#i take the “sorry for bothering you/dm you without asking first” as a signal that says the person who texted that is a decent human being
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kafka-ohdear · 2 months ago
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a bit of rambling about one of my experience on social media, which was reminded to me by this post. this is just me ranting and not saying that the original poster is wrong.
when i was in around sixth grade, i joined a fandom. basically it was small in my country, and almost everyone knew each other so we just send/accept friend requests. and then there was this girl, who was 17 at the time, she sent a friend request to me and i accepted it like usual. she dm-ed me randomly without even any proper greeting and just keep talking nonsense. i was literally a kid and thought it was me being too strict about it. time went on and she didn't stop, not only that, she crossed an awfully lot of boundaries. there was probably more than once she told me about her mother knowing that she was masturbating even though she knew she was texting a minor.
unfortunately it doesn't stop there either. she wrote a fanfic about people (the fans) in that fandom and shipping them without consent, no matter how weird and irritating the person involved was feeling. she started to call me randomly to rant on whatever she liked to talk about and would press the call button again until i accept the call. later on i found out my mutual friends with her were being bothered by her just like i was, she even fantasised about being pregnant with another friend of her that she has only interacted online and give up her virginity for the idol. in the end, turns out that around >30 other people were disturbed and harrassed by her, and she had been offline from social media since people decided to speak up about this matter without any proper apology.
so, now i'm really glad to see someone texting me with the phrase "sorry for bothering you" or things similar, because it says that they at least have some common sense and respect my boundaries. idk what's wrong about saying "sorry for dm without consent" but i'd rather talk to a person that greets me with that phrase than one that just slides into my dm to say some chickenshits + force me to listen to them and then disappear forever. thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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captainaikus · 3 years ago
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ℍ𝕆𝕎 𝕃𝕆ℕ𝔾 (𝟙/𝟜)
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♱ Parings : Pro hero! Bakugou Katsuki x fem! reader (They are 24)
♱ Tags : Reader cries alot and is lonely, Katsuki is an asshole in this part (sorry guys, I've been craving angst and fluff), mentions of mental wellbeing, mentions of toxic relationship, yelling, screaming, humiliation and anger, strong/ vulgar language.
All written in bold italics is a flashback.
♱ Synopsis : Realizing how much she had been neglecting herself for the man she loves and is married to, (Y/N) leaves him with the promise to come back once she rediscovers herself. How long would it take for him to break and her to heal? Would it be enough to salvage their marriage?
♱ Warnings : This would be an 18+ story going ahead, so minors. Stay the fuck out.
For the first part there is nothing much to add.
♱ Status : It’s unedited. If there are mistakes while I’m re reading it, I’ll correct it :)
♱ Word count : 4.5k words.
Tag list for this series is open, only 7 spots left. If you want to be added, feel free to send an ask as it is easier for me to answer there. Please make sure you have your age in your bio or somewhere I can see it (including dms) or I won’t hesitate to block you.
Do not copy, recreate, translate, repost or edit my works.
(Link to 2/4)
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‘In sickness and in health.’
‘To have and to hold.’
‘To cherish and to love.’
‘Till death do us part.’
“Marriages were matches made in heaven” was a household statement you grew up with.
‘Where did we go wrong?’.
It hadn’t been long since Katsuki and you had decided to tie the knot, but with the way things were going on lately, it sure seems like the bond of matrimony had been dragged out long enough for the both of you to not stay in the same room, let alone stand the sight of each of each other without another argument breaking out.
“Why don’t you fucking go take a vacation by yourself?! Why do I have to be dragged along?” Katsuki yelled from the couch as you scrolled through a list of hotel rooms. “Japan isn’t going to collapse if you’re away for a few days, Katsuki. Heroes would be on a watch like they always have and the country along with its cities would be safe. Besides, it would be a good break for us-” you tried to reason, only to be met with a harsh glare that signaled there was no room for discussion. “What does a school teacher know about a hero? All you do is take care of snot nosed brats who do nothing but run around and play all day.” Katsuki muttered under his breath before turning to leave you in the middle of the room, whilst you clutched your laptop to your chest. His voice was low enough to convince himself that you didn’t hear him, but you did.
Arguments were not new with Katsuki. At first glance, he was loud and brash which women did not usually desire in a man. Patience was key when it came to dealing with him, and overtime, loving him became as easy as breathing.
“I told you to not leave your gauntlets on the floor Katsuki! Look!” you said, lifting the heavy object off the ground, frowning when another scotch mark was added to several. “Would you calm the fuck down? I just got home after a long day of catching some goddamn villain. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with you or your whiny ass.” he retorted venomously, kicking his shoes to the side in anger while throwing his gloves on the rack beside the entrance of your shared home. With a heavy breath through his mouth, he walked past you, not bothering to fix the mess he had made. Hearing footsteps disappear behind you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek, turning towards his messily scattered boots and gloves.
‘He might need them tomorrow’ you told yourself as you bent to pick up the shoes he threw in anger and kept them in their rightful place towards the right shelf that had been specifically designed for them. Picking up his gauntlets and placing them to the side, you stared at the sunken scorch mark into the wood, wishing it would disappear. Instead, it remained there as a memory of the time you didn’t matter to Katsuki.
“Why did you come to the agency? I told you I had a conference and you walked right in the middle of that.” Katsuki said angrily, running a hand through his hair while the other rested on his hip. “I told you I’m sorry. I just came by to drop your lunch-” you said, clenching your fists by your side. “Your lunch just caused a fucking embarassment (Y/N). Don’t you know how long I have dreamt of building this agency?” he asked in a dark voice. Hot tears threatened to spill from the corner of your eyes as you stood before the tall blonde man. You heard a sigh of disappointment from his mouth before he spoke again. “No answer huh… says alot about ‘my wife’. Go home. You’ve embarrassed me enough today.” Katsuki said, closing the glass door of the office behind him, leaving you in the empty hallway. With a turn of your heel, you made a beeline for the bathroom, closing the stall door behind you, you clutched your hair in despair and stared at the tiles beneath you while your back rested against the door, watching as each teardrop left its mark on the tile. “Did you hear about what happened in the conference room today?” one of the women whispered as she leaned over the sink, re-applying her lipstick. “Ahh… are we talking about our hot boss?” another asked with a smug tone. “More like his wife.” the woman responded. “Apparently, she wanted to drop off his lunch. I swear that woman just wants to keep that man to herself.” she said with the roll of her eyes, flicking the tap to wash her hands. “Are you jealous of her Aya-chan?” the woman replied with a laugh. “I won’t deny that our boss is hot, Miko. But why choose a nobody when you can have uravity?” she said, closing the tap. “Now that you mention it, Uravity is single and she seems to be a good person in the public’s eye. Our boss certainly deserves a woman of her title.” Miko said with a giggle. Clenching your jaw, you held back your sniffles, hurt by the words they exchanged with each other, not knowing you were there to hear them. You could feel your heart ache with each pulse and your hand shake with each breath, desperate to unlock the door and leave the suffocating stall. With a violent swing of the door, you faced yourself in the mirror, feeling pathetic at the sight of your puffy and bloodshot eyes staring back at you. ‘Maybe he does deserve better.’
You didn’t dare to step foot into Katsuki’s work space again.
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“It’s like I've run out of solutions for this marriage mom.” you said sobbing into the phone while playing with stray pieces of fuzz that came out of the blanket. “Have you tried talking to Katsuki?” asked her tender voice.
“Maybe we should consider counseling?” you said, tapping the wood of the dining table as the two of you sat for dinner. With the clattering of chopsticks against the lacquered surface, you watched from the corner of your eye as Katsuki clenched and unclenched his fist over the table. “(Y/N).” came his grave voice. Never had you thought your own name could be used against you as a warning before deciding to tread dangerous waters. “If it’s with us, we’ll handle it. I already have the agency and a PR on my ass about getting my “anger issues” under control. The last thing I fucking need is my wife crawling up my ass about how I’m supposed to be a good husband.” Katsuki said in a tone that left no room for discussion.
And as always, your only answer was “Okay.”
“Counseling is the last thing he needs right now mom. He gets enough of a burden from the agency as is along with the duty of being a good samaritan and hero. The thing of least concern should be me.” You said softly into the phone.
“It takes two to tango in a marriage (Y/N). You were the one who walked down the aisle that day. And waiting at the altar was Katsuki. You are one of his priorities and you should speak about it. There have been countless times where your father and I have had our arguments and fights. Brushing it under the carpet would do no good. Talking about it would help. I know Katsuki can be brash, but I know I saw something in him when you came home holding his hand. And if it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t even accept him as my son-in-law in the first place.”
You felt your chest heave with a hitched breath at the mention of “son-in-law”. Memories began to play like an old disc, rewinding back to the day you had taken Katsuki to your house for the first time. It was nerve racking to say the least, given the brash attitude he had which caused older adults to scrunch their nose in disgust, but you knew better than to judge from the surface.
“Are you nervous Katsuki?” you asked, as he maneuvered his car around the corner of your neighborhood. He said nothing, eyes trained on the house that was at the end of the street. Killing the engine as he pulled close, he rested his head against the wheel, back hunched over. Breaths hitting the leather of the steering wheel, you reached your hand behind his back, rubbing it in slow patterns. Nuzzling his forehead further into his hands which clutched the steering wheel tightly, he clenched his jaw with a heavy breath through his nose.
“Baby…” you cooed to him. With the turn of his head, you watched as his eyes were swimming in a sea of self doubt. With the couple of years you spent knowing Katsuki, you knew how to read him at the back of your hand. It was only when there was a potential obstacle in your relationship did he become like this.
“Talk to me.” you said softly, reaching a hand out to his that laid pale on the steering wheel from clenching too hard. With a sigh, he intertwined his hand in yours, letting it rest on his thigh.
“I’ve never done this before. ‘S my first time… Don’t wanna disappoint your parents with me.” he muttered, squeezing your hand lightly. Returning a squeeze back, you rubbed your thumb against the taut skin on the back of his palm.
“Katsuki.” you called out to him in the most gentle voice possible. With the turn of his head, he watched you, eyes shifting from the way your hair to your eyes to the bridge of your nose to the curve of your lips. “My parents will adore you. Sure, you have your rough edges, but… I know you. I’ve seen you work hard day and night, seen the way you’re passionate about doing what you do and keeping on that path you dreamt of as a kid… being you is not easy, Katsuki.”
His eyes widened at your words. Never would he have imagined you to be watching him so close and thinking of his dream as a kid to be a stupid one, taking a completely different path as an adult. Moving his head away from the steering wheel, he reached out his free hand to your face, bringing it close to his. Eyes darting towards your lips, he leaned in for a soft kiss. Unlike other times, where he was eager to show you how much he cared, you could feel how soft and tender it was. Pulling away, you kissed his upper lip before holding both sides of his face in determination. “Ready to go?” you asked with a wide smile. “Let’s fucking go.” he said with a grin just as bright.
“(Y/N)?” your mother’s voice came from the phone you held to your ear. Clearing your throat from the choke up you had from replaying the memory you answered. “I’m here.”
You heard a sigh before your mother continued to speak. “Have you tried talking to anyone about it?” your mother asked in an exasperated voice.
“Oh my god. That villain you caught last week was a rather notorious one. Isn’t that right Arata?” Momo said as she slid her arm around his, her free hand holding her drink. “Heard he broke into a bank last week and had the balls for even taking over thirty hostages too.” Arata replied in a monotone voice, guiding his hand towards Momo’s hip. “Dear! Such crude language!” she shrieked, giving a playful slap to the shoulder while he chuckled.
“Pinky! I heard you had taken down another villain this week who targeted a kindergarten?” one of the reporters asked Mina. “It is important to take care of the little ones who look up to us. The operation wasn’t an easy one as children are easy targets due to them being harmless, but luckily we pulled it through thanks to the cooperation of teachers as well as other heroes.” Mina said, turning towards the cameras that were a sea of flashing lights, eager to captivate the hero who was climbing up the ranks. “Red Riot! It’s good to have you back at the agency!” one of the stocky looking men said, extending his hand forward for the pro hero to shake. “Pleasure is all mine, sir.” Kirishima responded quietly, setting his glass of whiskey down to shake the said man’s hand. You could remember standing awkwardly at the table as pro heroes talked about the work they did. Hardly a conversation for a school teacher to have. While everyone talked about busted drug deals, cartels, lawsuits and cases, you realized that they were a part of a much bigger but different world. Yours seemed to be smaller which had your family, kids studying in school, parents who would attend your conferences to discuss their child’s progress. It was easy to adapt a conversation but it was never easy to maintain it. Yet you continued to understand incident after incident as Katsuki and you stood together, each with a drink in one hand, laughing when the moment was right and humming when someone would pause at their sentence.
“So… (Y/N) tell us what’s been going on with you?” Jirou said as she leaned over the bar table. Fidgeting with the glass in your hand, you spoke. “Nothing much really… been teaching the children at school about Romeo and Juliet.”
A round of awkward looks were exchanged. Eyebrows raised at the drink in each hand with a thought before taking a sip, not knowing how to respond or what to say. “Well… that was tragic.” Kaminari tried attempting to joke before being elbowed in the ribs by Kyoka who thought it was offensive. The pro hero world didn’t have time for Shakespeare. With an awkward smile you bit your inner cheek, making a hard rule that silence during parties like these was golden.
“(Y/N)?” Your mother asked once more, disturbing your train of thought. With a deep sigh through your nose, you gripped the phone tighter before answering.
“All my friends have their own families Mom. And most of Katsuki’s friends work in the same field as him. They went to UA together and most of them are pro heroes. It’s happened times before and it will happen times again where they can’t relate to what I’m talking about.”
“I’m sure there are people at school, colleagues that you work with?” your mother asked in surprise.
Moving to Tokyo had been a bad idea. It was away from Musutafu, and had a large and bustling crowd. Shizuoka had been quiet and peaceful whilst the new bulk of the Kanto region was a walking clock. Katsuki’s friends were a common sight to see in Tokyo as that was where the headquarters for pro hero agencies were. You hoped it would be the start of a new life, only to be proven wrong day after day. You tried seizing opportunities of meeting new neighbors, only to be ushered out just as quickly as you were done with greetings. Cubicles in your school office were just as quiet, given the fact that you were in a private one. Colleagues thought you were Dynamight’s trophy wife, hastening their footsteps along the hallway anytime they would run into you. The only person you could say you had a “girl time” with was Mina and that didn't happen often given that she was in the same line of work as Katsuki.
“I do talk to a friend from the agency sometimes…” you said, shifting your position deeper into the couch out of embarrassment.
“You don’t have any friends?” your mom asked in an accusatory manner. “It’s not like I don’t have any. When we moved from Musutafu, I left nearly everything behind including my social life!” you tried defending yourself on the phone.
“(Y/N). Look at the signs. You’ve not spoken to any of your friends, living in a completely new town, and not even found a person to have a social life with?” your mother reasoned.
“At least tell me that you go out… When was the last time you did?” Your mother asked in a grave voice. Your eyes wavered, thinking of an answer of when the last was that you went out.
“(Y/N)?” your mother taunted.
“... The hike with Katsuki.” you replied in a small voice.
There was a pause before she spoke again.
“That was six months ago. So you haven’t gone out ever since you began packing your things, or moved there or when you were settled in.” your mother said.
“No.” came your reply.
“(Y/N). I know it’s difficult to abandon nearly everything and move to a new place. But… Why are you adapting to a routine Katsuki set for himself? You should go out, make mistakes, get lost someplace and find it beautiful. It won’t be long till you miss all that and actually need to take care of a child of your own, right?” your mother explained in the softest voice she could, trying not to scare you.
You could feel tears threatening to fall from the corner of your eye as reality dawned upon you. As time passed by, you hadn’t realized that you had lost pieces of yourself, all for the sake of making the man you love happy and content. Each day slowly chipping away what you were previously, leaving you with an empty shell of a woman who was too dependent on your husband. Was this one of the reasons why you thought Katsuki and you got along so well? Was there an individuality to you or were you just lost in the obsession of being your best for him and not for yourself? You began to shake as you wondered, ‘How long have I been living like this’, ‘Why didn’t I notice it earlier’. You felt air leave your lungs, your mind dragging you under water where waves swept you from beneath your feet, causing you to spiral into their deepest depths.
“(Y/N), I need you to breathe for me honey.” Your mother said calmly. “In a sequence now. Breathe in” you heard her inhale. “One, two, three, four… and breathe out.” she said, exhaling with a heavy breath. Sniffling you began to do what she did, inhaling and exhaling until you felt your heart return back to normal the feeling of waves receding into the ocean.
“Alright there we go. You’re doing great!” you other cheered as you gave her a watery laugh through the phone. “Before I go, remember, both Katsuki and you are in this matrimony together. Both of you share the same burden and responsibility both for your actions and for or against one another.” Your mother said in a soft tone. Rubbing the remaining of the tear tracks away from your eyes, you replied in a shaky voice. “Thanks Mom.”
“Don’t worry dear. Everything will be fine. It all works out towards the end… I have to go now, but I’ll call you soon okay?Love you.” she said with a hint of a smile in her voice. “Love you too.” you said before you heard the phone line go dead, ending the call.
With a drop of his keys and a bang of the door behind with his foot, Dynamight had retired for the day from the agency. Walking across the room, he opened the fridge to grab a can of beer before promptly sitting down on the couch and turning on the television. Hearing the commotion, you made your way out of your shared room, luminated by the moonlight.
“Welcome home…” you muttered in a low voice. With a grunt, he moved to kick his feet up and place them on the coffee table.
“Um… Katsuki?” you called out, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the edge of the couch, far from the corner he sat in. He hummed in response, one hand busy switching channels of the television in front of him.
