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kaijurakunsobs · 3 years ago

Note

If requests are open could you do a Heisenberg fic with a teen or young adult reader(no older than 20 please) who stumbles into the village trying to get away from their parents and after they get attacked by Lycans Heisenberg patches them up and takes them in trying to hide them from his sister and mother miranda. Could you please do it with an AFAB reader who doesn’t identify as female? I am currently dealing with borderline verbal abuse from my conservative father who doesnt like that though I am AFAB I don’t identify as female.

first, baby, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I know how bad and mentally taxing that kind of living situation can get, I was in a similar situation and somehow managed to pull through.

you are not alone, you are loved and I hope everything gets better, never forget that it's you who defines yourself, your self worth should NEVER be defined by others

All you can think is...how cold everything is around you, how the freezing air burns your skin and lungs, but, you have endured something worst, physical pain can be healed with time, emotional and psychological pain is what hurts the most, what feels eternal and haunting, it coils around you, it grows and never let's go, like being branded, it leaves marks that never go away.

Running aimlessly through the snow feels like nothing.

What made you get out of the car?

Was it anger?

Desperation?

Does that even matter anymore?

You can't hear their voices anymore, so that's a win.

Farther away you see smoke and fain lights, distant sounds beckoning you closer to that place, and you let yourself smile widely when the silhouette of someone standing so close to you, you could get help, start somewhere new, be happy!

But it's so short-lived, that you question if there's divine retribution, karma, or just the universe laughing in your face.

Your "savior" is covered in blood, a man with a perpetual expression of agony lays in the snow, dead. The monster turns to you and finally the cold freezes you where you stand, it's not alone, and all the other creatures are looking at you, dark soulless eyes fixated on their new prey.

You have felt like that before under his gaze like if you were vermin, it made you furious how you were treated and consider as something lesser than a person. These things look at you the same like you are just a speck of dust in their path, and maybe you are, if the mangled body is any indication that taking a life will be nothing for them.

You see it from the corner of your eye, one of them lunges for you, and then? everything is a blur.

You remember kicking and punching wildly, adrenaline making you forget about the pain of the bites and scratches, there are memories of you running and using something to smash the head of one of the monsters, a rock, perhaps? But in the end, cold, blood loss, and exhaustion are enough to bring you to your knees. One of them grabs a fistful of hair and roars in your face and you know, that, this is it, you fought and did your best, but this is the end of your travesty...so much for your new life of freedom.

"Get the fuck away...I SAID FUCK OFF!" his voice is so loud that it makes you whimper and recoil "LET GO, CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? LET GO, DAMN IT!" the smell of blood and a warm liquid hits you hard, but at least you are free, letting your body hit the snow

"What do we have here?...this one is alive, but ya ain't from around here, do you?" he's smoking and something small and silly wants you to tell him that smoking is bad, which makes you smile so softly "...Interesting"

Heisenberg rarely gets intrigued by anything, he hasn't found anything to spark his curiosity in so long, so of course, he had to come and see what was causing such a commotion. What he thought to be a villager, fist fighting the lycans so valiantly, turned out to be a teenager, he saw you from afar, furiously kicking lycan after lycan, you didn't even notice the growing red spots in your clothes and the black eye, it was survival and feral like behavior. Truly interesting.

Now, what made him pick you up with care? years from today he will say it was just "Scientific interest kiddo! nothing more", but, it's the pain in your face that makes him act so soft, it's not the agony brought by your wounds, this goes deeper, it's different and he knows it very well.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken you to Moreau, but he knows the loud mouth will give you to that bitch Miranda and that will be it for you. Dimitrescu is OUT of the equation, so does Beneviento, hell knows what her psychotic ass would do to you. So he brings you back to his home and takes time to clean your wounds, true, his stitching abilities are amazing...on corpses, and a lack of anesthesia and your occasional movements makes it hard for him to stitch you properly, but by the end of everything, you are bandaged and clean, isn't that the important part?

He’s done his part, the rest is on you. If you had the strength to fight and even kill a lycan, you might live to see another day

How long were you out?

You are warm and so fucking sore, cracking your eyes open is a big task and even harder to sit up in the bed you are laying on. The room is black and smells like tobacco, oil, and something you can’t place but it’s nice.

Barefoot and curious you start to get up, wincing deep and loud when pain floods your body, but you get up non-less, you feel the cold air hit your legs, and immediately pull down the shirt to cover yourself. Then it fully clicks, the jagged memories of what happened slaps you in the face and make you lose your footing, falling back on the bed you pry the shirt off from your body, you see bandages and patches placed on smaller wounds, your head is killing you and your right eye hurts like crazy.

With small breathes you pull the shirt back on and force your body to get up and investigate the room. There are piles of clothes and pieces of paper everywhere, picking one of the pants you sigh, these are yours, but they have been destroyed either by the beasts or by however brought you here. Looking around there’s nothing more, time to go out.

The only door leads you to an open room, the kitchen and living room placed together, in one of the sofas you can see someone laying down, their chest rising and falling softly, their face obscured by an old hat.

You try to be as quiet and sneaky as possible when getting back into the room “Where do you think you are going, kid?” his voice is thick with sleep but the sound is enough to make you yelp, slamming your shoulder against the door frame, the man jumps up and in a couple of strides he’s beside you “Can you more fucking careful? the stitches gonna get open and if you get an infection I ain’t risking my neck to get you meds”

He’s a bit taller than you with squared and wide shoulders, his face is stern and it seems like he’s annoyed about something, is it you? Did you anger him? You try to remember what could you have done to make him so mad but nothing comes to you, is not like you remember much, and what you do, is better to be left forgotten.

Heisenberg has seen many people look at him with fear, reverence even, but he has never been in the receiving end of a look like yours, he has to close his eyes for a second, carefully grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the kitchen, almost forcing you to take a seat in on of the wobbly chairs he owns.

“Well now that you are back with us, I can finally cook something to eat. You must be starving! I would too after the way you fought back there” he lets out a howl while he busies himself with pulling ingredients for whatever he’s cooking “I saw ya, you know? That was one hell of a show and I know about putting up good entertainment, you gave those lycans a good beating”

Lycans? So those things have names...uuuh, who would have thought.

"What's your name kid?" you get pulled out of your mind by his voice and the smell of cooking eggs, for a moment you wonder and think, that this is the time to be addressed by YOUR name "...I'm Y/N, sir"

"Cut the sir bullshit, you ain't trying to impress nobody here, you can call me Heisenberg, Karl if you wanna get my attention quickly, got it?"

"Yes...Heisenberg?"

He's rather harsh from what little you have seen of him, but he's careful when serving you breakfast, a steady hand serves you tea and makes quick work of a loaf of bread, whit that you two eat in relative silence, he eats like a wolf and that's enough to make you hide a smile.

"Once you are...better..." he's speaking between bites, eew "I'm taking you to get some new clothes, staying here ain't gonna be free, ok?" with his fork pointing at you he waits and continues without you answering "I'll have to teach you...that's gonna take time..."

"I'm a faster learner!"

Heisenberg laughs at the offended tone in your voice, taking a big gulp from his mug once he stops "I like ya kid, there's a fire in you and I respect that, we gonna get along"

It takes you almost 2 weeks to fully recover and be able to move without crying out in pain. On the day he announces that he must take off your stitches, he's kind when pulling on the thread, talking about how that same day he's taking you to the seamstress cuz he's "done" having you wear his stuff.

The seamstress in the Village seems flabbergasted when "Lord Heisenberg" comes into her house, demanding she makes you good sturdy pants and easy to move in shirts. From that sole visit is enough for people to call you "Heisenberg's assistant" whenever you are sent to the village or just went spotted by anyone. The Duke, the merchant that sometimes you have found yourself talking to, does nothing but fuel the rumor, people already fear Heisenberg on a god day, now they fear you might be spying for him.

You would be lying by saying that, Heisenberg is a normal man, he's flamboyant and loud, filled with pride, and what you can describe as...showmanship, he speaks with passion when explaining to you the ins and outs of the factory. He's always close, never breathing down your neck, just close enough to hear if you need help.

The first time you see him use his gift is the most embarrassing and awkward moment of your life.

You are working on some molds for pieces he needs to make from scratch, he taught you where you should work on that, away from whatever lurks in the lower areas of the factory. You were so engrossed in getting the mold out perfectly, tongue sticking out and heavy gloves helping you to pry open the damn thing open, you don't even jump when a hand lands on your shoulder, but you do when the ghoulish face of a corpse appears beside you.

He's running the second he hears you, a high pitched sound tearing through the noise of the machinery, he sees you bolting it towards him and a Zwei Soldat quickly catching up with you, the drill in its arm too close to your back, the moment you are close enough he pulls you towards and behind him, a metal sheet flying to the thing and beheading it in an instant.

"Kid...Kid, look at me, hey, eyes on me" you are not crying, there's no blood anywhere and nothing seems to be missing, you seem more startled than anything else, but you listen to him, concentrated on him and his voice "Y/N, it's ok kid, I'm here"

Then it happens, you let it slip. "Thanks...thanks dad"

You feel him go tense, the hands-on your shoulders shake for a second and embarrassment comes crashing down on you, you are ready for him to yell or push you away and order you to see if the mold is still useful, but he pulls you close, patting your back like you never said anything.

There are days when you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice growing irritated, and his explosive temper getting worst.

You are curled up in the crawlspace that he turned into your room, listening to him talking with someone, he sounds exasperated and nervous. This time he takes longer to come out from his room, a new cigar in his mouth and hammer over his shoulder, usually, he would tell you that he's leaving for a couple of hours, this time he's just there, tapping his foot and sparing quick glances at you.

"Get your coat, we need to leave"

That's new...he never takes you with him to wherever he goes, but you don't feel like arguing and do as he says, slipping your boots on and grabbing your coat.

Heisenberg is unusually quiet this time, only the snow crunching under your feet make enough sound to fill in the void, he takes you farther from the village and into a rundown church, you can hear new voices and the unforgettable sounds of the lycans snarling.

Inside the candlelight is soft and cast strange shadows of the people already waiting inside. There's a woman in a white dress that probably towers over you, another lady dressed in black and her covered, she sits in a corner with a creepy doll on her lap, and finally, a shy man who battles to cover himself with the torn cloth of his jacket.

"Is this why mother Miranda called us? Did you brought a new toy and never informed her? what a bad dog you are Heisenberg"

"Non of your business, Dimitrescu" Karl does everything to keep you behind him, away from the doll or the twisted man, but especially from the woman, Dimitrescu as he called her.

From where you stood, you could see how beautiful and regal she is, sitting with grace and a sarcastic smile plastered on her face. Noticing you, she moved slightly to get a better look, narrowing her eyes, making you feel small and like food. Before she can't even speak the sound of feathers caught your attention, giving Karl enough time to guide you to one of the pews, making you take a seat beside him.

The four adults greeted the new woman, the infamous mother Miranda, you have heard about her in the village and through small stories shared by the Duke, but mostly, you have heard Heisenberg curse the woman and call her every single name under the sun.

"Usually I wouldn't care for what my children do in their dominions, but, Karl, I must say I'm disappointed in you...to hide this child and avoid telling us?"

"I apologize, Miranda, the right opportunity never came" ooooh he's pissed

"I say you take his toy, Mother Miranda, and if possible, give me that lovely lady to me?" at that your gut twist uncomfortably, it's been some time since you were...addressed like that

"Excuse me?" Heisenberg cocks his head to the side, looking at Dimitrescu over his shades "Are you talking about my SON?"

"YOUR SON?! Don't make laugh, child, I can smell the sweet maiden blood running through her veins, that's a lady not one of your dirty lycans"

"And you are bitch no matter how well you dress!"

"ENOUGH!" Miranda's voice breaks them apart, everyone looking at her "Care to elaborate, Heisenberg?"

Karl takes a second to take a drag from his cigar and blow a cloud of some into the air "I found Y/N here, they fought hard to survive and I took them in, just like Alcina, and her lovely daughters...I decided it was my time to have a child of my own"

"That doesn't change the fact that you brought an outsider and didn't inform mother, and now you are trying to do what exactly? have...them...play house with you?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, that's enough" she's looking at you, mother Miranda in staring, and Heisenberg as a hand on your back, suddenly you are hyper-aware of everything, the sounds and smells, the movements each person in the room does, the way the candles flicker "I allow it, may this never happen again, Heisenberg. Next time there will be consequences"

You feel like passing out after that, the screams of Dimitrescu and the doll get drown by the ringing in your ears, everything keeping you together is Heisenberg's hand on yours cursing up a storm as he pulls you along with him.

The cold air feeling nice against your burning skin.

"Kid? I think you are ready" you are halfway through the trek back to the factory when he speaks again

"Ready for what?"

"To be introduced to the Heisenberg family true work, of course! What kind of father I would be if I don't involve you in our family's business"

You trip with your feet hearing him say that, so...he meant it? what he said in the church...that you are his son?

"Come on Y/N, I won't go easy on you because you are my kid now, quick quick"

Catching up to him is easy and you feel at peace when one of his arms wraps around you, he begins to talk about how many things he's gonna teach you and how exciting is to have a young mind to shape.

For the first time, you are eager to get back home.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #x reader #heisendad #resident evil 8 #re8 #answer stuff #request stuff #reader is a teen #trans reader

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smutsonian · 4 years ago

Text

the mobster’s little girl

pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader

summary: what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

warnings: smut, violence, death, obsessive behavior kind of, poorly written smut (for real i skipped some), innocent reader (kind of?), lil bit of angst, drowning, accidents in the kitchen, reader getting burned, not proofread, a lot of mistakes for sure (It’s a long fic and im too lazy to find the mistakes), loss of virginity skskks, oral deed (f & m), fingering skksks, kind of a handie, please let me know if i skipped some, please read at your own risk, rumlow is a warning periodt, this has crack vibes i swear idk what i was typing at some point, ddlg? (is this ddlg? jesus fuck idek anymore), dub-con but like not really?, the POV gets fucked up towards the end so goodluck with understanding this piece of sheeet

word count: 11k (what da actual fuck? this is loooong)

a/n: df am i being awkward while writing them warnings for? Holy shit that’s a long list of warnings

big thanks to @buckys-forgotten-plum�� for helping me edit <3 luv u mwah

this is a combined request of a mob!steve x innocent!reader + steve teaching reader to suck his ding-a-ding-dong

this has a sucky ending. i hate the fucking ending.

also, i don’t got no clue on how to do spacing on tumblr so im terribly sorry for that.

masterlist

Maybe it’s because they were terrified. Maybe it’s because they know what’s out there and what evil lurks in every corner of the city. Whatever the reason is, her parents hid her from the outside world. Never was she able to step another foot out of the gates of her home. No matter how huge the mansion her parents keep her in, it still feels small and lonely. Instead of the friends that she should’ve made in kindergarten, she became friends with her parents’ employees. Instead of the high school friends that she was supposed to have, she has the few cleaners in the house. She didn’t feel like they work for her because they’ve become her friends that keep her sane for being in one place for her whole life. Being able to go somewhere that’s not the garden, the gazebo, or even the lake that became her favorite place has always been in her mind but never her heart never really demanded to go out. She gets curious at times but it’s not enough to make her go against her parents’ number one rule.

“Never let yourself be known and never talk to anyone outside this house. If possible, keep yourself away from the entrance gates.”

Being the obedient daughter you are, you followed that rule without question. You became the daughter that your parents wanted you to be. You learned everything from your tutor. The basics of economics but mostly proper etiquette. You didn’t know why you had to learn those but you did what your parents wanted you to do without question. You always do…

That’s why when your parents told you that you were to marry, you agreed with a little bit of hesitance. “It’s for the best, princess.” Is the only thing that your father said while your mom looked at you with a small smile. You thought that it was going to be like the ones in the movies. You imagined a magical wedding but you didn’t even have one. You were told to sign some papers and just like that, you’re married to some man you don’t even know. A man that you didn’t see until a few days after the signing of papers.

Steve never felt so disrespected in his entire life. He’s so used to being the powerful man of the city, the country even, that never did he expect some feeble man to come barreling into his business. The Y/L/Ns… He knew of them but he knew little about them. The family is so secretive but are known to be powerful. Nobody knows how they do it but now he has been graced to learn how.

Blackmail… Along with bribery. How fucking pathetic.

He didn’t know how the man managed to acquire his plans for a rival gang but somehow, the fucker did. The rival gang that he was trying to take down for so long and managed to make a plan of action until this fucker messed everything up. The bastard wanted to marry his daughter off to him for a powerful alliance. Saying something about how both of their names would benefit from the marriage. The bastard also promised a fat amount of money that he’ll receive once he marries his daughter. The bastard knew that money has always been a problem for him by the smug look on his face.

“It’s simple. You provide us security, we give you money. We seal the deal once you sign the papers to be my daughter’s husband.” The old fucker says with such pride in his voice. Steve gritted his teeth before making a move to toss the man out but the fucker clicks his tongue at him. “Ahh, we also wouldn’t want Rumlow to know about your plans on attacking his turf a fortnight from now, do we?” The old fuck stares at him as he waits for his answer.

