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cameronspecial · 5 months

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we all kmow drew loves to read and staying in, let’s make Dad!Drew staying in for the weekend and read to his 2 yo daughter and everything (hanging out, taking cute pics, doing her hair, play house) while reader going out with her friends and she felt a little guilty but he assured her that he loves spending time with their baby, so she should stop worrying.

Me And My Lady

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Suggestion of Sex At The End

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

“You be Ken, Daddy, and I be Chelsea,” Elizabeth orders, handing her father the doll. Most kids are obsessed with the titular character of Barbibe; however, Drew’s daughter loves her Chelsea doll with a passion. He takes it without hesitation, “'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten. Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?” The singing goes over his daughter’s head and she begins the dialogue of the game. He isn’t too sure what exactly is going on; only catching every other word. He does hear cheating and divorce though, so he makes a mental note to ask Y/N if she has been watching Real Housewives with their daughter again.

Around half an hour later, the young girl complains about being hungry, so the two of them get to cook dinner. He watches as the small hand grips the spatula and waves it back and forward, spreading tomato sauce over the lasagna slices. She accidentally yanks the utensil upward, which causes a splash of red to land on her nose. Drew laughs and Elizabeth goes crossed eyes to try to see what he is laughing at. This makes him laugh even harder and she joins in on the cheery mood. He takes the phone out, letting her put some sauce on his nose and angling the camera at both of them. They make a funny face and he takes multiple pictures. After their small photo shoot, the two of them finish making the lasagna and eat up their reward for their effort. He checks the time to see that it is the little one’s bedtime soon. “It’s bath time,” he announces. Excitement crosses her face because she loves being in the water. He helps her out of the chair and chuckles when she rushes to the bathroom. “Come on, Daddy,” she beckons from the other room. He jogs after her to find her sorting through her toys already, trying to figure out which one she wants to play with. The one thing she hates about bathtime is the three toys limit.

He steps over the toys and plugs the drain so the tub will fill when he turns the tap on. As the water begins to occupy the hollow porcelain, Drew turns to his daughter and opens the cabinet beside the bath. “Do you want bubbles and what bath bomb do you want?” he questions. She looks up from her toys and examines the choices, “Can I use one of Mommy’s?” The cabinet is filled with bubbles for both Y/N and Elizabeth, but the bath bombs are divided between the two of them. Elizabeth’s are colourful and shaped in different forms, such as cats, unicorns, or dogs, while Y/N’s are more focused on the scents so they are less colourful and just round. Knowing his wife wouldn’t mind sharing, he nods. “Bubbles, please, and that one,” she answers, pointing to the light pink bath bomb that smells of roses. Drew grabs both of the chosen items, “Those are fine choices, My Lady.” Elizabeth giggles at the funny accent he uses and accepts the round object he hands her, dropping it into the tub when he instructs her to.

Once the bubbles are in and the water is at an appropriate height, he helps her undress and sets her into the tub. He hands her the duck, the mermaid, and the boat she chose to play with, accepting the mermaid she gave him. “And we can swim all night together,” she recounts. The duck slaps against the water under the grip of the daughter. The force produces a large splash that hits her father in the face. His face scrunches as the water makes contact and drips to his neck. “Hahaha,” she yells. Drew fakes an angry look, “Grrr. You think that’s funny, Little Lady?” He dips his hand in the water and flicks some at his daughter. Her giggles intensify and she tries to get away from the attack. The warmth soon leaves her, creating a shiver in her. Upon seeing this, the father grabs the ducky hood towel from the hook and takes her out of the tub. He wraps it around her and runs his hands up and down her arms to create some heat. The floor is soaked because of their playing, so he takes a second to dry it with the floor towel.

With the floor clean, he carries her to her room and they get her changed into her pyjamas. He runs the towel over her hair to get out as much moisture as he can. He takes the brush she hands him and runs it through her hair to get rid of the knots created in the bath. “Do we want one braid or two?” he confirms. She hmms for a little, “Two Fwench braids, please.” He divides her hair into two and then separates one of the sections into three. He begins weaving the strands together like his wife taught him and sings with his daughter whilst she waits for him to finish.

“There you go, My Lady. Why don’t you go choose a bedtime story?” he encourages, watching her run to her bookcase. She spends about a minute looking at her options before choosing a book he knows she is going to pick because it has been her choice for a few nights now. She patters back to him and he helps her onto her big girl bed. Her head rests against his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t see her thumb in her mouth even though Y/N would kill him for not stopping it. He thumbs through the book to find where they stopped last night and clears his throat to start reading. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” The English major side of him loves that his daughter likes to read Shakespeare. He is sure she doesn’t understand anything he reads, yet he knows she enjoys it because she is always so attentive and she’ll ask what certain words will mean. Drew looks past the inappropriate subject matter of Hamlet for the two-year-old because it feels like a bonding experience for him. It is one of the reasons why he isn’t angry at Y/N for watching Real Housewives with Elizabeth.

Ten minutes later, he fills her head relax as it digs into his muscles. He closes the book and kisses her forehead. His hand raises the blanket to her chin, turning on the night light. “I love you, My Lady,” he whispers.

———

Drew is reading through Othello because he thinks it is what he and Elizabeth should read after Hamlet. She’ll like the witches’ scene. He hears the front door open and close. He shuts the book, placing it on the side table as his wife walks through the bedroom door. “Hey, did she go down to sleep okay?” she mumbles. Her back is facing him whilst she takes off her jewellery and places them on her vanity. His head bobs and he gets behind her. He hands her a makeup wipe, resting his chin on her shoulder. He observes her nighttime routine through the mirror. His lips press against her skin, “Yep, everything went by smoothly. We are almost done with Act Three for Hamlet. I’m thinking about reading Othello with her next. How was the club?” She hesitates about answering. Y/N honestly had an amazing time tonight. It felt so great not having to worry about another human being for an evening. She loves Elizabeth, except being a mom can create a lot of pressure. Even though the night was a success, guilt overcomes her when she meets her husband’s eyes in the mirror. Drew hasn’t gone out at night with friends since he got back from work and she has been out three times. “It was fine,” she plays off, wiping her makeup off with the wipes he provided for her.

His brow arches at her tone, “Really, only fine? I saw Layton’s story. You looked like you were having a blast.” Her eyes fall to the vanity. “It must have been a trick of the light,” she shrugs. She goes for another wipe, except veiny hands stop her. He takes her hand in his and spins her so they face each other. Warm hands cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, My Queen? Why so glum?” he worries, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

Her breath tickles his skin as she exhales, “Do you hate that I make you stay at home with Elizabeth when I go out?” His head shakes like an earthquake and he brings her in for a hug. He can feel the guilt oozing out of her. “No, of course not. I love Elizabeth. Why would I hate it?”

“I’m not saying that you hate her. I just wonder if you resent me for going out with the girls, which means you have sole parent duties for a night. You haven’t had a night out since she was born. I mean you go out, but never by yourself so that I have sole parent duties.”

“You have sole duties when I work.”

“That’s different though. Just because you love your job doesn’t mean it is a personal outing for pleasure.”

“True.”

She looks back at him with a pout, his last words intensifying her emotions. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I may not go out anymore, but I never used to go out that much before anyways, right?” he reminds her. She thinks about it, realizing that it is true. Whenever he went out, it was always with her by his side. She meets his gaze, “You are saying that to make me feel better.” His head moves from side to side. “No. I love having nights with me and My Lady. I mean they are perfect when it is me, My Lady, and My Queen, but if I can give you a much-needed break, then I am more than happy to help you with that. If anything, Elizabeth is my excuse to stay in.” A grin starts to grow on his face when he sees the tips of her lips flip upwards. “Well, I’m glad I made you the perfect excuse,” she jokes. His laugh joins her lightened mood, “You made me the best excuse. Maybe we should start working on another one. You know, to solidify our excuse.” His eyebrows waggle and she pulls him into a kiss with a smirk. Their giggles mix in the air as he locks their bedroom door and she flops onto their bed.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew starkey #drew #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader

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bbunnyyy · 9 months

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★ SHINSOU X READER

▻ Summary: You and Shinsou get caught by his mentor. [implied fem reader, aged up characters.]

▻ Fluff, awkward stuff, hope you like it <3

☁ I try to hide it in my face and it don't work, you see through that I just wanna get with you... ☁

A/n: good luck to those of you who have exams!

What is this, a funeral? Play some music: You right by Doja Cat

☀︎

You walked into the lounge behind the staff room to check on Eri. Present Mic being your mentor and Eraserhead being Shinsou's, you both had special privileges. One of them being steaming hot coffee on cold days.

Eri was lying on her tummy on the floor, colouring with pastels. "[Onee/ Onii] -san, you're back!" she exclaimed joyfully, jumping into your arms. You chuckled, catching the small child and encasing her in your arms. Eraserhead had put you on Eri-watch duty since he'd be busy for the rest of the evening. "Look! Look! I drew Papa Mic and Dada holding hands in front of their house and You and Onii san holding hands in the yard!" Eri showed you excitedly. "You're so good at drawing, Eri-chan!" You exclaimed while kneeling down to the now beaming girl's level. "Wait a minu- Why are me and Shinsou holding hands??"

"Mmm. Very interesting." A voice came from behind you, which you responded to with a squeak. Eri ran into the Shinsou's arms, the artwork now forgotten. "Shin! Don't scare us like that." You said while telling him off. "Oh, boo hoo. I can't help that you're a scardey cat." Shinsou said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the sofa. "You sneak up behind a person and then make fun of them for being surprised? What a bleak time to live in." You tutted, shaking your head sarcastically. "Enough bickering, Y/N. There are more important matters at hand, like watching Cinderella." Eri cheered happily as you sat on the couch, Shinsou starting the movie. Eri cuddled into you as she sang along to the songs, having watched the movie before.

"I'll head to the vending machine, Do you guys want anything?" You piped up, feeling thirsty. Eri, absorbed in the movie with her mouth agape shook her head half-mindedly. Standing up, you made your way to the corridor. Looking out the windows, you saw the trees gently swaying in the wind, highlights of the golden sunlight illuminating the bark. It was almost sundown, you thought to yourself. Sensei would be back soon. Standing in front of the machine, you kicked it. The darn thing was acting up again. Your head turned at hearing soft footsteps from the other side of the corridor. It was the purple-haired idiot dragging his feet along the floor, yawning while rubbing the back of his head. "Eri's asleep so I thought I'd give you some company." Shinsou said, mid-yawn. "Hmph. Like I'd savour your company." You stated, pursing your lips.

Shinsou backed you into the wall. "Speak up, pretty girl." Shinsou smirked while looking into your eyes. Smirking yourself, "In simpler words your pea brain can understand- you're boring." Tilting his head, Shinsou closed the gap between you two. "That's not what you were saying last night." He said, now nipping at your neck. "We should stop Shin, we need to get back to Eri-chan." You two jumped away from each other when a loud yawn interrupted your moment, the both of you looking in the direction of the disturbance. Eri was walking towards you two, sleepily rubbing her eyes. "The movie's almost oveer.." Eri wailed, putting her hands up wanting to be picked up. Big bro Shinsou swooped in, picking her off her feet.

☾

Shinsou put a cranky Eri to sleep as you stood leaning on one of the desks while looking at the now-black sky through the huge windows. You yawned, feeling sluggish yourself. You made a mental note of the things you'd have to do when you got back to the dorms. Rubbing your eyes, you looked at Shinsou who was now walking towards you. He stretched his arm to reach behind you, turning the lights down to dim the room. Your eyes wandered the room, falling on Eri, whose chest rose and fell as she breathed softly. Shinsou moved to stand in front of you, placing his hands on your hips and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. His hands snaked up to your back as you held him close, wordlessly. "Tired?" You chuckled, running your hands through his hair to comfort him. "I think I should change my name to Mr.Eyebags at this point." Shinsou joked, his hands now roaming your body.

You let out a gasp as your body made a 'thud' sound as it came into contact with the desk. Your hands were above your head, held firmly in place by Shinsou's muscular arms. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, whining about how Eri was in the room and how Aizawa Sensei would be back any moment. Shinsou hunched over you, shushing you by placing a slender finger on your pouty lips. Not wanting to look at him, you turned your head in rebellion. "Oh, is that how you're going to play princess?" Shinsou said, pinning you down with one hand. Shinsou tickled your tummy and you resisted your very best from giving in laughing. You burst into a fit of giggles along with him just when you heard someone clearing their throat as the lights in the room flickered on.

Shinsou widened his eyes. "S..Sensei." Shinsou stuttered, trying to explain himself. You sat up, mortified. "Shinsou. Y/N." Aizawa said, pressing his temples. "How long has this been going on?" Aizawa questioned you both shifted your weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "A couple months." You piped up, your gaze falling to the floor. "We weren't gonna keep it a secret forever." Shinsou said, walking over to you. Aizawa shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm against it." Aizawa stated, now looking at you both. The silence in the room was loud, the three of you staring at each other. "....Is Yamada Sensei going to hear about this?" You questioned, wishing you could be buried a few thousand feet under the ground. "You bet." Aizawa shrugged, turning on his heel to walk towards the sofa. "Set a good example for your younger sister." Aizawa said, side-eyeing you both while picking up Eri who was still asleep.