“Can we talk?” you asked in a timid voice. “Go ahead… I’m listening.” he responded, taking a sip from the can, the noise from the lit screen filling up the room. “Uh… could you turn the volume of the tv down? This is important.” you replied. Not bothering to respond as his eyes trailed from left right, reading the headlines, you sighed, moving around the couch. Shaking him by the shoulder, you spoke once more. “Please Katsuki, this is really important.”
“I said I was listening wasn’t I? God,it’s like I can’t catch a fucking break when I come home to you.” he said in a grave voice, pressing the mute button. “What?” your voice cracked as you spoke, feeling a pang in your chest at every venomous word he said. “Why can’t you understand that I’ve had a fucking long day and all I need is some good peace and quiet? Do you have to run your mouth every fucking time about something? If not about dropping shit on the floor, it’s about taking a vacation. When are you gonna learn that not everything is about you?!” Katsuki yelled. You could feel tears pooling at the waterline of your eyes; not from the feeling of sadness or grief or emptiness, but of rage and humiliation. With a shaky breath, you said, “I want us to go to counseling.”
“This again? I already said no.” Katsuki said firmly. Biting your tongue in defiance, you parted your lips. “Why not?” you asked as you felt tears streaming down your cheeks. “I am not going for a check on our marriage. It’s been going great so far and I don’t need shit to hit the fan for both of us with this.” Katsuki reasoned, waving his back and forth between you and him.
“You think this marriage is fine Katsuki?” you asked bringing your wrist to wipe away at the tears collected on your cheeks and under your chin. Acknowledging your question with a glare, he turned away from you. “I don’t have time for shit like this.” he said arrogantly, crushing the can in his palm. “When do you even have time for anything anymore? It’s always about work, work, work. Do you know how much I sacrificed for you?!” you yelled. “You don’t even fucking care about anything. Do you ask me how my day was? Do you ask me if I’m eating well or sleeping well? Do you even bother to remember me by when we live in the same fucking house?!” you continued, walking towards him. “Day after day after day” you said, jabbing a pointed finger towards his chest, “I have done nothing but take care of your best interests. Not only have you humiliated me as a person, you don’t even acknowledge me as an equal. If I can respect you as a wife, why won’t you recognize my wishes and effort as a husband, Katsuki?!” you said, fury threatening to bubble to the surface.
“Every fucking time I do something for you, all you do is whine and complain about it. Fuck, I don’t even know what is wrong with me and you’re not even there to talk to about it. Is that what this marriage is?!” you cried as you shoved him back. “Tell me.” you shoved him. “Tell me.” you shoved him thrice. “JUST FUCKING TELL ME ALREADY, KATSUKI !!!” you yelled at the top of your voice, causing him to take several steps back. With nothing to say back, you felt your shoulder heave up and down from the intensity. Your ears felt like they were on fire. You watched as Katsuki stood still, breathing hard from the hits that you gave him.
“That’s what I thought.” you muttered, before going to your bedroom and packing a duffel bag. Grabbing essentials, you changed into casual clothes, grabbing your purse from the hook. With heavy footsteps across the floor, you opened the door, letting moonlight flood into the living room.
“Where are you going?” Katsuki asked from the corner of the room. He hadn’t moved from the spot of the argument followed by the outburst. “Just taking a couple of days off… maybe more.” you said, lifting a foot to step out of the door. “It’s one in the morning (Y/N). Just get the fuck back in.” Katsuki said with the wave of his arm. “I can’t go on without answers Katsuki. It’s alright for one of us to not be okay with the other once in a while… but it’s to a point where we haven’t talked to each other about it and fixed it along with moving forward. And now? It’s in a state where you’re doing fine and I’m taking the collateral damage. I haven’t asked you the reason for it as my trust and love for you gets the better of me, but how long can I take it till I break?” you said with a sad smile.
“Just please (Y/N). Let’s go back to bed and we’ll discuss this in the morning.” Katsuki tried once more, daring to step closer to you. Dropping your bag to the floor, you almost gave in.
Almost.
But your mind wouldn’t let you, choosing to let you relive those memories where he would shout, yell, scream and ignore you. Hugging his torso, you pulled him close. “I’m at my limit Katsuki and I know you. Steel to the bone and you won’t change. Please, just let me have my way. For once. I want to salvage this marriage as much as you do, but I lost myself in it. And I need that part of me back or this won’t last very long.” you said in a low voice. Katsuki could hear his shaky breath, knowing that heart of hearts, he was breaking. Circling his arms around you, he hugged you back.
“You promise to be back?” he asked in a hopeful voice with glassy eyes, caressing the skin of your cheek.
“Don’t know how long, but distance would make the heart grow fonder of you.” you chuckled, letting a few tears slip.
“Alright. Do you want me to drop you?” Katsuki asked, grabbing the keys. Placing a gentle palm over his strong forearm, you pushed it down with a silent no.
“It’s best if I do it alone.” you said, grabbing the keys from the bowl instead. Kissing him goodbye on the cheek, you walked out the door, not daring to look back, knowing that you would stay.
Revving up the engine of the car, you pulled out from the driveway, while Katsuki watched you silently from the window, hiding his figure silently behind the curtain. Driving along the dark roads of the city that never slept, you thought about just how far you were willing to break yourself for the man you love.
Enough to love him through every crack.
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ajbwasntwriting · 4 years ago
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Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 3. Shorts Fired
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This chapter originally contained Daryl...Then I remembered that conflicted with Canon and changed it, but he’ll appear soon. Additionally, I got a request to start a tag list so if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me
Also in the event that the link’s don’t work I’ve started adding a hashtag to this series: AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU
I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires. 
“This is what we found sir,” Simon said, his team depositing a bag, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a knife with your name engraved on the side. Negan picked up the knife, eyeing at the dry blood on the blade.
“She put up a fight” he commented, a smirk on his face. “That’s my girl.” He looked back at Simon from his seat in the meeting room. “We’ll find her” Simon’s men looked at each other nervously. Simon found his mouth dry and had to clear his throat to keep talking.
“Sir...We found her...she”
“Then where the hell is she?” your father asked, interrupting Simon as you would interrupt him. The room went incredibly quiet.
“She turned, sir.” Simon spoke. Negan froze for a moment before falling back into his chair. “We...captured her... if you’d like to see.” Wordlessly Negan rose from his seat and rushed towards the exit, specifically to the van Simon had been out in.
The shutter raised and low and behold, there stood a walker. Her face had been devoured but she was wearing your clothes, right down to the military boots you never took off, despite how many nice clothes and shoes he’d find for you. ‘Just encase’ you said.
Looking at the walker growl and reach for him, Negan felt numb. He now realised he hadn’t dropped your knife. “Gimme a minute” he ordered, climbing into the van and closing the door behind him.
Now it was just Negan and the walker, he began to tear up. “I’m sorry y/n.” he whispered before reaching behind and destroying her brain. It fell and he cradled her in his arms as he wept. “I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you safe, princess.” he rocked back and forth gently, stroking it’s hair as he mumbled to himself “I’m so sorry”
The night of your escape you broke into a thrift store to get some new clothes, though it’d hardly count as breaking in as whoever owned it was probably dead. You found some old khakis, a tie-dye shirt, and a black sweatshirt that had seen better days. It wasn’t much but it was warm. If only they had socks. You pulled on a pair of trainers and ran, wanting as much distance between you and Sanctuary as possible before your old man got back.
From there it wasn’t easy. Food was gone, ammunition didn’t exist, and the closest thing you had to a bed was a car with the doors closed. Anyone else would crack under these circumstances, but not you. You had experienced stuff arguably worse than this. You were a trained soldier with experience on foreign battlefields, so a few undead going bump in the night wouldn’t stop you from sleeping. What did keep you awake was the memories.
“You shouldn’t take those with booze, ma” you interjected, your mother just gave you a filthy look from over the edge of her bourbon glass. “I am the mother, you are the child. Remember your place.” was the usual reply, and that was the reply you preferred. It meant she’d spend the night cursing you out, picking apart your flaws, and blaming you for your old man’s fooling around. The words were easier to deal with than dodging a flying glass.
You were 15 when your mother got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and your world went from sunshine and rainbows to cleaning up after your mother passed out so she wouldn’t be embarrassed in the morning and letting your dad in at 4 in the morning so the neighbours didn’t see him. In the morning your mother would make you pancakes to say sorry, even though any movement would hurt her. Your father would slip you twenty bucks for ‘being a team sport’.
You had accepted that your mother just didn’t have the nerve to confront your father on all his cheating because she was worried she’d leave him, and your father was an idiot that was more bothered by the parents at the school he teaches at finding out that he screwed around then what he was doing to your family. You accepted it. You understood it. That didn’t mean you forgave them. It also didn’t mean you wouldn’t call them every chance, that you wouldn’t send a hundred letters to them every year, that you wouldn’t kiss their cheeks while declaring ‘I love you’ to all that heard.
Every morning you woke at what you believed to be 6 am. It had been hardwired into you from your service. You’d start walking in the same direction, trying to get as far from Sanctuary as possible, though your speed was slow and you often stopped at towns or houses to scavenge. Now and then you’d stumble into houses that had gardens or farms that had been overrun. Usually, there were more walkers than food but you had secured a rather sharp knife to replace the arrow you’d been using to bring down walkers quietly. You also carried your things in a child’s school bag, being the most together bag you could find at the thrift shop. The bright pink glitter didn’t go with your desire to stay low but sacrifices had to be made, such as hygiene.
Your form was weak from a strong lack of food, your feet were raw from the constant walking, you were constantly exhausted. Taking down walkers with the kitchen knife had become muscle memory. Hand on chest, knife in head, hand on chest, knife in head, and so on. You felt more dead than alive when a gunshot fired somewhere behind you. You swirled around to see a clearly a few steps right of you and a walker being downed. You put the math together and knelt into the foileage. “Sasha what are you doing?” you heard a lady call from far off. A moment later you noticed your sleeve feeling more and more damp. A quick glance confirmed blood, making you curse under your breath.
The gun shot attracted more of the biters out of the forest and into the clearing to see this Sasha character, but three were more interested in the smell of your blood. You cursed again, jumping back and taking steps away from the clearly. You reached for your gun on instinct before realising it would probably attract the people, and you didn’t want that. To make matters worse your shot arm was your stabbing arm. Flexing the arm caused the blood to start pouring so you took the kitchen knife in your other hand, the walkers approaching you. Having little time to react you kicked one back, sending it into a bush while another lunged at you. You narrowly sunk the knife into its skull, though the combination of it falling on you and your lack of good footing sent you backward, banging your head off a tree. Your head began ringing when the third reached for you over the lunger, giving you enough space to swing your arm and shove it through it’s temple.
You turned to get the two corpses off you, settling into a squat against the tree as the first offending walker got to its feet. You flipped the knife in your hand as it wandered towards you, using the tree to stand up quickly and stabbing up through its neck. The last one fell and you heard more shuffling through the woods. “I’m coming with you”. Crap it was those people. You ducked behind your support tree, the sudden exertion making your arm bleed. You clasped a hand over it as you bit your lip, watching from behind the tree. Three women walked by, two following another with a large rifle. ‘Are they from an outpost?’ you thought. You waited a while for them to pass with short breath, not wanting to risk them looking for you.
When you were sure you were in the clear you ran, making note not to run in the direction they came from or were heading. You ran and ran until you found a gas station. There were a couple of walkers in there but you needed something to dress your wound. You took a step back and shot through the glass at the first, getting the second with your knife when it stumbled through the shattered window.
Walking in you noticed it was a treasure trove. Most of the shelves still had their goods and the first aid pack was still there. Taking off your shirt you were relieved to find the bullet had only grazed you and the bleeding was slowing. Still, you cleaned and dressed the wound, popping a lollipop in your mouth for good measure.
You only got a few bottles of water and some stale chips in your bag when a car pulled up. You dove behind the counter without thinking, pulling the walker you shot over your body. Cracking glass signaling they had walked in.
“I thought this place was locked up” a man’s voice spoke out.
“It was” another man’s voice replied.  “Whoever broke in didn’t clear it. Come on”. You heard shuffling, then felt someone kick your leg.
“Anything behind there?” the woman called.
“Nah, just a couple of dead ones.” you tried to maintain your stillness when what you assumed was one of the men, stepped on the back of the walker, and pushed the air out of you. It took everything to maintain your quiet when he reached for your bag, cutting it off your shoulder. You stole a look to see a man with long messy hair, a button-up opened over a t-shirt, and a sheriff’s hat rustling through your stuff.
“This one had a first aid pack,” he called, pulling everything from your bag into his own. You made a mental note to kill this man the next time you saw him.
You lay as still and as silent as you could until you heard the car drive off again. You pushed the dead off you and dived for your bag, looking through it just to confirm what you already knew. He took everything. Your bullets, your food, everything. You threw the bag across the floor cursing. You sat on the ground, your head in your hands. You stared at nothing until an old map caught you. You slowly pulled it out of the hole it had been shoved in between the counter and the register and unraveled it, wanting something to look at other than your distinct lack of supplies. The map must’ve been used by the previous manager, because your current location was clearly marked and the DC city limits weren’t that far out. Your eyes lit up
‘The only place left with stuff would be the city. They had a refugee centre.’ you thought. You sat there a moment longer, soaking in your helplessness. Standing up from behind the counter you realised how badly they’d empty the place. The shelves didn’t even have the dust on them anymore. You took off your shirt, using it to pick up a piece of shattered glass, then walked over to one of the walkers to start carving it open. If you were to brave DC without weapons you’d need a disguise.
After soaking yourself in undead guts you repurposed the walker’s shirt to hold your make-shift blade. The walk into the city was short once you cut through the woods. As expected the road was lined with cars and walkers, non paying you any attention. You walked into an abandoned RV to check your wound, making sure no infection had seeped in. Once you opened the door some walkers lunged at you, making you step in quicker. Immediately your nose filled with a vile stench, causing you to vomit into the entryway. In your new position, bending over with your hands on the floor sitting in your vomit, you could see the cause of the smell from the corner of your eye.
You walked over slowly to the back of the rv in case they turned, but also to clarify the image as the bodies had been decaying for so long. The blood spatter confirmed a gunshot. It looked like a woman in a summer dress and two young children. Pinned to a board above the bed were some pictures. Smiling children, older people with drinks in hand, and a happy family on the beach; A mother, a father, and two children barely out of their toddler years. You looked up and down the alley, no sight of a fourth family member.
“Coward ran” you mumbled to yourself. The covers lay at the bottom of the bed. You grabbed them and pulled them over the family.
A little bit of scavenging brought you a new ruck-sack in a dirty green colour, two bottles of water, some painkillers, and a pair of socks. You celebrated silently before you put them on, already feeling the old trainers rub your feet raw. As you closed the presses something in the bathroom cubby began to move. Clawing at the door but not sure how to get out. If he couldn’t get out then only one thing came to mind.
“Guess you weren’t a coward.”
You opened the door, the walker falling out and quickly meeting your glass, it breaking off in his head. You picked him up and laid him down with the family, noticing he was wearing the same shirt as in the picture above the bed. You felt jealous of the family, but you pushed it down. Now wasn’t the time. As luck would have it the walker was keeping a hunting rifle with a low power scope in his cubicle, along with five bullets. You picked it up, looking it over. You hadn’t used one of these before the world went to shit but what time better than the end of the world to get a refresher lesson.
Getting into the city was relatively easy, finding your way through the crowd, down an alley, on top of a garbage can, and in through an old apartment window into a complex with only a couple of the dead following you. They groaned and reached into the higher window, but you were safe in someone else’s sitting room. You jumped up when another walker strutted in from another apartment room. All you had were two guns and firing either one of them would drag too much attention.
You looked around for anything to use but it was on you before you could act, pushing you back towards the window. Pinned to the breaking frame by the undead and more of them reaching for you from the back you pushed against it with all your strength, its jaw snapping at you. You took in a deep breath and pushed back with all you had, sending it to the ground running to the other side of the common space. It rose confidently from behind the couch looking around there was a tv to your left and a dead potted plant to your right.
It walked around and lunged at you just as you got the potted plant off the floor, swinging it around and knocking it to the ground. Before it could get up again you dropped the plant on its head, followed shortly by the tv for good measure. You leaned against the wall, causing it to crumble and collapse, sending you back into a child’s bedroom. You coughed as the dust fell on you, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Looking into the sitting room you now noticed it featured a kitchen area, complete with a full block of knives staring right back at you.
You gathered up the knives and went up a floor, wanting some distance between the dead and yourself. It seemed the complex had been cleared, but that made sense since it was the city. You found an apartment with a street view and made your camp, pulling an old mattress from the bedroom into the common room to keep watch. You opened a window to clear a little of the dust from the room. You’d sleep here tonight then move more in the city later. You found some books in the apartment. ‘Jane Eyre’, ‘Little Women’, ‘Get Slime in 40 days’. It painted the image of some sad spinster trying to better herself to get back at the world. ‘The Woman’s Guide to Single Life’ added a frame to that image.
“Come on!” you heard a man yell, followed by a gunshot. You fell to the ground instantly, crouched over, and crawled to the window. Peering out there was a sight to behold. It was the same hat-sporting man, no a boy, and an older man with a beard with a herd on their heels. They’d be at your window. You loaded a bullet in the chamber of your hunting rifle, using the scope you had it on the older man’s head in moments since he had a larger bag on his back. All you had to do was squeeze the trigger and he’d be down, dropping his stuff and maybe the other would be eaten and you could take your stuff too. All you had to do was squeeze that trigger.
“Dad!” The boy screamed out when a dead grabbed his bag, your scope moved in a moment and the walker was downed. They looked around wildly while running. You made a rash decision and stuck your head out the window and yelled to them as you reloaded the gun.