Having no other choice, Steve says yes with flared nostrils. He glares at the way the man smiles giddily while walking towards the door. Before the old man could leave, he turned back towards Steve with a serious look before pointing a finger at him. “One more thing… My daughter will be your wife but you are not to touch her. You live at the mansion with her but you ain’t allowed to touch her. Do get out of her way as much as you can. You get all the money you want by following my orders. That easy. Nice dealing with you.” The man was out the door in an instant as Steve glared at the closed door before picking up a wine glass from his desk and throwing it against the door.

“It’s a bit weird, mother.” Is your reply when your mother came to visit you in your room and asked you about how you’re feeling given your situation. She continues to brush your hair with her fingers as she hums in response.

“It’s not like the ones in movies, that’s for sure.” You joke, earning a chuckle from your mother.

“My situation… It’s not really normal, correct?” You pull away from your mother’s hands and turn to look at her. She lets out a sigh before turning you back around and resuming to play with your hair. “No…” She says. “We might have been a bit strict with you but we only did it for your safety. The world out there… It’s not safe.” She continues. Once again, you pull away from your mother to fully give your attention to her. “But you and father are always out there. You put yourselves in danger on the daily so why can’t I?” You look at your mother who was looking at you with an unamused expression. You let out a sigh before sighing. “I know... I know. It sounds a bit silly to ask myself to be put in danger… But what about marrying me off to some stranger! You told me that father is bringing him here after he signed the papers. He’s to live here with all of us. Mother, we don’t even know him. Why would you let a stranger into our home?” You reason out, making exaggerated hand gestures to back yourself up. When your mother makes no effort to respond to you, you retort with a scoff and an eye roll.

“You’re so hell-bent on keeping me inside this place, claiming that it’s to protect me that you failed to realize that you’re putting all of us in danger by letting an unknown man live with us. Seems kind of idiotic to me.”

*SLAP*

You look at your mother with wide eyes as you hold your left cheek as it is stinging in pain. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was disrespectful of me. I’m sorry.” You scrambled to get away from your mother, ignoring her calls as you left your room to run down the long hallway and down the flight of circular stairs. You went out of the mansion and started running down a pathway towards the lake. You were so upset and focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t see a strange man coming out of a black SUV just as you walked out of the mansion.

You ran down the wooden dock, frowning at what you had said to your mother. You couldn’t believe how you acted just now. First, you disrespect your mother. Now, you hide yourself away like a child that got reproved for the first time. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, an action that you got from your father, as you paced around the wooden dock. “Of course, they were just trying to protect you, you stupid idiot.” You hit your forehead with your palms over and over before tilting your head backward to stare at the sky, not caring at how your eyes hurt at the blinding sun.

You closed your eyes after a few seconds, sighing out as you figured that you should probably go back. Your so-called husband was supposed to arrive today. You start to walk back when your foot slipped and suddenly, water enveloped your body.

You fell into the lake.

You would think that being locked up in a big mansion would give you a lot of time to learn how to swim but with your luck, no one ever thought you how so now you couldn’t do anything but drown.

Your arms flopped around you as you kicked your legs all over the place just to get some air down your lungs but you only found yourself sinking further down. You couldn’t even scream for help because you know that if you did, you would only be swallowing a whole lot of water.

Before you could lose your breath entirely, something grasped your flailing hand. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t pulled out of the water. Turned out, it was a hand. Not some kind of creature from the fantasy movies you’ve watched.

You were sitting on the wooden dock, gasping for air when the sound of an annoyed huff caught your attention. You tilt your head up to see a man looking down at you with an annoyed expression. Your brain started clicking and then it hit you. He must be your husband.

“You’re here early.” You whisper, looking down. You weren’t sure how to act around him. Around your husband. You would base it on the movies you’ve watched but so far, those movies were nothing like your life. You were sure that if you tried to act like one of the characters there, you would look like a complete buffoon.

“So glad to know that I’m married to a dumbass.” He cuts your thoughts off with a sneer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and drown like that.” You remember the lessons you had. About not engaging in someone else’s hostility. You looked down in embarrassment. You’ve never been called something vile like that so you must’ve made him really upset. He scoffs before shaking his head and leaving you on the wooden floor as he walks away.

After that encounter with your so-called husband, you never really saw him again, even though the two of you were living in the same house. It was a few weeks after the drowning incident and you made sure to not tell anyone about it and you only hoped that Steve (you had to learn his name from your mother) didn’t tell anyone about it either. You and your mother are in good terms again and she’s currently in your room again, telling you how she and your father are to spend a few months in Prague to deal with a few business hiccups. You didn’t bother to ask if you could come with but you did bother to complain about them leaving. “You’re leaving me alone with a stranger under the same roof as me?” You exaggeratedly widened your eyes at your mother. “Oh, stop it. I’ve gotten to know Steve myself. I’m sure you’ll be safe with him. He seems like a nice guy. Although, I think your father gets a little bit on his nerves.” Your mother giggles to herself and you look at her with an amused grin. “You’re closer to my husband than I am with him.” You joked which earned a sympathetic look from your mother.

“Talk to him. He’s your husband after all.” She caresses your face. You hold her wrist as you push your cheeks towards her hold. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, mother. I have a feeling that he’s scrupulously avoiding me.”

“How about you bake him something, hmm? You’re wonderful at baking!” Your mother grins at your excited reaction to the mention of baking.

“I do love to bake…” You hummed in thought before giving your mother a faux pointed look. “Alright, I will bake but only because I love to bake. So if he doesn’t want to socialize with me, then so be it. I wouldn’t care.” You huff proudly as your mother looked at you with a grin and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.

“What is it?” You ask her.

“Why do I get the feeling that you want to impress Steve?” She chuckles at your stunned expression.

“You have completely lost your mind, mother. Haven’t you got a plane to catch? Go on. Say hello to Prague for me!” You push her out of your room, her laughing at your antics before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaving you to yourself.

“Ooof!” You hissed as your finger touched the hot tray when you were pulling it out of the oven. You were making the third batch of cookies and somehow, you managed to burn your finger now. You quickly pulled the mittens off before putting the hot finger into your lips, as if sucking the pain away is possible.

You heard footsteps coming over and when you turned your head, you saw Steve looking at you with something you couldn’t comprehend. “H-hey.” You pulled your finger out of your mouth before hiding it behind your back like a kid. You tiptoed over the counter to reach the plate of cookies before walking over to him. “I made cookies. Would you… like to try some?” You moved the plate closer to his face but he only scowled at you before taking your right wrist and surveying your hand. He found the finger you were sucking on earlier and muttered something under his breath. You thought you heard him say ‘dumbass’ again like the last time.

“Put cream on it.” He grumbled before leaving the kitchen. You glared at his back until he turned back around, making you wipe the glare out of your face before smiling bitterly at him. He walked towards you with a dark look until he was inches away from you. The position you two are currently in made you realize how tall he is. How he’s towering over you and how his biceps are poking out of his shirt. His crystal blue eyes are staring deep into your soul and you were almost hypnotized by it. You gulped in nervousness. You remember all the things you told your mother about this certain stranger that could possibly be a danger to you until he smirked and took the plate of cookies from the table before walking out once more, leaving you gaping at the door in confusion as your heart was beating faster than normal. From fear or something else, you do not know.

----

Steve was deep in thought as he chewed on the cookies she made. It was really delicious and he hated that he liked it. He did his best to avoid the girl. He’s trying his best to avoid the girl. He did his best to hate the girl so things would be easier for him. He’s trying his best to hate the girl. He didn’t have time to babysit her. Her father is not someone he wanted to have ties with but he is. Steve didn’t want anything that has to do with that man and that includes her.

But why is it so hard for him to keep her out of his mind?

The first time he saw her, she had that cute little frown on her face but he found his heart skipping a beat at the sadness in her eyes. He knew he would regret following her but then he didn’t. He saw her as she fell down the dock and he didn’t know why he felt like his world stopped when he saw her gasping for air but it did. It took him his best efforts not to just dive into the lake to save her. Instead, he took her flailing hands and easily pulled her out of the waters. He wanted to keep her warm when he saw her shivering on the wooden floor but he suddenly remembered the deal. His worry was quickly converted into anger and annoyance so he managed to leave her alone, something heavy in his chest as he walked away from her.

He hated the way she made him feel so he avoided her like a plague. Their home was big and avoiding her was really easy. It was stopping himself from going near her is the hard part. Her mother is the total opposite of her father. Her mother is a nice woman and living with the Y/L/Ns didn’t feel like a job other than her horrid father. Steve got to learn more about her through her mother. She talked about her so dearly. Steve felt his heart fall at the mention of her not leaving the mansion. It sounded like she was an animal caged in better surroundings. Steve realized why she acted so differently when he’s watching her. She seemed so… innocent.

Then he caught her baking cookies. It took him his best not to run towards her when he heard her hiss in pain. He watched as she tried to hide her injury from him. He didn’t know if he found it cute or annoying because she shouldn’t hide injuries from him. From anyone. If she was injured, she should get it to check as soon as possible. Then she offered him cookies. Steve swore that his heart leaped in adoration but he took the offered plate in front of him as a chance to check on her hand. He observed her fingers, internally flinching as he saw the burnt area on her index finger. “Such a clumsy little girl…” He muttered under his breath. Steve caught himself though. Why was he so worried about her? He quickly composed himself and dropped her hand. Before turning to leave. He heard her huff and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. He turned around to see her frowning at him only to have her eyes widened in surprise. She gave him a stubborn smile as he walked over to her, teasing her and testing her to see where her cuteness could go. Where her STUBBORNNESS could go. Did he really just say cute?

When he thought she had had enough, he smirked and took the plate of cookies before leaving.

The plate of cookies that he’s currently munching on.

The more Steve thinks about it, the more he’s realizing that he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. It was impossible.

The more he sees her, the more he wants to be with her. The more he sees her, the more he wants to protect her because it seems like she has a way of putting herself in danger.

So innocent.

So pure.

He wanted her and he didn’t know if he could control himself anymore.

A week has passed and things with your husband seemed to have gotten better, if one is optimistically speaking.

He no longer avoided you so that’s better than before. He doesn’t acknowledge you much though. He only speaks to you to correct your every move. Called you out when you were walking barefoot around the mansion, mocked you when you walked around the docks, and even demanded you to leave the kitchens alone because according to him, you don’t know how to properly use it.

He only ever opened his mouth to speak his mind of his distaste towards you and you were starting to miss the times when he completely avoided you.

But you ignored the insults and kept your head high up. You aren’t going to sulk. Especially not when someone’s clearly made it his goal to make you feel just that.

That’s why you’re currently making pasta. Ignoring his demand and continuing on having adventures in the kitchen. You just finished making the sauce so now you just have to cook the pasta. You took a pot that was way bigger than your head and proceeded to fill it with water from the sink.

You struggled to carry it over to the stove, letting out a relieved sigh once you managed to set it down. The problem though, the bottom of the pot somehow got stuck on the burner plate. You clicked your tongue in annoyance before grunting and attempting to pull on the heavy pot. It remained stuck so you exerted more effort, succeeding but managing to tilt the pot towards yourself. You let out a yelp as the cold water inside the pot spills all over you.

“Y/N!”

You felt his hands before you heard his voice.

——

Steve heard clanking noises from the kitchen and he just had to roll his eyes at the thought of her prancing around the kitchen. Didn’t he tell her to leave the kitchen alone? He’s just trying to stray her from the harm she could put herself in. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

He walked into the kitchen, just in time to see water spill over her from the boiling pot. His blood went cold as he felt his heart stopping. “Y/N!” He rushed over her knelt body, covered in water. He cautiously touched her face, being careful not to hurt her possibly burnt skin. Why can’t she just listen to him? He told her not to work in the kitchen for a reason.

As he touched her seemingly cold cheeks, he watched as she looked up at him with an innocent confused look. “Steve?” Her voice was so meek yet it made his ear start to ring as his heart started to beat back to life. She must’ve seen his frantic expression because her eyes widened in realization before she’s shaking her head and pointing at the fallen pot. “I haven’t boiled the water yet! See? I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.” She had the audacity to smile cheekily at him and he didn’t know if he should be leaping in joy with her or reprimanding her for being so careless.

Steve clicked his tongue at her, something that he must’ve picked up from her, before leaving the kitchen with a huff. Something that he’s been doing a lot whenever he’s with her.

——

After he left, you took a seat on one of the chairs, recalling what just happened a few moments ago. He thought you were stupid enough to pour boiling water all over yourself. Does he really think you’re that stupid? He looked so worried though. You smiled at the thought of him possibly caring about you.

You let out a short squeak when you felt something falling at the top of your head. A towel. Steve wrapped it around you until your head was the only part exposed. “Whatcha grinning on about, little girl?” His voice was stern but there was a teasing tone in it. You looked up at him as he watched you. You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows when he bought the pot towards the sink, filling it with water.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is small as you asked him.

“Can’t trust you with this. You might boil yourself the next time you even try.” He clicked his tongue before effortlessly bringing the pot to the stove and lighting it up. After that he walked back towards you and sat at the chair beside you, turning himself to stare back at you.

“I thought I made it clear when I told you not to work in the kitchens?” He mockingly tilted his head before raising one eyebrow at you. You stared back at him, not knowing what to say so you just tilted your head down like a chided kid.

“Uh uh uh…” You felt his long fingers under your chin as he tilted your head back to face him. “What’s the matter? Did you manage to burn your tongue as well? Hmm?” You didn’t know why but the way he was talking to you is making you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach.

When you didn’t answer, he put the hand that was on your chin to the side of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered when he managed to poke his thumb into your mouth and pressed it down your tongue gently.

“Seems pretty alright for me…” He mumbles. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise when you sucked on his thumb absentmindedly. You realized what you were doing and stopped immediately. “No. No, don’t stop. Do it again.” He watched you with bright eyes as you hesitantly sucked on his thumb once more, feeling your body warming up at the current situation.

He slowly pulls his thumb out before rubbing it around your lips and leaning his face closer to yours. You could feel your heart panicking in fright or in excitement, you weren’t sure. You saw him close his eyes before he let out a sigh. He pulls away from you then ruffles the towel on your head. “Why don’t you go ahead and put dry clothes on? I think the pasta’s ready.” He grins before walking back toward the stove to start preparing the meal.

You stumbled to your feet, mindlessly walking towards your room with a clouded mind.

What was that all about?

All Steve could ever think about was her. Her beautiful lips. Her eyes that glisten with innocence. Her nose twitches whenever she’s focused on something. The way she fits in his hold. The way she reacts under his touch.

He couldn’t forget about the way she sucked on his thumb unknowingly and the way her eyes became hooded from his touch. It’s obvious that she had no idea what was happening and what she was feeling and that only fueled his hunger more.

The thought of her being hurt made him furious. It made him protective. He wants to protect her at all costs because not even the ends of her hair should get hurt. No. Not on his watch.

Steve couldn’t take her out of her mind even if he wanted to. That’s the problem. He doesn’t want her out of his mind anymore. He doesn’t want to avoid her anymore.

Steve accepted it.

He knows that he wants her and he knows that she’ll be able to have him wrapped around her precious little finger if she wants to.

He realized how she has a tight hold over him without even knowing it and he’s accepted that fact.

He’s ready to do everything for the girl and she doesn’t even know it. He’s ready to give her everything he has and everything he is.

He’s ready to give himself completely to her. Of course, it is if she’ll have him.

After that encounter with Steve, you finally followed his instruction and stopped trying to make various meals in the kitchen.

You were craving cake so you asked one of the cooks to bake you a cake. That’s why there’s a whole cute pink cake in front of you at the kitchen counter.

You’re currently staring at it, thinking it’s too precious to destroy and eat but after a minute of your mouth watering, you give up and run your index finger on the sides until it is covered in icing.

You licked your finger before sucking on it and humming at the sweet taste of the icing while your eyes are closed. When there is none left on your finger, you take your index and middle finger before sliding it on the sides of the cake to gather twice as much as the previous one.

Your eyes are closed and lips parted slightly apart, ready to suck on your fingers one more time when a hand grips your wrist. Your eyes fly open to see Steve holding your hand while he’s looking down at your face with a boyish grin. Your eyes widened for the second time when his tongue darted out of his mouth and started licking the icing off your fingers.

He was staring at you as he continued to lick the icing and you were starting to pull away when his lips parted wider to start sucking on your fingers. You’re frozen in shock as your eyes twitched at the sight of him sucking on your fingers.

You feel your heart drop when he starts groaning against your fingers. The unfamiliar feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you bit your bottom lip anxiously at the strange feelings you always get whenever Steve’s with you.

Your eyes follow Steve’s lips as he pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a silent pop. He looks at you with a smile before furrowing his brows. “Did you bake this?”

“N-no! I had someone to bake it for me.” You’re quick to let him know that you didn’t make the cake. He smiled again and you just realize how giddy you feel when you’re able to make him smile like that.

“Really? So you finally listened to me?” He chuckles when he sees you nod shyly at him. “Aren’t you a good little girl.” He cooes before looking at the cake with a smirk. “This cake is really delicious…” He leans back to stand straight and you nodded at him in agreement. “I wonder…”

You let out a loud squeal when he suddenly puts his hands under your arms before pulling you up and sitting you down on the counter. You look at him with a stunned expression. “Wha—“

“But I bet you taste better than this cake.” You couldn’t respond because he immediately connects his lips with yours, making your eyes pop out in shock as he continues to attack your mouth. You let out a small whimper when you feel his tongue pushing past your lips and roaming around the inside of your mouth, tickling the roof of your mouth.