Shinsou and You stood in silence for a while after Aizawa stepped out the room. "Wanna walk back to the dorms together?" Shinsou proposed, resting his hand on the small of your back. You nodded. "Sensei is never going to let go of this." You groaned, imaging the amount of teasing you'd have to endure from your mentor and Aizawa Sensei. "Good thing we're graduating soon, eh?" Shinsou said, poking your stomach with his elbow.

#shinsou x reader #bnha fanfiction #aizawa shouta #aizawa #dadzawa #hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha x reader #dad mic #dadzawa x reader #mha x reader #eri #eri x reader

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ray-winters · 4 months

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we just wanna hear any hcs you have for our boy misch

Alright, y’all asked for it, buckle up:

Mischa makes most of his money from an apprenticeship he has at the only tattoo parlor in Uranium City. He gets paid a bit, and on top of that he gets free tattoos (which is where he got all of his from). Plus it keeps him out of the house and also pisses his very traditionally valued adoptive parents off. Win win.

My Mischa only has tattoos on his right arm bc I am left handed so HE is left handed- he does his own tattoos mostly. He was going to start a sleeve on his left arm after he got home from the fall fair.

Speaking of his tattoos; the first tattoo he gave himself was one that says “Bad Egg” w/devil horns and a devil tail. “Bad Egg” was something his adoptive dad would frequently call him, so it was his way of reclaiming the name for himself, and pissing off his adoptive parents bc they were viciously anti-tattoo

He has another tattoo of a crescent moon with a “ - T” next to it bc he asked Talia to draw him something to put on his body. She drew the moon because of the time difference between Kyiv & Uranium, any time she sees the moon she knows she’s going to hear from Mischa soon. So she began to associate Mischa with the moon.

My personal fav tattoo I gave Mischa is that stereotypical “S” where you draw 6 lines and connect them. This is brand fucking new to Mischa, he had never seen it before, and he thought it was dope af, so he tattooed it on himself immediately.

He has a tattoo of a pot leaf, but it’s not very good so everyone always thinks it’s a Canadian maple leaf. Which drives him up the wall.

Mischa has taken in a small black cat that would hang around the tattoo parlor and would occasionally follow him home. It lives with him in the basement, it comes and goes, and it is a well kept hidden secret.

Mischa hangs at Noel’s house…a lot. Noel’s mom lets him stay the night often bc she knows about his home life and thinks it’s disgraceful, so she takes care of him.

Mischa was class clown and relatively popular at his high school in Ukraine- which is the polar opposite of how he’s received at St. Cassian’s. People either are afraid of him, or they try to make fun of him, so either way he has found himself alone most of the time.

He’d never admit it, but Mischa does actually enjoy hanging with the kids in the choir. He gets to hang with his bestie, Noel. He admires Constance’s patience and kindness, he thinks she’s probably the best person in Uranium. While he and Ocean get on each other’s nerves, there’s a small part of him that secretly looks forward to their fights. But only a little bit. He doesn’t notice Ricky is there until after the accident, and then spends a large chunk of his time trying to rectify that by getting to know/encourage Ricky.

He and Noel became friends bc some of the boys who were trying to bully Mischa were also bullying Noel. When Mischa was about to start defending Noel, Noel ended up proving he can defend himself with his quick wit rather than fists. This is a trait that Mischa admires a lot, so they pretty much joined forces that day and they’ve been the dynamic duo of Uranium City ever since.

Mischa has pretty severe abandonment issues and it prone to panic attacks because of it. He’s more of a “suffer in silence” kind of guy, so it takes someone with patience and kindness like Constance to give him some tips on how to calm himself down. I.E. remembering a calming situation like “climbing back into your bed in the morning and feeling the heat left over from your body.”

Mischa had been kicked out of a few schools in Uranium, and his adoptive figures (they’re not really parents, barely guardians) gave him one last chance at St. Cassian’s. When he was caught stealing the communion wine, Father Marcus told him he HAD to join the choir and that he HAD to at the very least sing at the competition. Which is why he doesn’t do any choreo during the opening number.

Addendum- he does ONE move during the opening number. The finger wag on “oh no no” because Noel came up with that move, and after Ocean tried to cut it, Mischa said it was the only move he’d do even if it was cut. So he forced her to keep the move in via malicious compliance.

Over the course of the musical, there isn’t really a moment where he thinks he’s gonna win. His life wasn’t fair, why should his death be any different.

He thinks Jane is THE coolest and THE most metal thing he’s ever seen. After she finishes her number, his heart is effectively broken for her.

When Constance punches Ocean, Mischa doesn’t have the “FUCK YEAH” reaction that you’d expect. It’s actually met with some sadness. He’s always encouraging Constance to stick up for herself, and to not take Ocean’s shit. But, he respects that she has patience and kindness. When Constance punches Ocean, he almost sees it as a failure on his part.

The reason in my head why Mischa and Ocean feud so much is because they remind each other of one another’s parents. Ocean is the poster child of excellence in Uranium, Mischa’s adoptive parents have said more than once that they wish he could “be like that Ocean girl” - on the contrary, Ocean has caught Mischa smoking weed before. His incredibly radically liberal world view reminds her of her hippy parents. They get that anger out at them on each other. But at the end of the show, they both have a deeper respect for one another. Ocean for Mischa because she sees the real him, who is gentle & compassionate. Mischa for Ocean because she does the most selfless thing she could possibly do, which he respects infinitely.

I’m sure I have more but these are the HC’s that immediately came to mind. This is what makes Majestic Rep’s Mischa, Mischa.

#ask #mischa bachinski #ride the cyclone #mischa rtc #rtc #ride the cyclone headcanons #majestic rep #majestic rep theatre #majestic repertory theatre

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misguidedasgardian · 2 months

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Wild Cats (Part IX)

IX. The road ahead

MASTERLIST

Summary: You leave Atlanta in hopes of finding refuge, a place to be, to belong

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism,

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Bare it with me, my favorite trope is arranged marriage because I have no idea how to build it up, haha, and Daryl is so complex, but I’m giving it my best shot alright?

You ran out of Atlanta, abandoning like it was riddled with the plague, not that it wasn’t already, but you get the meaning.

You were not going to DC, you were not going to Lake Lanier.

At least not yet, you were driving Noah to his house first which was on the way to Washington DC, Beth had insisted, You were a big group, you were slower because of it, but all of you were seasoned survivors by now, you were strong together.

You came to know that you had lost Bob, which didn’t personally upset you since you never even spoke to him, but Sasha was terribly sad, as he was her partner, and it was awful to lose someone, whoever that was.

You gathered Gabriel, Michonne, Carl and Judith, and you started your long journey

Usually, it would be like eight hours of driving to DC, but traveling had gotten extremely slow in the apocalypse, especially since most roads were cut. You had barely drove for a couple of hours until you had to stop in a small industrial neighborhood, both because rather the car had decided to stop working and also you needed to change cars and regroup

But the sun was falling over the horizon, so you offered yourself to clear out a bodega nearby, with a couple of floors of offices, more comfortable for sleeping.

“I’ll go with ya”, jumped Daryl, who had barely even looked at you since they rescued Beth. You wanted to say no, that you didn’t need a babysitter

“I’ll go too”, said Rosita, and you were relieved. Something had shifted in the dynamic of that group, Abraham barely spoke, usually he was so driven, but now, since it was revealed that the whole cure thing was a lie, Eugene had an ugly bruise on his face and Abraham sat in the back seat and just looked forwards, didn’t even offer himself to drive.

You and Rosita took the lead while Daryl, behind you, had his crossbow standing in attention. You opened the thick door to the outside to reveal an empty hallway, you took your ax with your left hand and your gun with your right, you had been gifted with being ambidextrous, and you had nurtured it during your time alone.

You knocked on every door, clearing it office by office.

It wasn’t until you reached the warehouse at the very end of the hallway when the fun began, at least ten walkers came for you as soon as you opened the door.

“Let’s get the party started”, you muttered, Rosita only smirked.

Daryl stood behind you, you felt him shift uncomfortably, as you and Rosita, knife and ax in hand, threw yourself at the walkers

Piercing skulls was more difficult than it seemed, truly. Well, in your experience it really depended on the… state… of the walker you were about to hit.

You drew the first walker blood, as you took the first one out of his undead misery with a swing of your ax, the second one was coming near, so you kicked it, made it stumble back giving you a few moments to take foot and end him too.

At some point this became cathartic. like a relief, you were ending the enemy, fighting the fight, the living VS the dead

You and Rosita fought them all, Daryl ended a couple of them, saying nothing, but you appreciated that he gave you your space to do what you had to do, what you offered yourself to.

Rosita was badass, she was, her movements were impeccable as she took those walkers out, you exchanged looks and she smiled at you

“Those were some sick moves”, she admitted, “not bad new girl”, you chuckled

“Not so bad yourself Espinosa”, you said back with a wink

Daryl just watched the scene, interested.

“Should we clean more floors?”, you said

“Damn straight”, she said, “let’s see what else we can find”, she said, after taking a look around, there were only boxes filled with odd metallic pieces you couldn’t recognize. So you moved on from the warehouse, Daryl barely nodded, and followed you like he was your bodyguard

With everything that had happened lately, being saved by Daryl repeatedly and then judged harshly by Carol and him too, you wanted to show what you could do, looking to prove yourself again, but this time, for your own sake, rather than to prove anything to them, if anything, you were annoyed that Daryl was there looking over your shoulder.

You went room by room on the second floor, as usual, you didn’t find anything too exciting. a couple of walkers.

A thing that you never liked to do… was to play detective, to draw a story about who these people were, how did they die if they were alone, you tried not to… look… too much at the scenes. You had seen things, terrible things, that you did not wish to remember right now.

So you tried to separate… walker from person…. they were not people anymore, and that is what you were comfortable with

You took a swing so hard your ax got stuck in the wall, you had to use your leg as leverage to take it out.

It was a good exercise, you were afraid you were getting out of practice

You cleaned up every floor, without a single bullet being shot, you took them out one by one.

As you cleared the last office, finding a couple of nice bottles of scotch in what it looked to be the boss’ office

With complacent smiles and a good bounty you returned to the group after having a couple of swings from the bottle, only Rosita and you, Daryl, denied to take a sip.

You returned and Rick seemed impressed, so they all entered the building you had secured.

The rest of them were scouting the area, searching specially for gas for the cars. You still had the things you had from your safehouse, so you ate together in a cleared office.

These moments where odd, dining all together, like a strange family, with lots of uncles, and nephews and nieces

It was odd, but it felt nice.

Then the scotch appeared and they all seemed content, taking drinks, for different reasons…

Many of them celebrated they found Beth and their group was put together again, the others, for sorrows, for the broken promise of a solution to all this madness. Some celebrated that we were fine, and on our path to something better, others tried to drown their fears of the uncertainty of the near future.

But there wasn’t enough buzz for anybody to get really drunk, so after dinner, everybody split up.

Everybody knew what to do for the night, the scavengers looked for useful things around in the small neighborhood, the others prepared for the journey the next day, others set up lookouts points to take guard, Beth and Rick stayed with the kids.

You felt weary of Rick, and how he treated you so delicately, so, you did what you used to do best, you went to the roof. You were a bit tired after slaying a dozen walkers so, you guessed you could take the first watch from the high point of the area.

You came out the door of the roof, and you weren’t surprised when you saw Daryl there, you had seen him sneak out of the room when the liquor started pouring

You were starting to… getting to know him better, he was the guardian of the group, always making sure everyone was safe and fed. You couldn’t sneak up on him, he was already looking at you when you found him.

“You should sleep a bit”, you said softly, he only acknowledged you and nodded, growling a bit. He tended to do a lot of that, just a little rumble, a sound from way inside his throat, but you were learning to interpret them

“What ‘bout ya’?”, he asked

“I have been training myself to sleep at day”, you said, with a soft smile.

You sat right by his side, completely violating his personal space, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was not that he was paying close attention to what was going on, it was just that he couldn’t sleep. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t speak, you just sat there, breathing softly, looking at the scenery with sharp eyes. He was seated against a big squared vent, close to the edge, so you could see a lot of the area front here, even if you were setting there

You didn’t say anything else.

. . .

It’s been a while since Daryl felt this peaceful

He felt relaxed, even deep in slumber, when he started to come to his senses, he felt a soft sway, like the one of a boat in a tranquil lagoon with barely any ripples in water. Then, he heard, he felt, your soft breathing, on top of his head, on his forehead, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the top curve of your breasts, hiding comfortably in your brassier, under your soft looking shirt with a generous V-neck line. He saw your chest, your beautiful skin, how soft it seemed, he wished he could touch it… he tried to look up but the angle didn’t allow him to see your face, so he regained control of his body and he separated himself from you.