“Hey you two, round the corner there’s a busted window! Get to it!”. They seemed to understand and began sprinting. You took down one behind the man that had gotten too close, then another. You heard a thump downstairs just as you ran out of ammo.
You walked out of your apartment just as they came up the stairs, you pointed the gun at them in defense. “Stay right there”
The two stood with their hands up. They glanced at each other and then you. The older man began to speak. “Thank you for-”
“If you wanna thank me, give me back my shit” you cut him short.
“We didn’t take anything from you.” the boy in the hat replied.
“Three bottles of water, two packets of chips, and the first aid kit.” you retorted, noticing the shock in the man's eyes. You motioned the gun to the boy “You cut the bag off my arm back at the gas station. The pink glitter thing.”
The man swallowed hard “We can’t. That stuff. We have people that need it-”
“I could have fucking killed you. Is that not worth shit?” The silence that followed made it all worse.
“Listen, I’m Rick Grimes, This is my son, Carl” He motioned to the boy behind him “We come from a place. A safe place with walls. If you let us keep your stuff you can come back with us. We can give you a safe place to live.” The rest of his words turned into white noise after you heard his name.
“Alexandria?” You questioned, a sad smile coming to your face. “You’re not gathering stuff for your own people, are you?” you lowered your gun a little.
“You know these people?” the boy asked, getting angry. You nodded solemnly.
“Look, I’m not going back with you, but I’ll offer you a deal. Give me the first aid kit and I’ll give you this gun” you said, holding up the rifle to further your point.
“We need it,” Carl argued.
“So do I.” You rose your short sleeve to show the bandage. “Some asshole nearly shot out there.” Carl reached into the older man’s bag, Rick immediately telling him not to.
“She saved us,” he argued, pulling out the red plastic pack.
“One good turn deserves another,” he stood up and went to hand it to you before you raised the rifle again, shaking your head no. You motioned to the ground, where he put it down. You once again motioned to the ground and he kicked it over. You knelt down, placed down the rifle, and snatched up the kit before diving back into your room, slamming the door shut.
You rushed over to your bag, grabbing it and shoving the kit in. “This is empty!” you heard Rick yell as you dove out the window onto the fire escape and descending back to the streets.
Tag list
@softsebastian​
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tansypoisoning · 4 years ago
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Tansy’s Spooky Challenge
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Because the World is terrifying :D
To celebrate this milestone (1k followers :O) I’m starting a challenge which hopefully will give back to this community in terms of exposure of less known authors (or just authors that aren’t known by my followers) and in creating more stories. I’m so thankful for all the attention I’ve been given, and I hope to give you guys my attention as well.
I love writing challenges because they give authors motivation to write (sometimes even things out of their comfort zone), because they’re a great way for writer’s to promote themselves, and because it’s a great way for the person hosting it to find more stories and authors they could end up being big fans of :D I especially encourage people with less followers, or whose works I haven’t read to participate.
The main objective of this challenge is to write something that has an element of horror in it. It can range from a situation that seemed scary but is okay, to something that is a little eerie, to pure unadulterated terror. As for rules:
You DON’T have to be following me to participate.
You have to enter with a reader insert/OC fic. There doesn’t have to be any smut or shipping, and if there is, the relationship DOESN’T HAVE to be about dark!character or dark!reader.
I’ll read works for any fandom, but the ones I’m most familiar with are Marvel, Overwatch, Snowpiercer, Knives Out, Naruto, Avatar:The Legend of Aang
You can submit drabbles, one-shots, or an entry of a serialized story.
A single prompt CAN be used by more than a single person.
The fanfics can be of any length, but if they’re on the longer side, please try putting a ‘Read More’ in there somewhere to avoid making things difficult for people reading on phones.
Things that are not allowed in terms of content: underage sex, bestiality, graphic child abuse (allusions are ok) I don’t think anyone would submit an entry that I would have reservations reblogging, but if in doubt you can ask me for help. Give warnings for any sensitive topic you bring up.
Tag your fic with “TansySpookyChallenge2020”
Send me an ask or dm telling me you posted it, preferably a dm. Asks can get eaten by the inbox, and tagging doesn’t always work.
Deadline is November 24th. You can DM for extensions
PROMPTS BELOW
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Choose one item from each list and work them into a story. I allow and encourage trying to game the system with multiple interpretations of a term, less literal readings, or wordplay.
List 1
Happiness
Jealousy
Nostalgia
Desperation
Fury
Triumph
Sadness
Acceptance
Fervor
Disgust
Awe
Confusion
Hope
Craving
Foreboding
Denial
Loss
Ennui
Adoration
Sympathy
Pain
Betrayal
Commiseration
Anxiety
Rancor
Determination
List 2
Sink or swim
Chokecherry
Crossroads
“Let me see what you have.” “A knife!”
French vanilla
Something forgotten long ago
The shore
The eye of the storm
Bathtub
Corn hell
Down by the river
Baby’s breath
A little fire
An old saloon
Unearthed bones
On the move
Before dawn
Dead men walking
By candlelight
Frankenstein
Prima Donna
A hill about a mile outta town
First dance
Ritual
Underground
A small request
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These text prompts can be used however you want: whether you want to have them in your story in their entirety, use bits, write something around them, something inspired by them, or just something you think has a similar feel. Just let me know which you picked.
There is a Corvette parked in front of the building, just by the front door. You approach the vehicle as if compelled by an invisible force and look in through the closed window. There’s none inside, but you see, in the driver's seat, illuminated by the neon lights of the bar, a white cowboy hat with a golden band. This isn’t the first time you see this hat.
The hole is no more than eight feet long and three feet wide. You peer in deeper, but you can’t see the bottom. There’s a soft but grating sound coming from somewhere within, like sharp nails raking against a metal plate. You can’t see the bottom, but you think you can see movement inside.
You abandon the warmth of the laundromat for the biting cold of the outside world. To your right, the road extends for miles and miles into the night, as it does to your left. There’s no place for you to go, but you can’t go back inside.
The light of the neon sign proudly displaying “Rising Sun Motel” shines through your door. You had closed and locked it before taking your shower – you know you had, because you do it in every room you rent. You take a cursory glance of your surroundings. Nothing is out of place or missing. Must be a faulty lock. The night is windy and could have pushed the cheap door open. You go to lock it again, and when you turn around you see that the closet door is slightly ajar.
The land is flat as far as the eye can see and identical houses with identically manicured lawns sprout from it as far as the eye can see. You run up and then down the street (or is it down and then up?) but you can’t seem to find anything else. The people look so friendly when they smile and wave as they pass you by, but you don’t ask them for directions. You look at your phone. You have signal, but all you can get your internet to show you are advertising for washing machines and sites with recipes for awful things preserved in aspic. The date and hour on your home screen keep changing. You’re positive you’ve been in this place for hours, but the sun won’t set.
“B-but… I don’t understand...” “We have checked the security footage three times and found nothing. There are also no signs of forced entries. No fingerprints.” “-My phone! I took pictures, I know I took-!” “We found nothing on your phone, in the SD card, or in the Cloud. There’s nothing.” “That’s impossible!” “We searched as much as we could. I’m sorry, but… are you sure-” “I know what I saw! I know it! Look again!” You aren’t imagining things. It couldn't have been your mind. It couldn't, it couldn’t, it couldn't
What kind of convenience store has taxidermy heads for decoration? You ask yourself as you roam the aisles of the near empty shop. You peek from behind a row of shelves to one side and spot the clerk. He’s old and severe looking, and although his pupils are pointed in your direction, you get the distinct feeling he’s looking right through you. You move your head to the other side of the shelves and spot another one of those fucking deer heads. This one’s large, wet eyes are turned to a fixture in the ceiling, but you would swear it’s watching you.
Rain pelts you as you stand at the dock, waiting. You hope your boat will arrive soon. You look over your shoulder into the mist and see nothing that should give you pause, but your leg still won’t stop shaking. You touch your arm by reflex and wince when you brush your cut. You think your makeshift tourniquet is working, but it looks fragile, like it could get dismantled at any second. In this weather, you’re sure is just a matter of time. You look over your shoulder again. Still nothing, but you fear it won’t last. You hope your boat will arrive soon.
The living room is dark, but you don’t turn on the lights. You are still too close. You move to the kitchen, and there you feel safe enough to reach for the switch. The illuminated room, much larger than it needed to be, is a ghastly land of contrasts. The many counters and their many marble tops are covered in trash. The tile floors, formerly clean enough to eat out of, are now muddied, not a single spot spared. The eyes of the two stoves are covered by pans and pots boiling foul mixtures. Through the window you can see the sprawling lawn and walls of hedges. They will hide you, but for how long? There is something waiting for you in the hallway, something terrible. You have to address it before sunrise, but for now you’ll wait here. The kitchen isn’t half as bad as the rest of the house.
‘The Bystander Effect’ is the term used to describe the phenomenon in which people don’t intervene in emergency situations when in a group, and, the larger the group, the less likely they are to intervene. You know this to be true, even without doing any research, as you hobble your way through the maze of alleyways. Your cries for help had gone unanswered, bouncing off the concrete walls into a multitude of uncaring ears. It’s just how it is in the big city – every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost. So much for safety in numbers. The truth is, in this city, surrounded by all these people, you’re more alone than you’d ever been.
You take the first step with care, mindful of all the ice. The second is a little clumsier. On the third you almost slip. You skip the fourth and fall on the fifth, rolling down the stairs and landing face first in the snow. You scramble to get back to your feet and run to your car. You have to get home. You lock yourself in and don’t bother with the safety belt. You shove the key in the ignition and turn and turn but nothing happens. Did you leave it in the cold too long, or- There’s no time to think about it. You step out of the car and start running, into the freezing night. You have to get home, you have to get home now.
Cleanup time is always a hassle. You wish you didn’t have to do it, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave the mess all to your partner. You two near the open trunk of the car and load the heavy cargo into it. Your companion seems the most affected by the weight, and you offer an apologetic smile. Fair is fair though; it was your turn to carry the feet end.
Skinny dipping had seemed like a good idea when your friend suggested it earlier, under the sweltering sun. Now, standing in front of the pool in your bathing suit, all by your lonesome, you start to regret having agreed to her scheme. Wasn’t she supposed to have arrived forty minutes ago? She said she’d bring people too, because skinny dipping alone isn’t fun. Well, now you are all alone in the cold, and you suspect that is even less fun. Just as you make up your mind to leave, you see a car through the chain link fence. It pulls up just before the gate and the engine turns off. That must be them.
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alyssawritesssfics · 4 years ago
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Hounded [8] 8. Day Trip
Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death (canon), series spoilers
Summary: Athena, in an attempt to avoid her father, searches for a lost bunker with Bellamy. In a search for supplies, they end up finding a newfound appreciation for each other.
Author’s Note: Hii, here is chapter/episode eight! I had SO much fun writing this one. It’s a big one, most of it Athena & Bellamy. I planned to have Athena talk with Kane, but it just didn’t fit into this chapter. I hope you enjoy it! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!
Tag List: @topazy​ @no-damsel​ (DM or send an ask to be added)
previous chapter // series masterlist
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The rest of the day was spent recovering from the storm. Finn was healing slowly but surely, and the Grounder was still tied up on the top level of the dropship. I'd hardly seen Octavia, and I didn't blame her for avoiding me; part of me wished I could avoid me too.
I sat in my tent the following day, waiting for Clarke's meeting with the council to finish. We would soon know how long until the Ark would reach the ground, more importantly, how long we had left before we had proper defences against the Grounders. Until we had guns, the Grounders would always have the upper hand.
"Athena, are you in there?"
I stood from my cot, pulling open the flap of the tent. "How did the meeting go?"
Clarke shrugged. "There's an emergency depot not too far from here. Your father mentioned it would have supplies and could provide shelter for us while we wait on them to get down here."
I could feel my body tense up at the mention of my father. "That'll be good. I have a feeling we'll need to move there sooner rather than later." Stepping out of the tent, I allowed Clarke to lead me towards the dropship.
"The council set up meeting times for the rest of the day," Clarke started. "For us all to talk to our families."
I took a deep breath. "That'll be good."
Clarke stepped in front of me. "Are you okay?"
"Sorry," I spoke, rubbing my eyes. "I've just gotten so used to life down here, you know? Without the Ark. Not having to worry about my father."
Clarke nodded. "I know what you mean."
"Right," I couldn't help but frown. "Did you talk to your mom at all last night?"
"You mean, about her turning my father in?" Clarke asked, each word laced with venom. Then, she let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I told her I knew."
"What did she have to say for herself?"
Clarke shook her head. "I didn't really give her a chance to explain. I mean, what is there to explain? Nothing she could possibly say would make any of this better. She's the reason my father is dead. I don't think I can forgive her for that. Does that make me a terrible person?"
I shook my head. "It makes you human."
"Being human sucks."
I looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath. "Forgiveness has never really been my strong suit, so I'm probably the worst person to give you advice anyway."
Clarke frowned. "Well, I can help you avoid having to talk to your parents."
My eyes met Clarke's, a small smile forming across my face. "What do you have in mind?"
Clarke turned around, continuing towards the dropship. "The depot. I figure you can lead the search for it. Scope it out, see if there's anything of use there. See if it can actually be used as shelter."
"I can do that," I responded. "When do we leave?"
We entered the dropship, spotting Bellamy and Octavia standing next to the ladder.
"Whatever twisted connection you think you have with that animal, forget it. You don't get to see him. End of discussion." Bellamy turned to leave.
"Why do you even care?" Octavia pressed. "If I ruined your life, you should want me to go up there. Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll kill me. Problem solved."
Bellamy looked back at her. "You know I didn't mean that."
"Bellamy," Clarke spoke up.
"The answer is still no, Clarke." He responded, now facing us. "I'm not talking to Jaha."
Clarke shook her head. "That's not why I'm here."
"What, then?"
"The Ark found some records that show an old supply depot not too far from here."
My eyes darted to Clarke. "Clarke, what are you-"
"What kind of supplies?" Bellamy asked.
"The kind that might give us a chance to live through the winter." Clarke responded. "I have to stay behind to organize visits, but I'm sending Athena and she could use some back up."
I folded my arms across my chest. "You're kidding, right?"
"Why are you asking me?"
Clarke smirked. "You want to avoid Jaha right?"
Bellamy scoffed. "Alright, I'll go."
"I thought so." Clarke said, handing me a map. "I've marked the coordinates on this map. Be careful out there, alright?"
Before I could object, Clarke had left the dropship. I turned back to Bellamy, my arms still placed tightly across my chest. "Meet me at the gate in ten minutes, or I will leave without you."
Bellamy smirked. "Someone is bossy today."
"I mean it, Bellamy," I spoke, turning to leave.
I stopped at my tent to grab my pack before heading to the gate. By the time I made it there, Bellamy was stuffing packages upon packages of nuts into his pack.
"That's a lot of rations," I mumbled. "You do realize this is a day trip, right?"
"A lot can happen in a day."
I rolled my eyes, signalling for Jasper to open the gate.
...
We had been walking for over an hour, only ever discussing the directions Clarke had given us. While the silence had left little room for a Grounder to sneak up on us, I was growing tired and needed a distraction.
"You know, the first dropship will be down soon," I spoke, earning a side-glance. "Pretty sure you can't avoid Jaha forever."
Bellamy scoffed. "I can try."
"Maybe he'll be lenient?" I suggested, eating some nuts from my packet. "You know, he's forgiving the rest of our crimes. Why not yours too?"
"I shot the man, Athena. He's not just going to forgive and forget."
"At least you didn't kill him."
"Has terrible aim ever in the history of law been a good defence?" He sighed. "Your honour, I concede that I shot the man, but he didn't die! No harm, no foul?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not saying you'll get off with no punishment. I'm just saying, maybe he'll opt for some time in lock-up? We don't really have to worry about wasting oxygen anymore."
Bellamy stopped, staring at the ground. "What if they find out about the radio? I mean, someone is bound to tell them. I shot the Chancellor, and then I destroyed the radio, causing three hundred innocent people to die up there."
"So it does bother you?"
He turned around, looking me dead in the eye. "Of course it bothers me, Athena." Bellamy turned back around, continuing through the forest.
"Why do you always act like you don't give a shit, then?" I asked. "I mean, why do you keep pretending like nothing matters to you?"
"I don't pretend like nothing else matters."
"You're right," I responded. "You couldn't pretend that Octavia doesn't matter to you no matter how hard you try."
Bellamy shook his head. "You have no idea."
"Octavia used to talk about you all the time," I started, smiling to myself. "Her big brother. Her greatest protector. You gave up everything to protect her."
"What's your point?"
"I'm just trying to understand how the person I heard about for eight months is the same guy I'm talking to right now." I shrugged.
Bellamy scoffed. "No matter what Octavia has told you, you'll never understand what we went through up there. What I went through. Your father would take over if anything happened to Jaha, right? That would make you Wells 2.0."
"Bellamy-"
"You will never understand, Athena. You will never know what I had to go through to keep her safe. What I had to see my mother go through." He paused, steadying his breathing. "Octavia spent sixteen years under the floor. Sixteen years confined to our tiny dorm. She was a prisoner from the day she was born and all I wanted was to protect her, or at the very least, be with her one last time before radiation killed her." He stopped, looking around. "But, it didn't."
"So you destroyed the radio because you were afraid she'd be alone? After they came down here and executed you."
"That was part of it." Bellamy nodded. "Is it so wrong just to not want to die?"
I shook my head, feeling a pang in my heart. "I don't think so."
"If I had known what would happen," Bellamy closed his eyes. "I wouldn't have destroyed the radio. I swear."