You start chuckling against his lips and he stops, looking at you in confusion. “You’re tickling me…” You point at the top of your mouth and Steve’s frown turned into a grin. His hand found their ways on the top of your knees and then he’s pushing them apart. “I know a place where I can tickle you... I’m sure you’ll like it.” He pulls you closer to him so you slide against the counter. He carefully pushes your shoulders until your back is laying on the cold kitchen counter. You feel him hiking your skirt up and pulling your underwear down before he sets your feet back on the counter, knees bent, and far apart.

You could feel him breathing against your skin and you could feel your body running hot while the hairs on your body stand in attention. You feel something wet run against your skin and you yelp as you sit on your elbows, looking at Steve alarmingly. His face was just in front of your core and tongue is just retreating your skin.

“Wh-what are you doing, Steve?” You bite your lip as you watch him stand up until he’s face to face with you. “I’m trying to make you feel good, baby. Do you trust me?” He presses his lips against yours and pulls away, waiting for your answer.

“I don’t know…” You admit, stomach dropping at the sadness that flashes over his face.

“Then let me show you that you can trust me. Can you let me do that?” He looks at you and smiles when you nod at him. He presses his lips on you once more, pushing you against the kiss until your back is back on the counter. He pulls away, pecking you one last time before going back to press kisses in between your legs.

He licks up your skin, hands pressing down on your hips when you begin squirming around. You feel his mouth sucking on the bud before flicking his tongue over it. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining under him, unsure if you want him to stop or to do something else.

“What do you want, little girl?” He breathes against your core, making your legs shiver at the sensation.

“I don’t know…” You whine, eyes staring at him as he stands over your body. He raises his right hand, fingers fluttering in display as he gives you a questioning look. “You want me to use this on you?” You could only nod in desperation because the feeling of emptiness when he pulled away from you is becoming too much.

“Good girl.” You hear him whisper before going back in between your legs. You feel his fingers playing with your bud instead of his tongue and it feels overwhelming when he uses his tongue to press it against your entrance.

“Mmmhm” You close your eyes in delight as he continues to play with you. The familiar feeling in your abdomen makes itself known once again and this time, it’s stronger. You need more.

“P-please…” You mutter under your breath, pulling on Steve’s hair to catch his attention. He looks at you with a proud smile before asking. “What is it? You need more? Want me to put my finger inside you, is that it?”

——

Steve smiles when she nods her head eagerly. So innocent, can’t even tell him what she wants. What she needs.

He rubs on her clit a few more times to wet his fingers before lining a finger against her slit. He looks back at her as he starts pushing the finger in, slowing down when her hand grips her arm.

Steve groans at the tightness of her walls against his finger and starts to slowly pump it as he watches her face contort into a pleasured frown. When he feels her loosening up, he adds another finger that earns a low moan from her. Steve stiffens for a second when he feels his pants getting tighter in the crotch area. His cock is begging him for attention but he pays no mind, focusing on the angel in front of him.

He spreads his fingers apart inside of her as he leans down to start flicking his tongue against her clit, smirking against it when her thighs shiver against his head. He feels her breaths starting to become uneven and he knows that she’s just about to cum so he doubles his effort, sucking her clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of her.

Her back arches off the counter and Steve hooks an arm under her to pull her up and press her against his chest. She shakes against his hold as he helps her get through her high. She slumps against his hold, head falling down the side of his neck.

Steve tilts his head to look at her face, eyes hooded and forehead sweating. She looks so adorable like this. “That cake gave us such a rush, huh?” He chuckles before hooking her legs around his torso and hugging her body close to his. He feels her dozing off as he carries her to her bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and tucks you under your blanket before studying your face. So peaceful. So relaxed. A smile forms on your face and Steve finds himself smiling as well.

“Goodnight, my sweet little girl.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room.

It’s currently four in the afternoon and Steve is currently sitting on a couch in the massive living room, thinking about the night he has planned for him and his little girl.

After that time in the kitchen, things have been great with them. It’s been a few months and he became someone he didn’t know he could be and it was all for her. He wants nothing but the best for his girl. He gives her the ‘special treatment’ or ‘reward’ whenever she asks for it. She’ll do something nice for him to receive his special kisses but Steve knew that he’ll give her anything without her working for it. He just likes the attention he gets from her when she gets a little needy.

Steve feels his crotch stirring under his pants at the thought of eating his little girl out. He always eats her out and makes her putty with his fingers but his cock remains abandoned.

He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t want to scare his girl. He’ll wait as long as he needs until his little girl’s ready for him. For the time being, he’ll make sure to keep his little girl happy and satisfied.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his little girl walked in front of him with a weird look on her face, a phone held against her right ear. He sits up in attention, his body becoming alert at the way her face scrunches up in fear as she looks at him.

“What’s wrong, little girl?” His voice is a whisper but his tone is hard.

She looks at him with a frown before handing him the phone. He looks at it and listens to her as she speaks.

“Father called… Which is weird because he never calls when they’re on a trip. Let alone a business trip. He told me that the trip would be a few months and I didn’t think they would be in some kind of situation after being gone for almost seven months… They’re usually gone longer than that. But then that guy—” She points at the phone in Steve’s hand before continuing her explanation.

“—That guy took the phone away from my father when he’s explaining something to me about telling something to you, Steve. His name is Rumlow and he’s got a very foul mouth—” He watches as her nose scrunches up, probably at the memory of the man’s words on the phone but Steve didn’t care about that. He’s worried about Rumlow talking to you. Through your father’s phone at that!

Steve presses the phone against his ear before asking who’s on the other line.

“Ahh, Rogers… Where’s the little brat? I thought she’s enjoying the things I’m promising her. Told her about how my cock will make her cunt cry—” Steve feels his blood boiling at the way Rumlow is talking about his little girl.

“What are you on about, Rumlow? What are you doing with that phone?” Steve cuts Rumlow off, voice so harsh that he sees her flinching at his tone. He smiles at her before ushering her back to her room.

“You see… Your girl is supposed to be mine. I saw her first but imagine the surprise I got when I ask her dear daddy for her hand and he tells me that she’s married to a Steve fucking Rogers.” Steve hears Rumlow’s bitter laugh before hearing her little girl’s father groan in pain, no doubt that he took a blow from Rumlow.

“I just want a simple deal here, Rogers. I’ll text the address and I expect to have the girl and a bag filled with… I don’t know, ten million dollars? If you’re too broke then just bring the girl. I’m sure she’ll make the lack of ten million with her pretty little cunt.” Rumlows cackle was heard along with the cries of your parents. He must’ve held them as hostages.

“Do that and her parents stay safe. Be here at 9 pm sharp or it’s bye-bye for her lovely parents. Tik-Tok, Rogers. Tik-Tok…” Steve almost crushes the phone into pieces in his hand when Rumlow hangs up on him. Rumlow holds your parents as hostages and dares to speak about you like that. He’ll fucking kill him.

The phone buzzes and he sees the address Rumlow sent him. They were no longer in Prague. They’re back here...

Steve makes a move to call his best man, Bucky, when he hears sounds coming from her room. He quickly runs over, throwing her door open to see her shoving a bunch dollar bills into a huge bag while a phone is pressed against her neck and her shoulder.

Steve’s heart falls at the sight of tears falling down her face. She must’ve heard everything with the connecting phone lines. He sighs before walking over to his girl and steadying her by holding her shoulders in a firm grip. “Everything will be alright. I’ll call someone to fix the problem. They’ll clear the building, catch the bad guy, and then your parents will be home in no time!” Steve gives her a smile but it doesn’t work. Her face is still wet with tears as she shakes her head in disagreement.

“No! The b-bad guy will harm my parents if he sees your men without me! I don’t w-want anything bad happening to my family, Steve. I-I don’t want that!” He pulls her against his chest as he sobs and shakes against his hold. Steve runs a comforting hand on her back before sighing in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll save your parents but I have to call my friends for backup. And you have to stay as far away from the fighting. I’ll have my best guy, James, be with you the whole time. You can trust him, he’s my best friend. You need to stick with him because he’ll keep you safe, got it?” He gives her a firm yet gentle look, jaw clenching when she nodded eagerly at him before continuing to fill the bag with cash.

He makes his calls and in no time, they’re driving towards the address Rumlow sent him.

Steve parks the car a few miles away from the building where her parents are being held as hostages. He looks at his little girl who’s currently wearing sweatpants and his hoodie which looks pretty big on her. He smiles at the sight before letting out a shaky breath.

“You gotta stay here, okay? I promise that I’ll get your parents out safely. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll protect them for you, okay? You trust me, little girl?” He watches her as she reluctantly nods her head. He sighs at that before handing her a pistol gun. “You know how to use one?” He asks, surprised to see his little girl nod. She must’ve seen his surprised look because she looks down before explaining, “I had basic shooting lessons.” He smiles at his little girl before nodding.

He gets out of the car before walking around and opening the door for his girl and helping her out. He sees James walking over to them and he nods at his friend in acknowledgment before looking back at his girl. “This is Bucky. He’ll keep you safe. Stick with him, alright?” He watches her girl as she observes his friend with her adorable curious eyes.

“The others are already surrounding the building. Backup is also ready. Just say something and they’ll attack. Good luck out there.” He smiles at Bucky’s words before kissing his girl’s forehead.

“Please stay safe, Steve.” His girl mutters and he feels his heart skip a beat at that moment. “I will. Anything for you, little girl.” He turns to leave, hearing his girl one last time before disappearing.

“That’s a nice-looking vest, Mr. Bucky.”

Everything was going well for Steve. Rumlow’s men are really weak and easy to take down and when Rumlow realized that, he ran. He ran away like the coward he is. He ran out of the building and that was that. At least, that’s what Steve thought.

He was able to see her parents and he quickly untied them, her mother thanking him endlessly while her father only grumbled his thanks once.

He was guiding the couple out of the building, surprised to see his little girl standing a few miles away from them with Bucky. He sees her eyes brighten in relief that made all his worries disappear.

He was walking with her parents when he heard the cocking of a gun beside his head.

“Not so fast.” A raspy voice speaks beside him.

Rumlow…

Before Steve could even move, a bang was heard. Followed by another bang that has his ears ringing in pain. He closes his eyes to ease the aching in his head or his body. Was he shot?

His eyes fly open when he remembers that his girl is also out in the open and his eyes quickly darts over towards her.

To his surprise, his girl is holding the gun he gave her earlier in his direction.

Steve quickly scans the couple near him for injuries when he hears someone groaning below him. He finds Rumlow laying on his back, legs bleeding while his arms are spread out.

He looks back at his girl, a sense of pride filling his system. His girl just did that.

He watches as his girl runs towards him with her arms wide open, ready to envelop him in a hug.

Steve grins before he hears Rumlow muttering and everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

“If I can’t have her… Then nobody can!” Rumlow spits before a loud bang go out.

Steve’s eyes grow wide when he sees the bullet piercing through his hoodie and into his girl’s chest.

His heart stops when he sees her falling down into Bucky’s arms and onto the cold ground.

Her mother’s cries filled Steve’s ringing ears as well as her father’s curses as he tried to console his wife.

Steve quickly kicks the gun from Rumlow’s hand before kicking the bastard’s face repeatedly until he’s unconscious. He releases all his anger on the bastard who shot his little girl by bending down and throwing punches down the unconscious man. He keeps punching until he sees Bucky carrying his girl towards them.

He pulls back from a bleeding Rumlow before running towards Bucky and taking his girl from his best friend. He brushes some stray hair away from her forehead before observing her face.

“Call the fucking ambulance!” He barks at nobody but Bucky follows his order, quickly fumbling with his phone and calling their mob doctor.

Steve was about to rip his hoodie off his girl when her eyes suddenly flew open, gasping for air.

Steve’s heart stops for a second, he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or relief but he’s grateful to see his little girl alive and breathing. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on the side of his neck as she catches her breath. He wraps his arm around her shaking body, gripping her tight and pulling her body against his like he’s afraid that she’ll slip away from his grasp.

“Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hears his girl talking to her parents who are currently behind him. He should let her go to reunite with her parents but he doesn’t. He keeps her against his body.

“Are you okay, dear?” Her mother asks and he feels his girl nodding against his neck. His girl finally pulls away from him before tugging on the hoodie she’s wearing and pulling it up to reveal a bulletproof vest.

Bucky’s laughter fills the air and everyone turns to look at him. “You little genius!” He exclaims before pointing at his little girl. “She kept bothering me about my vest and didn’t stop until I gave her one! Ah... You got yourself a keeper and a smartass, Steve!” He continues to laugh, her parents soon follow Bucky until everyone is laughing as well.

Everyone’s laughter is cut off by Rumlow waking up before gasping for air just like you were a few moments ago.

He pulls his girl against his chest, blocking her view from Bucky who gets his gun out before pointing it towards Rumlow’s head.

Steve covers his girl’s ears before another bang goes out. The last one for the night.

“I’m really fine, Steve. Dr. Banner said I was fine! No scars and all, see?” You pull your hoodie up to assure him. You watch him stare at your skin, probably looking for scars before he forces your hoodie down with a frown as he bites his lip.

“You can’t just pull your shirt up like that. People might see.” His hushed and commanding voice makes you gulp and nod apologetically.

You look around as he walks the both of you towards the lake. “But there’s nobody around, Steve.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt as you walk with him.

You feel his warm fingers under your chin before your head is tilted up so you’re looking directly up at him. “You really are a smartass, huh?” He smirks, feeling your body warm up against his hold before throwing his arm around your shoulders to continue walking.

Steve holds you close as the both of you walk down the dock under the darkness of the night. He stops just at the end of the dock before turning to face you.

You admire his face, looking so enchanting under the light of the moonlight. “You remember the first time we met?” He asks, grinning at your embarrassed reaction which is you chewing your bottom lip. He caresses your face before running his thumb across your lips, stopping your teeth’s attacks on your lips.

“How you’re taught to shoot a gun but not how to swim will always be a mystery.” He chuckles, smiling down at you and you watch him as he does just that. He’s just so pretty to look at.

“You really scared me tonight, little girl…” His sad tone made your eyebrows shoot up in worry. “I-I didn’t mean to, Steve! I’m so sorry.” You frown at yourself but he brushes his fingers on the wrinkles you made between your eyebrows which makes you relax just a bit.

“I was supposed to be the one protecting you. Not the other way around.” He lets out a sigh before looking at the water. “But thank you. Thank you for doing that. And for trusting me. I know you were a little hesitant with trusting me but you still did. So thank you for that. It means a lot.” Steve looks back at you and smiles. You feel your heart fluttering at his smile but it also breaks at his words. You wanted to tell him that he’s wrong but you are cut off by a bunch of lights.

You gasp at the lights that start to flicker all around you. You do a slow full 360, looking at the trees that are covered with fairy lights, the side of the docks are covered with lights as well, and the darkness is soon replaced by a whole bunch of lights. Your heart starts to jump when you hear slow music playing in the background and it feels like every time you do a full 360 turn, something new presents itself.

Everything seems so magical, so pretty and so… Something straight out of the fairytale movies that you watch.

You turn to face Steve again only to find him gone. You frown before looking down to see him down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hand which he holds towards you.

You feel yourself grinning with so much joy running through your system and you can’t help but to let out a squeal when the velvet box opens to reveal a very pretty diamond ring.

“Little girl… Will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy which makes you giggle. You start giggling more which makes Steve lick his lips as his eyes flash his nervousness.

“Steve, you’re so dumb.” You mumble through giggles.

“Huh?” Steve slowly stands up, looking at you with sad eyes.

“We’re already married! We both signed the papers!” You point out the obvious, stopping your giggle fit before kissing him on the lips.

“Don’t be sad, Steve… I accept your proposal… Even though we’re already married.” You giggle once more before letting him put the ring on you.

He guides you until the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling down the water.

“I just wanted you to have a normal yet magical experience even just for a moment,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s kind of useless.” You automatically say.

“What? Why?” Steve feels his heart fall at your words. Is he doing this whole thing wrong?

“I already feel like that whenever I’m with you.” You state, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Steve feels his heart beat an extra mile but he also feels relieved that he’s indeed doing it right.

You grin at the sight of Steve blushing in front of you. You never thought that the man who was so hard on you the first time you met was going to be a blushing mess in front of you right now.

“Hey, Steve?” Your voice cuts the thin air and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“You know how I saved your life earlier…” Steve smiles at your bashful expression that he finds so adorable.

“Mhmm…” He nonchalantly hums.

“Well… I was thinking…” You bite your lip in nervousness and embarrassment at the question you’re about to ask him.

“What is it, little girl?” His voice is matched with a chuckle as he gives you a grin.

“Can I have a reward for that?” You blurt out.

Steve feels his cock stir in his pants at her words. He bites his lip before standing up and helping her up as well.

“I’ll give you everything you want, little girl. It doesn’t have to be a reward. You ask for it, you get it, is that clear?” He gives you a questioning look before smiling when you nod eagerly at him.

“Now, what is it that you want as a reward?”

————-

He trails kisses from your forehead to your nose, nose to your cheeks, cheeks to your neck. He purposely skips your lips with a grin and starts feasting on your neck. He licks and sucks on a spot he knows too well, earning an adorable squeak from you when he teasingly bites on the skin. “S-Steve!” You gasp, hands going straight to his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. He continues nipping on your neck until your head tilts back and a quiet moan escapes your lips.