There you were, peacefully sleeping as he had been, the sun was already shining softly in the horizon.

When he realized how much he was leaning into you he separated himself from you, and that is what woke you, the lack of the presence of the archer stuck to your side as it was when you finally went to sleep

He couldn’t believe he had lowered his guard like this, and not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was supposed to be on guard, vigilant, taking care of his group

“It’s already morning”, you said groggily

He couldn't believe he had been looking at your cleavage, what was he thinkin?

He couldn't believe he had been looking at you like a deer in headlights since he met you, that he had never felt this comfortable in who knows how long, that he was almost impressed when he saw how you took down those walkers with only your ax, he couldn’t believe he was… feeling this… things… he… he stood up like the floor was lava, like you would burn him

“We gotta go”, he said quickly, you barely nodded, and he left you there, alone.

You didn’t even understand what was going on, but he almost sprinted full speed away from you.

You stood up, the uncomfortable position you took all night taking a toll on your sore extremities, but to no matter, he was right.

You went down the stairs and found Rick, Carol, Glenn and Maggie, who looked at you and where you had come from. Rick looked at you kind of concerned, Maggie and Glenn with funny faces, entertained, and Carol seemed angry.

“Morning”, you greeted softly, “is everything alright?”

“Except by the fact that Daryl ran off, yes”, said Maggie with a silly smile, you felt your cheeks heated, looking everywhere but at their faces

“We were discussing how to proceed ahead”, said Rick, “with the big group we have”, you nodded and kept walking.

“No luck with more gas?”, you asked, and they shook their heads, “there are other towns nearby”, you said softly.

“Yes, let’s move to the next one”, said Rick, “let’s pack up and go”, he commanded

“I’ll make sure everybody has some place to take provisions, so we can divide the weight”, said Carol.

You walked back where everybody was refreshing themselves, you had found a working bathroom so everybody took turns to freshen up. You had checked the tank upstairs and still was halfway filled with water.

“Where have you been?”, asked Rosita with a smirk

“I slept on the roof, old habits die hard I guess”, you said with a shy smile

“Alooone?”, she tease, but you only shook your head with a smile, and kept moving

Last night meant nothing, you literally just offered your shoulder to sleep on and he accepted, nothing less or nothing more.

Everybody packed up, and you started moving, leaving the huge fire truck behind.

You started walking North, you were a big group and you felt safe, for the first time in ages, there were no hordes or walkers near and you followed a road up north, a small road, to not draw too much attention to yourselves, from neither the living or dead.

You walked until you saw a sign, saying that you were already in South Carolina, you had left Georgia behind, and your plan to go to Lake Lanier. You don't resent Rick for leading you towards Washington, it was the sanest idea.

You didn’t even know what was there, an old margarita ville, cabins, yachts and a big hotel, it could be a huge bust, right?

So you just went along, is not like you could separate from them and go yourself, you didn’t want to split up, you felt safe with them, you felt like a force of nature, to be reckoned with

At first, you were walking all together, on a line, as the day progressed you started to separate in groups, some started talking amongst themselves, you got a bit delayed and walked behind them, hand in your holster, ready for everything.

You were guarding them, taking care of them even from a bit afar, so that would give you a bit of perspective for possible dangers.

The sun was burning you from above, right a the center of the sky when you stop for something to eat

You still had bottled water to last you for today and maybe breakfast tomorrow, but no more than that, so you hoped you could find a town for tonight.

RIck looked for you with his eyes, and when he found you, he seemed concerned

“You alright?”, he asked, cradling Judith against his chest, you nodded

“Yeah sure”, you muttered

“I know you believed Lake Lanier was the way to go, but…”

“It's fine Rick”, you said simply, “I was just protecting our backs”, you said with a smile, he nodded placing a hand on your shoulder

“Thank you”, he said

You helped Tyresse, Beth, Carol and Noah to make food for everyone, Daryl set the fire of course and then escaped into the woods, out of sight.

You baked some canned beans, in cans, and everyone seemed contented, you didn’t have anything better, and there were a lot of you,

You wondered what happened to all the farm animals… in farms… the dead also ate animals, the fuckers, they were going to eat you too… farms you gathered, were screwed, specially those with small paddocks, nowhere for the animals to run from the dead.

You really wanted some eggs and rice right now, you never liked beans.

You chuckled just thinking about it, oh the things you had to eat now…

“What’s so funny?”, asked Rick, truly interested, you only shook your head

“I was just thinking how I wish I could eat eggs with rice right now, I never liked beans, and then I remembered we are in the middle of the apocalypse”, you laughed, and despite the surreal of the situation, everybody laughed

“I would give everything for some barbecue ribs”, muttered Abraham

“Tacos al pastor”

“A cheeseburger”

“Sushi form that japanese place near my apartment”

“Ceviche”

“Some pizza from Domino’s”

And everybody shared their desired foods, well, except Sasha, she looked utterly horrified by the topic, like she couldn’t believe what you were saying

You continued after that, taking out the fire.

You kept moving.

This time, you wanted to walk back, like you have done, but Daryl, surprisingly, had the same idea, he walked behind the group, and naturally, you started walking together.

“What was your favorite food?”, you asked him softly

“Wha’?”, he asked back

“Back there we all shared what we would like to eat, from before”, you said, “what would be your food?”, you asked softly, he looked back at you quizzically

“What kind of idiot question is tha’?”, you looked down, a bit embarrassed

“Well, just making conversation”, you whispered. an awkward silence stood between you now.

“Roast chicken”, he said then, you looked up at him

“Good choice”, you said, “A classic”, he looked at you, you looked back at him, and he actually smiled softly at you.

You kept walking, in a silence that wasn’t awkward anymore.

@crazyunsexycool

#misguidedcats #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #rick grimes #the walking dead

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smoshyourheadin · 3 months

Note

spencer agnew visiting reader at work (they can work retail or anything)

good things

pairing: spencer agnew x f! reader

a/n: loverboy spencer you will always be famous

the morning rush had finally subsided at the small corner coffee shop where you worked, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the air. you were behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine, when the door chimed softly. you glanced up and saw your boyfriend spencer step in, looking slightly out of place but wearing a warm, albeit shy, smile.

"spence! hey!" you called out, genuinely surprised but happy to see him.

"hey," he replied, giving a little wave as he made his way to the counter. "thought I'd come by and check out your coffee shop. i’ve heard good things through the grapevine. apparently there’s this one barrista who is really bad at super smash bros, so i had to come check for myself" he said, clearly trying to pick fun at your “professional” level gaming skills

"well, you've heard correctly about the coffee," you teased, gesturing to the blackboard menu. "anything catch your eye?"

he scanned the options, eventually settling on a caramel macchiato and a blueberry muffin. "I'll take these, please," he said, handing you his card.

you put your hand out to stop him. “hey, it’s on the house. we have a deal called ‘cute nerds get free coffee’ but, you didn’t hear that from me.” you say, smiling at him fondly. "but yeah, um,” you drum your fingers on the counter.” “caramel whatever you wanted, coming right up," you said, quickly preparing his order.

"spence, can you stay for a bit? i was about to take my break anyway," you asked once you handed him his drink and muffin.

"yeah, sure! I'd love to hang out," he said, visibly relaxing a little.

you both found a quiet corner by the window, where the sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the table. spencer took a sip of his drink and smiled. "this is really good."

"i’d hope it would be, almost as if it’s my job to make good coffee, hey?” you retort. “so, how's your day been?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, curious about his world which is oh so different to yours.

"it’s been pretty busy. we were filming a new episode for smosh mouth this morning. lots of laughs," he said. "amanda was really good this episode, i’ll have to introduce you to her some time soon, you’ll like her."

you nodded, imagining the lively atmosphere of a shoot with him, knowing what he’s like at home. "sounds good! anything else new today? ooh! how’s alex?”

spencer chuckled, his shyness melting away as he tells you about his best friend alex, who you’ve come to love. he tells you about how in a ‘who memed it’ shoot, he had to explain a joke to shayne, who was bewildered by how he drew luke with a leftover tray in his throat.

as you listened, you couldn't help but appreciate how genuine and kind he was. it was just a moment of clarity as the sun cast over his face, his hair looking auburn in the light as you watched his eyes as he spoke, the moment seemingly making him look even more beautiful.

"so, what about you? how’s work been here?" he asked, turning the conversation back to you.

"it's been good. busy, but y’know i love it here," you said. "plus, i sometimes get total babes who come in and talk to me about their day, it’s crazy."

spencer giggled, and blushed slightly at the compliment, looking down at his coffee. "it must be nice!”

you both continued chatting, the conversation flowing easily as the minutes slipped by. it was a simple yet perfect break from the usual routine, filled with smiles.

eventually, your break time came to an end. "ugh, i should get back to work," you said reluctantly, standing up and rubbing your eyes, not wanting to think about the hours ahead.

"yeah, I should head out too. i need to go and feed jimi” he said in reference to your cat as he stood up. “but it was really lovely seeing you," spencer kissed your forehead as you walked him to the door.

"come by anytime," you said with a smile. "its always nice to have good company."

"i’ll definitely take you up on that," he replied, giving you one last shy smile before heading to the door.

as he left, you couldn't help but feel a little lighter, knowing that a simple visit from him could make you feel fuzzy any time.

#smoshyourheadin #smosh #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #shayne topp #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #courtney miller #arasha lalani #alex tran

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sorrowsofsilence · 9 months

Text

Burning Out • III

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 5.4k

General fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Three - One of Us is Broken Glass (EDITED 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whispered-yelled, furrowing my brows at him in distaste.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded, kneeling in front of me again with an expression filled with fear and distress.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled a bit too loudly as the door below us rattled once more.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah's intense gaze locked onto mine as he begged, “Just this once Y/N.”

I hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in to Noah's desperate request. His hands gripped the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as he pulled me towards him. With complete desperation, Noah kissed me intensely.

+++++

NOAH

My earbuds blasted music as I strolled along the sidewalk, glancing at the houses Y/N and I had passed by earlier. A few of them still had lights on despite the late hour, so I kept walking until I reached a cul de sac lined with townhouses. Putting on a ski mask and pulling up the hood of my sweatshirt, I adjusted my backpack straps and began scoping out each house, searching for a potential target. My eyes eventually landed on one with a dimly lit living room and the sound of a cat meowing at the door. Normally, I would avoid houses with lights on, but something about this one drew me in. Was it the cat? I've always been a sucker for felines.

As I approached the front door, I scanned for any security cameras while listening to the cat's cries from inside. When I confirmed that no one was home, and it was just the cat waiting for its owner, I knew I hit the jackpot.

Sighing to myself, I accepted that this was the house I had chosen for tonight's target. Maybe I could take a few minutes to pet the cat before the guilt sets in. Unzipping my backpack, I retrieved my metal tools and got to work on picking the lock. With my phone in hand, I timed myself to see how quickly I could do it; it was the only way to make this mundane task somewhat enjoyable.

Using a tension wrench and pick, I twisted and turned, feeling for the springs and listening for the pins to drop into place. It took some trial and error, but after twenty-eight seconds, the lock clicked open and I stepped inside.

The cat greeted me immediately with loud purring and winding itself between my legs. Kneeling down, I scratched behind its ears as I flipped through its collar with my covered fingers. The cat was large, with an orange-gray coat and white markings that swirled around its

As I stroked the orange cat, I couldn't help but smile at the name - Juice. The cat purred loudly, enjoying the attention. I stood up, knowing I had to get to work quickly. Grabbing my flashlight from my bag, I made my way into the living room. As I went to turn off the lamp to avoid drawing attention, my eyes wandered over the walls adorned with various band posters against the light green paint. My gaze stopped on the sleep token poster above the couch, bringing memories of Y/N's smiling face flooding back into my mind.

Well, I believe Somewhere in the past Something was between You and I, my dear

Shaking the lyrics out of my head, I took it for a coincidence, before looking through various drawers. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

I made my way through the first floor of the house, scanning each room for a bathroom, and searching for valuable medications that I could sell for a profit. The guest bathroom offered no luck, so I decided to head upstairs.

The stairs creaked under my weight as I ascended to the second floor, and once I reached the landing, I spotted another bathroom and eagerly opened its medicine cabinet. My heart raced with excitement as I saw various prescription bottles inside: Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem, and even cough syrup containing Dextromethorphan. This was my lucky day, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

Stuffing the bottles into my bag, I moved through the hallway towards the nearest bedroom. Juice followed me, meowing loudly at my every step. I tried to shush him, but he remained persistent in his demands for attention.

Pushing open the bedroom door, I was hit with a familiar scent of perfume. It took me a moment to place where I had smelled it before.

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to figure out where to start searching; until my eyes landed on a collection of polaroids taped above the oak wooden bed. I walked closer, and my heart sank at the sight of a woman's smiling face in each photo.

It was her house - Y/N's house.

I couldn't believe it. Out of all the houses I could have broken into, it had to be hers. Whatever sick strings fate was trying to pull, it’s turned the one good thing that’s happened to me, into a twisted game.