I stared at Bellamy for a moment, taking in a side of him I hadn't seen since the night in the cave. He was vulnerable. Maybe I was an idiot, but I couldn't help but believe him. Feel sorry for him even.
Clearing my throat, I pushed past him, looking down the hill we'd now approached. "The depot is supposed to be around here somewhere. There's got to be a door underneath all of this brush."
"Let's just split up, cover more ground." He sighed, beginning down the hill. "Stay within shouting distance, alright?"
I nodded, slowly making my way down the hill behind him. Broken branches from the trees surrounding us were scattered along the grass messily, having been tossed around by the storm most likely.
It didn't take long for me to find a metal door hidden under a large branch. "Bellamy, I think I found it!"
Bellamy rushed over, helping me move the branch. He tugged on the handle, to no avail. "It's rusted shut. Here, watch your foot."
I stepped back as Bellamy pulled out his hatched, bashing it against the edges of the door a few times. Putting the hatchet back on his belt, he signalled for my help. After a few tugs, the door swung open.
"Woah," I gasped, peering down the stairs. "Here, take this," I said, handing him one of two flashlights before descending into the bunker.
Bellamy followed behind. "Do you really think this place hasn't been touched since before the war?"
"A girl can dream."
We continued through the bunker, coming across another set of stairs. My light shone over a skeleton, leaning up against the bannister.
"A hell of a place to die," Bellamy commented.
"So much for living down here. This place is disgusting." I said, looking around the spider-web infested room. "Damn it."
Bellamy sighed. "Anything left down here is ruined."
I soon noticed a shelf, shining my light against it. "Hey, I found some blankets!"
"Excited about a couple of blankets?" Bellamy grumbled.
"It's something, at least," I responded, rolling my eyes. "We might not be able to live down here, but at least these will help us stay warm. Even if it is just a little bit."
"How about a canteen? Or a medkit? Or a decent freaking tent?" Bellamy snapped, kicking a barrel in front of him.
I spun around, noticing the contents of the barrel spilling out onto the floor. "Holy shit," I mumbled, rushing over.
Bellamy smiled, kneeling down next to it. "I'll be damned."
Two guns laid on the floor, surrounded by grease.
"Do you think they'll still work?" I asked, picking one up.
"I guess we'll find out," Bellamy responded, looking around. "Help me with the rest of the barrels. Maybe there's more guns, some ammo."
We headed around the room, kicking over every barrel insight. In total, we came up with fifty guns, but only enough ammo to fill half of them twice.
"This changes everything. No more running from spears." Bellamy spoke, a glimmer in his eyes. "Ready to be a badass, Athena?"
I bit my lip. "I know we need these, but I don't know how I feel about bringing them back to camp. We do have murderers among us."
"Who could've killed us by now with anything else lying around camp." Bellamy pointed out. "I know what you mean, but trust me, those killers are focused on the Grounders. Not any of us."
"You're right," I confessed.
"We're lucky these guns were packed in grease. The fact that they survived means we're not sitting ducks anymore." Bellamy grabbed a sheet from the shelf, drawing a target on it with some dust. "You need to learn how to do this."
I nodded, lifting the gun and pointing it at the sheet. "So I just hold it on my shoulder?"
"Just a little higher," He spoke, standing behind me. He placed one hand on the gun and another on my upper arm. I could feel his warm breath on my ear, jagged with each inhale and exhale. "Uh, yeah, that's good." He spoke, moving away. "Here, watch and learn."
I stepped back, watching him pick up another gun. He aimed it at the target, pulling the trigger. The gun clicked, nothing coming out. "Still watching," I spoke, smirking.
He shook his head, turning to me with a smile. "My bullets are duds. Try yours."
I stepped back into place, aiming the gun and pulling the trigger. A bullet flew out of the gun, shooting through the sheet. "That was amazing!" I spoke, smiling ear to ear. I turned to look at Bellamy, my face now pale. "Am I horrible for feeling that?"
He shook his head again, still smiling. "Try again."
"We shouldn't waste the ammunition."
"You need to practice."
"We need to talk about how we're going to keep these guns around camp," I started. "Where we're going to keep them, who has access to them." Bellamy rolled his eyes, opening a pack of nuts and eating a small handful. "You left Miller in charge of the Grounder," I continued. "You must trust him."
Bellamy nodded. "You should keep him close. The others listen to him."
I raised an eyebrow. "Bellamy, what's going on? You've been acting weird all day and you took a shit-ton of rations-" I stopped, my eyes widening. "You're planning on running. That's why you agreed to come today. You were gonna load up on supplies and just take off?"
"I don't have a choice, Athena." Bellamy sighed. "The Ark will be down here soon. You said maybe they'd just lock me up, but there's no way I'm giving Jaha the satisfaction."
"What about Octavia?" I asked. "You can't just leave her."
"Octavia hates me. She'll be fine."
"Octavia is upset, but she'll get over it. She loves you." I spoke, stepping closer. "Please, Bellamy. Don't do this."
Bellamy stared at me for a moment, his eyes softening. "Come with me."
I stared back, my heart stopping for a moment. "What?"
"Screw everyone else," Bellamy responded. "Let's just go."
"Bellamy-"
"Clarke knows where the depot is." Bellamy started. "We can take a gun, some ammo, and go somewhere else."
"We can't just abandon our people. Your people, as you've said over and over again since we got down here." I spoke, stepping back.
Bellamy rolled his eyes. "Keep practicing. I need some air."
"Bellamy, wait!"
"Don't worry, Athena." He spoke, walking away. "I won't leave just yet."
As his silhouette disappeared, I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Come with me. He asked me to come with him, and for just a moment, I thought about it. Could we find a place where the Grounders would never find us? Would the others manage on their own until the Ark came down? Leaving them to fight without my help just didn't sit right with me.
I placed my gun on the shelf, grabbing a few more nuts. Then suddenly, I heard a familiar voice.
"You've always been just like your father, you know?"
I turned around, the room having morphed into my bedroom on the Ark. Standing in front of me was my mother, as clear as ever.
"Mom?" I gasped, rushing over and throwing my arms around her.
"My sweet baby," She spoke, giving me one of her tightest hugs. "I've missed you so much."
I opened my mouth to respond, reality slowly sinking in. Looking up at my mother, I frowned. "You're not really here, are you?"
"I'm afraid not," She confessed.
"How is this possible?" I asked, stepping away.
My mother turned away, looking around the room before sitting down on my bed. "I'm thinking 'why' is more important."
I frowned. "Because I need you."
"What for, Sweetheart?" She asked, patting the bed next to her.
I sat down next to her, feeling her arm wrap around my back. "I don't know what to do. I'm so scared, Mom. All of the time. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to keep us all safe. I don't think I can."
"Are you trying your best?" I nodded. "That's all you can do." She said, pausing for a moment. "But, you can't run away, baby. You're better than that."
I pulled myself away, standing in front of her. "You don't understand what it's like down here."
"Of course I do," She said, smiling. "I'm you, remember?"
"Right," I frowned. "So I guess you're my conscience?"
"I'm whatever you need me to be."
I let out a huff, shaking my head. "That's not really helpful, you know?"
"Would you prefer to speak with your father instead?" She asked, letting out a small chuckle.
"That's not funny," I hissed. "And for the record, I'm nothing like him."
"Are you sure about that?" I raised my eyebrow at her. "Here you are, worrying about the safety of your people. Having to make the hard decisions to keep them alive, a burden he's carried since before you were born."
"Dad has never had trouble making the hard decisions."
"Athena-"
"If you're going to try and defend him, just save it. He let them lock me up." I spoke, tears forming in my eyes. "Aside from our family, Jaha and Jesse's family, nobody else knew what I did. He's the second in command! He could've talked to Jaha, asked him to let it go, but he didn't. He's never stood up for me, not once in my entire life. He knew they were sending us down here, and he did nothing to stop it. He sent me, his own daughter, down here to die."
My mother frowned, her eyes shifting to the floor. "You know none of that was within his power. He loves you, more than anything."
"Now I know for sure you're not real," I scoffed. "You'd never lie to me."
"Too bad I couldn't say the same for you."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. "I never told you I was sorry. For what I did. Stealing your keycard. I know you could've lost everything."
"But you did it anyway, all to save someone you loved. Look where that got you; locked up and sent down here to die."
"You're saying Dad did the right thing?" I rolled my eyes.
"Not everything is black and white, Athena." She started. "Sometimes you have no other choice. Being a leader is doing what's right for your people, not what's right for you or one other person. Your father knows that, and so do you."
I shook my head, a tear falling down my cheek. "I'm not ready to forgive him."
"Whatever," My mother spoke, her voice suddenly changing. "Crazy bitch."
"Mom?" I asked, feeling a hard smack against the back of my head.
Then, everything went black.
...
I woke up on the cold ground of the bunker, my head throbbing. Sitting up, I looked around the room, noticing Bellamy's pack still sat on the ground where he left it. Whoever knocked me out, it definitely hadn't been him.
"What am I supposed to do?" It was Bellamy's voice.
I pulled myself off the ground, grabbing my gun and running out of the bunker.
"Do you think you deserve to be free of your pain? Do you deserve that gift?" I recognized the voice as Dax, one of the murderers of our camp. "Because you're going to get it."
I hid behind a tree, poking my head out, struggling to see in the darkness. Dax stood over Bellamy, holding one of the guns we'd found. Bellamy lifted his hand, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Nothing personal," Dax said. Then, he pulled the trigger, nothing coming out.
"Put the gun down, Dax," I spoke, stepping out from behind the tree with my gun aimed at him.
Dax spun around, shaking his head. "You should've stayed in the bunker, Athena. I tried not to kill you, but here you are, and Shumway said no witnesses."
"What is he talking about?" I asked, my eyes shifting to Bellamy for a moment.
"Shumway set it up. He gave me the gun to shoot the Chancellor."
I froze for a moment, Dax taking the chance to move closer. "Walk away now, and I won't kill you. This is your last chance."
"I can't do that, Dax."
He nodded. "Your choice."
I pulled the trigger before he could, this time my gun being the one to jam. He was quick to pull the trigger next, and I dove behind the tree just in time.
"No!" Bellamy yelled, tackling Dax.
I could hear them struggling behind me as I remained behind the tree, reloading my gun. Stepping out, I fired again and again and again, nothing coming out. I watched Dax climb on top of Bellamy once more, pushing the gun hard against Bellamy's throat. Giving up, I ran towards.
"Get the hell off of him!" I yelled, swinging the gun at him.
Dax dodged me, hitting me in the stomach with his gun, causing me to fall to the floor. I clutched my stomach, gasping for air, Dax's eyes still on me. With no time to waste, Bellamy grabbed a discarded bullet, stabbing Dax in the neck with it.
Blood spilled from Dax's mouth as he fell backwards, slowly bleeding out. Finally, he stopped moving.
I crawled over to the tree, leaning myself up against it as Bellamy rushed over, still struggling to catch his breath. He placed his hand on my knee, leaning himself against the tree as well.
"It's okay," I spoke, slowly catching my breath. "You're okay."
"No, I'm not." He choked out, tears forming in his eyes. "My mother... If she knew what I've done, who I am. She raised me to be better. To be good. And all I do is hurt people."
"Bellamy-"
"I'm a monster."
"Hey, you saved my life today. You've saved my life twice now." I spoke, grabbing his hand. "You may be a total ass half the time but... I need you. We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you."
He shook his head. "They have you. And Clarke."
"We couldn't have kept everyone alive without you by our sides," I confessed. "You want forgiveness, fine, I'll give that to you. You're forgiven, okay? But you can't run, Bellamy. You have to face it."
"Like you faced your father?" He asked, catching me off guard. "Come on, Athena. I know you only came here today to avoid talking to him."
I sighed. "You're right. I don't want to face my father. I don't want to face any of it. I would love to run away and start a life far away from everyone else, far away from all the death and destruction, but we don't have a choice."
"Jaha will kill me when he comes down."
"I won't let that happen," I spoke. "We'll figure something out."
Bellamy nodded. "Can we figure it out later?"
I nodded, leaning my head back against the tree and letting go of his hand. "Whenever you're ready."
...
We returned to camp later that night, pushing our way through a crowd surrounding the dropship. Miller had just informed the camp that the Grounder had gotten free, nowhere to be found.
"What if he brings other grounders back?" Jasper asked.
"He'll kill us all!" Another delinquent spoke.
"Or worse."
"Let the grounders come," Bellamy spoke, us both reaching the front of the crowd. "We've been afraid of them for far too long, and why? Because of their knives and spears. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being afraid."
Bellamy and I both dropped the sacks we'd made of sheets, them falling open to reveal guns. Clarke eyed them in amazement as everyone cheered around us.
"What about the bunker?" She asked.
I shook my head. "We can't live down there, but we did find blankets."
Clarke nodded, raising her voice. "These are weapons, not toys, alright? We have to be prepared to give them up to the guard when they get down here."
"But for now, they'll keep us safe," I added, earning a small smile.
"There are plenty more back at the depot that we couldn't carry," Bellamy spoke. "Tomorrow we start training, and if the grounders come, we're going to be ready to fight."
Everyone dispersed, Monty and Jasper carrying the guns to the dropship for storage overnight. Clarke placed her hand on my arm, grabbing my attention.
"I got you a meeting with Jaha," Clarke said. "He's waiting."
I smiled. "Thank you."
"What do you need to talk to him about anyway?"
"It's not for me," I responded, my eyes landing on Bellamy. "He was going to leave, you know?"
Clarke's eyes widened, her face turning red. "Are you kidding me?"
I shook my head. "I convinced him to talk to Jaha. Promised I'd do it with him. He's just scared, Clarke."
Her face softened and she nodded. "I get it."
I watched as Bellamy marched over, his eyes shifting nervously around camp. "Are we doing this?"
"Jaha is waiting. Are you ready?"
Bellamy huffed. "No, but let's get this over with."
The two of us headed to the tent, Bellamy gesturing for me to enter first. I pushed the flap aside, quickly spotting Jaha's face on the monitor in front of us. Bellamy took a deep breath, sitting down first and putting on his headset. I did the same.
"Mr. Blake," Jaha spoke. "I've been wanting to talk to you for some time now."
"Before you do, there's something I'd like to say." I started, glancing at Bellamy before looking back at Jaha. "When you sent us down here, you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy. He's one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us."
Jaha scoffed. "Athena, I appreciate your point of view, but it's not that simple."
"It is if you want to know who on the Ark wants you dead."
I watched as Jaha contemplated Bellamy's offer. Finally, he responded. "Bellamy Blake, you are pardoned for your crimes."
Bellamy let out a sigh of relief, and I couldn't help but do the same. I placed my hand on his, squeezing it slightly and earning a small smile from him.
"Thank you," Bellamy spoke.
Jaha nodded. "Now, tell me who gave you the gun."
~
next chapter
16 notes · View notes
hecohansen31 · 5 years ago
Note
For the soulmate foursome, it's clear that they all love their little girl now, but... Michael is still very cold ! It's his nature, but when she sees him so sweet with Jimmy, so cuddly with Duncan, their girl has some doubts. She needs to feel that he trusts her, by showing his true face : a lil pup full of fears and love.
(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!
How are you? 
I hope you’ll like this new piece for the foursome, I honestly love these babes and Michael in this dynamic is just UWU...
As always, if you don’t like this just shoot me an ask or a DM and I’ll rewrite it!
Have a nice reading!
WARNINGS: Mention of Work Harassment, Rejection, Slight Violence, Nightmares, Tiredness and Jim’s Idiotic Humor.
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Michael was literally the embodiment of ‘are you the little spoon or the big spoon? I am a knife’ meme.
Which was something that Jim had said jokingly to you, as you had voiced your doubts towards Michael’s love for you.
You didn’t deny that he was attracted to you, at least physically, but whenever you would do something even remotely romantic, he would retreat in himself, almost frozen on the spot, and you couldn’t help but feel like he was more a puppet than actually Michael.
And he only had this behavior with you, because you saw the way he would purr as Duncan dove, almost distractedly, an hand in his hair when they were on the couch and he was checking emails, Michael immediately relaxing under him.
Or when Jimmy would make some dumb joke and Michael would laugh like he had just proclaimed an universal truth, gently holding his lover’s hand as he brought it to his lips, or when he would comfort Jimmy during his nightmares, although he had learned how to let you in.
Every sexual action never seemed to be spurred on by Michael, although by the end of the day his hard-on would wake you up on the mornings you fell asleep in his arms, but he never seemed to initiate anything with you, whereas he had no qualm dragging Jimmy in his bedroom or kissing Duncan when you both visited him in his office.
You didn’t know whether he was simply too stiff to warm up to you or you should have just given him his time.
That was what had suggested Duncan the diplomat, whereas Jimmy had gone for a more direct approach, suggesting you just tied the man to the bed and showed him a thing or two about ‘your beautiful body’.
You definitely didn’t know why you still bothered to ask Jimmy for advice.
But then Destiny decided to give you a hand, gently pushing you and Michael together.
Duncan would be gone for an entire week a business trip and that same week Jimmy had wanted to visit Medina since she would be soon leaving for a world tour of surf and he wanted to spend a bit of time together, even more when he knew the tension that staying with you and Michael would arise.
‘Everything is going to be alright’ he promised ‘… please just fuck out the tension, don’t throw knives, Duncan would be pissed if he had to redecorate’.
‘Thank you for thinking about my life, babe’ you had replied, as you had closed the door in his face ‘… suck your own dick, since you are supportive the kitchen, again’.
But strangely the first days without Jimmy and Duncan went pretty well, mostly because you and Michael stayed on your own with your own routines.
You would be leaving for work, come back by night, shower after Michael did (which meant that the water was never ‘boiling hot’ but you couldn’t hold Michael’s accountable for that… mostly with that glorious hair) and then you would dine together.