He pulls away to look at you and then smirks.

“You want me to give you those special kisses for your rewards?” He cocks a brow before smiling when you nod your head eagerly at him. “Y-yes please.”

Steve wastes no time to pleasure you. His little girl.

He dives for your glistening core and groans in pleasure at your taste. He uses his tongue to stimulate you through your clit, enjoying the way your body shakes under his hold.

Steve listens to your moans and whimpers like a song and uses it as motivation to keep you a writhing mess under him. “Please, S-Stevie…” He hears you cry under him, reaching your hands towards his hands and pulling it closer to his face as he tongues your clit.

Steve chuckles at your needy behavior but complies, not missing the nickname leaving your lips. Anything for his little girl.

Steve easily enters a finger into your wet core, groaning at your warmness and wetness before adding another finger. He sees your face contorting into a mix of pleasure and pain. Steve leans down to kiss your clit and flicks his tongue faster to distract you from the pain.

“A-aah” He watches your eyes rolling back when he begins to spread his fingers inside you. Another finger enters and you’re crumbling against his fingers, walls closing around his fingers as you cum undone under him. He pulls away from you before reaching for your face and kissing you hungrily. He smiles against the kiss when he feels you return the kiss with the same hunger.

He feels you pulling away and he lets you, frowning a little when he sees you looking at him timidly. His hand carefully reaches for your face, knuckles gliding down for cheeks smoothly. “What is it, little girl?”

He watches you bite your lip before looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I w-want to give you special kisses too…” Steve freezes as he feels his cock getting harder than before. He feels your hands reaching for his member, giving him a look before gulping. “C-can you teach me? I want to make you feel good too…”

Steve doesn’t know which is beating harder; his cock or his heart, maybe both… Probably both. You do that to him. Only you. His little girl.

Steve finds himself gulping as well. “You don’t have to, litt—”

“I want to!” You’re quick to cut him off. Almost eager, he notices. He lets out a nervous laugh before nodding. “Okay, okay… I’ll teach you.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up from his approval. He smiles at you before guiding your hands that’s currently holding his hard member.

“Just do this gently…” He guides your hands up and down his shaft, head going crazy at the sight of your hands not being able to cover his huge cock. He bites his lip, willing himself to hold on and not cum on your hands so early.

“C-can I kiss it now?” He looks down at you, sitting on the mattress as your innocent eyes look up at him while he stands on the ground. “Go ahead, little girl. Try it.” He encourages you, smiling when you press a quick kiss on his tip. His jaw clenches when you press another kiss, longer this time.

Steve’s eyes flutter when he feels your tongue dancing around his tip. You begin to lick along the shaft and then under, making Steve groan wantonly.

Steve lets out a frustrated huff when you quickly pull away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just doing what you did to me. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Your eyes are teary and Steve realized that his moans made you think that you hurt him.

He sighs before leaning down to your face, giving you an assuring smile before kissing your nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little girl. You’re doing everything right. In fact, you’re doing so great that my friend down there couldn’t help but to go wild under your touch.” He points at his member before grinning at your widened eyes.

“I’m going to guide you. There’s no reason to be afraid. If you want to stop, just tap me and we will stop. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?” He waits for your response and lets out a breath of relief when you nod.

He stands back up, putting your hands on his behind and guiding your face just in front of his cock. “Open wide, little girl.” He sings and grins when you do as told. He holds the back of your head but never pushes you, leaving you to go at your own pace.

You push yourself forward, taking him halfway before pulling back and pushing yourself back to him. His moans of pleasure push you to do more so you do. You swirl your tongue on his tip as you bob your head, smiling at the loud moan that leaves his lips.

“You little tease…” He breathes out, his grip on your head getting tighter but not enough to hurt you. He feels the vibration of your laughter on his cock and he lets out another cry of pleasure.

Feeling confident with yourself, you push yourself forward until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

He helps you as you pull away from him, looking down at you with his flushed face. He studies your face, eyes shadowed with lust, making his heart do somersaults. He wipes the tears on your face before saying, “Breathe through your nose, okay?” He watches you nod and chuckles when you go back for his cock, taking him deep at a slow pace and staying there for a second before pulling slightly away. “That’s my good girl…” He moans as you continue to take him, teasing his tip with your tongue when he suddenly pulls you away from him.

“Did I—” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against your lips and pushing you until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you. “You did great. I just want my cum somewhere else…” He catches your lips when you bite on them, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

He pulls away, guiding your body until he’s kneeling between your thighs, one hand on his cock while the other is on your thigh. “Is this okay?” He asks when he places the tip of his cock on your slit.

You gingerly nod, whimpering when he slides his cock on your sensitive clit. “P-please…” You have no idea what you’re begging for but he seems to know what he’s doing.

“Do you trust me, little girl?” Steve asks, looking at your face with hopeful eyes.

“Yes, Stevie. I trust you.” Steve’s heart warms up at how fast you answered his question. He nods before sliding a few more teasing thrusts into your folds and clit before slowly sliding his tip into your slit. He stops to look at your face that’s contorted into a frown. He leans down your face to kiss your frown away and kisses your lips as well, hoping to distract you from the pain.

Steve pushes his cock deeper when he feels you relax under him. He pushes slowly and stops when he’s fully in, groaning when your walls hug his member tightly. “Fuck!” He hisses before looking at you. “You okay?” He asks, smiling when you nod at him, eyes closed. He kisses your lips before pulling halfway and thrusting into you once more, earning a little whimper from you.

“How are you feeling, baby?” You try to ignore the nickname, opening your eyes and looking straight at his eyes. “G-good. Please move, Stevie.” You press your palms against his chest. He pulls halfway out before shoving himself inside you again, repeating this action until you’re moaning loudly under him and clutching his biceps for support.

Steve feels your walls fluttering around him, alarming him that you’re close. He knows he’s close as well so he helps you reach your peak by rubbing your clit with his fingers, groaning at how your walls tighten around him.

Steve listens to your cries of pleasure as your walls clamp down on his cock as you cum, making him cum as well and milking him. Your body shakes under him and both of you breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. He falls to your side, his arms enveloping around you to pull you against his chest into a warm and strong embrace.

“It’s official. We just consummated our marriage... I’m all yours just as much as you’re all mine.” He stares at your face, watching your eyes as you fight yourself from falling asleep.

“I fucking love you, little girl.” He lazily says, brushing your face with his fingers. You stare at him sleepily, listening to the beat of his heart.

“The fuck is he doing?” Your father grumbles as he watches Steve prance around the kitchen.

“He’s making our daughter breakfast. I think our daughter broke him.” Your mother snickers at the way your father looks at Steve in disbelief.

“You tellin’ me that he touched Y/N?!” Your father fumes, getting ready to walk up to the man in the kitchen before your mother stops him.

“Oh, hunny. Would you stop that? They’re married. And Y/N is an adult. They both are. They can do anything they want. And I can see that Steve really loves our daughter. The way he acted after Y/N got shot. Not to mention the part where he literally saved our asses. Your ass.” Your mother berates your father who just huffs in response before leaving. Your mother chuckles before following her husband, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

“You made cookies without me?” Steve’s heart flutters as you pout at him. “I want to make cookies too…” You mumble under your breath. You just woke up from your sleep when Steve entered the room with a plate full of cookies.

“I didn’t want you getting into any accidents, little girl.” Steve chuckles when you take one cookie before grumpily munching on it. He watches as your eyes light up before covering it up with a frown. “Will you stop calling me little girl?”

“Never.” He simply says. You huff and Steve couldn’t help but to chuckle at your cuteness.

“Your cookies aren't even that good. I make better cookies.” You mumble before taking another cookie from the plate and munching on it. Steve raises an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “I know you do, little girl. I know you do.” He smiles at you before making a move to sit beside you.

“No! Wait! Stay there.” You point a finger at him before fumbling around the sheets as if looking for something.

“You okay?” Steve asks, eyes shooting open when you jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, only the sheets covering your body. You realize this and quickly pull on the hoodie from last night before looking back at Steve with a grin.

“Hi,” You start, earning a confused look from Steve. “Hello?” He chuckles when you look at him with so much excitement that you’re literally bouncing on your toes.

“I want to give you something.”

“What is it?” Steve watches your fist as you hold it against his face before opening it, revealing a gold ring that looks to be vintage or a hundred years old.

“Where’d that come from, little girl?” Steve whispers.

“Can I put it on you? Will you marry me too?” You ignore his question, too excited to listen to anything. Steve laughs before nodding, watching you with adoration as you giddily put the ring on him.

“There! So pretty! You’re so pretty, Stevie!” You continue to admire the ring on his finger when he takes your chin with said hand, making you look up at him.

“Thank you, little girl.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips before pulling away with a smile.

“My father gave it to me.” You blurt out, making Steve’s eye widen just a bit.

“Your father?” He asks, not sure about what’s happening.

“Yes. He came here earlier. Told me that you deserve the ring and that you should never make him regret anything?” Steve listens to you, you obviously don’t know what your father did but it’s enough for Steve to understand.

“Oh… And Stevie?” He looks at you, smiling and asking you if you need something.

“I love you too.” You grin at him.

Steve stares at you for a moment before feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

He makes a quick move towards you, pulling you in a tight embrace and pampering your face with kisses.

“I love you, little girl. Thank you for saying it back.” He mumbles against your hair before pressing a kiss on your lips once more.

“Stop calling me little girl!” You grumble against him.

He only chuckles at you before shaking his head. “No. You’ll always be my little girl.”

----

a/n: omfg if you finished all that, congratulations you just wasted a whole lot of ur time but thanks for wasting it on me 3;-)

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #mob!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers oneshot #au #mobster au #Steve Rogers

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years ago

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been a while since i posted a fic update! anyone wanna read some cowboy au nonsense? sure you do! well here it is

The blinding, unforgiving midday heat is enough to raise blisters on the skin. Looking out over a crowd of folks booing him, calling for his demise, probably should have had some kind of emotional impact. On the occasion of one’s death, after all, one does expect tears. Flowers, laid out in lace, dark veils and coal black clothes, a few muffled sobs from those further back in the funerary procession, unable to contain themselves. Instead he’s met with the dusty faces of former neighbors and strangers alike, all eagerly waiting to hear the exact tone and pitch that his neck will make when it snaps.

Bored, he turns his attention from the crowd, and watches a lizard scurry across the wooden planks of the gallows, as a man to his right fits a rough bit of rope around his neck. It scratches, but he doesn’t react, not feeling frightened or even especially interested. A similar rough twine is binding his hands together behind his back, keeping him from having any viable way to save himself. The crowd is calling for blood now. Hangings generally are not gorey affairs, but he did once see a drop too sudden and a rope so long that the fella wasn’t just hung, he was decapitated. Beetlejuice glances back down at the crowd, tries to imagine what direction his head would roll if that happened here, and smirks, because it seems to him the last thing he’d see would be the view from inside the skirts of some of the women standing front and center. Not the worst last sight a man could have. “You think you could hurry this along?” he asks the man fitting the noose around his neck. “Sun’s beatin’ down somethin’ fierce an’ I ain’t got my hat.” His personal possessions are back at the sheriff’s office- hat, bandana, silver plated, pearl handled pistol, and his custom belt buckle, just about the nicest, and maybe only, thing he ever paid for. God damn corrupt lawman’s probably gonna pawn his stuff as soon as he’s swinging. Maybe before. Maybe his last worldly possessions are already gone. S’not like he’ll need them, where he’s goin.

A face he recognizes is led up from the crowd, an ancient wizened body tanned for years by the all too eager sunlight and scorching sands. It’s the local preacher, who he remembers from his formative years. The old man used to give him bread and plain, unseasoned chicken in return for listening to him talk about god, and if he hadn’t been nearly starved to death half the time, he might have spat in the old man’s face. Shouldn't charity be done for the sake of charity, not proselytizing? He’d said so once, and that was the last meal the old miser had given him. Jackass.

“Beetlejuice,” the preacher begins. His name is said with disdain and a curled upper lip. It’s one of the reasons he chose it, honestly. “You still have time to repent, young man. I remember you, as a child, bright eyed, curious about the kingdom of heaven.” Well now, that’s the very definition of taking artist liberty. “Now, here, you have one more chance to repent, to accept god’s mercy, and avoid the lake of fire.” The crowd is watching, waiting to see if he will confess his remorse. Beetlejuice hums, rocks on the balls of his feet, and then sighs. “.. C’mere,” He mumbles, jerking his head to indicate the old man should step closer. The holy man does. “I got a lot to confess to, preacher man, an’ not much time.” His voice is soft. The ailing man can’t hear him, steps closer, if only a little. “So much to confess to, in fact, I oughta just… Skip th’ whole thing an’ go straight to hell!” And Beetlejuice reels back, and then slams his forehead into the old man’s face. The sickeningly satisfying crunch of cartilage tells him he’s broken the preacher’s nose, as the elderly man falls back, crying out in pain, blood gushing from his new wound. The crowd roars, furious, and he grins, and laughs. “Ain’t no good extendin’ your pious pity to me!” he calls, gleeful, as he’s pelted with whatever the people watching can get their hands on, and the old man is helped, taken away, led off of the platform. “Enough, enough, we will have order!” a lawman cries, coming up the gallow steps, to stand in front of the outlaw. It’s enough to get the crowd to settle, or at least stop throwing things. There’s still a bad energy in the air, which Beetlejuice can taste on the tip of his tongue. His smile is rictus, he’s delighted to be the cause of it all.

“This man has been tried and found guilty,” the lawman continues. The trial had been very short, and his incarceration shorter. He understands he’s being made an example of to other outlaws, bandits, and trouble makers. They intentionally didn’t give him any time to plan anything, or for any coconspirators to come and assist him. Joke’s on them. They could have taken all the time in the world. Ain’t nobody alive who cares for this outlaw. Not a soul who would dare to come and stage a rescue. He’s utterly alone. “He’s allowed his last words. Clearly,” the lawman turns, eyes Beetlejuice, who smiles flirtatiously. The other man’s expression shifts from annoyance to disgust. “He’s disavowed the advice of Pastor Neighbors.” “M’not so sure you’re usin’ that word right, friend,” Beetlejuice snorts, but he’s ignored. “Any last words?” the hangman to his right asks, his hand itching to grip the lever that will drop the floor and finally, finally, release the outlaw from the confines of mortal life.

Beetlejuice grins.

“If any of you have a message for th’ devil, give it to me!” he shouts, with a cackle, and he watches in rapt and morbid delight at the way the faces in the crowd twist. “I’ll carry it down to hell for you!” The crowd is furious enough it almost seems to him they’re going to storm the platform, and maybe beat him to death. The wave of gasps from the women folk is particularly amusing.

“Enough of this!” He hears the voice of the lawman, disgusted, and the hangman must agree, because the last thing he hears is the lever being thrown, and the floor gives out under him, and he’s falling, falling, falling.

His ass hits a chair.

There’s a moment of blinded confusion, because he's gone from the unbearable dusty sun of midday California, to a cool, dark, musty smelling interior. His eyes need a moment to adjust to the change. He’s sitting in a room he doesn’t recognize. The chair under him is plush, but just thin seated enough to be a tad uncomfortable. He squirms in it, confused, and finds his hands are still tied behind his back. He turns his head. Seated across from him is a young woman.. Well, little girl might be more accurate, she’s maybe fourteen. There’s a wicked looking hoofprint emblazoned on her right temple. The blood that’s leaking from the wound has gone a sickly old color. They stare at each other. “Did that hurt?” she asks, first, and he squints, because he’d been about to ask the same question. Her hand has gone to her throat, as she looks at him, and he looks down, pressing his fat face into his fat neck to create an unflattering double chin as he does so. He can feel the rope around his neck. He follows the line of it with his eyes, and turns to look up. The rope travels up from him, into the ceiling. It’s still taught, like he’s suspended by it, but his ass is touching chair, his boots are on the ground, and he doesn’t feel choked by it’s presence. He tuts. “Didn’t feel a thing. That hurt?” he tries to gesture to her wound, but again, he’s reminded his hands are bound behind him. She stands. “Hurt a bit, but then I got so dizzy I didn’t hardly feel it, after,” she tells him, and then, like the good little frontierswoman she is, she produces a knife from inside some pocket in the volume of her skirts, and gratefully, he leans forward. She rests a knee on one of the chairs, to get a better angle, as she uses her bowie to cut through the rope at his wrists. “Awful kind of you, half pint,” he tells her, and she smiles. “Ain’t nothin.” She settles into the chair next to him, which is a little surprising, but he doesn’t mind, over all. “You’re an outlaw, then?” she asks. He grunts, and then turns to face her, with a grin. “You probably heard of me. They called me Th’ Ghost, on occasion, cause I could slip away without bein’ caught-” he watches her eyes travel up the line of his noose, and then settle back on his face, a little less impressed than she ought to be. He responds by pinching her nose, and she swats at his hand, and laughs. “I do think I heard of you,” she concedes. “I’m Presley.” “Presley, alright. You got a clue where we are, kiddo?” “I just was told to wait.” “Told by who?”