Feeling guilty and scared of being caught, I quickly scanned her room for any valuables before turning to leave. But just as I was about to make my escape, I heard someone opening the front door. Panic surged through me as I fought to think of an escape plan, and my hand instinctively covered my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Juice?”

It was her. Fuck.

Looking around the room frantic, I debated where I was going to hide. Closet? Bathroom? Under the bed?

“Juju baby? Where are you?”

I heard Y/N's footsteps fade towards the kitchen and took this as my cue to make a move. Every step I took across the room was accompanied by a loud creaking sound, and I cursed myself for not being more stealthy. She must have heard me; there's no way I could make it to the bathroom now.

Juice watched me with curious eyes from the corner of the room, but it was too quiet downstairs, and I knew Y/N was listening. Suddenly, Juice's head snapped towards the door at the sound of Y/N's muffled footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart raced as he ran out of the room, leaving me alone and anxious. I quickly slid behind the closet door, peering between the cracks.

The hallway light flickered on and my breath caught in my throat. Y/N screamed before her laughter echoed through the house.

"Jesus Christ, cat! You scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed.

Oh god, what am I going to do?

Juice came back into the room and landed on the bed, staring at the closet with wide eyes. As soon as Y/N entered, I knew I had to get out of there.

"What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is full," she said, shaking her head as she pulled off her sweater. This was my chance to escape.

I carefully slid out from behind the closet door while her back was turned. But just as I was about to pass by her, she threw her sweater into the hamper and turned around. In a moment of panic, I grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth with my hand to stop any screams.

She struggled against me but I held onto her tightly.

Why didn't I just run? Why did I think this was a good idea?

With a racing heart, I turned her around to face the mirror, hoping she would see that I meant no harm.

But tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered, looking back and forth between my masked face and the gun in my waistband.

Of course, she would be afraid.

I was a masked vigilante with a gun.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly, my voice trembling. I knew I had to run as soon as I let go of her. She would never know it was me, and everything would be okay because I could just delete her number and never see her again...right?

Y/N's body trembled in my arms as I held her tightly. Even though I squeezed her for comfort, I knew she was far from being soothed.

"I'm going to leave, and you're going to let me. Got it?" I stated firmly, taking a deep breath before closing my eyes and preparing myself to leave this house forever.

"Please don't make a scene," I added, releasing my grip on her body slightly. As I began to step away, Y/N turned around and kicked me with all the strength she had.

"Fuck!" I cried out, doubling over in pain and protecting myself with my hands. As I tried to recover, Y/N fled the room. I knew I had to follow her; there was no way I could escape without her knowing what happened.

"You fucking creep! You followed me!" Y/N yelled, her voice dripping with anger as she pointed a knife at me when I finally exited the room. ""You're a lowlife piece of shit! Get out of my house or I'll call the cops on your sorry ass…Noah."

I locked eyes with her, feeling a wave of shame wash over me as she spoke my name with complete disdain. How did she know it was me? My clothes were different and none of my tattoos were visible.

My body shook with pain and I hunched over, leaning on her door for support.

"Please, Y/N, don't call the cops," I begged desperately.

"Why shouldn't I call the cops?" she screamed back at me, tears streaming down her face. She reached for her phone and began to dial 9-1-1, causing my stomach to drop even further in fear. I couldn't get caught - I had too much at stake.

I pleaded once more, but Y/N pressed the button and I could hear the faint ringing of the operator on the other end. Panic set in and my hand instinctively reached for the gun tucked into my waistband. Y/N's face went pale as she noticed the weapon, her lips trembling in terror. I had never seen anyone so afraid before - not even the woman from our job weeks ago.

"Hang up," I managed to whisper through dry lips. "Y/N, hang up please."

But it was too late - Y/N had already spiralled into a panic attack, gasping for air. We sat there in silence until we heard loud knocks on the front door.

"This is LAPD!"

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, frantically thinking of a plan. Usually, if you call 9-1-1 and then don't answer their call back, they send someone to check on your location to make sure you're okay. But I didn't expect them to come this quickly.

Y/N looked between me and the door, wiping away smeared lipstick from her face. Do I hide? Do I surrender?

My gaze landed on her lips and the smeared lipstick. If only we had been making out... Wait a minute. If we were passionately kissing and she accidentally called 9-1-1, it would explain everything. I quickly removed my sweater and tank top to make it look like we had been getting intimate.

Please play along Y/N, please.

+++++

Y/N

I pulled away from Noah, trying to catch my breath as I noticed the lipstick smudged on his lips. His request was so outrageous that I couldn't help but scoff at him.

"Come answer the door with me and pretend we were just making out," he pleaded, his doe-like eyes pleading with mine. "I'll tell you everything about myself if you do this for me."

I hesitated for a moment, before nodding quickly and allowing Noah to take my hand and lead me down the stairs. He held onto my belt loop as we approached the door, opening it to reveal a uniformed man standing there.

"Hi officer?" Noah said in a confused tone, panting heavily as if we had just been in the middle of a passionate make-out session.

"Evening," the man replied, his eyes darting between us in concern.

Noah pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around me, while I played along by giving the officer a puzzled look and placing my hand on Noah's chest with false admiration.

"We received a call from this location and wanted to check in to make sure everything is alright," the officer explained, eyeing us both suspiciously. Noah must have sensed it, because he pulled me even closer and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. Despite everything that had happened between us, our bodies seemed to fit together perfectly, an undeniable chemistry between us.

The officer scanned my lips before turning to study Noah's face, analyzing our deception.

"Oh really? That's odd," Noah furrowed his brows and looked down at me. I chimed in, reaching into my pockets for my phone.

"I didn't call anyone," I said,"I must have butt-dialled while you were...pushing me against the wall," I whispered through gritted teeth, loud enough for the officer to hear.

Noah's lips curled into a sly smile and he even winked at the officer. "I was away on a trip for two weeks, you know how it is."

The officer coughed awkwardly and began to look away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Alright well, stay safe you two. Have a good night."

"We will," Noah gave him a breathy laugh.

I apologized to the officer as I pulled Noah away from the door and closed it behind us. Noah let out a breath of relief, his tense muscles relaxing.

I took a few steps back, still wary of him.

"Okay, now get your shit and go," I demanded, glaring at him. "I never want to see you again." I wiped my lips, trying to forget the feeling of his hands on me just minutes ago, his mark staining my body.

"Please, let me explain," Noah pleaded, holding out his hands and taking a step closer to me. I could see the genuine concern in his eyes and it made my walls start to crumble. But I couldn't let myself trust him again so easily, so I took another step back.

"Fine," I conceded with a sigh. "You have five minutes. And put your shirt on, it's weird that you're standing here half-naked."

I led the way into the living room and plopped down on the couch, motioning for him to join me when he came back down the stairs.

Noah sat as far away from me as possible, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. We sat in silence, both feeling a sense of deja vu after our earlier encounter in the park; this time was different though.

"So," Noah began, looking at the carpet.

"So," I echoed, watching him cautiously, "you didn’t strike me as a professional criminal."

"That's what makes me good at it, I suppose." A small laugh escaped Noah's lips before he stifled it. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I know you don't believe me, but I didn't follow you," Noah said, covering his face with his hands. "The odds are astronomical, Y/N. I genuinely have no idea how I ended up at your house instead of any other one in the neighbourhood."

"Then why did you choose this house?" I asked, raising an accusative eyebrow.

Noah shrugged, "I don't know. There's no method to it. I saw your light on and heard your cat, and chose it. That's all."

"Sure," I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, "maybe one day you'll admit that you're actually a stalker."

"No," Noah shook his head, "are you even listening to me?"

He sat up straight and leaned over his knees, staring intensely at me. "I swear on anything- God, Satan, whoever you want- that I had no idea this was your house.

“Even over the dead bodies of my parents."

His eyes bore into mine as he spoke and I felt a lump form in my throat. The pain in his expression made my heart ache.

"You have dead parents too?" I asked quietly, the tension in the room dissipated, filling with a sense of knowing.

Noah licked his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. He snapped his gaze away from me and slumped back over his knees, staring at the floor.

"My mom died of cancer," he began, "and my dad couldn't handle it so he killed himself. I was only twelve years old, but luckily my best friends took me in. They're like brothers to me."

My mouth felt dry as I listened to him. It suddenly made sense why he didn't say sorry when I told him about my own parents' death in the park. He knew that apologies wouldn't change anything and sympathy would just feel like pity, especially in this situation.

"So why were you in my house in the first place?"

Noah avoided my gaze, clearly ashamed of his actions. "Stealing, larceny, thievery - whatever you want to call it. It's one of the easiest ways to make money on the streets besides dealing drugs."

"So you're a burglar," I said, nodding and forcing a smile. "You really know how to pick 'em, Y/N," I mumbled under my breath, finding some humour in the situation.

"I wouldn't be doing this if we didn't have to," Noah replied, sinking back into the couch with his tattooed neck on display. "We owe a lot of money to a dangerous man, and this is our only way to keep up with his demands."

"Who?" I asked, my curiosity piqued despite my attempt not to stare at the intricate snake design on his neck.

Noah closed his eyes. "I can't tell you for your safety."

I let out a dry laugh. "My safety was gone as soon as I offered you to sit on my couch."

"Touché," Noah chuckled. "But that's one thing I won't disclose."

"How long have you been...doing this?" I watched him closely as he turned his head.

"Long enough," he answered cryptically.

"How long, Noah? If that's even your real name."

He raised an eyebrow. "It is. Noah Sebastian, if you want to be specific. My friend Jolly always referred to it as "the grand fuck up," and it all started when I was fourteen. Since then, we've been paying off our debt every month.”

"And what exactly is 'the grand fuck up'?" I asked, noticing the letters on Noah's knuckles for the first time as he ran his thumb over them.

"It was my first job, and Jolly said I needed to do it to become a man and join the pact," Noah explained, his eyes fixated on the letters. "I stole an expensive car without knowing it had something valuable in it. The car belonged to a notorious criminal who caught us, giving us two choices: death or working for him. We chose to work off our debt and be free once it's paid off."

"Who is included in 'we'?" I inquired.

"My three friends and me," Noah replied with guilt evident in his voice. "I screwed us all over, and it's been seven years of nothing changing."

Noah closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears and the guilt that consumed him. My heart softened, wanting to comfort him and take away his pain.

"What does your tattoo say?" I asked, shifting the topic.

Noah looked at his fingers again, blinking rapidly. "Bad omens."

"Bad omens?" I repeated.

He moved closer to me and held out his hands for me to see. Without thinking, I took his hands in mine and studied the words etched onto his skin.

"An omen is a sign of things to come," Noah explained, watching my fingers trace over the letters. "But everything that comes our way seems to be bad."

"That's no way to live," I shook my head, turning sideways on the couch to face him.

"I've always lived that way," Noah shrugged, giving a small smile.

My heart ached at his words, reminding me of my former self stuck in a cycle of hopelessness and despair. A year ago, I would have said the same thing if someone had talked to me about possibilities and starting fresh. But I had worked hard to leave that behind and create a new life for myself. It was possible, but Noah was still trapped in his never-ending cycle, unable to see any glimmer of hope or change.

“I don’t even feel real anymore unless I’m in pain,” He confided, the agony evident in his voice catching me off guard. “It's not like I enjoy this cycle of suffering, but it's become my norm. I don't know how to function without it.”

Noah scoffed and looked away, trying to distract from his words. “Sometimes I wish I could just give up. Maybe then I'll see my dad again.”

My chest clenched at his words and I sat up on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “What keeps you going?” I prodded, intrigued by this mysterious man.

“My brothers. I have to fix things for them and make up for what I've done.”

“And after that? What then?” I pressed, completely invested in his enigmatic words.

Noah fell silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, lost in his thoughts. I wanted to know what was going through his mind, but we sat in silence once again, the only sound coming from the soft ticking of the living room clock. Juice had emerged from hiding and cautiously made his way into the living room. He let out a small meow and jumped onto the couch next to Noah. After sniffing him, he rubbed his head against Noah's sleeve.

“I don't know,” he finally whispered in a despondent tone, raising his hand to gently pet Juice's fur. The hair on my arms stood up as I watched Juice melt into Noah's touch - immediately accepting him and showing him love.

“You look like you could use a hug,” I surprised myself with the offer, standing up and opening my arms to invite Noah into my personal space.

He looked at me with surprise, asking "Huh?"

"Come here," I motioned for him to stand up, and after a moment of hesitation, he did.

Noah’s lanky figure approached me, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling his body towards mine in a protective embrace. I stood on my tiptoes to place my head in the crook of his neck, squeezing his body against my chest. Noah’s breath hitched in his throat as he held himself stiffly before easing his body into our entwined limbs. His arms held me close, his head resting against my own. As his chest shook through his complacency, I breathed deeply, sighing into our hug. Noah joined me in a deep exhale, listening to our breaths as we held onto each other, exchanging memories through our hold.

