actively has an impact on the friendship-metre. Of course, that statement could be delivered in a non-joking matter. Which then justifies his reaction.... sure.

But even the fact that Elliott chooses, to not downplay or gloss-over your comment, leaves me with the following interpretation:

He hoped for a charming, flirtatious interaction. All you had to do, was to play along. But you ruined it.

Just imagine a situation with a little bit of miss-communication and a version of Elliott that is a little too proud for his own good and *chef's kiss* we have drama.

Me to Elliott and Farmer-OC: fight! fight! fight! fight! :D

All of you reading right now:

omg can't you just chill??? We are here for the fluff :(((

Also: depending on how it's written, that could be one of Elliott's major character flaws. The one that is not cute at all!

__________________________

I wanted to take some jabs at Elliott's likes and dislikes. But as it turned out: Yes, you can turn Duck feathers into quills. I had this funny headcanon that Elliott wanted to be extra special by choosing duck feathers as his preferred writing instrument. And I was all like: “use a pen!!”.

But then I found out about the Unobtainable Weapons-List and Elliott’s pen is one of them. Okay, whatever.

And then I asked google how to make quills. And while duck feathers are not the preferred or most popular option, there is also nothing that would speak against it, as long as the feather’s shaft is durable enough. So that theory has flown out of the window pretty quickly as well.

The only thing that comes to my mind instead is, how Elliott would still need a digital manuscript for publishing. But me screaming: “Where is your Laptop Elliott??? You need a computer! Its the 21 century!!!” is not half that funny anymore.

I guess I’ll end it here.

I hope you enjoyed this completely useless stream of consciousness.

I will now continue playing Stardew Valley and indulge in all my other quarantine-born obsessions.

I wish you a wonderful day and happy farming.

#stardew valley #stardew elliott #sdv #sdv headcanons #stardew valley headcanons #sdv elliott #elliott stardew valley #stardew valley elliott #elliott sdv #elliott stardew #it ends there #i am done #byebye #sdv fanfic

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