Across the room, a window he hadn’t registered as being there slides open. This place vaguely resembles a bank, he realizes, and so that means that’s the teller’s window. A woman with a tired expression on a pretty face peers out at him. “Hey, dead beat,” she calls, her accent thick around the words. “Juno wants to see you.” He motions to himself, questioningly. She raises an eyebrow in silent confirmation. “Should I care?” he asks, and her upper lip curls in the most beautiful version of a sneer he’s ever seen. “You’re real funny. Get in there before she loses her temper.” And she reaches up, and slams the window shut.

He looks to Presley, and they both share a little shrug, before he stands, and takes a step. The rope going through the ceiling moves with him, not along any visible track, that he can see, but seeming rather more like a toy balloon on a string, bobbing along as though after a child winding their way through the crowd of a state fair. There’s a door by the teller’s window, and he makes for it, only for the window to slide open again, and that beautiful face to reappear. She looks him over, not seeming particularly impressed, but also not outright cruel. “Where’s your handbook?” she asks. Beetlejuice tilts his head. It lolls a little comically to one side, presumably because his neck is broken. She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. “You can’t be serious. You didn’t bring your handbook?” “Listen, lady, even if I had whatever book you’re talkin about, I couldn’t read it,” he counters, and she pauses, at that. “Illiterate. Of course. What’s even the point of the handbook when so many folks can’t read it?” she mutters to herself, and then she waives him at the door, the conversation apparently over. Alright.

The door, predictably, leads to a hallway, a bit unlike anything he’s ever seen before, in terms of sheer length of the thing. It twists around like a snake, and the number of doors along the hall leads him to believe wherever he is, it’s massive. The hallway is empty, save for a man at the far end, mopping, and there doesn’t seem to be anything around for him to tuck into his pockets. Too bad, he mopes, as he carries himself down the hall, boots clacking in a way he finds tactile and pleasant. He passes the custodian, who stares at the floor behind him and sighs, and Beetlejuice looks back to see a mess of dusty footprints he’s left on a previously slightly damp but otherwise pristine floor. With a snort, he spits into the bucket of mop water, and the other man jumps back, disgusted, as Beetlejuice cackles, and continues his leisurely walk down the hall.

At a certain point he realizes he’s got no idea where he’s going, but it doesn’t especially matter. Wherever he is now, whatever version of the afterlife this is, because clearly, that’s what this is, it doesn’t seem to be fire and brimstone and all that bullshit, so he takes it easy, opening doors at random and peeking through. The things he sees don’t always make sense to him, feel like they’re out of place from the world as he knows it. He opens one door, and suddenly he’s staring at what must be a city, but the buildings are so tall they’re touching the sky, going up past the clouds, up into the heaven he doesn’t believe can really be up there. The people are dressed strangely, men and women wandering around in little more than underclothes, which he likes, instantly, and the streets are black with painted yellow lines, instead of dust and earth. Some kind of metal.. Something, a trolley without a track, moves on it’s own down the street, and he catches a glimpse of faces inside. He gets lost in the contents of this door, staring for a long time, entranced, and then it’s slammed suddenly. He turns, catches sight of the custodian with his hand on the door, and growls, an animalistic sound he didn’t know he could do. And then he stops, and turns to look, because the custodian is still a ways behind him, mopping with spit water. It’s the same man. “You don’t need to go poking your snout into places it doesn’t belong,” the man says, simply, and then in a blink, both versions of him are gone from the hallway. Maybe that’s just an… afterlife thing.

He reaches, after what feels like a boring and dragging eternity of twenty whole minutes, a set of saloon doors, the swinging kind. There’s a void of blackness behind them, but the draw he feels is unmistakable, and he pushes them open, and walks through. Instead of a room black as ink, he finds himself… standing on the wooden porch of a bar he remembers frequenting fairly often, in his younger days. At least, he has clear memories of walking into the bar. How and when and why he ended up outside of it, well… whiskey has a hell of an effect on a man’s memory. It’s a fairly chilly desert night. The chirping of crickets and the long ways away lonely baying of a dog is a sort of familiar comfort, but god damn it, he’s just left this world. He wasn’t intending on coming back to it, ever. The dusty streets are dim, illuminated only by the moon, the stars, and the few lamps still burning in windows. The town is quiet.

On the dirt road in front of him is a woman, staring at him. She’s small, older, nicely dressed, with hair shorter than he’s ever seen on a lady, and a mouth sort of like a toad, long and downturned. There’s an unlit cigarette between her fingers. She’s watching him, curious and apathetic all at once. He returns the look. “Juno, then?” he grunts, stepping off the porch. No dust lifts when his boots hit the unpaved road, which he notes. Maybe he’s not really here. Maybe he’s a ghost. Fitting.

“Lawrence “Beetlejuice” Shoggoth,” she says, as he comes to stand in front of her. “Took you long enough. You realize I’ve been waiting here for days. You get lost, or something?” Her tone is sharp, like a schoolmarm with too much on her hands and not enough energy for it all. He feels a little sheepish, if only because no, he hadn’t realized that. “Gimme a break,” he says, instead of an apology. “I just died.” “Like that makes you special,” she huffs, and then, waving her unlit cigarette in his face, machine rolled, not hand, he notes, she asks, “Have you got a match?” He produces one from one of the many pockets of his moss green duster, strikes it on his thumb, and holds it up for her. She has the decency to look grateful, as she leans in, cigarette to her lips, and lights it from that little flame. “So,” she exhales smoke, and it curls from the corner of her lips, and out a previously unspotted slash to her throat. No wondering how she died, then. Speaking of, he glances up, to see that his noose is no longer floating above his head, and turning, he catches sight of it dragging on the ground behind him, long and snake-like in the way it’s twisted and coiled. Juno snaps her long red nails in his face, brings his attention back to her. “You weren’t supposed to die, you know. You’ve mucked things up for me.” “Whut?” he grunts, a bit thrown. She rubs her temples. “You were supposed to go in your seventies. Catch tuberculosis and wither away in obscurity. How old are you?” “Thirty four, or abouts,” he croaks, and she takes another drag. “You let yourself be caught,” she accuses. Well.. yeah. But how the hell does she know that? “I got pinned down in a shootout. Lucky they didn’t blow my head off, right then.” “You’ve gotten out of worse.” She looks almost.. Disappointed. “And then you put down your weapons, instead of fighting it out.” “I was surrounded.” “You were sloppy.” “What’s it to you, anyway?” he growls, again low and animalistic, which Juno ignores, as she walks circles around him, studying him. “You let yourself be caught, and you let yourself be hung. You didn’t even try to get away. You might not have killed yourself, but you let them kill you, for you,” she says. “And it’s giving me a hell of a time, both because it’s changed you, and because I have to put you somewhere, Beetlejuice, and now no one knows where you should go.” “So what does that mean?” “It means, my little statistical outlier, that you’re going to be staying up here, probably a lot broader a time than it would have taken you to just live your life and die at seventy,” she sighs, rubbing at her forehead. “Which is a shame. Because.. I was looking forward to.. To you. And now we both have to wait longer,” and here, she finishes her circle of him, to stand face to face with him again, and she flicks his ear, the way he always imagined an frustrated mother might. “Because you gave up. You weren’t supposed to give up.” “Wasn't much worth livin’ for,” he says, and it’s got more emotion behind it than he meant to give it. Juno’s hand goes to her throat, and she looks pained. “I guess that’s an inherited trait,” her voice is soft, and he squints at her, confused. Instead of giving him any context for that, she points down the dusty main road. Shining under the moonlight, he can see, vaguely, a dark shape suspended in air, near the gallows. “Go put your suit back on,” she says dryly. “And try not to cause enough trouble that I have to come up here and get after you, understood?” “What part of outlaw ain’t you gettin?” he snorts, and she responds by giving him an affectionate pat to his scruffy cheek, before she takes another drag, and vanishes inside the swirling smoke. He’s left standing on his own.

His “suit” is still hanging, he notes, looking up at himself. He’s strung up on a tall pole by the platform, leaving it free for more use, if need be, with his body on display as a gruesome reminder for potential criminals that this is a hanging town, and they’ve even hung their most despised son. His neck is bent at an ugly angle, a little bulge at the side betraying how exactly his bones had shattered, and his skin has gone a bad color, gray and foul looking. But aside from that, he’s not rotted the way he would think he ought to be. Juno’d said she’d been waiting for days, presumably meaning it has been days since his death, but his body is looking remarkably unbuzzard pecked and unrotted. He shimmies up the pole he’s hung from, his ghostly noose trailing behind him, and the moment he touches his own boot, the world spins, going upside down and inside out in a way that’s too painful to try and perceive.

“Gahh-” says Beetlejuice, because he’s back in his body, which is still being hung by that god damn noose, and he realizes, annoyed, that he has no way of cutting himself down. He kicks, pointlessly, one hand going to the rope at his neck, to clutch it and try to keep it from choking himself again, and the other grabbing at the rope further up, gripping it to pull himself up, give himself some slack, instead of hanging taught. It’s not the most coordinated he’s ever been. At least there’s no one around to watch him struggle.

“Holy shit, the body’s movin!” he hears someone holler. Oh, come on.

Read the rest, right over HERE

#beetlejuice au #beetlejuice fic #beetlelands fic #my writing #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice the musical #this is so self indulgent #i love westerns so this is all i can focus on rn

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

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Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work.

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise.

Mammon

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged…

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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norcumii · 3 years ago

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...oh thanks, Tumblr, it wasn’t like I was trying to answer that ask or anything. -_-

OHKAY. Take two! For this trope mashup meme, @dogmatix asked:

Rex/Obi or pairing/characters of choice - Apocalyse AU / Mermaid/Siren AU / Aroused by their voice

This modern!AU got a liiiiiittle bit more absurdist than planned, but NO REGRETS. Assistance was provided by @dharmaavocado and @deadcatwithaflamethrower -- THANK YOU BOTH!

*****

There was a lovely breeze coming in across the ocean, the sky had just enough puffy white clouds to keep things interesting, and Rex was taking a maintenance day. The last family group of tourists to charter a day trip had included several children that were at least two parts sticky and three parts grime. His poor Vigilance needed a serious scrub down, and Rex was not looking forward to restocking. Small Grubby Fiend 1 had stumbled – supposedly due to a sudden swell, but more likely because Small Grubby Fiends 2 and 3 hadn’t stopped ‘not kicking’ each other for way too long. Not being an entire idiot, Rex has gone right for the band-aids with cartoon characters, but since it wasn’t a cartoon Small Grubby Fiend 1 liked, that meant another – until all three Small Grubby Fiends had been plastered with far more of his first aid kit than was good for anyone.

It had been a long day.

So there he was, untangling life-vests that hadn’t even been used, while singing along with whatever music was playing from the boat’s speakers. Rex wasn’t sure if the music was pop, rock, or some other unholy category he’d never heard of, but thankfully it didn’t matter. He liked it, and could figure out which of Tup’s mix tapes it was on, which was the important thing.

Tup always made hilarious offended noises when Rex called them mix tapes, which was a significant reason why he did so. They were music folders, sensibly labeled by mood, because his little brother had realized at some point that was the only way to keep Rex up to date on anything past the 90’s grunge music.

Tup’s accusation, not his. Rex damn well knew how to use a radio – several kinds of radio, thank you very much.

He was several songs into mind-numbing chores when he spotted a flash of red streaking under the dock, and Rex ducked his head to hide a grin. He’d started spotting movement like that a couple of weeks ago, around the time the neighbors descended on their beach house. There were several ginger teenagers, so he figured one of them was a hell of a water rat who had damn odd taste in music.

To be fair, so did he.

It’d been weird at first, realizing he had an audience that disappeared the moment he acknowledged their existence. But the most he heard or saw out of them beyond the momentary glimpse was a bit of percussion, someone drumming in time against the water – and once, the dock itself – so Rex had shrugged and accepted their presence. It was kinda nice, actually, just to have someone around. He lived a ways off the end of a long, sparsely populated road, and while he didn’t mind the solitude, sometimes you just wanted another–

Rex’s train of thought went off the rails with a loud yelp as he discovered something slimy stuck to the back of a life-vest. It might have been edible once – it was a shade of radioactive green he didn’t associate with anything other than candy or video games, at least, so that was his best guess. Much as he wanted to blame the Small Grubby Fiends, he hadn’t done more than a spot check of these vests for awhile – could’ve been anyone.

Ugh. At least unlike some clients he could name, Rex’s eavesdropper wasn’t vandalizing anything. Wasn’t about to begrudge that.

Rex had managed to get most of the neon green grossness cleared when the rumble of an approaching car caught his attention. He wasn’t expecting visitors, not that that had ever stopped any of his brothers. Lost delivery drivers usually turned around before hitting up the driveway, which was long enough and had enough private property signs to keep out idiots looking for easy water access.

“Who the hell is this?” he muttered, setting the vest aside. He didn’t recognize the little black car, or the burly guy stepping out of the passenger’s side, but the guy waved and casually started towards Rex as if he knew who the hell he was.

Not reassuring, especially since the stranger rapped the car’s roof, and it headed back up the driveway.

“You seem lost,” Rex said, standing up and trying to look just the right level of intimidating.

“Nope,” the guy said back, still heading towards him. “Need your boat.”

“That’s work related – you need to wait till I’m back at the marina tomorrow. I’m at home, it’s my day off.”

Burly guy finally stopped, planting his hands on his hips – a move which just happened to part the jacket of his cheap suit enough that Rex could see the gun he carried. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Fett. I don't want any trouble – I just want you to head inside, and take that day off while I borrow your boat.”

Oh, FUCK. Nobody really talked about how the mob owned most of the marinas in Tatooine Bay, but you didn’t need to declare water was wet to get drenched in the rain. It just wasn’t something that ever happened to someone you knew, just friends of friends or something.

“And if I don’t agree?” he couldn’t keep from asking.

Burly Guy had a surprisingly expressive shrug. “Most people don’t enjoy pushing their luck that far.”

To his credit, it was a remarkably polite threat. “I’m surprised anyone ever does.”

“Eh, every now and then there’s some freaky masochist looking for cheap thrills, but it ain’t my kink. Don’t think it’s yours, either, so if you’d just head inside, that’d be appreciated.”

The smart move was probably to comply. Rex wasn’t inclined to cooperate anyways. He was saved from making either bad decision by...sound.

It didn’t register as singing – there was something too off about it, a combination that wasn’t quite autotune, or that polyphonic singing Echo had gotten into when Fives got obsessed with the guitar. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t right in a way that was madly distracting.

The...singing? – pulled both Rex and the goon around towards the end of the dock, and if Rex hadn’t been so muzzy-headed from that sound he would have been gaping much more blatantly.

There was someone slipping out from under the dock, and it was most definitely not one of the neighbors.

It was a trim, shirtless figure in the water – ginger indeed, short red hair just dry enough to be messy spikes. Pale skin was freckled in scales of shimmering reds, protective lines over what would be vulnerable areas on a human. It swam close enough to the surface that Rex could see the sleek fins and tail, and part of his brain kept screaming ‘mermaid!’ while the rest took in the long, sharp claws on webbed hands and whispered ‘predator.’ Its singing showed sharply pointed teeth, and it should not have been nearly that gorgeous.

The mermaid glanced over at him, eyes a deep blue-on-blue that could never masquerade as human, flicking a look up and down him that could have been flattering or terrifying – it all depended on if that was measuring him for a meal euphemistically or not.

The singing changed as the creature turned its attention back to the goon, and the magnetic pull on Rex lessened. He staggered back a step, not too surprised to find he was halfway down the dock without noticing. The hazy feeling in his brain stopped, or at least dropped down to levels that were close enough to normal, so he got a clear view as the goon started walking into the water, oblivious to everything except the mer-siren-thing he was shambling towards.

The siren moved when the goon was almost waist deep in the water, flowing forward to delicately place a hand at the goon’s throat. The singing continued, but now there was a new undertone, soft and somehow questioning. Rex couldn’t tell if there were words to it or not – maybe a whole other language for all he knew – but the goon responded, voice soft enough that he couldn’t make out what was said.

Whatever he said, it didn’t please the siren. It kept singing, but it snarled, showing more of those pointed teeth, then it twisted and dove, hauling the unresisting goon under the water.

A terrifying few moments more, and the last hums of the song seemed to stop vibrating through the water.

“What the absolute fuck?” Rex said numbly. Thank everything, no one answered.

A smart man would’ve hidden inside, or driven off to a movie theater or something – inland and away. Rex wasn’t sure why he stayed: curiosity – morbid or otherwise – shock, or a healthy disbelief in the whole debacle. He was maybe a bit too numb to not have some kind of shock, but –

He felt like he maybe deserved it. “Yeah, I can have a bit of shock,” Rex muttered to himself. “As a treat.”

Okay, he might have more than a bit. But by the time the siren poked his head out of the water again – politely out of arms’ reach – Rex had calmed down a decent degree. They just looked at each other for a bit, then the siren gave him a polite nod.

“Hello there,” he said in a pleasant, deep voice with a hell of an accent.

Rex held up a hand, needing a moment. Of fucking course the British even colonized under the goddamned sea. “Hi. You speak English.” It wasn’t quite the most inane thing he could’ve said, but his brain hadn’t managed to catch up yet.

He was talking to a goddamned mermaid who had just kidnapped and possibly eaten some mob thug who’d been trying to take Rex’s boat. It had been a day.

“You’re not the first land-dweller I’ve made the acquaintance of.”