I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you’re stuck. I’m listening.

“You don’t have to carry it all yourself. Humans aren’t made to be solitary creatures.” Boldly, I held my hand against Noah’s head, capturing him and all of his wounds. As I ran my fingers through his hair, Noah’s shoulders began to shake.

Can one of us be saved?

I can't forgive you, but I can't look away I have to tell myself it's better, better this way It's killing me

Soft sobs left his lips, his body vibrating through his tears.

Don't wait for the light Just fall asleep, embrace the night

The man crumbling before me was not a terrible person. He was merely a lost soul, fastened to routine and never-ending affliction.

Perhaps, I can be another step to helping him find himself. He reminded me so much of my past; I couldn’t leave him.

Even if I got hurt in the process.

+++++

NOAH

Y/N's arms were a haven, comforting me with her gentle embrace. Her fingers ran through my hair, unearthing deep-seated memories as she held onto me.

It was hard to believe that just an hour ago, everything had been a chaotic mess. Yet here I was, crying in this woman's arms. I didn't deserve such kindness, especially after invading her privacy and trust like I did.

I hadn't opened up to anyone in a long time. My only family were Ruffilo, Folio, and Jolly; they were the only ones who saw my pain. But Y/N's touch had broken down all of my walls, causing me to completely shatter. It was baffling how someone I had only met less than 24 hours ago could have such power over me. Yet here I was, vulnerable and exposed in her embrace.

How could she be so kind and selfless? She listened and understood. Her parents were gone too. She knew the feelings of abandonment.

Keep telling myself that I was the victim You were the one that pulled away I've got a cold heart, this is the sad part I don't think I can change

But the difference was that I was corrupt. I was not the good guy; my presence was tainting her.

Can one of us be saved? I feel like I'm better, better in a grave Better in a grave Better in a grave

“What’s the next step from acquaintances?” she tried to lighten the mood, giving me a small laugh.

I pulled away, my body already infected with the remembrance of her touch against my limbs. I wiped my eyes, face reddening at the embarrassment. I can’t believe I just cried on some girl’s shoulder. She was no longer just some girl.

“I mean, I don’t know if we should even be considered friends. I broke into your house.” I scoffed, wiping my nose with my hoodie sleeve as I sniffed.

“What about acquaintance-squared?” Y/N said, “I think now that I know you’re not just Noah, we’ve upgraded.”

I laughed, “Level two friendly strangers?”

Y/N joined me, the sound that left her body angelic. Part of me wanted to listen to her melody forever.

I knew then that I was fucked. Her hooks snagged me this morning, but now they were embedded, scars bound to be permanent. There was no way I could just leave her as a forgotten memory as I had thought earlier.

She knew too much.

“Sit down. I’m going to make you something to eat.” Y/N said, smiling kindly. My phone began buzzing in my pocket; I knew it had to be one of the boys.

I immediately shook my head in protest, “No Y/N, I should go.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t deserve your hospitality.” I pulled my phone out and checked the caller ID. It was Ruffilo. 32 missed texts.

Jolly: You alright?

Jolly: Almost done?

Jolly: It’s been almost two hours since I’ve heard anything.

Jolly: You should’ve been done within the first hour.

Jolly: Your location says you’re still there; where are you?

Jolly: Noah answer your fucking phone.

My anxiety must have been visible on my face when I saw the messages because Y/N noticed and asked, "Where do you live? Can I at least give you a ride home?"

I shook my head, "It's fine, I can walk."

But when Y/N checked the time and saw that it was three in the morning, she insisted, "Noah, it's not safe for you to walk alone at this hour."

I almost scoffed at her concern, but instead placed a hand on her shoulder and reassured her, "Y/N, I'll be okay."

She made a frustrated face and pouted her lips, which for some reason sent my heart racing.

"Noah," she marched towards the front door and grabbed her keys while slipping on cow-shaped slippers. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Let's go pretty boy."

"I'll walk," I said firmly, putting my phone back in my pocket.

Y/N furrowed her brows again and glared at me, causing butterflies to stir in my stomach. What is happening to me?

"You look cute when you're angry."

Y/N opened the door and pointed outside. "You think I'm cute when I'm angry? Then I'll be fucking gorgeous if you're not in my car in two seconds," she seethed.

I raised my hands in surrender and chuckled, "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

We squeezed into her small silver Chevy Spark and I joked about its size. "Could you have gotten a smaller car?"

She turned up the heat before fiddling with the music, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I must say I didn't expect to have an over 6-foot-tall thief in my passenger seat."

I rolled my eyes, knowing she had a valid point. The guilt gnawed at me once again. Y/N pressed play and the song blared through the small speakers. She turned to me and asked for the address.

"If you know where the Marlborough Motel is, that's where we're headed."

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she looked at me. "Wait, you actually live near there?" Her expression crumpled in sympathy when I nodded. But I refused to accept her pity. We lived in that rundown motel, but it was still better than nothing.

She drove out of the driveway and towards our destination while one of us listened to the song blasting through the car speakers, its lyrics piercing my ears.

You played the cards, you know I wanted to see Behind the curtain, always pulling the strings in my head

But now I think it's time to cut the ends I won't make the same mistake again

Once she dropped me off, I would leave her behind forever. I had to, for my sanity, and hers.

“I mean, housekeeping must be a blessing?” Y/N said gently, giving me a quaint smile.

“Yes, I enjoy the smell of cheap laundry detergent and a stranger filtering through my stuff.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I gazed out the car window, taking in the rows of illuminated houses and streetlights as they passed by. Exhaustion weighed down my body, but I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. Jolly was going to have a fit when I got home - especially now that I had dragged someone else into this mess and failed a job. Just another checkmark on the list of my screw-ups. And to top it off, I had nothing to show for all the trouble I went through.

But then my mind snapped back to reality as I remembered my backpack - the one with the gun inside. The one I had carelessly left behind at Y/N's house. Panic set in as I realized she would find it, along with all her prescription medications neatly stored inside. My heart raced at the thought of her finding those bottles.

My throat felt tight at the realization, but I swallowed the nerves, reminding myself that I’d never see her again after today. I’ll forget about her, and this. I won’t need to see her disappointment.

You got what you deserved And that was me You saw me at my worst You saw the worst in me

We arrived at the motel and I sighed, realizing the light was still on. No doubt the boys were still up waiting for me. Y/N and I sat quietly for a moment before she turned to look at me.

“Well, level two friendly stranger.” Y/N coughed, breaking the awkward silence in the cramped vehicle. I looked at her and forced a smile. She smiled back, but my heart ached with the realization that this would be our goodbye. I studied every inch of her face, trying to imprint her features into my memory. I knew I couldn't face her again after this.

"Thanks for this wild adventure," she chuckled. "It was definitely a confusing situation, but I'm glad you were my first criminal experience."

Unsure of how to respond, I attempted to make a joke. "And thank you for being my favourite victim."

My own words stung as they reminded me of my past felonies, but I supposed she truly was my favourite victim. If it wasn't too messed up to say something like that.

"Will I see you for your usual coffee?" She asked, hope seeping through her eyes. How could she want to see me again?

"Yeah," I replied with a forced laugh, lying through each breath. "See you then."

I stepped out of the car and turned to wave before opening the door to the motel room. My heart ached as Y/N drove away.

Goodbye.

Tell me that I'm wrong Tell me that I'm wrong

Chapter four

Tags:@crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @Anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

#burning out fanfic #smut #bad omens #bad omens cult #joakim jolly karlsson #joakim karlsson #metal #noah sebastian x reader #Nick folio #nicholas ruffilo #nick ruffilo #Noah Sebastian #Noah Sebastian smut #bad omens smut #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fic

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loverslodge · 7 days

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Trusting Love

Summery: You are a nemeton born prophet and Stiles maybe had a difficulty trusting you while you kept on falling in love with him

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: mention of trauma, angst, fluff

A/N: this is my very first work. very excited to dive into writing the world of fanfictions that have occupied my brain.

The fight with Nogitsune had ended. Stiles had returned to his pack and Scott was glad to have his best friend back. but there was still tension between them. unsaid, they both were under a guilt. Stiles was living with the guilt of harming his pack while Scott was guilty of not being the friend he used to be.

But in that scene, there was someone else too. You. You became their friends when you came new to the school. But your new arrival was overshadowed by Kira’s arrival, the clumsy kitsune who immediately became a big part of the pack. You were brought into this mess when Deaton found a birthmark on your shoulder that looked like Nemeton. You had walked in the animal clinic with your cat for her routine checkup when this happened. Deaton helped find the displaced feeling of belonging in you. He helped you with the research that determined that you were born of Nemeton and that made you a beacon to the supernatural as well. That made you understand why you kept on having strange prophetic visions. They would come to you when you least expected them. But one of those visions saved Allison Argent, the anchor and soulmate of the pack’s alpha.

That’s how you met the pack and that is how you know how Scott and Stiles are feeling towards each other. Something in you wanted to make things right but the distance between the two kept on growing and the anxiety of not being close enough to either of them to talk about this was also not helpful. Soon, Scott had a beta Liam and the distance grew.

Stiles was always there for Scott though and you saw that. Your eyes, involuntarily, would always follow Stiles. You knew that Stiles was deeply into Lydia and now was dating Malia, who was the first one to lend you a friendly hand other than Kira. The girls of the pack had taken you in quicker than the boys which you understood.

But hearing good things about you drew in the boys one by one except Scott who trusted you as soon as you saved Allison. It started with Issac when you helped him get hold of his wolf because he hallucinated that he was trapped in a closed space. It came to you as a surprise when Derek started trusting you after you rushed into his loft and dragged him out before he would blow up along with his house. Liam came to you one day with a little claw problem but you fixed it up by helping him get out of his own head. Even Parrish took a liking to you when you helped him get closer to discovering who he is by providing vital information. It was Stiles who took his sweet time. He had gone through so much so you understood his distance, especially when you were born of the thing that nearly killed him and his friends.

Lydia was the first one to tell you that she knows you have a crush on Stiles. Allison overheard her and now she knows too. The three of you decided not to tell anything to Kira because of her clumsiness. She is more likely to spill secrets than turn into an actual fox which was a high possibility and telling Malia was completely out of the question.

Pack meetings would happen often and being that close to Stiles was getting out of hand. Your brain would fuzz up and your heart won't calm down. Every supernatural in the room probably knows about the raised heartbeat by now. It was Scott who held you back after the meeting. Lydia was waiting for you in her car. “Is everything alright?” Scott asked you worriedly. “Yes I am fine. Nothing is wrong. Everything is ok.” You rambled before stopping yourself.

Stiles walked into the room to talk to Scott and your heart skipped a beat. Scott’s eyes widened and you knew he found out. Before he could say anything, you jumped up and took off without a second glance. You sit in the car with Lydia when you let your mind drift to Stiles. You have always wanted to know what he thought about you. You muster the courage to ask Lydia to do you a little favour. She smirked as if she already saw your question coming and agreed to follow up on it. But you had to meet Stiles, way before you got the answer.

You became the pack historian and researcher along with Stiles. Because of your lack of superpowers except prophetic visions, you weren’t exactly an active member on the field. Stiles, having more experience than you since the beginning of the tale, held a bit of a superiority to you regarding research and history. So you decided to do something about your lack of work. You pulled a few all nighters but finally finished writing the tale of true alpha and his pack with utter detail.

You brought your document with you when you had to work one on one with Stiles. It was last minute really. Till the last moment, you thought Scott and Allison were joining, mostly to help you stay focused. But now, here you are, with a bit of a grumpy Stiles and fuzzed brained you in Stiles’ kitchen. Even his dad had a night shift tonight so it was literally just the two of you.

The papers were scattered all over the counter and all the books you could find on the topic were also all over the counter and dining table. Stiles was standing near his crime board. He looked so hot. Not to be crass but you could not think anymore! Your research abandoned, your eyes roamed all over his body. You did not realize and you are pretty sure nobody else has that Stiles had started growing muscles. His freckles spread across his face and arms made him look like covered in stars. His hair looked so soft and silky, you wanted to run your hands through them. His eyes narrowed in concentration and the crinkle on his forehead made you wish you could kiss it away. His lips, oh dear his lips were so kissable. You could not move on from his lips till you heard him clear his throat.

Stiles was looking at you with raised eyebrows. You stood up from the chair and walked to the kitchen counter. “Here, see this? This is the closest to what we have been looking into. I think this is the direction we should go with.” You point to the chapter in the book and few other printed pages that match your story.

You were so much trying to avoid his eyes that you didn't realize when he stood near you, almost enveloping you into his arms. You were trapped between his arms. His chin almost rested over your shoulder and his chest squishing you against the counter. You suddenly became more aware of the situation. Was he doing this on purpose? Does he like you? Did he know you are in love with him and was teasing you?