Michael would try awkwardly to ask how your day had gone and you would reply a bit less awkwardly.
And then you would go to sleep.
Each one in a separate room.
Then the third day the miracle happened.
You had just come back from work: it had been a tiring day, working with children wasn’t always easy.
That day you had also slept terribly and when you had come back home you still had papers to grade and projects to go through, which would make your night even longer no matter your need for bed and food, and a long warm shower…
You had come in the kitchen, barging in lightly more aggressively than you usually did, and you hadn’t certainly expected Michael to be there, eating softly some sweet and you couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding on his peace, immediately grabbing all the bags you had dropped and mumbling a soft ‘sorry’, as you moved away.
“No no, stay” he replied, something in his voice making you turn around, and as you came to face with him, he looked curious… almost worried “... is everything alright?”.
“Just an hard day at school” you muttered, releasing a soft breath “I do think that if it isn’t a problem I’d like to shower first, so that I can then dedicate my soul and body to going through the children’s works”.
“… sorry to hear that” and he seemed to mean it, before he pushed out a small chair next to him “… and I don’t mind it absolutely, but first do you want some of this tiramisu? It honestly tastes amazing”.
And you didn’t doubt it since it came from one of the most known bakeries of the city.
But what truly startled you was the fact Michael had just offered you one of his precious sweets and you looked at him confused as if he had grown another head, but refused politely, sure that it was a trick.
Michael would never share his sweets with anyone: he always preferred to get more than to share.
So why was he sharing it with you?
“I won’t kill you if you want a piece, I swear” he insisted “… I know that I can be… possessive on my sweets, but I just… I just think that you might need this more than I do”.
In fact, you low key felt like you might need a bit of sugar to get yourself to be better.
“… just a piece” you promised him, and he just looked at you in the eyes, honesty shining in his beautiful turquoise gems.
“Honestly you can take it all, I wouldn’t mind it”.
---
If that hadn’t been enough to scare you about Michael’s behavior, making you wonder what had made him change, something interesting had happened on Friday.
Usually Duncan would reserve that day as a day off from work with you, if his week had been calm enough: you would go out for a coffee, something rather calm and trivial, but you cherished those memories, because they made you feel comfortable and fall more in love with your beloved idiot.
You would do a similar thing with Jim, going to see him training every Wednesday and then spending time sharing a milkshake together, at your favorite diner.
You hadn’t any of this kind of things with Michael, but you knew, because you had spied the conversation, that Duncan had made him promise to cover his ‘shift’ with you on Friday, hence Michael had very ‘not genuinely’ asked you out for a coffee after you finished work.
And you were now waiting for the beautiful man to arrive, having arrived early and grading some of the papers you hadn’t been able to finish the previous days, and you had been a bit warmed up by the beautiful atmosphere of the secluded coffee.
It was a bit more expensive that the ones around the city, but you just loved it too much to notice the money you spent on it (and Duncan usually paid so…).
And as you were waiting an hand touched your shoulder, startling you but you quickly recovered thinking it was Michael and his feline-like grace but you were disappointed a you saw Mr. Tinsel, one of the fathers of your students.
Who had flirted with you at any teacher-parents meeting, to the point where you were so uncomfortable that you started to always avoid him.
But this time there was no running away.
“Mrs. (L/N)!” he called out to you with more energy than he should have, not releasing your shoulder from his grip as you raised your eyes to rank them slowly onto his greasy attire, something between a mix of ‘my wife left me because I wouldn’t shower’ and ‘this is fashionable trash’ “… so nice to see you!”.
“Absolutely” you hoped your wondering smile would make sure that he understood you weren’t feeling the same way “How is Priscilla?”.
That child was literally the original ‘problematic one’ and you could totally understand with a father like that, spoiled and brattish, but also definitely uncared and having a lack of affection in her life.
“… an angel truly” you doubted it but smiled again more out of convenience than anything else “… and very much in love, like me, with her teacher”.
‘Good Lord if you ever loved me, please please just throw a lighting on his way’ you muttered in your mind, with a wary smile to the man who sat in front of you, a distinct show that he wanted to stay, completely taking advantage of your alone moment.
“That’s actually for my partner…” you tried to say “… I am waiting for him”.
“Oh, but I don’t see him around” he gave you a charming smile, and you simply sent a worried one, checking the door, as you tried to go back to grading your papers giving Mr. Tinsel no attention, but soon your interest was caught by a small protesting ‘humph’ Mr. Tinsel released “… hey I got this lace before!”.
And as you raised your face, Michael was looming onto Mr. Tinsel, his eyes definitely burning an hole through the poor man who still stood his ground but didn’t have much choice as Michael got the chair out of his ass, making him fall onto it, with a fluid motion as he readjusted the chair closer to you, sitting on it and sending you a quick glance as you looked at the entire scene shocked.
“… hey sweetheart, sorry for being late”.
---
All those mixed signals were driving you crazy and the drop that filled and made your vase overflow was when Michael insisted on you sleeping together on Saturday night, after a movie marathon, insisting on needing a bit of help to sleep these days.
‘You wouldn’t mind, would you?’ he had asked you as you stared at him as if he had just revealed you, he was ‘the king of the world’.
‘No no’ you had almost chocked on your own saliva as you had pushed yourself to reply quickly.
And now you were in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling on your back, your hand on your stomach, aching because of the anxiety of such an intimate act that Michael regarded with the least attention, having simply slipped in bed in pajama pants and nothing more, as he curled onto one side, in a fetal position, pushing himself the furthest away from you.
In the end sleep overcame you wonderings and thoughts, but you were quickly brought back to reality as you felt something turning around in your bed, startling you and paralyzing you onto the mattress as you calmed your breath and analyzed the situation.
You immediately came to the quick conclusion that it was Michael turning around the bed, since you were in his bedroom and pushed in an upright position so that you could see what was going on.
And found Michael twisting his body in what looked like a painful memory, transformed in an awful nightmare and as you gently pushed yourself to softly brush an hand against his shoulder, aware that you had to wake him up, he snapped.
He quickly went into survival mood, gripping onto your hand in a way that pained you, pushing onto your wrist as he quickly pulled you under him, effectively stopping any movements and protests, and as his hand wrapped around your throat you found yoyrself fearing for your life.
You had never witnessed a nightmare of his.
You hadn’t even known he had such and almost cursed yourself for having used such a bold attempt till Michael’s eyes snapped open, taking in the situation and you muttered through your slow breaths.
‘It’s me, (Y/N), Michael’ and as his eyes slowly became bright eyes in the darkness of the room ‘… you are hurting me’.
And as burned, he immediately retreated his hand from your hands, definitely taking in the harshness of his action, before recognition of who you were overtook him and you immediately turned away from him, to regain your breath as you wondered what you had to do.
You were still scared by his aggressive answer but you could hear him being pained beside you, still as stone and cold as ice as you slowly moved to take a look at him, on his back and watching anything that wasn’t you, although your movement quickly caught his attention.
“Michael, are you…?” ‘ok’, ‘crazy, ‘safe’… you didn’t know what to say but Michael simply nodded your head more out of habit, than actually feeling ‘better’, and your heart chocked a bit, tightening in your chest, as you realized he had nightmare, he just hid them “… you had a nightmare, you aren’t ok, I can feel how shaken you are and I…”.
“It’s none of your business” the harshness of your words hurt you much more than is chokehold, but you couldn’t simply give up.
“It is” your voice had his same harshness as you propped onto your elbow turning onto your stomach as you softened your gaze “… you are my lover like Duncan and Jimmy and I always help them through nightmares”.
“But I am not like either of them!” he protested, not even looking at you in the eyes, and you gave him all the time in the world “… I am not cheery as Jimmy and romantic as Duncan”.
“Then you are you: elegant and algid Michael with a love for sweets and for luxurious things, I don’t really need anything else, truly, I mean… I have cheery Jim and romantic Duncan and a very very sweet Michael, I just need you the way you are”.
This seemed to breech something in Michael as he sent you a quick look to you as if to make sure that you weren’t lying.
“… I almost hurt you”.
“Also Jimmy and Duncan did, the first times they had a nightmare, it’s not you, it’s the nightmares” you explained softly, daring to let an hand out to him to settle it between you “… once I know how to deal with yours nightmares, I won’t be hurt anymore”.
Although Michael still needed more convincing, he grabbed softly your hand.
“… we are in this together” you promised him, gripping a bit tighter his hand to let him know that you were right there with him.
“I like being held when I have nightmares, not too tightly” he explained, not daring to look at you, already halfway nestling through your arms.
“… then I do think that I can do that for you”.
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karasumajo · 4 years ago
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I read through the old messages with my last favorite person.
I never realized how easily I would bend to his word and needs 😅 or just how much affection and care I'd give to him. At the time I guess I wouldn't have, I use to react purely on emotions and feelings without a thought.
I guess if makes sense that my ex didn't like him, but I would still talk to him and make time and do my best to always be there for him. Now, looking back,I guess I could see why my ex boyfriend felt the threat from him. But it was purely just friendship.
I guess I liked having someone to care about and who depended on my being there for them.
There was a conversation I saw between him and I
Him: "Are you awake?"
Me: "of course, what's up?"
Him: "I just really need someone. I'm feeling anxious, sad, I can't sleep."
Me: " :( I'm always here ____♡ it's okay. Do you want to talk on the phone? Want to come over? Want foods?"
Him: "idk, I guess not being alone would be nice, ill head over."
Me: "okay, I'll make something to eat! We can sit outside and eat! See you soon ♡"
It was like 2am. I remember that day was a terrible day at work but I wanted to be there for him lol. But it was always that way when he didn't want to be alone, and I always made myself available to him.
We even had a conversation once where he proposed that if when we are older and single, perhaps we can just have some kind of FWB relationship 😅 and I just...agreed. like I didn't even factor in how that might effect me.
Anyway, what hurt me to read was when I realized I was begging him to talk to me. I mean I don't blame him, his relationship would obviously be more important than me and also I guess having me as a friend was a liability. But I did my best to keep boundaries for him and his gf. I just wanted him to talk to me at least.
But then, one day, he said something....so ...stupid lol
We had gone to the mall together as we usually did, and his gf called, asked what he was up To.
He told her.. "I'm at the mall with my ex."
.......
Not (my name here). Not "my best friend". Not even just "my friend". MY EX. WHO TF SAYS THAT ???
So I guess she obviously was unhappy and he goes to take the call privately. I started feeling anxious and like I'm doing something wrong... 😅 when he came back I asked if that's all he sees me as? His ex? And he said Well you are, you're my ex girlfriend after all, im not going to lie to her.
I said but ____ ...I'm you're friend... 😅. And he said Yeah, but we dated. You're my ex.
So here we are at the mall, I just bought him all these gifts because yknow I'm a dumb bitch, and he's just there calling me his ex and nonchalantly... 😅
That's where things went downhill.
His girlfriend hated me. My existence. I guess rightfully so...but she never would tell him to get shit together, she would come after me about it with messages and phone calls...it was stressful lol.
Then when I thought things were fine, everything finally was hashed out, I still have my fp, his gf is actually cool, she's my new friend. Everything is fine
He blocked me.
He didn't just block me, but basically erased my existence from his life.
Couldn't text or call him. Couldn't DM him. Couldn't send him a fb message. Literally nothing.
His brother told me he got rid of all the paintings I made for him. All the gifts.
He deleted me.
And I just... didn't exist anymore.
I panicked. I got scared and I got anxious and I tried what I could to just get a word out of him, something. Just tell me WHY?????? lol..like why just shut me out, in like the most random and hurtful way possible? After everything, don't I at least deserve a heads up? An explanation? Idk, something? Fucking smoke signals? A letter? An email?????
That was it. He just deleted me. My last message to him I left on IG was
"____ I'm not even angry at this point. Just please tell me what I did wrong now? Please just tell me what happened? I'm sorry if I hurt you or if I hurt ______ in anyway...Just don't shut me out like this please. Whatever your reasons are at this point okay fine but just please tell me why and what I did. I just need to at least know.."
I got no reply back and that was the last message.
For the next following days, weeks, months. I guess I went through withdrawal of not talking to him everyday 😅 not having that friendship. I was depressed, crying all the time, anxiety would rise and fall throughout the day dramatically. I'd anxiously look at my phone hoping he'd replied. But I never got anything.
I missed him.
After some time, another person we knew told me that he was talking about me at his job. At first I thought "oh? Maybe he's thinking of talking to me again?"
But no.
He talked about what a shit friend I was. How I never showed care. How I apparently was always such a bitch and didn't know how to just chill out. How I was always so intense and my favorite "she's a mess".
He read my message, and told everyone he didn't bother replying because "how can she not see how she's a lot".
😅
So naturally, I emailed him 😂.
I told him how much I hated him, how he's a piece of shit, how dare he call me a bad friend. I told him what a little bitch he is and how I wanted to beat his face in and to stay the fuck away from me forever.
Yknow, all that good stuff...
I mean clearly, yeah, I'm a mess. But I wasn't a bad friend. That much I knew, but it didn't matter. The thoughts ate me up. The worry and overthinking had a field day in my head. The constant thought of "you see how you're so much you just fuck shit up? Why can't you just be normal?"
He made me question my own sanity, my love, the way I am. Am I really innocent? What if he's right? What I even fooled myself into thinking I'm good but really, what if I'm just so evil that I'm good at manipulating others into believing I'm good?
I still wonder that tho, I live in constant doubt of myself and my own intentions, I wonder if I'll ever be able to just be me and not feel like I constantly need to validate and confirm my own emotions and feelings accordingly. It's tiring and now I don't even know how to just react without thinking about my reactions first.
Today he tried pretending non of that happened. Like he never had anything to do with the way I am now. He smiled, he joked, he talked to me, he tried hugging me. He took me to Chipotle to get lunch. Then he asked me about how I've been and how I've been dealing with my anxiety. Because he worried.....
LOL EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME SIR???????
Needless to say I went off and told him how we are just coworkers and he lost the right to ask that question forever ago.
Still, the fucked up part is, I still miss him. 🙄 ew.
I don't even know why I'm writing all this. Maybe Because writing it makes it so that it's out of my head and here. Maybe a small part of me felt happy today because small moments felt like the old days. With his dumb jokes and always finding ways to make me laugh and smile.
Mostly I guess to remind myself why I can't let myself be swayed back in a friendship with someone like him. Because I know that if I did, it would just end the same and I would have played myself again.
Womp, well that was a lot 😅 im gonna go back to sleep now, this kinda helped I guess.
Sorry for the long rant and shit 😅 goodnight nobody and everybody!
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picturetoburnnn · 5 years ago
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From Kisses to Hospital Visits | l.h. x reader
word count - approx. 2k
warning - the f-word is used like twice?? some severe angst here with some fluff interludes
a/n - I wrote this in one sitting because the idea came to me and i have nothing better to do on a wednesday night lol. hope y’all like it! if you ask nice enough there may be a part 2
taglist - @songforhema @asht0ns-world @lukesflaredpants @sunflowerxcal @star-gazing-calum @cxddlyash @emomack @merryblueberry02 @kinglyhood @caswinchester2000 @babe-babylon @irwinkitten @1delicate-fangirl dm me to be added!!! 
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Y/N wiped her eyes with one hand as the other clutched her lover’s limp fingers.
“You gotta wake up, baby,” she whimpered, covering her mouth to try to muffle her cries. The metal of her engagement ring was bitingly cold against her skin, but she paid no attention. “You have to wake up for me, Luke.”
The beautiful blue eyes remained shut. He looked dead, even though the vital monitors showed his body worked just fine. Every part of him was functioning perfectly, except his conscious mind.
Luke lifted Y/N in the air, hands on her hips as she squealed.
“Luke! Put me down!” She laughed as he spun her in the air.
Luke’s eyes twinkled, his grin brighter than the Christmas lights that hung all over their home. 
Softly, he placed her feet back on the ground. His forehead pressed against hers as his grin softened to a sincere smile. Y/N’s arms curved around his neck, fingers tangling in his ever-messy curls.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I say it a lot, but it never feels like enough. I’ll never be able to tell you just how much I love you.”
She gently placed a hand on his cheek. “I know.”
Luke’s eyes met Y/N’s. His hand found her free one, intertwining their fingers between them. They were swaying now, dancing to a song only they could hear - their heartbeats made the bassline, their thoughts the lyrics. “A thousand love songs couldn’t do you justice.”
She felt her eyes water slightly as she told him “I love you more.”
He let out a breath of amusement. He said, as he did every time she said those words, “Impossible.”
“How is he?”
The new voice shook Y/N out of her thoughts, looking up from her place by his hospital bedside to see Luke’s bandmates in the doorway. Ashton’s hands were stuffed in his pockets, despair clear in his face. Calum and Michael didn’t look much better off. But how could they? Their best friend was in a coma, after all. 
Y/N quickly wiped her eyes again before sniffling. “No changes. Doctor said all we can do now is wait.” She averted her eyes back to Luke, scared she would miss the moment he opened his eyes. 
Ashton nodded, stepping into the room. He crossed the room with one despairing look at the boy that had been his brother for so many years. “And what about you? How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” she mumbled, another tear falling. She didn’t bother wiping it away. She just kept staring at the motionless body of the love of her life.
“No you’re not.” He crooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. In the past four years, Y/N had become like a little sister to Ashton. He wanted her to be safe from pain like this her whole life. He never thought she’d have to experience this.“When did you last eat?”
“I said I’m fine, Ash,” she protested, removing her face from his touch. “I need to be here.” Her gaze fell back to Luke. All the cords and wires on his body broke her heart. How broken inside really was he? When would her Luke come back? With smiles and gentle kisses and everything this Luke was missing. 