Rex absolutely refused to make any kind of a crack about being charmed. There was too much hysteria lurking in there. “Speaking of acquaintances, you didn’t, ah, kill that guy, did you?”

The siren’s lips pulled back from his teeth a little. “I still haven’t decided what to do with him, so right now he’s out of the way.” He must’ve seen something impressive in Rex’s expression, because the angry disdain smoothed over to something more neutral. “He’s stashed in a cave I know. Enough air to breathe, but the only entrance is underwater and too far for most humans to swim without assistance.”

That was...a lot. “Thanks for the help.”

The siren smiled, an oddly sweet, bashful expression. “I’d be a very poor guest if I didn’t assist.” He cleared his throat, his expression going awkward. “Though I...suppose ‘guest’ is a bit presumptive.”

Rex grinned. “No, I spotted you a couple weeks ago – ah, I mean, sort of.” Before he could make more a hash of that, he cleared his throat. “The name’s Rex.”

The siren folded his hands together and did a little bow thing. “Obi-Wan. Pleasure to meet you.”

He wasn’t blushing. He absolutely was not blushing. “So...you in town for long?” Ok, now he was blushing, that was worst subject change ever meeting worst fishing attempt – meeting worst and wildly inappropriate pun.

Obi-Wan’s expression fell, sorrow way too visible in those non-human eyes. “I suppose you could say that. I...no longer have a home to return to.”

Definitely not a topic to change to. Right. Rex cleared his throat and shifted. “Well. You’re welcome anytime, for what that’s worth.”

The slow-growing smile didn’t remove that sorrow, but it did kindle something warm inside. This was at least three different kinds of trouble, but Rex didn’t think he’d regret any of it.

~end

#star wars #My writing #meme #trope mashup #Rex/Obi #mermaid #dogmatix #still not thrilled with how it wraps but it's certainly not the worst fic ending I've read recently #oh I'm still salty #whoops?#meanwhile there's several lines in here i adore more than is reasonable #AND I DON'T CARE

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dean-samw67 · 3 years ago

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This is Hell

Chapter 31: Season 4 Episode 5

Warnings: Illness

Words: 1749

“You found them like this?” Harper asks, staring at the burnt corpses in bewilderment. Carol walks out as they talk. Tyresse looks back at Harper and nods.

“I came to see Karen. And saw the blood on the floor… and then I smelled them.” Tyresse mumbles. “Somebody dragged them out here! And set them on fire!” He now raises his voice. “They killed them and set them on fire!” He gets up in Rick’s face. “You’re a cop. Find out who did this and bring ‘em to me!” Daryl reaches for Tyresse’s arm.

“We’ll find out who-” Tyresse yanks his arm away.

“Do I need to say it again?”

“No.” Rick shakes his head. “I know what you’re feeling. I’ve been there. You saw me. It’s dangerous.”

“Karen didn’t deserve this! David didn’t deserve it! Nobody does!”

“Alright, man let’s-” Daryl tries to stop him but Tyresse turns around and grabs Daryl by his vest and pushes him against the gate. The other three try to run up to stop him but Daryl holds his hand out at them, signaling to stop.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere till I find out who did this!” Tyresse shouts in his face. “What if that was Harper, huh?! How would you feel!?”

“I would be livid, man. But we are all on the same side.” Daryl looks Tyresse in the face.

“He’s right. We agree that whoever it was needs to be found.” Harper takes a step toward them.

“I know what you’re going through. We’ve all lost someone. We all know what you are going through. But you need to calm down.” Rick tries to reason with him.

“You need to step the hell back!” Tyresse lets Daryl go and turns around, pushing Rick away. Rick takes a second and takes a deep breath before looking at Tyresse.

“She wouldn’t want you being like this.” Tyresse punches Rick in the face and Harper jumps and gasps as she covers her mouth. Rick looks up and Tyresse lands another punch on him.

“Stop!” Carol shouts. Daryl jumps on Tyresse and tries to hold him back.

“That’s enough!” Daryl growls. Rick gets up and punches Tyresse right out of Daryl’s arms. He kicks him before getting on top of him and landing punch after punch to his face.

“Rick!” Harper shouts at him. Daryl comes up behind Rick and pulls him off.

“Let go of me! Let go!” Rick screams.

“No.”

“Let go of me!” Rick pushes Daryl off and stands up straight, looking down at his bloodied up hand as Tyresse whimpers on the ground. Harper gets down next to Tyresse as she looks up at her brother.

“Take Rick to see Hershel. I’ll take care of Tyresse.” Harper sighs, glancing at Daryl before looking down at Tyresse’s bleeding face.

“Ya sure you got it?”

“Hershel has taught me enough.” Harper nods.

“Okay.” Daryl does as asked and takes Rick to see Hershel while Harper tries to help Tyresse up. He pushes her away and gets up, walking out the gate and down toward the field. Harper sighs and looks over at Carol.

“What if the person did it to help keep us safe?” Carol asks, crossing her arm.

“Karen and David were part of us. What if it was me or you, Daryl or Rick? Or one of the kids, Carl or Alexis? Mica or Lizzy? No one deserves to die like that when this was something they could have come back from.” Harper shakes her head before walking inside.

***

They all had called another meeting. Harper was leaning back against one of the bookshelves, a little bit away from everyone else. She was hoping for the best right now as it was getting hard to breath and she was suppressing the urge to cough. She was praying that she was just imagining this but it was progressively getting worse. A few hours ago she was fine and now she can barely focus as sweat drips down her forehead.

“It’s spreading. Everyone who survived D block, Caleb, Sasha. And now others.” Hershel explains.

“So what do we do?” Carol questions. Harper tries to focus on what is going on as she tries to swallow down whatever spit was left in her mouth just to moisten her throat enough to hold back the need to cough.

“Cell block A is isolation. Keep the sick people there like we tried with Karen and David.” Hershel explains.

“What the hell we gonna do about that?” Daryl shrugs.

“We can ask Rick to look into it.” Carol looks over at him. “Try to make a timeline, who’s where and when. But what are we going to do to stop this?” Harper grips her head as she tries to quietly clear her throat.

“There’s no stopping it. You get it, you have to go through it.” Hershel sighs.

“But it just kills you.” Michonne points out.

“The illness doesn’t, the symptoms do.” Hershel explains. “We need antibiotics.”

“We’ve been through every pharmacy nearby.” Daryl says.

“There is a veterinary college at West Peachtree Tech. That’s one place people may have not thought to raid. The drugs for animals are the same we need.”

“That’s 50 miles from here. Too big a risk before, ain’t now.” Daryl nods as he stands. He looks over at Harper. He walks toward her. She holds up her hand as she steps away, her back hitting another bookshelf. Just the light force against her body forces the cough she had been holding back, out of her. She covers her mouth with her arm and turns away from everyone else as she lets out an aggressive cough that hurts her whole body. Once she stops and tries to catch her breath she sees her arm now covered in her blood.

“I’ve got it.” Harper mumbles. Daryl watches her before turning to Hershel.

“I’m taking a group out. We can’t waste anymore time.” Daryl grabs his crossbow.

“I’m in.” Michonne steps forward.

“You sure? You haven’t been exposed. Daryl has.” Hershel looks over at her.

“Harper’s already coughing up a storm, I’ve been exposed. And Daryl’s already given me fleas.” Michonne jokes. Hershel chuckles and stands up.

“I’ll lead the way.”

"Out there, it's always the same. We always end up runnin’.” Hershel sighs and nods, deciding it’ll probably be safest if he stays.

“I’ll draw you a map.” Hershel nods. “There are other precautions I feel we should take.”

“Like what?” Harper speaks up, voice raspy.

“For one, getting you to cell block A. But two, there is no telling how long it’ll be before Daryl and his group get back. We need to separate the most vulnerable.”

“And who’s the most vulnerable?” Harper asks.

“The young.” Hershel answers.

“What about the old?” Glenn crosses his arms. Hershel sighs and nods.

“Yeah.” Hershel looks at Harper. “You need to go isolate. Get some rest. You are going to be fine.” Harper nods, not believing him but walking out and heading toward the cell block. She opens the door, shutting it behind her after she walks in. She heads to an empty cell, shutting the cell door and laying on the cot as she coughs.

***

Harper had sat up in the bed, gripping her head. It felt like it was going to explode and the pressure in her lungs was making it damn near impossible to breathe. Dr. S walks to her cell and she looks up. He had been sick as well but was helping as much as he could.

“Someone’s here to see you.” Harper slides off the bed and holds herself up, using the wall.

“Thank you.” She breathes out as she exits the room and heads to the visiting room, which had a glass that kept them separated so they can still see each other. She stumbles in the room and sees Daryl standing there, biting at his nails. Harper walks over and lands in the chair that was in front of the glass. She rests her arms on the counter and leans forward. The scene broke Daryl’s heart. “Hey.”

“You look awful.” Daryl chuckles. Harper laughs a bit before coughing.

“Better than you I’m sure.” She jokes after she catches her breath.

“We have our group together. We’ll be leaving soon.”

“Daryl…” He looks at Harper, sadly.

“Yes?”

“I love you…” Harper breathes out. Daryl stares at her in shock, taken aback by those three words. “I love you and I wanted you to know before-”

“Don’t do that.” Daryl shakes his head.

“Do what?” She looks up at him through hooded eyelids.

“Talk like you are already dead.” He scoffs.

“I just want you to know. Just in case.”

“There doesn’t need to be a just in case. Because you will be fine. We will get the meds and you will be fine.” Harper stays quiet as she looks at him. “Just keep fighting. I’ll be back.” Daryl places his hand on the glass for a moment before turning to leave.

“Daryl!” Harper calls as best as her voice would let her. He turns around and looks at the sick woman, on the other side of the glass. “I love you.”

“I know.” Daryl sighs before leaving.

***

Hershel had come in to help since he couldn’t go out to help get meds and Dr. S was sick. He has brought in a tea he made with elderberries. It was supposed to help with the symptoms. He walks into the cell Harper was in and sits beside her bed.

“Here.” He helps her sit up and drink some of the tea in the cup he was holding. She gulps down some of it as a little of the liquid dribbles down her chin. Hershel slowly lays her back again, placing the cup on the floor. He grabs the damp towel he brought and places it against her forehead.

“If I don’t make it…” Harper’s voice was just above a whisper as she was trying to not strain herself.

“You’ll be fine.” Hershel reassures her.

“But if I don’t. Tell Alexis I love her.”

“I won’t have to because you will tell her yourself after Daryl and the others get back with those meds.”

“Just please, promise me you’ll tell her for me if I don’t make it.” Harper begs. Hershel sighs as he looks down at her.

“I promise. Now rest. I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.” He stands up as she closes her eyes.

Chapter 32~

This is Hell Masterlist

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years ago

Note

How about B, I, L, U, V for our big boi Theo? :3c

Sure thing, bub!! Theo hcs coming right up! 💙💙💙💙

I really hope you like them!!!! :3c

Fluff ABCs Template here for requests

Body -- What is his favorite part of her body?

Do y’all have any idea how hard it is for me to answer this letter without making this horny hours.

ANYWAY losing my mind because my instinct was to respond with “her tears.” And then my brain was like. Minnie that’s not a part of the body…that’s not how any of this works…But let’s pretend for a moment like I am valid, shall we?

No cap, I die on this hill. And my answer comes in two parts. The first reason tears destroy him like nothing else is because of how much she feels for the van Gogh brothers tbh. I think Theodorus is very accustomed to their situation being seen through a lens of indifference, a kind of “oh well, what can be done ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” especially. While he may argue that he’s used to it, he’s full of shit. It hurts every time–even more so because people are being dismissive about the person he loves most in the world (other than her, of course.) He’ll be silent for the most part, usually pretty stoic if those things come up, but the way her eyes glisten with tears just undoes him. He feels stupid to be so affected, but it’s something else entirely when somebody actually gives a damn. Somehow it's harder to keep his composure under that gaze...

The second reason is more about teasing. He can’t resist getting a reaction out of her sometimes, or seeing her brought to frustrated tears. That lovely blush overtaking the tips of her ears and face, to say nothing if it happens during nsfw hours. They make her face shine, a visible manifestation of all the emotion he tries so hard to deny–to run from–that it just moves him like nothing else. Where he can't find words or proper expression, she always does. Leonardo said once that a single glance at that man and you can tell he’s in love with art. And he was right, save that that kind of passion can be found in him again in moments like this. Alone, driving her to madness and pleasure.

It’s the part of him that belongs to her, and her alone.

Injury -- How would he act if she got hurt?

Lmao call Vincent instead of Theo if you actually want anything productive to be done about it.

I’m KIDDING mostly but to be honest I think he has a hard time hiding his distress when MC is hurt. If it’s something small he’ll try to play it off as mild irritation, muttering about oblivious hondjes and how she needs to be more careful. If it’s something like a bruise or a bandaged cut–maybe she bumped into something–he’ll just clumsily try to pat the pain away. Don’t try to hide it from him either because he has eyes like a hawk and will expose you. He’ll be a dumdum but it’s really sweet because he’ll be so gentle over such a tiny wound (it always amuses Dazai so much) that all the men will have to kind of hold back laughter. They don’t mean to mock the guy but he takes it so seriously it’s a little bit funny. Vincent is so unironically proud of him for being sensitive though and it’s enough to make a girl cry TwT

If it’s a very serious injury I am sorry but you are getting nothing but probably a panic attack from him. He doesn’t really do well with even the slightest suggestion of losing a loved one, so if she breaks a bone or experiences excessive bleeding–whatever the risk may be to her life–he is fighting to stay in control of his body’s response. He’s trying so hard to be strong for her, but he can hardly breathe and his vision is a little fuzzy and did they say she would be unconscious for a few days? Needless to say he’s a bit of a mess. Ideally, Vincent would do his best to help the guy stabilize while he waits for things to improve, but it’s touch and go for a bit there.

When she wakes up, he needs as much gentleness as she does in many respects. The stress attacks and constant distress have just resulted in so much tension and exhaustion, he doesn’t even have the energy for any verbal swipes at anyone. (I was going to say “he’s just a big puppy” but the irony hit me so hard I literally couldn’t finish typing the sentence). He just really needs lots of kisses and hand holds and promises she isn’t going anywhere, completely unprompted. Not to be emo (WAKE ME UP) but he really needs to be brought back to life slowly, in a way. He’ll get better with some time and assurance that she’s going to make it, but oTL hondje please, he can only take so many heart attacks in one lifetime.

Love -- How does he show her he loves her?

He does not.

I’m KIDDING but I stand by the fact that he’s more of a show than tell type of guy. He has a really, really hard time verbalizing everything that he feels, so I think the person he loves would ideally have to keep that in mind. He’s lowkey but very classy, imo. Gets surprise flowers every once in a while, buys groceries after work all the time if she needs things at home, always reliable with taking care of their finances (and in general). I feel like the thing about Theodorus is that he’s the quiet romantic; he won’t smooth talk or endlessly go on about love, but when she needs him? He’s there. Come hell or high water. When things are hard, when things feel impossible, when life just feels like one slap in the face after another–he’s warm and there and steady, leading her by the hand.

He's very proactive about just about anything other than expressing his feelings directly, so write that down--

Upset --How does he act when she's upset?

LMFAO catch him crashing at Vincent’s place tonight, no thanks murderous hondje ain’t it for me, sorry sweaty.

All jokes aside, I think he’s the type of guy who just has no idea how to handle it. I mean she’s the one that’s usually pretty stable emotionally, so when she isn’t it tends to be a big deal–the cause of her foul mood has got to be sizable. While he may be stymied upfront, will most likely go after the root cause of her distress and kill it with a hammer when her back is turned. Nobody upsets his hondje (unless it’s him) and gets away with it. The man has two modes: kill and more kill, and so he uses the second one as necessary in these situations.

That being said, it doesn't mean he's completely bereft of sensitivity. If it's a more sorrowful kind of upset, he'll try to make time for a lot of cuddling and pampering. Get her things she likes to eat/drink, rub her back gently, put on a movie she likes (even if it's boring to him). He hopes that some care and a few little distractions will be enough to calm her soon. He loves his hondje best when she's smiling, after all ùwú

Vaunt -- What is he proud of? Does he like to show her off?

Oh my goddddddd. Bih. If this man suffers from a cardinal sin, it’s pride I swear. Even if he’s Mr. Bad Mood Stink Face he will literally never say a bad word about her. There are so many people convinced he’s deadass got some kind of disorder because he has scary face, but also looks so delighted at the same time it's terrifying. Gets all puffed up about what a hard worker she is, how talented, how he couldn’t have done any of this without her. Even when he’s roaring drunk, now he just rambles on and cries about how much he loves her and Vincent and it’s beyond hilarious. Would throw down for her, would die for her, would steal a clown’s balloon for her–you name it.

She can do absolutely no wrong, so write that down.