You straightened yourself and turned around just to find his lips almost on yours. You look up to see his eyes on your lips. Your thoughts, barely formed, are shattered, when Stiles’ lips meet yours. Your eyes close itself and your lips kiss him back. Your hands make their way to his neck and pull him even closer. His one hand wraps around your waist and the other holds your face. The kiss grew heated, urgent. His hand slipped in your shirt but just to hold you tighter. You finally had the chance to roam your hands in his hair. Your breathing was going ragged and his scent had filled in your heart.

He slowly pulled away and looked right in your eyes. You were looking for questions but he was not going to answer them. The look in his eyes was bright enough to tell you that what happened was a mistake and should never have happened. You pick up your bag and laptop and walk out of the door leaving Stiles standing right where it happened.

You told Lydia, Scott and Allison everything. You knew that Stiles had told Scott about what had happened and you knew that Scott knew what Stiles was feeling. But you did not want to know. Your fear of rejection had taken over you and you left the question at the back of your mind.

Stiles did everything to avoid you. Even in the classroom, he pretended to study. You sighed and dragged yourself through the day. The kiss just won't leave your mind. It gave you tingles, butterflies, hell, the whole zoo was still jumping in you every time you think about it. You confess to yourself that you were aroused. Not that it was shocking since thinking of Stiles was usually your way to enjoy yourself. You did research on your own and forwarded your findings to Scott.

Lydia tried to talk to you about Stiles but you cut her off and told her you were not in the mood. Two weeks had passed since the kiss and every time you saw Stiles, he avoided you very obviously. Scott would always look at you apologetically before running off after Stiles. The pack divided itself into two. Malia was also nowhere to be seen. You wanted to talk to her. You wanted her to know that stealing Stiles was never your intention. You talked to Kira as well. She understood why you did not tell her and forgave you. Allison, Lydia and Kira arranged an intervention for Malia to get her to talk to you. Malia would not say anything. She lets you finish talking for the first time before jumping to conclusion. Once you were done, she sighed and held your hand. She told you that she had broken up with Stiles way before any of this happened. Stiles had grown distant and the pack took up so much of their time, that a breakup made much more sense. She told you she figured you liked him but did not say anything till you told her yourself. It seemed that things were healing around you.

Scott had run out of patience. He wanted Stiles to not mop around and so he gathered the rest of the pack and ran a plan. He trapped you and Stiles in Derek’s loft. Derek was against it but then again, he wasn't exactly around to oppose. Scott told you that this is an important pack meeting and this time you cannot avoid Stiles. You said yes. You showed up only to have the loft door locked behind you. You look around to find Stiles sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands.

You walk up to him and ask him if he is alright. He looks up and you see tired eyes. Worry take over you and sit next to him with your hand on his back, caressing him. “Are you alright? You need to sleep, Stiles.” Your soft voice makes Stiles look at you. “Why, Y/N?” he whispered. “Why what?” His question confused you. “Why did you let me kiss you? Why did that kiss leave me senseless? Why do I trust you even though I don't want to? Why?” Stiles’ questions stumped you.

“I cannot answer any of those questions but one. I let you kiss me because I wanted you to.” You gulped. It was time to tell him how you felt and you were not going to hold back today. “I let you kiss me because I am in love with you.” You move away from Stiles, ready for rejection.

You feel his hand on your wrist and before you know, he pulls you on him. His head rests on the armrest of the sofa and your face lands very close to his face. He wraps his arms around you and traps you on him. Your eyes widen. You don't know what has gotten over Stiles. He lifts his head and brushes his lips against yours. You capture his lips and hold his face. You lay his head on the armrest and this time, you control the pace.

The kiss was slow, soft. Stiles put his hand in your hair, angling you towards more passion. His other arm lifts your shirt and snakes his arm around your exposed waist. The kiss got more urgent but you wanted to hear Stiles say that he at least liked you. But Stiles’ kiss would not let you. He moved his lips from your lips to your neck. Your moans fill up the empty loft. He nibbles your neck, trying to leave a mark. You run your hand through his hair and your moans vibrate in his ears. Satisfied, he kisses your cheek and lifts your face to look you in the eye.

“I do like you. It might take me time to reach love but I would like to be your boyfriend. I really do like you.” He sits up with you still on his lap. He leans his forehead on yours and kisses the tip of your nose.

“Maybe this is why you trust me?” You brush his hair in place. His hands in your hair, detangling them. His soft gaze is on her. He cannot believe he was ignoring his feelings all this time.

He saw the pack trust you but the Nogitsune had messed him up. He wanted to talk to you but the pack was always near you and then he started dating Malia, just because. Maybe he wanted her attention. He got jealous seeing her talking to other pack members. It made him question if he was good enough for her. He had lost opportunities. Malia breaking up with him was probably the best thing that happened to him. The night they had to research together, he was thrilled. He pretended to stare at the crime board longer than necessary when he saw you staring at him. He liked how it made him feel. He couldn't hold himself back. He had to kiss you and he did. It felt like a relief, like he could finally breathe. And now, after a long time agonizing, thanks to Scott, he was able to kiss her again and tell her he wanted to be with her.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf #fanfiction writing #fluff #angst #nemeton

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nekohime19 · 5 months

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Mini Mac #1 : Peach-thief vs Monkey King

Okay, so I rewatched Arrietty and this Au popped into my mind. I call it the Mini Mac Au!

For now it's just thoughts, ideas and short chapters like this one.

Will I write more about the Mini Mac Au, 🤔 idk, maybe

For now enjoy the first meeting between Wukong and Mini Mac.

Sun Wukong was staring at the bowl of peaches put on his mahogany table, gaze sweeping over every inch of pinkish skin filling the wooden bowl. “Live in a house”, they said. “You're the Monkey King, you need a palace”, they whined. It was the last time Sun Wukong ever listened to his sworn-brothers. While the stone mansion in the water-curtain cave was nice, it was also infested with pests.

Peach-stealing pests.

The Monkey King could be forgetful at times, he missed a few gatherings with his sworn-brothers and some grooming sessions with his troop, always too caught up in the present. Maybe he ought to work on this forgetfulness of his, he wouldn't like to be known as the promise-breaker. However, if there was one thing he never forgot, it was his peaches.

He could forgive one missing peach. Maybe one of his lil sun was feeling particularly hungry and how could one resist the tempting sight of a ripe peach ? It happened before, it could happen again.

He could, with a few grumbles, forgive two missing peaches. Maybe he ate them in a particularly late hour and forgot about it, he often forgot about the peaches he ate after drunken nights with his sworn-brothers.

Three missing peaches, however, was where he drew the line. Three missing peaches meant someone was daring enough to steal from him. Three missing peaches meant he needed to kick some thieving-ass.

“This house is not big enough for two peach-lovers!” Huffed the Monkey King as he took the staff hidden in the hollow of his ear, eyes surveilling every nook and crannies of his house.

He was startled by the sound of something hitting the floor, he turned around and gasped when he saw his peach-bowl flipped around like the unfortunate victim of a petty cat, peaches scattered on the floor. When he picked up the fallen peaches, he realized one more was missing and hissed through his fangs.

This meant war!

The thing about peach-thieves, realized Sun Wukong after a few days, was that they were incredibly slippery. The sage did everything he could ever think of and everytime he was defeated.

Standing before the peach-bowl through the whole night, staff in hands in case he needed to do some butt-kicking? He woke up the next morning with one missing peach and an odd powder in his nose. A sleeping medicine he realized after a few minutes of observation, one homemade and very efficient.

Laying traps around the ripest peach and placing it in the middle of the house? He woke up with the traps on him, and two missing peaches.

Hiding the peaches in a sealed safe he bought the monkey way (AKA stole) and burying the safe in a location only known to him? Somehow, he was still missing two peaches the next morning.

Sun Wukong was beginning to fall into madness, he was also making his own sworn-brothers insane with his rambling. This situation was clearly beginning to wear everyone down. One evening, after one week of suffering, Azure Lion gently gave him a rather pricey magical device made to chase away the pests hiding in one house. Apparently the whole sworn-brotherhood saved money to buy it, something about “preserving their sanity before it's too late”.

Sun Wukong put the device in his peach-bowl and waited through the night, he promised himself to stay awake, yet he failed after one hour and began to snore rather loudly while leaning on the couch. He woke in the dead of the night when the device put in the bowl began to howl like a dying wolf. The Monkey King winced, ears folded, but approached the bowl nonetheless.

What he found inside wasn't something he was prepared for.

Sun Wukong thought the peach-thief was either the smartest mouse in existence or some sort of unknown parasite he awakened after finding the old stone mansion. Instead he found the prettiest macaque on earth, folded on himself, paws on his ears.

The sage, after picking up the jaw he dropped, carefully took the doll-size black-furred macaque in his hands, now uncaring of the device blasting his ears off. The lil guy was clothed with bright green leaves, two were weaved around his waist, another was fastened around his chest like a makeshift sling. He was the size of the sage's hand, fur puffed up in alarm as he tried to curl on himself. Sun Wukong panicked when he caught a whiff of blood and immediately threw the blasting device over his window.

The lil guy blinked slowly, hands lowering as he tried to take note of the situation. Sun Wukong gasped when he saw six ears unfold, the tiny lil appendages glowing softly in the night. The macaque stiffened when he heard the gasp, he turned towards the King (his striking golden eyes piercing Sun Wukong's very own being) and hissed.

“W-wait, I'm not gonna hurt-” Sun Wukong didn't have time to end his sentence, the lil guy took something from his makeshift sling (something resembling a vial) and threw a handful of powder in the King's face. Sun Wukong coughed, and accidently let the lil guy escape. The sage wanted to go after the lil macaque but he was seized by a sudden headache and fell on his butt.

As his eyes closed and slumber overtook him, Sun Wukong thought of those striking eyes and felt his heart skip a beat.

He was in love.

#Shadowpeach #Mini Mac Au #Simp Sun Wukong #Mac is a lil gremlin #You want a millenia old monkey the size of a doll? You got it #Shadowpeach fanfic #Shadowpeach prompt #LMK #Tiny Macaque

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 1 year

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Comfort {Sebastian Michaelis}

A/n: So obviously I didn't write this now, it's actually part of one of my ✨️unfinished✨️books and it has nothing to do with Sebastian. But in honour of black butler season 4 announcement I thought I should post a little something. Obviously I know we know nothing about his past. Keep in mind that this takes place while Sebastian was still human. Anyways Enjoy

Pairings: Sebastian Michaelis x fem!reader

Warnings: gossiping, bad mouthing, hurt/comfort

“Good morning, my love.” Sebastian said and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. A kiss on his lips was what he received in return before diving in the breakfast you had so kindly prepared for him. “Have you eaten?”

“I ate on my way back here. I bought three croissants.”

“I suppose you went to the bakery near your house?” You took a deep breath before answering. That was when Sebastian knew something was wrong.

“No, actually I went to the bakery near the church.” His eyes farrowed at the sound of that.

“The church is further from here than your house. Why?”

When you didn’t meet his stare, he set the trait aside, at the black wooden nightstand and with his right hand, made you turn your head to face him. You still averted his gaze though.

Sebastian could see the pain and anger in your eyes. He had to learn what had happened!

“Love?” you didn’t respond. “(y/n) look at me.” He took your hand, gently pulling you close so that your face was at the same level with his. Still, you hesitated.

Sebastian let his eyes travel to Othelo, your cat, who was now trying to reach the food trait.

“People are scared of us, Sebastian.” You whispered when he wasn’t looking.

His heart sank at the words. He knew that it would get to this point someday, but hearing it from your own lips was still painful.

His family, even though they were rich and bearing a very important title, didn’t have a good reputation in the village. Whispers and gossip didn’t mean anything to him. He had gotten used to them after having to deal with them throughout his entire childhood. Sometimes he even wondered why your family even let you play with him as kids.

Of course the main route of the problem was that damned cemetery. His grandfather had built their estate behind the cemetery for an unknown reason to him. That was the reason why most of the villagers called him and his late parents ‘The Haunted Family’. It had followed Sebastian and his family for as long as he could remember. Despite the wealth and power that his family held, they were always considered outsiders in the village. They lived in isolation, away from the rest of the community, and few people dared to cross the threshold of their grand estate.

But even though their neighbours kept their distance, they couldn't avoid the gossip and malicious rumours that circulated throughout the village. Some claimed that the estate was built on top of ancient burial grounds, and that the spirits of the deceased walked the halls at night. Others whispered that the family was cursed, and that any visitors who stayed too long would be haunted by the ghosts of past residents.

Sebastian knew that none of it was true. He had lived there since he was a baby and nothing scary had happened. It was pure superstition.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder why his grandfather had chosen to build the estate so close to the cemetery. It was a strange decision, and one that had only brought trouble to their family. Sebastian knew that he couldn't change the past, but he could ensure that the future was different. He would never allow anyone to treat his future wife the same way his family had been treated for generations. He would break the cycle of fear and superstition that had plagued the ‘Haunted Family’ for too long.

“They don't trust us. They think we're... dangerous.”

He drew you closer, holding you in his arms. “Don't listen to them,” he whispered. “We are happy together and that is all that matters.”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. You felt safe and protected in his arms, and that was all that mattered. Sebastian would always be there to protect and support you, and together you could face anything.