“Y/N,” Calum said quietly from across the room. He and Michael had taken post standing on the opposite side of the hospital bed, near the blonde’s head. “You need to eat. You need to sleep. He wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“You don’t know what he wants,” she blurted before she could stop herself. “He’s in a fucking coma, he can’t tell any of us what he wants.” Ashton’s hand was suddenly on her shoulder. 
“Y/N…” 
She exhaled as easily as she could. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, y’know,” Michael spoke for the first time since they’d arrived. All eyes turned to him. “It’s okay to be worried, it’s okay to snap. But you have to take care of yourself. Luke would kick our asses if he woke up to find out you were in a hospital bed too. If you won’t, would you please let us help?”
At first, she said nothing. When all of the boys simultaneously gave her a pleading look, she sighed. Without a word, she nodded. 
“C’mere,” Ashton mumbled, gently tugging at her shoulders until she stood from the uncomfortable swivel chair she’d been in for the last twenty-something hours. He led her to the couch, sitting down and tugging her down too. He gently pulled her to lay down, head in his lap. “Get some sleep, angel,” he mumbled. She vaguely heard him ask someone to go get food, attention focused primarily on her fiance’s form.
“It’s so hot,” Y/N whined as they walked down the street. 
“Not as hot as me,” Luke sassed teasingly, clearly amused with himself. 
“Luke, I love you, but I think this one-hundred degree heat has got you beat.” Y/N fanned herself. 
The vacation to Florida had sounded good in theory, but the couple quickly realized it was an awful idea to come in the middle of the summer. 
“Oh come on,” Luke half whined, half laughed.
“I tell you what.” Y/N’s eyes shifted up to her then-boyfriend as he spoke. “Once we get back to the hotel, we go hop in the pool to cool off.”
She almost moaned at the idea. “Oh my god please yes.”
When they returned later that evening, true to his word, Luke threw the bikini at Y/N as he changed into his swim trunks. The couple raced like toddlers to the outdoor pool. Haphazardly throwing their stuff onto the nearest chair, both Luke and Y/N cannon balled into the water. 
“I won,” Luke boasted smugly once they broke the surface again.
“Nu-uh! I totally beat you in!” Y/N laughed as she splashed the singer. 
“No you didn’t,” Luke scoffed.
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Yeah!”
“You’re a sore loser.”
“Since when did you talk to yourself?”
Luke didn’t have a snappy comeback, so he maturely stuck his tongue out. Y/N rolled her eyes as he waded closer to her. 
“Admit defeat.” He pulled her to straddle his thighs as he leaned against the pool wall in the five-and-a-half-foot deep water. 
“Never.”
“Then you leave me no choice,” he said dramatically. 
Before Y/N could even lift a confused eyebrow, Luke dunked her underwater. 
She resurfaced, spluttering. “What was that?!” 
Luke had lost himself to laughter, practically clutching his sides as he cackled. 
“Meanie!” Y/N splashed water at him, pretending to be mad as she turned her back on him. 
“No, baby,” he mumbled, voice still tinged with laughter. “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” she challenged. 
“I love you.” His arms wrapped around her middle. She felt his front against her back as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. 
Y/N spun to face him. “Prove it, Mister Meanie Pants.”
His lips met hers immediately, fiercely. It was innocent but seductive all at once, passionate but light. 
After what felt like an eternity in the best way, he pulled away. “Did I prove it?”
“I don’t know,” she smirked. “I think I might still need to be convinced.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but leaned back in with a wide smile. 
Y/N didn’t remember falling asleep on Ashton’s lap, but when she woke, there was a bag of french fries sitting in front of her, still warm. Ashton’s hand was gently smoothing her hair, his other scrolling through his phone. She shifted in the smallest way, and Ashton immediately knew she was up. 
“Hey,” he whispered, careful not to wake the other boys who had fallen asleep almost as soon as they got back. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” she mumbled whilst stretching sleepily. “How long did I sleep?”
“Just a couple hours.” At her widening eyes, he added, “There’s no news on Luke.”
Y/N nodded. 
Ashton and Y/N spoke softly about small things, about what they would do after Luke woke up. 
When there was a flash of movement in her peripheral vision, Y/N stopped talking mid-sentence, head whipping to the side.
“Y/N?” Ash questioned, concerned.
“Shh!” She held up one finger at Ashton, signalling him to be quiet.
Y/N swore her heart stopped the moment he moved again.
Then, like a spell had been lifted, Luke’s eyes fluttered open. 
“Y/N, you know I love you.” Luke started one evening as they sat cuddled together on the couch, watching whatever comedy special happened to catch their attention that night. 
Y/N looked up at him from where she was resting on his chest, clearly confused. “...Yeah?”
“I love you and only want the best for you--”
“Luke, what’s going on?” He could see the panic starting to build up in her mind and he had half a mind to forget what he was about to say and kiss away the anxiety instead. 
“I… I don’t think I can call you my girlfriend anymore.” 
Y/N bolted upright, now straddling him. “What?”
“I think that you and I… we aren’t fit to just date anymore. I’m sorry, angel.”
Y/N’s eyes were watering. “But I love you,” she stammered.
“I love you too.”
“But I can’t be your girlfriend anymore? What the fuck Luke?” At this point, she actually was crying, and Luke wanted to forget everything he had planned. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her face until the pain disappeared. 
“I can’t call you my girlfriend,” he said as he reached into his pocket, “because I really, really want to call you my wife.”
Confusion was written across her face until he brought out a little velvet box. 
“I can’t live being your boyfriend. I want to be your husband, your rock through the long and hard times. I want to be your home, like you’re mine. I want to be able to love you every day for the rest of my life. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms until the day I die. I want to marry you.”
Tears fell from her face, though now for an entirely different reason. Both hands covered her mouth as she looked back and forth from Luke, to the ring, and back again. She nodded slowly at first, until she couldn’t help repeat the motion incredibly fast. 
“Is that a yes?” Luke laughed. 
“Yes!” She blurt out. “Oh my god, yes. I love you so much, yes yes yes a million yesses.”
The curly blond grinned as he brought his lips back to hers in a sweet kiss. 
“You’re an ass,” she mumbled with a smile brighter than the stars, lips against his.
“Why’s that?” He beamed.
“Making me think you’re breaking up with me instead of spending the rest of your life with me.”
He laughed, placing his forehead on her shoulder as he fiddled with getting the ring out of the box. 
Luke slid the ring onto her finger, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”
“I love you,” she breathed. 
“I love you more.”
“Impossible.”
He grinned.
Y/N nearly ran the whole three steps over to the bedside. “Luke? Oh my god, you’re okay.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she enveloped him in a hug. Hesitantly, he returned the gesture.
Y/N pulled away, a wide smile on her lips. It faded fast with the blond’s three words. 
“Who are you?”
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probably-writing-x · 6 years ago
Text
Circles.
Request from the lovely @bringmethehorizonandpizza : kay, but, like, being in the same circle as harrison and having a crush on him but never really saying anything cause, reader things that he doesn't even know she exists, and then she gets drunk and 'cheekily slides' into his dm's and they strike up a conversation, and finally when they meet again (idk at a photoshoot or something) he mentions it and the reader is a blushing mess mortified at what she has done. (she may have admitted to having a crush on him during their drunk conversation)
~~~
The red cup in your hand was definitely the burning fuel to your current dancing - having been at this party long enough for the concoction to begin to take hold. You weren't complaining however with the noughties throwback blaring through the speakers that you knew all the words to and enough casual dance moves to keep you going all night. It was a house party hosted by a friend of a friend with your entire circle invited to make the house packed with half known faces. Thankfully, you had your close group of friends and were more than happy to mingle that you only really knew through a mutual connection to someone else.
"Ayyy go on (Y/n/n)!" Sam laughs, one of your closest friend's boyfriend, as he makes his way over to where you were.
"Come on, you should be dancing too!" You exclaim, taking his free hand and swaying it in time with your steps, trying to provoke him to dance a little.
"No, no, no," He shakes his head, taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand, "I was just coming to say hi,"
You roll your eyes, "This is your party! You should always dance at your own party,"
"It was Harry's idea," He points out, "And he's not dancing either!"
You glance over to where he was looking to see his twin brother standing rigid in the mass of dancing people, being encouraged to dance by the boy beside him. He looked to be a couple of years older than you with verh distinctive features for you to instantly deem him handsome. In fact, he was Harrison - the best friend of your best friend's boyfriend's brother's brother. Or something along those lines...
"See he-" You point toward the blonde haired boy, "He seems like my type of guy," You take another gulp of the drink in your hand and know it is definitely taking effect now.
Harry and Harrison see you two looking over and it doesn't take long for Harrison to be dancing in time with you from across the room, both of you moving thanks to pure intoxication and with no real skill but with enough drunken rhythm to keep you going.
Everyone in the room yells the known chorus to the song and you find that Harrison has dismissed your presence, dancing around the people surrounding him. Because you were just another of the bodies in the crowd of people that loved the cheery companion - the one that could talk to anyone. The one that you couldn't deny you had a bit of a crush one - one mainly fueled by his Instagram photos and the few times you two had been in each other's presence.
"Let's get me another drink!" You say, lifting your cup up and making your way toward the kitchen to find whatever alcohol was scattering the counter tops that would refill your cup and re-intoxicate your mind.
And boy, oh boy, was it a good night.
~~~
The headache the next morning wasn't one that you welcomed however, despite it being a sign that you'd definitely enjoyed yourself the previous night.
Your phone flashing alive beside your head was what woke you up originally and you groan and roll over to reach for it on the adjacent pillow.
Oh shit.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. You enjoyed yourself wayyy too much last night. There were texts to random people on here. One to Sam telling him how lucky he was to have your best friend - she must've helped you get home. One to Harry telling him that he has a terrible taste in music - you could vaguely remember sharing a conversation with him about it when he was in charge of the playlist. One to your Mum asking her if you'd ever be ready to be a parent - you must've went through an emotional phase. But the cherry on top of a pile of shit cake, the top message sent to Harrison. Harrison flipping Osterfield!
And he'd replied. You dreaded to think what you'd said originally. But, with overly cautious movements, you clicked onto the new conversation.
'Hey handsomeeee x Your a pretty good dancer maybe we could have more of a private dance soon ;)'
The god awful attempt of flirting, the sickeningly poor use of the incorrect 'You're', and the pathetic winky face at the end. What were you thinking?!
'I'll take it you're feeling the same headache that I am this morning so I'll brush past the drunken comments for now. Always good to meet someone that's the life of the party x'
Hmm... A surprisingly polite reply to your extremely forward and stupid message sent only a few hours before when the alcohol was running through your veins more than blood or sanity for that matter.
You settle back onto the pillow beneath you and stare up at the white ceiling above, your phone above your head in your hands like you would be able to magic up a response that was witty enough to recover your previous words. But, in your true fashion, the phone fell from your weak hands and slapped you straight in the face. Yeah, his casual collected response was not one you could easily match.
~~~
It was later in the day and you'd been busy catching up on some uni work from the hungover comfort of your bed when your phone buzzed again - signalling a text you weren't expecting.
'Okay I don't want to seem stalkerish but you were pretty wasted last night and now you haven't replied... Are you alive or do I need to call someone? x'
Why did that make your heart flutter so much? And why had Harrison bothered to send a second text? Why did he even think about you again? Had he been thinking about you since the first one?
'I'm good, just welcoming the comfort of sober sheets. Although I think alive might be a bit of a stretch, I haven't found a cure for this headache yet x'
Your response is sent and you find yourself procrastinating work by waiting for his response which is quick to follow.
'Pancakes. Always pancakes. Get some syrup on there and eat as many as you can x'
And that's how it all starts. You two spend the rest of the day talking. About pancakes and cooking and Netflix and university and acting and everything but what happened last night. So much so that part of you believes he has completely forgotten and it will never be spoken of again. You welcome the thought.
With an empty plate where pancakes once lay beside you and your body spread diagonally across your bedspread, you were in the midst of conversation with Harrison about which breed of dog was best. He was making his ongoing point about spaniels when you really realised what was going on - he knew you existed. And that was enough to ease the pain of the headache just a little more than the pancakes did.
~~~
The conversation died out by the next morning. You assumed he'd fallen into a deep, very-needed sleep just like you and the last effects of the alcohol had worn off completely - leaving you sober and him moving on to another day without your existence. Why did it pain you a little? But, despite your enjoyment of hungover, still slightly drunk texts, you knew it was probably for the best. Lord knows it wouldn't turn out well if you properly fell for him.
Instead, you had a text on your phone from another H - Harry.
'Right, I've given you a day for the alcohol to be drained. Now can you do me a huge favour? I need a model for a photography project I'm working on and you'd be perfect, care to help a Holland out? x'
'Of course, when do you need me?'
The two of you plan a time for a couple of weeks from now and you think nothing of it. Until the day arrives.
~~~
You were already running late which you would forever despise yourself for - you hated people being late but never found it in yourself to be punctual. And with a steaming coffee in hand and the last street of pavement beneath your feet, ten minutes late was enough for you to celebrate yourself. Ten minutes, that's not too bad.
"There you are! I thought I'd given you both the wrong address," Harry exclaims as he opens the door to the studio for you.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," You repeat, tugging your earphones out of your ears and stuffing them into your pocket, "And both of us?"
"Yeah he should be here any minute," The Holland brother calls over his shoulder as he hurries toward the set for the shoot, clearly far too run off his feet to focus on you too much.
You walk over to the clothing rail to scan across the outfits for the shoot - a fashion brand had contacted Harry and asked that he take full control over the entire shoot - a great opportunity for him but a concerning one for his stress levels.
"Well, hello," An oddly unknown familiar voice comes through from the other side of the rail, hidden behind the jackets.
When you glance up, you spot the crystal blue eyes that couldn't be mistaken in a crowd of thousands, least of all when it was just the two of you.
"Harrison," You exhale and it's as much as you can manage to say.
"And you're (Y/n)," He laughs, "But I thought we already knew that,"
"Yeah," You nod, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck and suddenly regretting not choosing a more flattering outfit for the day.
It is decided by you that now would be the best time to exit, swiveling on your heel and hoping to get away from him quickly.
"And, hey," Harrison's hand catches on your wrist and stops you, his chest flush against your back and his lips low next to your ear, "Maybe we can find some time for that private dance,"
Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland
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couriertraush · 7 years ago
Text
Meant to type up these plot notes ages ago. After Silt played DM, I asked about a swapped AU where Larkin is dragged off to the Madre and Ryker is chewed on and left for dead in the bunker, and she made a comment about Larkin Not Wanting To Talk About It, and a few scenes put themselves together in my head. This is rambling meta rather than writing, though.
Friendly reminder that a description and short drabble of the opposite scenario exists (confession, Silt’s reply on that fic is one of my fav ever, anyWAY;;)
So the scenario is Ryker injured, Larkin dragged to Sierra Madre, no rescue party. Dog says he ate Ryker, and nobody can confirm that didn’t happen, so Larkin has to accept that might be the truth. Elijah and Dog do not make it out alive.
So Ryker spent the week or two mostly at courier base, being treated and recovering. She lost her right arm completely and had her shoulder and side injured. She doesn’t think Larkin is dead because she never saw a body, but the couriers are trying not to get her hopes up. Most of Larkin’s things were stripped and left by the bunker entrance, which isn’t promising. Ryker is pretty pissy that there’s no mass search efforts despite having no leads as to where she might be (other than the Madre, which no one knows the location of, so). Being at the base is really Not Fun for anyone.
I’m on the fence about whether Larkin would go to base or bunker first, but the latter is appealing because it’s the last place she saw Ryker and she’d get to witness the dried blood that nobody bothered to clean up. No body wouldn’t really be a red flag since Dog said he ate her. All their personal effects were taken to base, though, so she’s gotta go there for supplies at the very least.
She’s never one to start off with hostility, but her friendly demeanor is on some pretty thin ice when she gets to base. There’s a few pertinent questions that’ll determine her exact reaction: 1. Do they know what happened? 2. Did they ever try to come help either of them? 3. What did they do with any remains? To some degree, help when they get in over their heads is part of the reason the twins are in the faction to begin with. It’s not really fair to expect them to put their own necks on the line by coming to the Madre, and they definitely walked into that trap on their own, but I suppose losing a twin doesn’t really put one in the most generous state of mind.
They’re genuinely surprised to see Larkin alive, which she kinda shrugs off like “:) I sure am.” “Where were you?” and “Are you okay?” come up, but Larkin’s not about to launch into a story for them. She’s getting a water out of the fridge (it was a long walk) when Wyn makes some offhand comment, like “Ryker is never going to stop saying ‘told you so’“ or “Maybe this’ll ease Ryker out of volcano territory,” and Larkin freezes for just a second as the implication sinks in. She manages to still be remarkably composed as she pivots and says “She’s in back, then?” and kind of hurry-walks to the bedroom.
Ryker is half-sulking, half-sleeping in the medical cot with her back to the door, and Larkin reaches out to touch the top of the mound which unfortunately is her stub of a shoulder, but Ryker’s irritation is quickly eclipsed by her relief at seeing Larkin in one piece. (Bonus points if Wyn made the former comment and the first thing out of Ryker’s mouth is “I fucking told them!”) Ryker’s immediately talkative and moves her legs so Larkin can sit on the bed, and Larkin is more than happy to answer shorter questions or nod along while privately reeling at seeing her alive again.
I guess I can say from experience now that the stitched up wound would still hurt and make moving difficult less than two weeks later. But they’d still want that period of recovering in private, moving around to different hideaways or visiting Lake Meade with plenty of time to rest and relay their stories in private. I imagine Larkin’s in a better state healthwise than Ryker would be in the mirror AU since Larkin isn’t as impulsive or reckless. (An aside, but I’ve always felt like it’s the better scenario for both of them - Ryker would adapt to a missing limb better than Larkin would and physical trauma doesn’t hound her like the psychological trauma of DM does.)