Has a love hate relationship with showing her off (in the more blatant way) though because. Homewrecking. Does she look lovely in that dress? Undoubtedly so. If he sees one more gross lustful/covetous gaze directed at her though, he’s just gonna leave with her in tow. (He would throw hands but she doesn't like that.) Y’all know the whole Lord of The Rings’ “My p r e c i o u s” thing? That’s his vibe LMFAO. Depending on his mood he will either be like "hell yeah that's my wife you jealous bih, I'm the luckiest guy ever ik now buzz off" or he will just get more and more lowkey steamed until they leave.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #yall i laughed so much writing these this disaster fk kills me #the way he is just so #no💙#he's literally just that friend where you ask them to do smth #he says no #and then does it immediately #an angy legend we stan #pls enjoy all you theo thirsters #and ty for the request sweetums!!!! welcome anytime~#rambles #not incorrect quotes

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twdeadfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Vows Pt.4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

This chapter has Negan in it but also a bit flashback to when Daryl and reader met.

The next day was strange, to be there in a room at the Sanctuary, but you had to remind yourself that it could be worse. All you did was stay in the room with the other women, getting to know them more, sharing stories about your life, reminding you of your first days back at the quarry, when you met new people, so long ago. It still felt surreal, to be in a luxurious room, with food, books, magazines, booze, even DVDs, and in the apocalypse.

Yes, you knew it could be worse…you could be in a cell, like Daryl and the others, you could be starved and tortured as people had been at the Sanctuary…but yet, you hated that feeling of being trapped, and the feeling of dread only got worse when late that day, the door of the room opened and Negan walked in, already with that shit-eating grin

“Hi, ladies.”

“Hi, Negan,” the others greeted, but the words didn’t make it past your lips.

He walked around the room, sometimes approaching any of the wives, who’d smile mechanically at him, and he kissed Abby when he walked past her but didn’t stop, instead going to the sofa where Amber was drinking, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

Negan shook his head, letting out a sigh, and he sat down next to her. “Amber, darling,” he placed his hand on her cheek and made her look at him. “We talked about it, I don’t want you here if you’re going to be sad. As you all know, nobody is here against their will.” Negan glanced at you at that before looking at Amber again and you tried not to scoff. “So, if you want to stop being married to me and go back to whatever work you had to earn points for your parents, you know you can.”

“No, Negan, I want to be here, I love you,” Amber said, sounding like a robot that had rehearsed it. You wondered if Negan would expect you to say those words too, but you were sure you’re insides would burn if you ever said that.

“Good...then maybe you should stop being drunk and crying all the time, right, sweetheart?” Negan let go of Amber’s face when she nodded. “I’d tell you to come to the bedroom, have some fun, see if you feel better…but I had other plans.” Negan got up from the sofa. “Y/N, bedroom.”

You blinked, taken aback. You hadn’t thought that Negan would call for you, you had been with him last night. “Me?”

“Is there any other Y/N?” Negan gave you that shit-eating grin that you wanted to kick. “Yes, you, come on.”

“I haven’t even put on lotion today, I don’t smell like cake,” your mouth said before your brain could stop it, but Negan’s grin went to bigger, and so did the mischief in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, darling, I have some in my bedroom, I’ll lather you with it myself, get you smelling all nice for me, my little dessert,” he taunted you with that damn grin, and you bit your tongue. “Come on.”

Negan began walking to his bedroom and you looked at the other women. “Didn’t he have a wife for each day of the week?” You whispered and Tanya snorted.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Y/N!” Came Negan’s voice from the corridor, and so you took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and followed him.

You were sat down on the bed, tugging at the sheet to wrap it around you, looking everywhere but at Negan. “Can I leave?”

“No,” Negan answered and you frowned, you had expected him to say yes, maybe send someone else. You looked at him and he was smiling as if he were again trying to annoy you.

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“Talk.” Negan grinned and if he was trying to annoy you he was succeeding.

“Seriously? You want to talk to me?” You said, but then, you had always thought that Negan loved to hear himself speak, so maybe it wasn’t that strange, but probably he’d better talk to any of the other wives that were better at pretending to listen.

“Yes, doll, I feel like I should be honest with you,” Negan began, reaching to place a hand on your thigh, under the sheet, and once again you had to fight the instinct of slapping it. “I wouldn’t have killed Daryl, you know, if you hadn’t married me.”

“Yeah, sure.” You scoffed.

“I wouldn’t…Rick? Sure, I would have killed him there, in front of all of you, right that moment, I can’t let go of what he did, people need an example,” Negan kept going. “Dwight…I’d have killed that fucking rat too.”

You were about to say that you didn’t give a shit about what happened to Dwight and that he was not part of the deal, but Negan kept speaking.

“Eugine…I don’t know…” Negan hummed. “He crossed me, I want to kill him, but that awesome brain of his, I want to use it. I want to take his brain out of his head and put it in someone else’s.”

“Don’t we all,” you muttered, and Negan chuckled.

“You’re fun, Y/N…could be fun, if you weren’t so focused on hating me,” he said and you scoffed.

“Yes, because you gave me no reasons.”

Negan just chuckled again and he stretched on the bed. “I just think, if you weren’t so focused on hating me? You could see how life here is not bad at all.”

You decided not to comment on that. “So, you’d have killed Rick, Dwight, and Eugine, but nobody else,” you said, instead. “You’d have let Daryl live.”

Negan hummed and nodded. “I’d have brought him here to his cell, start right where we left it, let him see what happens when you ran away from me and go against me, so…yeah, I guess he’d have eventually died.” He shrugged and you scoffed.

“Jeez, great, that’s so much better than having killed him right there.” At least you hoped that you were keeping Daryl safe dealing with all this Negan bullshit.

“I like you, Y/N,” Negan said, throwing you off. “You get annoyed easily and when you’re annoyed you’re funny and cute.” Well…funny and cute was not what you went for when you were annoyed, but you didn’t care what Negan thought, it wasn’t like you could show him how you were when you were annoyed. “So…don’t try to find out what happens to someone when they try to run from me and go against me. It’d be a pity.”

“I wasn’t planning on,” you scoffed. “Being this charming, small wonder that you need to blackmail women so they marry you.” If Negan wanted to see you annoyed, he was going to get it.

“Oh, wow, doll.” Negan gave you that dangerous smile. “Someone has ever told you that you’re pretty charming yourself?” You just shrugged. “Look at you…you kept doggy Daryl on his toes, uh? Yeah, you wore the pants, don’t you, doll? Fuck him in the ass too?”

“If that’s what you wanted from me, you could have just say it,” you said, shrugging, trying not to let Negan get to you, and he chuckled.

“So tell me doll…doggy Daryl and you, was it love at first sight, uh?” Negan smiled, it was obvious that he was enjoying bugging you, you didn’t want to talk about Daryl. “Let me guess…he was fucking prince charming coming to the rescue and you fell right into his arms while your panties dropped to the ground.”

You really didn’t want to talk about Daryl, but you couldn’t help your snort, as you remembered…

“You crazy bitch!”

“Yeah…yeah, he was fucking prince charming when we met,” you said. “The first time I saw him, he called me a crazy bitch and almost run me over with his bike, how could my panties not drop at that.”

Then…

You were running at fast as you could, panting, but those monsters were everywhere. A couple of days ago, someone in your town had started to show those symptoms that the TV was talking about, and now, it seemed as if the whole town had turned into monsters.

You didn’t know what to do, monsters all around, when you heard what you thought was the engine of a bike. The road that crossed your town was a secondary one, barely anyone used it anymore, yet a bike seemed to be approaching.

You didn’t know what else to do, and so you ran towards the noise. It was indeed a man on a bike, who had turned out to be Daryl, but you didn’t care who he was, he was a human, someone alive, and you all but jumped in front of the bike so he wouldn’t just keep riding.

Daryl slammed the breaks in time to not run you over, turning the bike, which skidded across the pavement and ended up falling to the ground, and you stared at it in horror. Great, maybe you had killed the only alive person around.

Daryl was okay, though, and he recovered quick.“What the fuck!” He yelled as he kicked the bike off him and got up, lifting the bike again and glaring at you. “What the hell are you doin’, you crazy bitch?! Want to get killed and make me kill myself in the process?!”

“Please, help me, please,” you had been too scared to react to his words. “Please, please, they’re everywhere.”

A few walkers were already making their way to the road, attracted to the sound. Daryl grabbed a crossbow that was attached to the bike and began shooting at them, putting them down without a word to you, and then he went to retrieve his arrows while you stood there, unsure of what to do. There was a bigger group coming and you gasped at it. Daryl noticed too, making his way back to the bike, swinging his leg over it, and you wondered if he’d ride away and leave you there, what would you do.

“Come on, ain’t got all day!” he yelled at you and you nodded, rushing to get on the bike too.

No sooner had you wrapped your arms around him, tight, Daryl was already speeding up. He rode fast, faster than you had ever driven on a car, and it was a bit scary, you hadn’t been used to bikes back then, even if now it felt almost like second nature. You held to him even tighter and even buried your face on the back of that stranger to not see everything flying around you. Daryl had tensed, though you had barely noticed, busy as you were wondering if you were going to fell off the bike and die, but you hadn’t, and Daryl had kept riding for a long while, stopping only when you seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

He shook you off him and got up from the bike, looking at you, and so you got up too, feeling very awkward now. “Thank you,” you said when Daryl still just looked at you in silence. “You saved my life.”

“Yeah, and you almost killed me,” Daryl said harshly, lifting the side of his shirt slightly to inspect his skin, and you felt guilty when you noticed some bruises and rashes. “Crazy bitch…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, really, I am,” you apologized. “But those monsters were everywhere and I heard your bike, I was afraid you wouldn’t’ see me and wouldn’t stop…” Or maybe that he wouldn’t stop even if he saw you. “I thought that the monsters would tear me into pieces, the whole town is infected.”

“Mine too,” Daryl murmured and you guessed maybe that’s why he was on his own too.

“My…my family and friends…they…I saw some and they had become those things…and others were getting eaten…” You had been in shock and then you had been running for your life, you had barely had time to process all that, and now it all hit you so hard that breathing got hard. “Oh god…they’re…they’re dead…they’re dead.”

You shook as tears filled your eyes and you gasped for breath, falling onto the ground as your legs stopped supporting you, and you buried your face into your hands. When you looked up, Daryl was just standing there in front of you, silent and awkward, chewing on his thumbnail. You remembered that he had called you crazy bitch. You guessed that he still thought you were that. But he was alive while everyone else seemed to be dead, and that was a plus.

“Are you…are you going to one of those refugee and military camps that they talked about on the radio?” You asked, trying to stop crying, and Daryl shook his head. “Where’re you going then?” Maybe he had just been riding away from walkers with no destination, he’d said that his town was all infected too.

“I’m gonna find my brother.”

“Oh…okay.” You guessed that it made sense, but it sounded a bit crazy and impossible, with everything that was going on.

You didn’t know what to do yourself…you guessed you should try to go to one of those camps. You weren’t near any, though, and if everything was infested with monsters, you weren’t sure you could reach the place without being devoured, but you guessed that you couldn’t do anything but try. You got up and looked around in despair, wondering where you were, where to go, and how.

“What you gonna do?” Daryl asked harshly while you kept looking around, and you let out a hopeless sigh.

“Go to one of those camps…can you tell me where are we?” If he had a map to point it to you, it’d be so great.

“Alone?” Daryl asked and you shrugged and nodded, he could see that you were by yourself. “You got no weapons.” You shrugged again. You didn’t and you didn’t know how to use them anyway…and by the way, who was this guy who wielded a crossbow and killed monsters as if it were nothing.

“You..uh…just…get on the bike again, if you wanna,” Daryl muttered, barely audible, getting onto the bike and turning it on.

“Really?”You blinked at him.

“Yeah, I ain’t got all day, come on.”

You took a look at Daryl…he looked rough and harsh, you felt like he was trouble, he looked a bit dangerous too, in a way...he was big and strong, a bit intimidating if he might want to hurt you, but it hadn’t seemed like so, for now at least. And he was alive, such a basic thing, but now it seemed to mean everything for you. Before, you wouldn’t have gotten alone into a car with a stranger like him, but now…now you felt as if you didn’t want to be one meter away from that crossbow-wielding, rough-looking, harsh-spoken, alive stranger.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

Daryl didn’t say anything else, just nodded courtly and awkwardly, you got situated behind him, feeling shy about holding to him now that you were not in panic.

“Where’s your brother?” You felt like this looking for his brother thing was a bit reckless and dangerous, wherever his brother was, probably it was all infected too, maybe he was dead…but sure you weren’t going to say that to Daryl and be left on your own. He was alive, while everyone else around you seemed to be dead, so right now, being with someone alive seemed to be the best thing you could get.

“He, uh…was sent to the county jail, was uh…arrested a couple of days ago …guess they never made it to the prison,” Daryl explained as the bike kicked into motion, and you held tightly to him. “But he can’t be far.”

Well…that really hadn’t sounded promising at all, and you wondered why exactly had his brother been sent to jail, but you hadn’t had much choice other than going with Daryl. Little did you know then the great decision you had made.

Now…

“He called you a bitch and almost run you over with his bike, and you got all wet? Who would have thought you were into that, darling,” Negan said and you rolled your eyes.

“In all fairness, I jumped in front of his bike.” You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about Daryl.”

“No?” Negan smirked and you shook your head.

“Two nights with me and you already want to forget him…” Negan chuckled and you did your best not to roll your eyes. “Okay, whatever you wish, darling…then come here and put that sweet tongue to a better use.”

Abby had told you that this would feel like routine at some point, but you didn’t know when, and you couldn’t wait for it to feel like that, or in any way that it wasn’t how you felt then.

You had been at the Sanctuary for almost two weeks, and you had been called by Negan to sleep with him and listen to his bullshit more than a few times, but it still didn’t feel like routine and you were starting to think that it’d never do and Abby had just said that to make you feel better.

The one wife for each day of the week thing had been, indeed, bullshit. Negan would call for any of you no matter the day, though he didn’t usually had the same one in a row more than a couple of times, and most times he wasn’t content with having just one of you.

During those days, you had seen the other wives talk shit about Negan and laugh at him while you all were alone, and then, when he was there, they’d turn into the sweetest things, they’d talk to him, laugh at his jokes, boost his ego, flirt with him, anything…

You didn’t know how they did it, but it kept Negan in a good mood, and that was a good thing, an important thing, you knew it, even if you weren’t able to do that. Also, when they did their best to get Negan happy, sometimes they’d ask for things and he’d comply, whether it were stuff for them, like a book or something like that, or even stuff for the people that they had outside, a little bit more of food one day or a medical checkout without expending extra credits.

You knew you could take advantage of that too, if not for you, for your people, try to get something more for them out of this situation…but still, you couldn’t get yourself to do it. Whenever Negan called for you, you’d be annoyed and disgusted, and you didn’t bother hiding it much.

You were now watching how Noemi, sat down next to Negan in one of the sofas, was listening with rapture, or at least pretending to, to whatever Negan was telling her about his day. She laughed whenever he did one of those stupid crude jokes, throwing compliments here and there, stroking Negan’s arm or face as if he deserved the tenderness, leaned into his touches…you were honestly impressed, you still felt like punching Negan whenever he touched you. Soon, Negan was getting up, holding Noemi’s hand and taking her with him to the bedroom.

“You could do that too, you know? He’d be nicer with you and get you things.” Lila told you, and Abby too had already told you how your life would be easier and you could get more out of this if you played nice, but you hadn’t been able to get yourself to do it, so you just shrugged.

“You never told me why are you here, who are you protecting?” You asked instead.

“Nobody..well, myself.” Lila shrugged. “I have asthma, it can get pretty bad, I think I’d have suffocated by now if Negan didn’t find me my medication.”

“And in exchange, you only have to sleep with him, how nice of him.” You scoffed but Lila just shrugged.

“It’s better than suffocate.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything, instead, you poured yourself a glass of wine and busied yourself with one of the magazines that you had there. If you were trapped there, at least you planned on emptying all Negan expensive wine…petty, stupid revenge, but there wasn’t much that you could do.

Later, Noemi came back, and she made her way to Amber, who was on another sofa, drinking. “Sweetheart, Negan wants you to go now,” Noemi told her softly and Amber nodded but didn’t move. Noemi took the glass from her hand, leaving it on the table, and then tugged her up onto her feet. “Come on, go, and don’t cry again this time, okay?” Amber nodded in silence again, and made her way to Negan’s bedroom.

“He’s going to kick her out of here if she doesn’t get herself together,” Noemi said, flopping down on the sofa and taking Amber’s discarded glass of booze.

“Yeah, well, he killed his boyfriend, he should understand her crying when he makes her have sex with him,” you scoffed but Noemi just shrugged.

“He wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, no shit…”

So...yeah, that’s how reader and Daryl met, feral full of anger season 1 Daryl. This flashback will continue on the next chapter with their journey to find Merle.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

IF YOUR TAG IS IN BOLD IT’S BECAUSE I CAN’T MAKE IT WORK (AS YOU KNOW i’M MAKING A NEW TAGLIST)

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be (un)tagged please let me know.

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mammonshuman92 · 4 years ago

Text

- Watched - Pt.3

(Mammon x GN!MC)

**TW: cussing, stalking, kidnapping, religion,

Note: C/N (coworker name)

“Man, I’m starvin’. What’s takin’ so long anyway?” He grumbled, remembering the whole ‘first name basis’ thing with the delivery driver.

He was laid on his back across your bed scrolling through social media, impatiently waiting for you to return. His stomach started to growl.

“Maybe I should go check? But, MC said to stay here so no one could see me.” He said to himself, a slight pout on his lips.

He heard a small shuffling noise come from the living room, it sounded like a paper bag crinkling.