But no matter his warm embrace, the anger was still there. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get the image of the ladies in the bakery whispering about you out of your mind. You would never forget the way this mother with her little son crossed the street the moment they saw you walking next to them.

You had a vague idea of what this was about but the truth was that you didn’t care. You were simply angry and a small voice inside you screamed to let those people know that you were everything they whispered about. Just to see what would happen if you proved them right.

A witch.

The cursed wife.

Yet you said nothing. You just kept on walking with your back straightened and a cold expression on your face. And when it was time for you to open the cemetery gate, you turned around, raising a brow at the small group of women who followed you.

There was a pause, as if you were weighing the wisdom of speaking. “They say the screams of the ones who died due to the disease can be heard at night.” You didn’t know why you had said that, it wasn’t true, but a small smirk made its way on your face the moment you saw the terrified expressions on their faces.

“(Y/n)?” Sebastian’s voice snapped you back to reality. “You look quite pale, love.”

“Hold me a little longer, Sebastian… please.” You responded right away, not wanting your beloved husband to get a better look at the angry look in your eyes. “Sebastian…” You finally whispered and raised your head to look at him. He gently rubbed your back as he held you close. “I'm sorry,” you whispered. “It's just... the things they say about me, about us, Sebastian. I can't let it get to me, but it feels like it's eating me up inside.”

Sebastian didn't speak, he just continued to hold you close, offering a silent comfort that only he could give. But you didn’t mind.

“Don’t apologise, love. You are the kindest person I know. The most beautiful woman I have ever met and the smartest one. You are not what they say you are, you will never be.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of calmness wash over you. You took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, and then you finally allowed herself to relax in his arms.

For a moment, you forgot about the rumours and the whispers. Instead, you focused on the warmth of his embrace, on the steady beat of his heart, and the comfort of his love.

The sound of his heartbeat was all that mattered to you at the moment. And it was all you could hear until Othello began meowing. You and Sebastian broke your hug and looked at the small kitten who was desperately trying to get between you.

“What does he want now?” Sebastian sighed, trying to hide the adoration for the small kitten.

You chuckled and leaned over to pick up the small kitten. “I think he wants attention.” You said, as Othello purred contentedly in your arms.

#writing #anime and manga #anime #black butler #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian black butler #sebastian black butler x reader #sebastian x reader #black butler x reader #sebastian michaelis x y/n #black butler sebastian #black butler sebastian x reader

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arithmonym · 5 months

Note

i very much need to hear about canaan house but there are cats <3

this AU is ENTIRELY driven by my need for dulcie septimus to interact with cats and say “nyah” to them!!! and then she gets to meet camilla and palamedes, too, i guess. 😊😊😊

here’s a small snippet of what i’ve written so far:

Gideon knelt next to Harrow on the sun-warmed metal of the dock. As the Reverend Daughter prayed on her knuckle beads, Gideon relied on the obfuscation of her hood and sunglasses to discreetly observe their surroundings.

Seven shuttles had landed in all, but there wasn’t enough time to determine which House still remained in orbit. Someone was coming to meet them—and Gideon wasn’t referring to the little old man in priestly white robes, who had been sidelined on his approach by a starched-looking pair in silver and white. No—a sleek, quadrupedal creature stalked towards them, presumably drawn by the clacking of the Reverend Daughter’s prayer beads.

Gideon’s eyes widened behind her sunglasses. She recognized this animal! She’d seen a few depictions of cats in her magazines, but it was still hard to believe that she was seeing one in-person. (It was the first creature she’d seen, really—the Ninth House was depressingly thin on animal life, unless you counted the glow beetles, which Gideon didn’t.)

More cats were approaching the dock now that one of their number had bravely ventured forth. They lolled about, basking in the warmth of the sun, and it was evident from their outstretched limbs and contently-shut eyes that this was a favorite pastime of theirs.

The first cat drew near them without any fear whatsoever, and Gideon stiffened at its approach. Some species, she remembered, were poisonous. No one on the landing dock seemed overly concerned, but—

The cat struck, batting at the strand of knuckle beads with its paws, and Gideon reflexively reached for her rapier. For the first time in living memory, Harrow’s fingers stalled partway through her prayer.

“Griddle,” said the Reverend Daughter in her most forbidding tones. “Remove this creature from my presence at once, or I will delight in violence.”

Then, ruining the effect, she sneezed.

[wip title ask meme.]

#i should really work on this more!!! it delights me :-)#the locked tomb #tlt #dulcinea septimus #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #m asks #ask meme #m writes

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year

Text

The Sun Will Rise

Wake Up, Chapter 8

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: sexual assault themes and descriptions, if non-con themes trigger you please do not read. other warnings: swearing, misogynistic language, violence

This chapter is very intense. I tried to keep the S/A stuff as not graphic as possible to avoid triggering people but it is very much there and the violence is more present than any other chapter.

a/n: Today has been a fucking DAY yall. My new cat got sick (he’s ok he just ate too fast and then got sick on me and my bed which was gross), I am having issues with pay equity at work, and trying to deal with utility issues in my house. I am very sorry for the late update. PLEASE let me know how you feel about this chapter, your comments and reblogs literally make my day every week.

w/c: ~4.5k

Four years ago, you’d been desperate for a change. Despite spending thousands on a fancy degree, you had gotten nowhere in the legal field and your job waiting tables at a diner in Queens barely paid the bills, though you were grateful for the work.

Pouring coffee and taking orders wasn’t the worst job you’d ever had and the majority of customers during your shifts were sweet. You played the role of “cute, friendly waitress” well, making even the grouchiest patrons appreciate your soft smile and quick response time. Maybe this persona you’d adopted in your efforts to avoid your crippling anxiety was the reason he started looking your way. Perhaps it was your obvious desperation to be liked. Whatever it was that drew his attention, it was your eventual disinterest that kept it.

The first day you met James Lannister was a shitty one. You’d worked a double shift, meaning you had been less than perky towards the end of it, leading to stupid mistakes and screaming customers. Emotions were running high when he took a seat in your section, so his calm demeanor and attentive smile drew you in.

He’d only made pleasant conversation with you the first few visits. Asking about your day, your week, your hobbies, your interests, your family, your aspirations. Anyone would’ve been eager to spill their guts to him, he was quite charming. The way that his green eyes pooled with fascination as you spoke was almost reverent. No man in your life had ever made you feel that way, like nothing else in the room mattered.

Which is why the red flags zipped right by you without triggering your internal security system. Day after day, he’d visit your place of work after his own shift at the Pro Bono Association. He’d ask his questions and encourage you to ask your own, which led to a standing invitation to sit with him when there was a lull in traffic at the restaurant. Your shared interest in the legal system and his willingness to share a slice of that life with you compelled you to take him up on the offer.

Next came the gifts. Little things, at first. Large tips, suggestions for weekend entertainment complete with a gift card or fully funded ticket, books to further your legal studies after work. It was strange, but the attention was divine. He wasn’t an ugly man, and you’d never felt noticed like this before.

Eventually, he’d goaded you into joining him and his wife for dinner at their house. Mrs. Lannister was beautiful and cunning. On the surface, she was always polite, reassuring, more than willing to host you or have you join them in public, but there was an ominous undercurrent that you never could place. The way she looked at you when her husband turned his back was almost murderous, but you were so caught up in the idea of being wanted that you glossed over the tension between the two of you.

You were lonely, sure, but you never wanted romance or…other things…from Lannister. To you, he was a mentor, an idol. Someone to live vicariously through while in a transition period in life. But after accepting all of his kindnesses, you’d unknowingly crossed a line.

Before it all fell apart, it almost seemed like universal intervention. During a seemingly mundane conversation, Lannister clasped his hands over yours with a giddy expression. It seemed that there was an entry level position opening up at the PBA office in Queens and he thought you’d be perfect for it. Not only would it be a substantial pay raise from your current position, but there were opportunities for growth and he would be your boss.

At the time, it felt like a miracle. Your ticket to the next stage of your life. And it was, but letting your guard down for that shark ended up being the biggest regret of your life.

Transitioning into your new role wasn’t seamless, but you took it in stride. Your eagerness to take on complex projects and expand the mission of the organization impressed the more seasoned employees. Lannister began taking you to lunches, galas, drinks, anywhere that he could introduce you to his network of attorneys. It was thrilling to be thrown into the world you’d always dreamed of and received with such open arms.

For a few months, it was pure bliss. Until the night you placed your first case.

Placing the case itself was unproblematic, you were happy that you fit into the role so well—and you expressed such sentiments to Lannister who invited you over to his house to celebrate. Arriving with a bottle of your favorite wine, it was immediately clear that something had changed. The once cozy house was in absolute disarray, riddled with empty liquor bottles and boxes of feminine clothes. And, although Lannister had implied there would be others there, you found him alone.

Lannister noticed your wandering eyes and explained that his wife had left him. He told you not to worry about that and to focus on your personal success. The two of you enjoyed some good food and cheap wine, the older man drifting closer by the glass. Eventually, you felt your eyes growing heavy and he insisted that you stay over given the late hour.

That night, you dreamt of a large shadow, looking over you while you slept, warm touch dancing over your clothes. You tried to protect yourself, but your arms wouldn’t respond to the commands your brain sent. When you woke up, you found your skirt unzipped.

It got blurry after that. Lannister’s very public divorce led to inopportune inebriation, massive hangovers in the office, lewd comments, and wandering hands. While you still accompanied him to events, he began claiming you in public in increasingly repulsive ways. Holding you by the waist, kissing your cheeks, stroking his fingers over your neck, using that disgusting pet name. My little Princess.

You only tried expressing your discomfort once before it escalated. You’d approached him in his office after lunch, when he was likely to be more sober, and hesitantly asked if he would consider pulling back. You’d been met with the most terrifying display of anger you’d ever seen. You hazily recall books being thrown, hits landing along your arms and torso, insults being hurled at you.

He had made you. You would be nothing without him. You were ungrateful and whoreish and conniving just like his wife. While the memories faded, the scars from your skin splitting over the hinges of his office door still shone in certain lights.

After that his actions were deliberate. His lingering touches scalded you. Being alone with him meant sentencing yourself to torture. When he was angry, he’d call you into his office to “talk it through.” To your absolute horror, these talks often involved a locked door and drunk hands groping your trembling form.

For weeks you endured his abrupt switches between calculated insults, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, and inappropriate contact. You were barely alive, going through the motions and slowly convincing yourself that you deserved it. You’d fallen out of contact with your friends, were so emotionally fragile that a stern look from a stranger could send you into a panic attack, and you found yourself so nauseous that the first few hours of each day were spent hugging a toilet.

It was clear you needed help, but Lannister was your boss and his threats terrified you. He’d made it clear that if anyone found out about his behavior, it would cost you your livelihood. As an incredibly well-known attorney with an impeccable record, there was no way you’d win in court, he had too many friends on the force or the bench. Not to mention how new you were to the organization. Despite his growing alcoholism, your coworkers were as enamored with Lannister as you used to be, the chances of them believing you were minimal.

So, you stayed, trapped in a nightmare of your own unintentional creation. Until a position opened up in Manhattan.

Applying on a whim, you’d kept your application a secret, not expecting to even get an interview. But, apparently the managing attorney across the East River had heard your name through the grapevine because she reached out within the week to schedule a lunch with you.

The heavy weight that hung over your shoulders like a shadow has lessened considerably in the days leading up to the lunch. The possibility of escaping the hell you were living in quickly appeared like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Manhattan was beautiful and the employees of the PBA office in Midtown were ecstatic to meet you. It was the best day you’d had in months, until you got back to your own office.

Realizing you’d forgotten an important file you needed for a clinic the next day, you walked briskly through the quiet building, hoping to get in and out without running into your supervisor. Unfortunately, the world was not that gracious.

As you rummaged through your desk, the overhead lights turned on making you flinch. Your hands stilled over the file cabinet, your breath catching on your throat.

“You little bitch.” Lannister was furious if the rage dripping from his tone was any indication. “Tell me, Princess, why did I receive a call from Midtown about how happy they were to have finally met my assistant?”

You couldn’t speak, your throat constricting as if wrapped with fabric. Frozen in place, you heard him approaching and you cowered.

“Thought you could go behind my back? Leave me high and dry without a warning? You owe me, little princess. After all I’ve done for you…”

Whether from fear or something else entirely, your brain blocked out the rest of his actions that night. You came to shaking on the floor, bloody and partially undressed, but you weren’t alone. Lannister had disappeared, thankfully, but your coworker stepped into your office with a shaky inhale.

Erica was a young attorney who’d started a few weeks before you. Your emotional state had made it difficult to grow close to anyone in the office, but she’d always seemed sweet. And, fortunately for you in the end, she’d heard the commotion your boss had caused before storming home.

As your wonderful coworker helped you clean yourself up, you tearily confessed the secrets you’d worked so hard to hide. Disgusted, Erica had encouraged you to speak to HR and you’d submitted a complaint later that day with her assistance.