Larkin conveniently leaves out the part where she thought Ryker was dead, and in better circumstances Ryker would probably pick up on the more subtle cues, but she reads them as general concern for her wellbeing (which is technically true). And thus begins the vein of tension between the twins.
Ryker thinks she’s recovered long before she really is, and Larkin is extremely paranoid about losing Ryker - or just letting Ryker out of her sight long enough that she gets hurt. Which is fine for the first part of her recovery, since Ryker is also getting over separation anxiety and it’s convenient that she doesn’t have to actually say things like “hey so I don’t have the upper body strength to get this shirt off” before Larkin steps in to help. But once she’s feeling well enough to travel and - god forbid - carry packages, Ryker starts to feel peevish about the constant attention.
It crystallizes when they’re wandering off path a ways and Ryker steps within range of a mine. It’s SOP for her to just disarm it and keep it to sell, she’s pretty good with explosives, but Larkin panics (bombs, it just had to be bombs) and grabs her collar to yank her away. She shields most of Ryker with her own body, and her armor keeps her mostly safe, but it hurts and her ears are still ringing when Ryker is rounding on her with fury fueled by a mix of frustration and concern. “I know how to disarm a fucking frag mine!” “With one arm?” “It’s two wires!”
And for the next week, Ryker is constantly sore about being “babied.” They go for a swim in Lake Meade, and Larkin is clearly hovering, but Ryker keeps her mouth shut until her sister has the nerve to ask if she’s getting tired. “This is it for me, Larkin. My side is cramping and I’m going to drown in three foot deep water while you watch helplessly from a foot away.” They stop by base and Ryker asks for the biggest, heaviest package they’ve got while staring at Larkin.
And for the most part, Larkin just grins and acts like it doesn’t bother her. What’s she going to do, Talk About It? It’s not like Ryker is providing the opening even if she wanted to. Her temper is short too, but she’s acutely aware that if she pushes back too hard, Ryker might actually do something stupid. Like swim across Lake Meade just to prove that she can.
Other than Larkin snapping to a degree where Ryker Gets It, I imagine it’d take two or three conversations for the realization to work its way around to Ryker. Base is one of the few places Larkin feels okay leaving Ryker so they can get some time apart to cool off, and Wyn is one of the few people Ryker can tentatively call a friend, so the venting would probably be directed towards her before too long. (I suppose, luckily for Larkin, Wyn would take her side on most accounts re: Ryker pushing herself too hard.) The touching undertone I have written down is Ryker admitting that she’s being an ass, but she also knows that Larkin can handle the worst she has to dish out without being pushed away.
Wyn would be situated pretty well to be Ryker’s reality check while the topic is already up. Like... dude, she probably thought you were dead. I feel like Larkin’s initial reaction on her return to base would be a bit outwardly suspicious to begin with, but maybe Wyn had to prod in that direction before too; it’s a question Larkin wouldn’t have answered, but sometimes an evasion from a twin is answer enough. The suggestion would give Ryker pause and make her ask why, but the gears wouldn’t really get turning until later, when she’s with Larkin and something would’ve set her off, but she remembers the suggestion and clamps her mouth shut this time. Which is concerning to Larkin since Ryker hasn’t had an ounce of chill for the last week, but it’s hard to not appreciate the temporary peace.
Ryker brings it up out of the blue sometime when they’re both engaged in their own activity: Larkin a book which she’s giving about 20% effort into reading and Ryker some spare parts she insists on trying to manipulate with one hand. Just, good old blunt “Larkin, did you think I was dead? Cuz... that would explain a fucking lot.” The half-truth is “Didn’t know where y’were or what state you were in.” “But why ‘dead’?” Larkin is somewhere between wanting to play it off in the hopes of it being dropped permanently (”With your personality, it’s hard to believe everyone doesn’t want to kill you” or “When you didn’t come find me after a week, dead seemed like a strong contender”) and sending signals to stop prying in that direction because Ryker owes her at least that. And Ryker’s able to pick up on that, so she goes back to her fiddling for a minute before offering a very sincere “I’m sorry.” For not realizing earlier, and for being an over the top ass recently.
Which isn’t to say she’s not going to test her own limits and roll her eyes at Larkin’s hovering, but she better understands where she’s coming from. And maybe do a liiiittle more reading between the lines re: Larkin’s demeanor.
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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago
Text
Preying On You:
(Vampire! Sojourn! Michael+Reader):
(A/N): Hello lovelies!
I have a lot to say before this fic so please excuse my sorry ass, for blabbering and let’s get this over with!
First of all this fic is dedicated to the lovely @sojournmichael (she is literally the sweetest person ever, and like I believe that humanity has a chance because she is alive) since she is actually a fan of vampire Michael so... hope you’ll enjoy this babe!
(Also big shoutout to @moonanonwriting who ispired a lot of vampire asks, Eva’s page, she is amazing and an aesthetic goddess, so be sure to check her out!).
(And also to @dyns33 who has a vampire foursome which is *chief kiss*, love you babe!).
Now personal thing: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOU FRIENDS ALONE AT NIGHT (both males and females)! I have been left a shit ton of times by my friend alone and although I am still here to tell the tale, it costs you nothing to accompany your friends and avoid them being alone and you might save a life.
Also the vampire society in this fic is inspired to the one of “The Black Dagger Brotherhood” (those are my favorite vampires books, highly suggested, if you are looking for smut and hot males!); if you need any more info on this world, please let me know both in asks or DMs.
I would love if you could leave an heart or a reblog (mostly because lately my fics are dying so...) and if you ever want to talk with me about it, my DMs are eternally open and my asks can also be anonymous, I love my shy babes!
Hope you’ll enjoy this!
SUMMARY: What was supposed to be a girls’ night out turn out much more bloody than what ou expected, but there might be some advantages to meeting a vampire...
WORDS: 6,6 K
WARNINGS: Unprotected (DON’T FORGET CONDOMS, KIDS), Rough Sex, Dub-Con, Blood Consumption and Blood Kink (THERE WILL BE BLOOD, KIDS!), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Kidnapping (and mention of sexual trafficking, alongside use of drugs to kidnap), Michael being a bit of a stalker...
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She wasn’t supposed to be alone on her way back to the train station, after her girls’ night out she had had.
Her friends had promised her that they would all be taking the train and then go back at home, at a decent hour of the night.
But what actually happened was that her friends actually leaft her alone, because of boys they had just met.
She had thought that the magical experience of fucking somebody at a beach party would be less entertaining than actually bringing your friend, safe and sound at home, avoiding her the walk of shame, between drunk and high people, not to talk about the perverts that without no alcohol would have taken her in an angle and pushed an hand over her mouth…
She tried not to think about what might happen to a girl in a party dress, a bit too short and provocative (still she was sure she could have worn her most conservative dress and she would have still gotten idiots whistling at her) with nothing in her little purse (she damned the choice, certainly comfortable for dancing but she could have barely fitted inside the little clutch a little bit more than her ID, a box of tissues, her keys and her phone) that she could use as a weapon.
At first she had tried to beg her friends but they had just waved her away, a bit plastered from all the alcohol they had in their veins, clinging to the guys they had chosen for the night, exchanging glances which clearly said “we are getting laid, tonight”.
“Girls, I seriously don’t feel like I can go back to the train station, alone” she had tried to insist, pleading with her eyes her friends and their one-night-stand, trying to do her best to get them to understand her own worries…
… but apparently being drunk took all the compassion away from your soul.
They had denied immediately her request and the two guys had told her to “shoo away” and find herself somebody, which she wouldn’t do, since not only she had some respect for herself but she didn’t feel attracted by any of the guys there, alongside being unable to enjoy herself at those parties.
But she had decided to give it a chance after her friends had begged her to go, calling her “an asocial dumbass” and she had decided to try it, just to make her friends happy.
Now she realized that the next time she would have closed the door in their faces gladly.
…if she lived to see another day.
She knew she was being dramatic: nothing would be happening to her.
But still she didn’t feel, safe in the slightest.
The journey was in plain light and it was barely ten minutes if she walked fast, alongside being crowded because of all the clubs in it.
But she still felt threatened by even the slightest smile sent on her way, judging it was better just to fake being on her phone with her headphones on.
She was halfway through a very serious recount of her day to her imaginary friend, when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
She honestly didn’t want to turn around, expecting it to be either some guy wanting to flirt with her, or some drunk guy asking her if he had seen his friend, when he was right behind him.
But she reasoned with herself too late and as soon as she got all those ideas on who it might have been, she just turned around to be met with an elegant middle-aged woman, sporting grey hair and  wearing an elegant vintage outfit.
She seemed so out of place, both for the fact that she was much older than the guys she was with, but her entire outfit gave the idea that she wasn’t there to dance the night away.
She had this dark and off vibe that clearly shouldn’t have belonged to a middle-aged and smiling woman, but she blamed her paranoid brain for that sensation (she had even felt like a tree was threatening her with its shadow).
She smiled shyly at the woman, who instead was extremely open and straight up assumed the lead of the situation, grabbing gently her arm.
-I am so sorry to bother you, but my dog has run away and won’t come back to my car… so I was thinking that you might help me with guiding him back to it…- although it seemed ridiculous the lady smelled of dog, and she looked over her car, which was right in front of the crowded club she had been stopped at.
It didn’t seem a dangerous situation, in the slightest, mostly because she tried to release any tension in her body, thinking she was just being too paranoid.
Nothing would happen… and even if it would… she had her phone, she was in crowded and illuminated place and her attacker was an old lady, which she could easily overpower if she turned out to be a drug-dealer.
-… oh ok, but…- she looked at her phone to check the hour, realizing she could spare only five minutes for the “dog mission”, since she wanted to arrive at the train station a bit early in order not to miss the last train of the night -… I am a bit … late to a thing-.
-It will take you just a minute! – the old lady smiled, pleading her with her blue eyes -… and I will be eternally grateful to you for saving my little Dahlia-.
She just took a deep breath and followed the woman which swiftly walked over to the next side of the road, meanwhile she kept on checking her phone and she was immensely relieved to see the dog, a small white poodle, who looked more scared than her, and which immediately the woman tried to calm down.
The woman moved on his other side, meanwhile signaling to her to keep her position, trying to distract the dog from her, and when the dog started slowly barking towards its owner, happily and with too much energy, she snatched him up, almost dying under its weigh.
The poodle might have seemed small, but it actually weighted much more than she had imagined.
But thankfully the woman, its owner, was in front of her, holding out her hands in order to make her leave there the puppy which, although moved a bit, clearly uncomfortable, seemed unthreatening and didn’t try to escape again in her owner’s hands and neither to bite her.
She smiled at the old woman and made to turn around, but the woman just grabbed her arm, this time more roughly and immediately she felt the bad feeling in her gut return.
-Would you stay for a few minutes? Just to make sure that Dahlia won’t run away- she mumbled, meanwhile smiling gently at her, easing the bad feeling in her stomach, which got her to nod, since she was already in time to arrive early at the station, and moved on the other side of the car, the dark one, near the bushes, to open the door and let the woman put the dog in its cage.
The music was a bit too high and the choruses of drunk people didn’t help: she herself found at unease and a bit hazed by the entire atmosphere so she didn’t see the hand that came to her face with a tissues smelling weirdly.
It suffocated her immediately and she wasn’t able to do anything else but try to fight weakly, but quickly darkness took over, all of her senses shutting off and she fell in her worst nightmare.
As she woke up, she soon realized two things: she was blindfolded and naked.
Perfect: now old ladies were kidnapping people for sexual trafficking.
Was she on a “Law & Order SVU” episode?
But most importantly… was she seriously humoring this entire situation?
She had just been kidnapped and worst of all she would probably be used for sexual stuff she had seen on TV, and she was restrained to something which looked like a bed, without the mattress on it, since the coldness of metal bit in her skin.
She started hysterically crying, alternating it with laughs, at the absurdity of the situation and damning herself for not having trusted her guts.
If she ever came out of this, she would absolutely only trust her damned gut.
After the hysterics downed, she started trying to test the restrain, trying to do the movie thing of thrusting up her hands, but she immediately realized that they weren’t chained with rope, but with metal again, trying the same with her legs, which were more powerful but she was only able to thrust up a bit.
After this, she tried getting her hands out of the handcuffs but she was only able to scratch her skin.
This got her to stop anything and go back to her crying, immediately falling down the rabbit hole of overthinking, completely losing her mind, and tears spilling over her cheeks, her make-up ruined, meanwhile she tried to at least to avoiding sharing her shameful naked state, clinging her legs closer, and trying to crunch herself on her side, to ease her breathing.
She was just a few step away from a panic attack.
And then it all got worse, because she heard voices outside the room she was in.
She immediately got quiet, pushing up her ears in order to listen what was going on, thinking it might help her.
“My lord, the girl is waiting for you” perfect she was in a high-end brothel…
“Madeline, I already told you…” the tone seemed annoyed and tired and she almost cheered at the thought that he wouldn’t maybe… do what he was supposed to be doing with her…
“I know!” the tone of the woman was clearly saying that she knew they already had this conversation, but she wasn’t done “… but you will grow more and more weak if you don’t feed”.
Wait! Feed?!
Where the heck had she ended up being at…?
Was this a cannibal family?
She honestly preferred the high-end brothel option…
“I… am scared…” he mumbled shyly, almost childlike “… I have never done this before, with an alive being and not a blood bag”.
This was getting even more creepy.
She tried to close her eyes and repeat continuously “I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up… I am going to wake up…” but she didn’t open her eyes in her bed, and the feelings of the metal burning in her legs and hands hurt her, meanwhile the roughness of the blindfold pinched her and irritated the skin of her lids.
She couldn’t see much with the blindfold but the room in which she was in was immersed of red light, which brought her back to the hypothesis about it being all an high-end brothel… for clients with peculiar taste.
“She is restrained, my sweet boy, she won’t hurt you” the woman seemed to have moved closer to the boy, who instead just yelped softly “… just go and satiate your need, my lord”.
And with this being said she heard the swishing of the door and the soft steps of the old lady, Madeline and the stumbling of the boy, who quickly came in front of her, since his breath seemed closer.
She heard him take a deep breath, after having sniffed for a bit the air in the room (she was sur it was pretty stinky because she had sweated off all her anxiety and body liquids).
“I can see that she is to your liking” mumbled the woman, proudly and she just felt even more ashamed by the entire thing; she was almost angry for being treated like an object, being judged in her most vulnerable form by two strangers “… I thought you would have loved such a virginal look”.
Hadn’t she thought it was better to be unresponsive and hadn’t she been restrained she would have gladly fought against the two of them, for that treatment.
“Madeline, leave us” his voice from bothered and childlike had grown much darker and deeper and she couldn’t help a thrill from disappearing under her skin.
The worst thing was that she didn’t know if it was because of fear or arousal, which had started growing between her legs.
Perfect timing.
She heard the door closing and almost wanted to scream for the lady to come back, knowing perfectly that nothing good would be coming.
He moved closer to her on whichever surface she was propped on.
She immediately shrank away from him, pulling on the restraints, to push herself away to avoid any contact with him and he sensed it, an hand swiftly pushing herself on her face, caressing it gently to calm her down, but she just started sobbing, feeling like it might just make the things seem just worse.
-…. I am not going to hurt you, little thing- he mumbled, his hands moving gracefully, his other one joining his twin on the other side of her face, cupping gently her cheeks, as if he was trying to take a good look at her face -… you are so beautiful-.
She tried to take deep breaths, but the constriction of the restraints made her feel too caged to breath properly, meanwhile a panic attack was shaking her body, colors exploding under her eyes and she scrunched them closer, trying to avoid taking a glance to her assaulter.
-… but the fact that you are scared is making your delightful smell appear much more bitter, and I have a sweet tooth-.
How could he joke on something so dangerous?
This got rage coming oozing from her.
She fought, twist her hands and crunching her legs closer so that she might hit him with them, but nothing seemed to work, his hold became powerful, squishing her cheeks and he maneuvered himself so that he could stay on her and stop all her possibility of movement.
-… and now rage… it has a salty smell- he mumbled, meanwhile he tried to restrain her more softly, noticing (or maybe smelling?) her discomfort -… we need you to relax, little bird-.
-Don’t call me pet names- she gritted between her teeth, spitting out, thankful they hadn’t shut her mouth, although she feared he might after her little stunt.
-I don’t think that you are on the position to make demands- he intimidated her, his body suddenly being pushed on her naked one, the soft fabric he wore gently tickling her body and again… arousal shot through her veins -… much better, little fledging, I like the thought of my preys being in the throes of pleasure, meanwhile I feed from them-.
-Whatever you have in mind dirty bastard, I will make your life a living hell, when I get out of here- she pushed again, the chain not relenting, but he gently very gently moved some of her hair away from her face, a gesture which took her breath away.
-I am not the bad guy here, pretty girl- his tone had lowered an octave -… I don’t intend to make you feel bad in the slightest, I want you to actually enjoy this-.
-Untie me and let me kick your balls- she ordered her voice becoming much more high-pitched, hearing a laugh rumble on his chest which was pressing against hers -… that would make me feel much better-.
-That seems pleasurable only for you, my dear- he was now completely laying on her, his body pressing softly into her, with much more insistence than she was used, but her body didn’t seem to mind it, her entire features relaxing under him -… and I am actually working on our conjoined pleasures-.
-I am restrained, taken here against my will and scared as fucked- she replied, her hands making compulsive moves to accentuate her situation -… I don’t know how I can enjoy any of this-.