Ok, ya got the food, now don’t be tryin’ to chit chat MC, I know how ya are. I’m dyin’ in here!

The bedroom was a straight shot down the hall from the door, making it impossible to sneak a quick peek without fully exposing himself.

He could hear you talking back and forth with...Alex. He huffed to himself remembering your chumminess with the take out guy. Something just seemed weird to him about the whole thing.

Somethin’ is fishy about him always havin’ MC’s route or whatever. Does nobody else deliver for that place? I bet he’s got a crush on MC or somethin’.

“I’ll kick his ass.” He said out loud, his own thoughts making him sour.

He listened again, trying to hear what was being said. He couldn’t hear any actual words, but he could hear Alex’s voice. Barely, though.

Wait a minute.. Is he whisperin’? What’s he gotta say to MC that requires whisperin’?! I gotta get outta here.

Mammon was getting himself worked up, assuming this delivery guy was confessing his love to you. He’d nearly convinced himself to march out there and confront the creep. To hell with staying hidden!

Before he could blow his cover, he heard something hit the front door followed by more shuffling movement. He calmed down a bit, thinking the noises he heard were of you getting the food inside and trying to kick the door shut.

He impatiently waited for you to call out, telling him the coast was clear and that he could finally come eat. But, you didn’t.

After a couple minutes passed with no new noise, he grew slightly anxious.

He stood up and started pacing beside the bed, feeling antsy.

C’mon, MC. What’re ya doin’? I’m witherin’ away! Before long I’m gonna shrink up and turn into a Little D or somethin’..

Suddenly, he heard voices again. Well, just the delivery guy’s voice, still a hushed tone. He groaned to himself.

“If he don’t hurry up and go away, I’m gonna eat him instead.” He grumbled quietly to himself.

Something didn’t feel right though. Why was Alex’s voice the only one he heard? It had been at least five minutes since he heard you say something. It’s not like he just missed what you said because you were too quiet for him to hear, or you just chose not to contribute to the guy’s conversation.

You always talk, to basically anyone you come in contact with, never really knowing a stranger. He’s pretty sure you haven’t gone five minutes without talking since he met you. That’s why it seemed so weird to him.

That alone wasn’t really enough to expose himself though, was it?

To say you’ve been through a lot lately is an understatement. You’re sleep deprived and your nerves are shot. With everything that’s been going on, it would be more weird if you didn’t act a little different. He didn’t blame you for not being your usual self.

He still couldn’t shake this feeling though.

A sudden, loud noise outside got his attention.

Was that a car door?

He moved quickly, putting his back against the wall, scooting over to the doorway.

“MC? Is he gone?” He whispered.

No answer.

Screw it.

Very slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, careful not to be seen.

“MC?” He whispered again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Somethin’ is definitely wrong..

He fully emerged in the doorway, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. As he quickly made his way up the hall, he noticed the door standing wide open. He could see that an older model car was parked in front of the house and you were no where in sight.

Hand still on the door knob, he turned around to call out into the house, “MC, where ya at? Ya know ya left the door-”

Before he could finish, the car outside suddenly accelerated, kicking up dirt and rocks as they sped off.

What the..?

“Guess he didn’t like his tip..?” He whispered to himself.

He shut the door and turned around slowly, only taking a couple steps before he came to a stop. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.

“Oi, MC! D-don’t ya know you’re supposed to answer when THE Great Mammon calls for ya?” He waited, but the house was still. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears.

He walked further into the house, quickly looking around the kitchen before heading back down the hall.

Why ain’t they answerin’.. c-could it..? Nah..

“This ain’t funny ya know..” He called through the house, hoping that you’d somehow slipped past him.

Again, he was met with bone chilling silence.

Slowly, he started piecing all the little weird things that didn’t make sense together like a puzzle. The silent house and wide open door, abandoned food, the car speeding away..

The same delivery guy somehow always having this route...

His heart sank.

No, no, no, no!

He ran from room to room in a panic, desperately calling out to you, begging you to answer him.

This ain’t happenin’.. They gotta be hidin’ or something. Yeah, that’s it!

“MC! Where are ya? Talk to me, please!” He screamed, voice breaking around the hard lump forming in his throat, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.

No, it can’t be.. It can’t be..

With trembling hands, he dug his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing your number.

“C’mon, pick up. Please, please pick up.” He pleaded as he paced the floor.

His stomach dropped when he heard it ringing within the house, quickly following the sound until he found it on the coffee table where you had left it earlier. He stood there unmoving, staring at his picture and contact name with hearts on the screen, tears streaking down his face.

The weight of it all came crashing down like a tsunami, forcing him to his knees. With his face in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.

I shoulda listened to my gut when I thought somethin’ was wrong! Why did I wait so long to look for ‘em?! He took MC, he took MC! Dammit!

How did he let this happen? He was right here, right here, and he didn’t sense the danger. He couldn't protect you again, letting you fall right into the hands of the psycho creep who had been relentlessly harassing you, who was planning to do who knows what.

He had to do something. Anything.

Get the hell up! Ya gotta go find MC NOW! There’s no tellin’ what this creep is gonna try.

He stood up and wiped his face, trying to compose himself as he switched into demon form.

“I can still catch ‘em!” He made a beeline for the door, stopping abruptly as he reached the thresh hold.

“Wait, it’s the middle of the day and this ain’t the Devildom. A demon flyin’ around on a man hunt would be real bad.” He thought aloud.

People would most likely panic and if history proves anything, nothing good ever comes from humans when they panic.

He had to try and think rationally, as hard as it was. He wanted to rush in and save you as quick as he could, but going in blind without a decent plan could get you hurt...or possibly worse.

He switched out of demon form and moved back into the living room, trying to come up with an idea.

Your phone was here so he couldn’t have you tracked by GPS and he didn’t remember much about the car except that it was older. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like since he’d had to hide. All he knew about him was his first name and that he worked at a restaurant.

“The take out place would for sure have everything about him on file!” He quickly punched in the name of the place into his phone’s search engine, then suddenly paused.

“Wait a minute..I can’t just waltz in there and ask for someone’s personal info. They’d call the cops or somethin’. Damn!”

He was beginning to feel hysterical. He didn’t have much to go on and every idea he came up with was crap. A few ‘ding’ sounds from the coffee table tore him from his thoughts. It was your phone.

Someone named C/N had sent you a couple texts about work and judging by the text log, you talked to them often.

“Man, I hope this C/N knows somethin’ cause I’ve got nothin’ else to go on..”

Luckily, he remembered the name of the coffee shop, having heard you talk about work often. A quick internet search and he had the directions. He was out the door like a shot.

With his newfound breadcrumb, he was one step closer to finding you.

A bell chimed above the door when he entered the shop, alerting the worker behind the counter of his presence.

“Hi, how can I help you?” They greeted him as he walked up to the counter.

“Hey, is there a C/N here by any chance?”

“Oh, uh, yeah just a sec.” They went through a doorway behind the counter, returning moments later with another person in tow.

“Hello..? I’m sorry, do I know you?” They asked, approaching Mammon, visibly confused.

“No, but you know MC, right?” He asked, uninterested in beating around the bush.

“I’m not sure I can answer that.” They said cautiously, visibly tense.

They do know somethin’.

“Here, look.” He said, pulling up the gallery on his phone, showing them multiple pictures of you and MC together.

“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. MC has told me about you. Uh, anyway, is there something I can help you with? I need to get back to work..”

“Yeah, has MC ever mentioned anythin’ about a guy named Alex before?” He asked.

Please, please, please

“Alex..Alex..” They repeated, tapping a finger on their chin as they thought it over. “They did, actually. We went to the movies about two months ago, and ran into a guy they knew. It was their usual deliver guy I think? Said his name was Alex. He gave me the creeps.” They explained.

“Why is that?”

Yes! We’re gettin’ somewhere.

“He just seemed..I don’t know, off? And when I met him, I actually remembered seeing him a few days earlier on my way to work. There was another A.T.A. protest and I saw him in the group demonstrators. He denied being there when I brought it up, saying it had to be his doppelganger or something, but I know it was him. When we ran into him at the movies he said he had just got off work, and he was wearing the exact same shirt and hat as the day of the protest.” They informed him.

“Wait, A.T.A.? What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“Anti-Treaty Association. They’re exactly what the name suggests. Everyone involved in the exchange program is public knowledge. Names, pictures, updates on how the program was going, etc. All easily found on any search engine. If he is part of the A.T.A., why would he be friendly with MC? There’s no way he didn’t know who they were.” They said.

This Alex guy is definitely the stalker. I bet if I dig into this A.T.A. I can find him..

“Alright. Thanks for your help.” He said as he turned to leave, C/N took a few steps after him.

“Hey, uh, is MC okay? I know they haven’t been themselves lately, but uh, you coming here and asking all these questions kinda scares me..” They admitted, fear for their friend written on their face.

“MC is uh, goin’ through some stuff. I’m gonna put an end to it though.” His voice was rough, angry. His face however, was full of desperation and sadness.

Mammon thanked C/N again for their information and left the coffee shop on a new mission. He uncovered another piece of the puzzle, new information that could lead him to you.

No one knew exactly what this guy was capable of, but he had the most important piece of Mammon's existence with him. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do, in any realm, to bring you back safely. He would breach the Celestial Gates without thinking twice if it would bring you back to him.

He was going to show them exactly why he's the second strongest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

I’m comin’ MC. I will find ya, I promise.

“Get out.”

The scorching heat inside the trunk made you nauseous, and severely thirsty. You felt weak and disoriented, unable to move much. You weren’t sure how long you had been stuck in there before you finally felt the car come to a stop. The lid opened, blazing sunshine poured inside the dark space, making your eyes water and squint reflexively.

“I said, get out!” He screamed.

He wrapped his hand around your wrist hard and yanked you from the trunk, letting you drop to the ground. You were much to weak to try and brace yourself so you fell pretty hard, getting small scrapes and dirt on your elbows and forearms.

You tried to open your eyes to try and get an idea of where he had taken you, but before they could adjust to the blinding sunlight, he tied something around your eyes.

“Can’t have you trying to escape.” He said to himself, as he finished tying up your hands. The restraints were very tight, already starting to hurt your wrists.

“I’m not going to.” You said weakly, your words making him laugh.

“Well, at least your a smart demon slut. Somewhat, anyway.”

Honestly, you weren’t planning to escape. If the opportunity presented itself, you would make a run for it, but you weren’t actively looking for an escape route. However, you had no intention of giving this creep what he wanted, or giving up without one hell of a fight.

Pulling you by the restraint around your wrists, he began to drag you across the ground. He let go of you a minute or so later. He didn’t drag you very far, ending up in some kind of building judging by the change in temperature and the rough feeling of concrete beneath you. It felt a little cooler in here as if you were out of direct sunlight, but the air was still fairly hot and sticky.

You did your best to pay attention to the things around you. The sounds, smells, what little you could feel. Outside you could hear cows in the distance and some kind of humming noise. It was definitely hot, but more like that humid feeling before it storms. You could also smell it too, the incoming rain. That warm earthy smell.

You could hear Alex nearby messing with something metal, there was also the sound of running water somewhere close.

I can’t believe Alex was actually the stalker this entire time... Explains how pictures taken of me from outside my house though.. I wonder what he plans to do..

You promptly chased away those thoughts in order to keep yourself calm, replacing them with thoughts of him, the time you’d spent together along with all the memories that came with it.

How soft and fluffy his hair felt when ran your fingers through it. The way he smelled; not the Devilish No.5, although you did love it, it’s smell closely related to the famous human world version, but his smell. Crisp and clean like fresh laundry or new clothes, slightly smoky like leather because of his favorite jacket and small undertones of warm cinnamon and vanilla.

The always groaned about your selection for movie night but was the first one to get really into it. Having a concert while cooking when you had kitchen duty together, getting in trouble for talking and laughing in class and later being scolded by Lucifer for it. How he always used to complain how bad humans smell, only to find out he started buying your brand of body wash for himself and would also try to casually smell his hoodie after you’d worn it.

The thought of never seeing him again, never experiencing anymore memories like these or the chance to make new ones, kept haunting you. A hard lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? The abomination you chose as a lover isn’t rushing in to save you like Prince Charming? Imagine that.” He spat.

You ignored his sarcastic comments, wanting answers of you own, “Why are you doing this?” You could hear him walking toward you, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. The sound stopped abruptly, then he crouched down next to your head.

“I told you, you need to be cleansed.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.

He grabbed your wrist restraint again and drug you another ten feet or so. Easily picking you up and hoisting you into the air until the rope around your wrists caught on something. He let go, your full weight coming down on your restraint. You were suspended in the air, feet barely skimming the floor.

He checked your ropes to make sure it was still secure with the added weight and gravity, then he removed your blindfold. The sudden change causing you to blink several times.

Your previous assumptions had been right, you appeared to be in a warehouse that had been abandoned for quite some time. Most of the windows were broken, big vines and other foliage creeping into the building. The rusted remnants of machinery scattered around the large, open room. You looked above you to see that you were hanging from a large hook that was suspended by thick chain from a metal beam up above. Far to your left you could see what looked like a large pool or even one of those big basins you usually use to water cattle, with a hose draped over the side. There’s the source of the running water you heard.

Wait...a stock tank with water, ’cleansed’...is he going to..baptize me?

“Cleansed? That’s been mentioned quite a bit in the dozens of letters I’ve been getting. Well, you would know, huh? Since you’re the one behind it all. What I don’t understand is why?”

It came off as more sarcastic than you intended, but you didn’t really care. You had been terrified for weeks about the stalker. What would they do when they finally got to you? You haven’t truly felt alone in over a month, as if someone was always hiding in the shadows watching, waiting. Your anxiety has been through the roof and you’re in a nearly constant state of paranoia and fear.

But, now that he was in front of you, you didn’t feel scared. You wanted answers.

“Because they don’t belong with our kind. Uniting our realms is blasphemy and will throw the human world into chaos.”

‘Don’t belong with our kind’..? Whoa, what the hell..

“Blasphemy? But, the Celestial Realm is on board with it. The angels in the exchange progr-” He cut you off before you could finish, his sudden booming voice echoed through the spacious warehouse, startling you.

He stood with his back to you, facing a long metal table that looked as if it used to be a conveyor or some other piece that once belonged to one of the old machines inside the long forgotten building.

“The exchange program was a joke! Those devils just needed a good cover to get their claws on our realm so they could take it over! Using their dirty tricks and magic to bring corruption and pollute us with sin.” He stared you down like a mad man while he yelled.

This was so bizarre, he sounded insane. Like, one of those people that wore tin foil hats. This version of Alex, the real one, was scary. You would’ve never guessed in a million years that this guy was the same one that you talked about the weather and current events with a few times a week.

“None of that is even remotely true! They just want to bring peace among the realms, to prove that they are not what all the harmful, hateful rhetoric claims they are. So we can all just co-exist! That was the entire point of the exchange program! To learn about the Devildom; it’s people and culture.” You fought back.

His face twisted up in disgust, visibly becoming more and more agitated every time you spoke. He stalked closer, stopping maybe six feet in front of you, staring at you intently.

“That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to be cleansed. You’re a human, or has being a demon whore and becoming the embodiment of sin made you forget that? You are nothing but a weak, powerless human to them. A pawn in their bigger plan, collateral damage if things went wrong.”

You never cared what assumptions people made or the rumors they started regarding your stay in the Devildom. However, when the very demons you loved and cared about became the subject of people’s whispering, you were willing to fight with no intentions of backing down.

You, out of everyone, who had to live in the House of Lamentation for a year, escaped death from a couple of the brothers, helped them mend familial bonds, and held pacts with all of them, should know better than anyone, exactly who they are.

“You don’t know anything about them!” You yelled lurching forward as you filled with anger, lightly swinging back and forth where you were suspended, the thick chains above you clanking, “The things they’ve been through, they things they’ve seen. The sacrifices they had to make..” You heart ached for them. What happened during the Great Celestial War, their fall.. They’ve been through a great deal and they, along with the rest of the Devildom, are undeserving of such prejudiced hatred.

“Being demons doesn’t automatically mean they are bad people, just like being human doesn’t make you good.” You stared him down, lacing venom in your words. He squinted his eyes at you, unhappy with your implications. “That fact was thoroughly proven during my time there. Some of kindest people I have ever met, as well as the people I love and cherish the most, are demons.”

You would forever stand behind the program, your now second home, and all the friends and loved ones you made along the way. No matter what this psycho could come up with, you would not be swayed. You knew them for who they are, all Alex knew was hatred.

He scoffed at your words, walking toward you as he shook his head in disgust, eyes boring into yours. He stopped just inches in front of your face. You held onto your resolve, staring back at him intently, not letting him see that you were completely terrified. It’s what he wanted; to feel superior and pass judgement on those he deemed unworthy.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though; to feed his ego, his delusions. You refused to bow to fear, instead giving it all you had to make sure that if this was how it would end for you, you would fight against his prejudice and hatred until your final moments.

“We will start with the normal cleansing.” He backed away from you, confirming your suspicions as he gestured to the stock tank. “Although I think your soul might be too far gone for it to be completely effective.” He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.

“This may call for a more extensive purification.”

PART FOUR COMING SOON!

#obey me!#obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #trigger warning #potentially triggering #obey me shall we date #obey me angst

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