You owed Erica a great debt. Over the period of the investigation, she’d become a fixture in your office, making sure to keep you at a distance from your abuser. Without your prompting, she’d offered the committee looking into the allegations her full testimony. You were quite certain that her statement is the reason Lannister was fired.

In the weeks following his termination, you felt like a new woman. You’d moved to a cute little place in Hell’s Kitchen and begun your new work as a volunteer coordinator. While you still struggled with crowds of lawyers and the taste of alcohol, a good therapist and a decent amount of time had helped you heal a considerable amount.

Enough to open yourself up for the possibility of a relationship, which you weren’t sure you’d ever want after everything you’d been through. Meeting Matt had changed that though, turning ‘never’ into a ‘not right now’.

Sweet, considerate, adorable Matt who had brought you more comfort than you ever thought you deserved. Who was probably still furious with you for falling for him, but you couldn’t help but plead with the universe to send him anyway. Please, Matty, please come for me.

As the muggy van rumbled over potholes and uneven roads, you pictured his beautiful face. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How his brow furrowed with concern over the most minor harm that had befallen you. The beautiful way his lips melded with yours as a single kiss made you feel weightless. You regretted not kissing him one last time before ruining what you had.

I’m sorry, darling. Please don’t let them take me from you. I’m not ready to let you go just yet.

As Matt neared the 4th floor, a knawing pit of dread grew in his stomach. He could smell your tears, newer than those that had fallen after he’d left, but your heartbeat was nowhere to be found. Frantically pacing the hallway, he quickly noticed your suitcase abandoned a few feet from the door to your shared room. Crouching down, he tilted his head, evaluating the scene. The scent of your fear coated the floor, walls, and fabric of your bag. You must have been terrified for it to penetrate your surroundings to that degree. Underneath your pheromones, Matt shuddered with rage as the sickly saccharine fragrance of Beatrice Snyder’s reached his sensitive nose. Mingling with her perfume was a different smell, smoky and dark.

You’d been cornered by Snyder and an unidentified man, he was sure of it. Fumbling to find the right end of his key card, he threw open the door and stripped out of his suit. Given that he’d intended to share the night with you, he’d intentionally left his body armor at home. A black long sleeve tee and scarf around his face would have to do tonight.

Stepping back into the empty hallway, he fled to the stairs. While the scent of your fear only fueled his dark anger, it was strong enough to leave a trail down the stairs and out the back door into the cool night air. As inconspicuously as possible, Matt navigated through the building, dodging employees and guests successfully until he reached the loading dock behind the kitchen. Your scent stopped here, replaced by the smell of gasoline.

No, no, no. Where are you, angel? What happened to you?

Matt growled in frustration, spinning around desperately searching for any sign of you, he ripped his phone out of his pocket and pressed your speed dial, hoping that you could still reach your phone.

Receiving nothing but your voicemail message in return, he felt his fists clench. “It’s going to be ok, my beautiful girl. I’m coming.”

Replacing the phone in his pocket, he took off in the direction of the strong scent of auto fuel, praying to God that the most recent vehicle would lead him to you.

The van jolted to an abrupt stop and you slid along the dirty carpet into a seat in front of you. Your back ached from the jostling you’d gotten on the ride to whatever destination you’d apparently arrived at, and you could feel the imprint of thousands of plastic carpet strands that had melded with the flesh on your cheek during the drive. The sound of car doors slamming and the heavy footfalls following made you strain against your binds one final time.

A large, rough hand snatched your ankle, yanking you towards the night air at the tail end of the vehicle. Kicking your legs wildly, you flopped like a dying fish along the carpet as you were slowly pulled outside. The fingers at your ankle moved to wrap around your throat, forcing the airway to constrict. Struggling fiercely against your captor, you heard a familiar, rasping voice from behind you snarl, “Shut her up, you idiot!”

Lannister’s goon pressed a sharp implement against the soft flesh of your stomach. “Keep movin’ and you’ll lose a lot more than your man, bitch.”

As your squirming died down, reality set in and tears began flooding down your face. It was over. He’d won. All of the efforts that went into putting distance between the two of you were meaningless. He’d found you, and Snyder was going to take Matt from you because of it.

You were roughly stood on your feet and forced to move in the trail of Lannister and his other goon. Eventually, you were forced into a cold metal chair, binds attached to the stiff bars of the furniture. Your blindfold was ripped off, though your gag remained. James Lannister’s ferocious grin appeared in your line of vision, making you flinch. “So glad we’ve been reunited, Princess. We’re gonna have some fun.”

The group had taken you to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were broken wooden palettes and scraps of steel scattered around the floor. Holes in the sheet metal walls allowed cold, winter air to blow crisp waves of wind through the space, raising the hairs on your neck. A gaping hole in the roof above you showers you in moonlight, illuminating a small s circle around you and Lannister.

A knife glinted in your peripheral vision and you whimpered, squirming involuntarily. Lannister grabbed a fistful of your shirt, yanking you forward with a growl. “The more you squirm, the more damage I do, little princess. I’d hold still if I were you.”

With that warning, he slashed a jagged cut in your top, nicking the skin along your collarbone. A hand ran over your hair, grasping the strands and tugging so that your face was turned towards your captor’s once again. “There’s my obedient little pet. Was wondering where she’d gone.”

Bile rose in your throat as Lannister stroked his massive hands along your face, planting heated, bourbon-soaked kisses along your neck and down your chest. Prying away your torn clothes, he turned to face the goons. “Is it ready?”

“Yes, sir.” One deep voice responded from the shadows of the warehouse beyond your visible surroundings. “Before I have my fun,” Lannister stepped aside, revealing a tall dark shape topped with a blinking red light. “I’d like to record a confession, dear. For my sanity, and for the board to know the truth.”

Raising his barely slurred voice, he turned to the camera.

“State your name, for the record.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t—“ Your pleading morphed into a screech of pain as the point of the blade ripped a gash in the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“Wrong answer, pet.” Lannister took a swig from a practically empty bottle of liquor that had seemingly materialized out of thin air. A trail of blood wormed its way to the cement floor, pooling at your feet. You stared at the river of red liquid for a moment before stammering out your name.

“That’s a good pet. What’s your relation to me, my dear?” Chucking the now empty bottle aside, it shattered at your feet, spraying you with cheap alcohol and pieces of glass.

“I worked with you. In Queens.” A smaller knife plunged into the meat of your thigh and you screamed in agony. The larger of the two goons shuffled into your wavering vision, smiling as he wiped your blood from his hands.

“More specific, Princess.” Lannister spat at you.

“You were my boss.”

“That’s right. Now tell us, how did you get me fired?”

You sobbed, “I didn’t, I wasn’t—“ Grasping the knife still planted in your leg, Lannister twisted it, grabbing your throat.

“Yes you did, you miserable bitch. You ruined my fucking life. I lost my divorce settlement, my job, my house, my reputation. All because I took an ungrateful slut under my wing.” Ripping the blade from your body, he hurled you to the ground.

“TELL THE TRUTH!” Lannister roared, sending a brutal kick into your chest and knocking the air from your lungs. “Tell them that you seduced me for months and then used me to land a promotion. TELL THEM THAT YOU TOOK MY ENTIRE LIFE FROM ME AFTER I’D GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING!”

Stomping over your body again, he stumbled backwards allowing you to cough out a response. “I—I took everything f-from you. I was un-ungrateful.”

Lannister cackled, pulling you from the ground by your uninjured arm. “Turn the camera off. They won’t want to see this next part.”

The goons stepped forward to follow your former boss’s orders, but a piercing sound from outside halted them in their tracks. A horrific shriek, the sound of metal grinding on metal, echoed through the warehouse. All three men froze, looking to each other as if expecting to find the cause of the noise at the hands of their fellow assholes. Dropping you hard onto your shoulder, Lannister turned towards the source of the creaking and your head lolled after him.

As the door to the warehouse slammed open, you cried in relief as your weak gaze made out the black clad figure against the night sky. Daredevil. Your devil. He came for you. Tears poured down your cheeks and your limbs tensed, Matt’s presence drawing you in like a magnet.

Lannister huffs out a laugh. “The fuck do you want, shadow man? Don’t you have robberies to stop?” At his sides, the other men shuffled nervously, knives gripped firmly as they awaited their next command.

Matt stalked forward into the warehouse, his body stiff as it held his rage back, visible tension like that of water building against a dam. Fists clenched, he prowled an arc around your three kidnappers. “Step the fuck away from her.” His deep timbre was pitched exceedingly low with pure fury and it sent ripples of goosebumps across your bare skin.

Drawing the handgun from the back pocket of his slacks, Lannister stepped towards you once more. “Do your worst, Devil. She’s not leaving here alive.” The world slowed, as if the air around you was suddenly thick as molasses. Your eyes were processing as much as they could as dread settled in your stomach. The barrel of the gun moved across Lannister’s body and pointed at you as his meaty thumb cocked the weapon.

Simultaneously, Matt’s athletic form rocketed forward, skillfully dodging the swings from both of your unnamed assailants and leaping at Lannister. A gunshot rang and you traced the bullet as it soared towards you. Suddenly, your vision went white as pain seared through your body following the pointed metal cylinder as it tore through your abdomen. Screaming in anguish, your ears rang with a high pitched tone, the flash of white across your sight fading to black. The only thing you could focus on was the burning agony as the puddle of your blood seeped into your torn clothes. Forcefully shutting your eyes, your inhales turned shallow, and you prayed to your beloved Matthew that he would get you out of here before you took your last breath.

Matt’s skin was alight with rage as he maniacally tore through the three brutes to reach your collapsed form. The head captor’s words barely registered in his ears over the deafening sound of a gun being pulled. No. Do not let it be her, take me. The safety was undone as Matt ripped one man’s shoulder from its socket, using the falter in his steps to knock him unconscious. He needed to be faster. He had to reach you. Planting a hefty kick into the next guy’s stomach, he brought his billy club up to meet the force of the man’s own body weight bringing him down. A hollow thud of a body on cement meant there was one attacker left. And then came the gunshot.

As the bullet escaped the barrel it was encased in, Matt roared, the devil inside him fully consuming his consciousness as tackled the shooter. Knuckles connected with a jawbone, then the softer cartilage of a nose, then the lumpy space of a rib cage. Matt poured every emotion he had into this criminal, each punch holding seeds of guilt and regret and desperation.

The smell of your blood cascading over the dirty floor broke him from his trance. Dropping the battered body of your captor to the floor, he dove beside you, hands hovering over your body as he assessed the damage.

Sobbing in relief, he cupped your face as gently as he could. “It’s ok, angel. You’re gonna be ok. They’re not gonna hurt you anymore. Just breathe with me, please sweetness, breathe.”

Your shallow pants stuttered as your hand weakly grasped his shirt. “Ma-Matty?”

“Yah sweetness, it’s me. I’m right here. Gonna get you out of here, ok? Just hold on.” Ripped a strip of fabric from his shirt, he pressed it over your largest wound, biting back a pained sound of his own when you hissed. “I know, I know, angel. I have to stop the bleeding.”

The soft smell of salt melded with the metallic odor of your blood. You were crying, holding on to the fistful of his shirt like it was a lifeline. “Y-you came for me? I’m—I’m so-sorry”

Stroking your face lightly before he dialed 911, he cooed. “Of course I came, lovely. I’ll always come for you. Always. Now you just focus on breathing. In and out, sweetness. Good girl, just like that.”

At the operator’s greeting, he spit out a rough command for police and an ambulance, giving a brief description of the events that had happened. Next, he pleaded for their help. There was no way he alone could get you to a hospital in time.

“They were holding her hostage. She’s been shot, stabbed too. Lost a lot of blood. She’s still alive but she needs medical attention, please hurry.” He spit out the approximate location, scrubbing tears from his face as he pocketed his phone.

Pressing his forehead to yours delicately, he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl. It’s going to be ok. I’m so sorry.” Your hand raised shakily to cradle his nape.

“Matty,” Your voice was weak, but determined. “I—I need you to know—“

“Hey, this isn’t one of those moments, sweet girl. You can tell me later, when you’re healing. You focus on—“

“No, please.” You begged, he fought back a choked cry so that you could say your piece.

“I love you. S-so much.” You heaved a breath. “I’m sorry that I ruined—“

“Shh, you didn’t ruin anything.” Matt chided gently, tears slipping faster after you'd confirmed his previous mistake. “I love you too, my wonderful, sweet girl. I won’t let them take you from me. I won’t.”

“I’m sorry.” You choked out, and then you fell out of consciousness.

Matt collapsed against your chest, clinging to the sound of your weak pulse as his body trembled with sobs. He planted soft kisses to your hair and cheeks, stroking lightly over your skin as he willed God to save you.

The distant sound of sirens forced Matt to pry his face from your pummeled body. As the sound of vehicles approached, he made sure to alert the paramedics to your presence before taking back to the shadows. Hearing the clamor of attendants around you, he made a promise. “I’ll be there when you wake, angel. I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

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