-Some people enjoy restraints- he said with a tone which said that he clearly did, and a smirk she could hear hinted in his words -… and I assure that no harm will come to your way, and to prove this I will unlace your blindfold, so you might calm down a bit-.
-What about my handcuffs? – she tried, smirking slightly or trying to, unsure of what getting her blindfold off might mean; he could try to kill her now that she knew his face, but also it brought some relief to her panicked state, although she wasn’t sure that she wanted to see whatever her assaulter looked like -… you are not going to kill me if I see your face?-.
-I stated that no harm will come your way and I will swear on anything unholy I know in my heart- except the “unholy part” of the discourse, everything seemed honest and sacred, enough that she let herself trust him, since her body was already on its way to succumb to him.
He unlaced the knot behind her blindfold, which she soon realized was just a rough piece of fabric, but she still kept her eyes closed, breathing slowly, trying to regain her composure and finally face him.
Her eyes slowly opened, adapting themselves to the soft red light in the room, which filled the room, sculpting even more his elegant traits.
Because what she had in front of herself was a god.
Perfectly soft blond hair, which gained a strawberry dye in them thank to the red light, meanwhile his face was elegantly sculpted, with traits soft and sharp, highlighting its perfect skin, smooth enough for her to want to touch him, her hands pushing against the chains, and he smirked at her impatience, his plump mouth immediately coming to her focus.
-You have the prettiest eyes- he breathed out, and a gentle kiss was pushed between them and she mumbled dizzy, on the affection he was showing her, cradling her gently:
-… you are so handsome- had she been drugged?
Her voice had come out in a rough gasp, arousal in it.
His eyes, two pool of azure eyes, famished and hurt, looking at her as if she was his only source of hope, the intensity in them made her blush and coat her thighs even more with her arousal.
He lowered himself and gently he kissed her.
Apparently his assaulter had a sweetness to himself she didn’t believe in, grabbing her face, being so careful that she might break and his lips gently caressed hers, just a little pressure, leaving here asking for more and as soon as he pushed himself away, she pouted up her lips to ask for more, hearing a giggle being pushed on them.
-… see… you are enjoying it- he laughed, before grabbing her legs gently, caressing them from her calves to her thighs, just a breath away from the true center -… and it will be only better from now on-.
-I’d still prefer to be free, and not restrained- because she couldn’t seriously deny what her body was asking for, and somehow his promise seemed genuine and true.
-As much as I believe that you would be on your best behavior if I release you from the hold of the chains…- his tone was joking and everything in him was teasing her, coming closer to her neck  -… I don’t believe that would be a good idea for me-.
He dosed kisses on her neck, giving her collarbones special attention, nibbling on them, meanwhile she moaned softly, her nails biting in his skin, meanwhile he slowly became more unhinged, bites being laid out and his clothed manhood pressing against her center, which had slowly started to leak on him.
-… but I feel uncomfortable- she complained, but the last part was quickly turned into a moan, when he started sucking on her neck, before his light stubble brushed over it and thrills started shrinking on her spine.
-I will make you feel much better soon, angel of mine- he promised, a kiss being laid on her forehead, before gently his nose started moving down her body, his lips marking each space he liked (which was anywhere) before he just stopped over her little Venus mound, staring at it with an intensity that made her close her eyes and whimper, unsure of herself.
Till she saw his amazed face, like a kid put in front of candies.
His tongue darted out between his lips, flicking teasingly between her folds, just searching a tiny taste of her, which brought immediate ecstasy to him, scrunching his eyes closer and smiling gently, as if he hadn’t expected less from her: sweet outside and inside.
And she gripped the chains to get some balance, unprepared for what his tongue promised and kept doing as soon as he got the hint that she enjoyed it.
He pushed himself closer to her, his tongue gently mapping her out, avoiding carefully her pearl of pleasure, and just exploring her folds, collecting the wetness on it, before laying gentle wet kisses on her thighs, letting her enjoy a moment of peace.
-… feeling better? – he looked slowly better at her, between long lashes, and she couldn’t help but feel a mess, tears and red cheeks on her face, not to talk about the state of her hair, which had brushed ungracefully against the surface, but he just looked at her as if he was seeing a masterpiece -… because you just made me even more hungry for you-.
And to point it out, he sucked a hickey on the frail skin of her inner thigh, his teeth pushing and pulling on her skin.
He then breathed on her pearl, delightfully engrossed, pushing through her folds and revealing itself softly to her assaulter, who then latched himself on it.
He started sucking and gently his hand reached out for her right nipple, twirling it between his fingers, pulling it and pulling out a moan, from her.
Then his tongue moved between the folds , again, patterns being delicately described on them, before he just started licking as if he was following his own pleasure and not hers, feeding himself on her excitement and ambrosia, and she pushed and pulled on the chains, just to get her hands in his soft hair to pull them and push him away, her sensitivity increasing with each step that brought her closer to her orgasm.
And it was in this situation of extreme pleasure that she was brought back by a sudden bite down her left inner thighs, almost as painful as the prick of a blood test, but a finger pushing on her clit brought her back in an ecstasy state again, although she wasn’t in the hazy atmosphere of the pre-orgasmic pleasure.
She tried to push herself up to understand what was going on, but the hand on her nipple, pushed her back, keeping her anchored down, but she soon heard other than the prick, sucking on her thigh, different from the one that had left the hickey, as if he was sucking something out of her.
She lost all her breath as soon as this sensation moved from pain to pleasure, with the lazy stroking of her clit and the kneading of her breasts, and she closed her eyes, to focus on the sensation, trying to understand what was going on between her thighs, mostly because the sucking was becoming more violent and she was slowly slowly feeling tired, although soft adrenaline run through her veins.
She was sure that five minutes had passed when he broke away, a kiss delivered on the sore pace on her thighs, a gasp and whine of pain leaving her mouth, meanwhile he gently breathed on the bruise, bringing some relief, before moving closer to her, and when she came face to face with him she saw that his teeth and lips were smeared with blood.
The sight terrified her, but also a part of her wanted to lick off the blood on his lips.
He had a crazy light on his face and he looked at her with the biggest smile she had ever seen, and although she knew it was crazy, she smiled back, meeting him halfway for a kiss, blood being smeared on her face and the tang of iron immediately stuck out in her mouth, meanwhile it all smeared on her lips as a messy lip-gloss and from the face she got…
… it turned him on.
-Look at you being all messy, angel of mine- and he licked her blood off her lips, much to his gluttony than to clean her.
She honestly wanted to think this was all fucked up, but… also… she just felt too excited for any thoughts that didn’t involve him and pleasure.
He had also proven himself unable to cause her true pain (the bite to her thigh only proved to be a precious aphrodisiac) so she somehow trusted him, fascinated by the damnation of his beauty and now that they were closer she saw that his eyes held a blunt hurt.
Tiredness satiated by her and adrenaline swiftly came over him and she soon found her legs around his waist, meanwhile he disrobed himself of his slacks.
She gently spread even more her legs, making sure to make him accommodate much better between them meanwhile she helped him out of his silk shirt, pushing it over his head, a joking smile being passed over his lips, immediately matched by hers.
When he was equally as disrobed as her he gently teased her folds with his manhood, spreading slickness around it, before pushing inside her unkindly, but it didn’t hurt for more than a few minutes, when he started moving savagely in her, a rhythm she had never had in her and a length which hit points she never knew she had.
He pushed an arm on the side of her face and the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head up to meet in a kiss, meanwhile she tried to grasp better her legs around him to secure herself better on him, in order not to lose her grip so easily as she was doing, bucking up at its pushes.
Her hips trying to follow his patterns, in order for him to brush against that special spot which made her gasp in true pleasure.
And he found it… again and again…
Which got her screaming of true pleasure, meanwhile he growled in her ears, before pushing his mouth on her neck, again something sharp on her neck and she slowly turned her head to it, finally understand what the pain was about…
… fangs were piercing her neck.
And the pain and the true madness didn’t hit her till that moment.
She came with a loud scream, fear pushing her over, but it didn’t end up there, he kept pushing in her, meanwhile he pulled out blood from her till she felt too dizzy to do anything and soon… blackness welcomed her, but only after her third orgasm of the night.
When she woke up, she was clothed in what looked like a silk slip and although she was still restrained, she wasn’t chained to a platform, instead her hands were “just” tied back, meanwhile her legs were gently linked together with a silk ribbon.
She was able to wriggle in order to get her back against the wooden headboard, meanwhile her eyes gently adapted themselves to the soft dark, much healthier than the red light in which she had been immersed for her nightmarish (although she could also swore that it had all been a very interesting and confusing wet dream) night with a vampire.
She immediately recognized a room which wasn’t hers, but it had such a good taste that she couldn’t help but take a second look to stare at everything, from the elegant shelves full of books to the curtains of a dark royal blue, velvet and heavy enough to avoid sun filtering there.
Was this another dream?
Or had it all been reality?
She was scared to discover more.
… but it wasn’t her decision to make.
A little cough alerted her that she wasn’t alone in the room and soon her eyes met her assaulter’s, the vampire’s eyes, which got her immediately shivering in her place, moving away even more in the bed, which only got a soft chuckle from him.
But now that adrenaline didn’t cloud his eyes, she could see that her rejection took a toll on him.
-I didn’t harm you before, and I won’t harm you now- he repeated, watching her as an annoying and never-learning child.
-Oh yeah… your bites were the softest thing my skin has ever experienced- she screeched back, feeling the place on her thigh, where he had bitten her, immediately become sore and aching, a bruise blooming on it, meanwhile his neck was extremely stiff.
And through it all, she felt tired.
But she was keeping on utter anger.
-… I didn’t think you minded the pain, little angel, when you were coming around  me, with those delicious mewls- he retorted back and she was the closest to punch him, but also his face looked so sad and destroyed, definitely tired that she…
… she somehow wanted to hug him, bring him closer…
… maybe closer between her thighs and push him…
-I really hope that you didn’t continue fucking me like an animal, after I passed out- she just mumbled, getting a little smirk from him who immediately raise from his place on the armchair to come closer and although she shrank out of fear, something in her told to lean closer, follow him -… and I hope it wasn’t some stranger who put me into this thing-.
The tiny slip of silk looked, now that she had just taken a good look at it, pretty expensive and not of her time, clearly a bit old style but she enjoyed the way it flowed around her, and she knew he felt the same about it, by the way he looked at her.
But it seemed there was much more: it was… as if she could sense it…
-I personally cleaned you, after you passed out; I took too much… I am sorry- he seemed sincere, and as soon as he was close to her, he gently pushed a kiss on the side of her legs, electricity being pushed in her entire body -… but… you taste so good-.
She couldn’t help but piece up all those pieces together to one single conclusion, the one she knew, but scared her:
-You are a vampire…- although she said it, she didn’t sound even in the slightest confident in her solution, knowing how crazy it sounded.
-… do you want me to start sparkling? – he smirked, confirming her words, meanwhile she just glared at him, seriously trying to free herself from the rope’s hold.
-Please don’t joke on this! – she choked on her own words -… this is all so scary! And new! -.
-Would you prefer an explanation? – although he was teasing her, there was some truth behind his affirmation, and she could see in his eyes the wanting and willingness to share his burden with someone else.
-That would be nice- she pressed her lips together to assume an even more serious tone -… I have been nothing but manhandled this entire night, so some explanations are much needed-.
-Well I am indeed a vampire, I have to confirm your hypothesis- he assured her as if it might bring her some comfort -… we are real, but we don’t hurt people… usually…-.
-Oh yeah, tell that to my thighs-.
As if to apologize he gently caressed her bruise, but she could see he was somehow proud of having left a mark on her.
“What an egotistical bastard” she found herself thinking, with a light smile.
-… we don’t feed straight up form humans, usually… blood bags are preferable, but the person who brought me my blood bags is actually dead… so… I don’t have that option anymore- he looked truly sad at that mention, but tried not to let it show too much on his face -… usually vampires have mates; mates can be romantical partners, but usually it’s just a blood thing; any other vampire’s blood might kill another vampire, unless they are your mates, bringing nourishment-.
He could see that she had been shocked by it, no matter the fact that she tried to hide it.
-I know that it might not be… believable… but… I felt that I owed you an explanation-.
It could all be a crazy idea of a crazy man, but she somehow trusted him, even after he had taken her blood without her permission.
-It is crazy, but somehow… believable- she honestly would have accepted anything those angelic lips might have delivered -… so will I be kept there as your blood bag? -.
She was a bit scared about the prospect, but her assaulter seemed interesting and if she would be getting a mind-blowing orgasm, each time.
-… no, tomorrow you will go back home, with no memory of it- he replied, again his face becoming sadder, as if during that night he had grown fond of her.
-And what will you do? – she asked, not really out of curiosity, but a strange jealousy brewing in her chest -… kidnap another girl? -.
-Are you jealous, little angel? – he immediately caught up her annoyance, and she rolled her eyes, to hide her embarrassment -… because I don’t think that I would want another other than you after tonight-.
-Then… how? – she honestly didn’t see many options and didn’t understand why he couldn’t be a bit selfish and just use her.
Had she honestly thought that?
-Blood bags- he mumbled out, and she understood that clearly they didn’t satisfy him enough -… this was mostly to show the new people I am with that I was able to use my fangs still, they see the usage of blood bags as… -.
-… you being weak? – she honestly couldn’t believe that he could be mistaken for weak or anything else in that department with his slim but strong arms and thick thighs.
-Kind of… and don’t tell anybody…- he leaned down to whisper with conspiration in her ear -… but I am supposed to be the boss here-.
-You certainly know how make a girl feel special- her nose slightly brushed against his.
-… I thought the first orgasm was enough for that- he made her blush and she honestly couldn’t help but feel like she might have enjoyed this entire atmosphere, had she not thought about the fact that he was a vampire…
And he immediately pushed himself on the bed, again between her thigh, a place he liked enough, and she couldn’t help but feel like he might just belong there.
-… I can give you some more convincing, favorite angel of mine- he mumbled meanwhile he raised her slip -… just one last kiss and then I will tell you goodbye-.
She woke up the following day in a hospital bed: no memory of the previous night, if not a few sparks of that bloody night being shot under her pupils, soft bites on her skin and soft words, including the imaginary whisper of “angel”.
So, when she woke up, nothing made her feel nervous or anything, unlike her friends, sitting on those uncomfortable hospital chair next to her bed, immediately getting up with her and immediately they breathed for the first time, during that long night.
They later explained to her that last night she had gone missing; they had felt bad for letting her go alone and expected to find her at the station, but not only she wasn’t there but she wasn’t also picking up her phone, and this had gotten them worried enough to immediately search for her in each place of the small center, before moving to the nearest police station.
They had found her later in the morning, passed out, her arms and legs a bit scratched by what looked like rope or chains, burning soft marks in her skin, but nothing broken.
She just wasn’t waking up.
“We were so damnably worried, (Y/N)!” had almost screamed Layla, meanwhile she had cried.
“,,,where have you been for the entire time?! What happened?!” Kathryn, her other friend, backed her up, but she was unable to answer in any way, knowing only that she hadn’t been hurt, something was instilled in her brain about her having been safe the entire night.
Her friends had insisted that she did a rape test, mostly because of the bruise on her thigh, which couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, but she had wanted to avoid the entire thing, since it seemed like she had nottrauma and she felt a little voice in her mind telling her not to look into it too much.
So, she tried to forget, although in dreams she sometimes heard loud gasping and something piercing her skin meanwhile she was roughly hoed down, something pushing in and out of her, bringing pleasure, meanwhile she breached the highest of ecstasy, waking up with arousal between her thighs.
She honestly felt curious about all those ideas, but every time she tried to look into those memories she started panicking hard, her brain stopped working and she just started feeling bad, enough that she stopped working on it, focusing on moving on with her life.
But she just couldn’t help but feel like something was lurking in the shadows, waiting just for her, preying on her.
And she wasn’t wrong…
Michael Langdon had said he would have let her go, but he hadn’t mean it.
He had never meant it, since he had first tasted her blood.
But he hadn’t been able to keep her when she had so many links in the human world; she wouldn’t forgive him, no matter her begging of staying with her, after he had told her he would make her forget about it all.
“If you knew about us, you might be a hazard to my community” he had explained, softly watching her bright eyes become dull with pain, meanwhile endless tears spilled from them.
He knew that exhaustion and the blood bound between them brought those emotions out of her, intensifying anything she felt and making her feel more and more attached to him, which made him seem a true bastard, since he had taken advantage of that drunken stupor.
He had longed for her, the moment after Madeline had taken her back where she had found her, after he had gently cleaned up each inch of her skin, to make sure nothing of his would be staying on her skin, although the police would without a doubt not find his fingerprints.
And he still longed for her, but there was no use into crying on spilled milk and slowly he had started elaborating a plan on how to get her back.
Because, although for the moment she belonged to the human world, she wouldn’t be there for much more time, had the revelations he had found about her been true.
He had felt in her blood something different from human blood, swiftly realizing that she was a bit like him, and that was why her blood sang to him: she was his mate.
She was a half-blood, she had a clear vampire genealogy in her blood, and swiftly he had made sure to discover more about it, till he was sure that that vampire blood in her veins might be enough to make her turn, had she wanted it.
And he was waiting for just the right time to claim his rightful mate, slowly spying on her and checking that no harm came to here, spying her meanwhile she turned in her bed, her fingers between her legs, trying to satiate the arousal between them.
But he knew already that she never would…his own hand didn’t help him in the slightest.
He had just to have faith in the plan.
After he had lost Mrs Mead he had thought that he would be forever alone…
… but destiny had brought them together, destiny had given him a mate.
And now he was preying on her.
---
I really hope that you liked it and in the future, there might be more chapters of this, since me and Michael aren’t done with reader...
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