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starlessea · 4 years ago

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Here Comes the Sun: XX. More Than A Feeling (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 6480

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence, Injury.

Your head pounded like an alarm clock you couldn't shut off. The explosions hadn't done any favours for your tinnitus, either. The high-pitched ringing noise was constant, and only intensified the more you tried not to focus on it. Even now that everything had settled down, it still seemed like you could hear walls crashing around you, or feel the vibrations as the stone crumbled and settled at your feet.

Except, it wasn't brick walls that were sending shock waves over the ground; it was Daryl's footsteps as he paced. You could feel them through your own boots, and sent him a look to try and coax him to sit down.

"It's a sprained ankle, Daryl. I didn't lose my leg." You said gently, before someone cleared their throat.

You looked down at Hershel, who was in the process of wrapping the bandages, and winced as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Sorry." You muttered, awkwardly.

Everything had gone mostly to plan. The governor and his men had been driven away, and the others had returned from Woodberry with even more survivors. You hadn't gotten the chance to see them yet, but the ruckus drifted up the stairs and you could feel the marching of the stampede as though they had been part of the army themselves.

The prison remained standing, albeit missing a watchtower and seeming a bit dilapidated in a few places - but your home was once again yours. You'd sacrificed so much for it. Lori, T-Dogg, Axel, Oscar, and Merle had all lost their lives just so that you could sit here now, complaining of flesh-wounds and mild injuries like they were the most perilous problems you could face.

Daryl didn't seem to agree, however, and narrowed his eyes at you - or more specifically, at the bandage wrapped around your head. You'd taken a bit of a fall, but it wasn't like you'd cracked it open. Though, that didn't stop the man from treating you like Humpty Dumpty - trying to fix all of your pieces despite them not actually being broken.

"I don' care!" Daryl yelled, and you felt Hershel flinch as he made another pass with the bandages.

The man slung his crossbow onto the mattress, and you felt the bed dip beside you from the weight of it. His face was all scrunched up into a scowl, and you wanted nothing more than to hold it in your hands and bring his cheek to yours.

"What the hell d'ya try an' pull tha' for?" He asked, but this time his voice had lost its fight. "You could've gotten yerself killed." Daryl said quietly, like it almost killed him to say, too.

The older man stayed silent as he continued to do his job, and you felt guilty for having let him get caught up in this.

"But I didn't." You reminded Daryl, before shooting a light-hearted smile his way. "Certain victory, remember?"

Your eyes glanced down to his hand, and at the shoddily drawn rune you'd given him with a sharpie earlier in the day. He didn't say anything back, but his pacing had stopped - and he looked straight at you as you spoke.

"And although the governor got away, don't you think he'll be easier to find with a bullet in his shoulder?"

If you had anything to show for your injuries, at least it was that. You offered a teasing smirk to the man - one that probably made him wonder if you had a concussion.

"I think I know a pretty good tracker, too." You joked, nodding in his direction.

Daryl didn't smile back. You watched as the man took a seat next to you on the mattress, and noticed the way his eyes rested on Hershel as he tended to your injuries better than he could have.

"Ya should've followed the plan." He mumbled, so quietly that you barely caught it.

You let out a sigh, unable to hide your guilt. Daryl had an expression you'd only seen him wear once before, and you didn't like it in the slightest.

"I had a clear shot." You reasoned timidly, like you were trying to convince yourself of your words.

You had done; it was true. Except, you should have taken a moment to consider your actions. You thought that you were in fact the hypocrite - since when the time came, you'd been the one to shoot first, and ask questions later.

"If my aim was a little better we wouldn't even be having this conversation." You told him, and offered a sheepish smile alongside it. "I'm sorry I missed."

Hershel tightened the knot as he finished wrapping your foot. You lifted your leg and outstretched it to examine his work. Tentatively, you wiggled your toes, and thanked the man when you felt no pain in doing so. Daryl sent a nod in his direction too, before turning back.

"I don' give a damn if ya missed." He told you, barely above a whisper.

Hershel ushered himself out of the room as quietly as he could manage, trying not to intrude any longer. As soon as he'd left, Daryl let his head drop onto your shoulder, and you could feel his warm breath over the crook of your neck.

"I only care tha' yer alive." He admitted, mumbling against the skin there. "I can't lose you, too."

You leant back against the man. He seemed so downtrodden, but for the first time since the farm, you felt safe. You remembered that first night after you'd cleared the prison, sitting out in that field around the campfire. You'd asked him then if he thought this could be your home. Now, you decided, it was.

"Have more faith in me, Dixon." You told him, and stroked his hair - letting your nails run along his scalp gently. "I think I must be pretty hard to kill."

Despite the head injury, the events of that morning were as clear as day to you - as clear as the cloudless sky had been when you all took your positions. The strategy had been to ambush them when they came, and you had been the one to dissuade Rick from utilising the watchtowers.

"They'll be their first target." You'd said, and luckily he had listened.

You and Daryl had been checking the guns, before deciding to take one last walk around the perimeter. You'd scouted their vehicles en route to the prison, so you knew it was only a matter of time before all hell would break loose. The day was otherwise serene, and you hoped that once all of this was over you'd get the chance to revel in the sunshine and celebrate your certain victory.

You smiled over at the man, remembering what you'd wanted to tell him. The two of you were checking for breaches in the fences, making sure that the governor's men couldn't infiltrate from anywhere you wouldn't expect. You watched as Daryl pulled on the lattice wire to make sure it was secure, and you slipped your hand into his other, free one.

He gave you a subtle glance, but didn't make any sarcastic remarks in return. The two of you walked hand-in-hand alongside the fences, as though you were going on a mundane, morning stroll in the sun. It was silent, and you both seemed to just bask in the peace whilst it still lasted. Though, once you had gone full-circle, and had ended up back where you'd started, you stopped in place.

You fished around in your pocket and pulled out the sharpie you'd scavenged from Glenn earlier in the day. Daryl looked at it suspiciously, but let you do as you pleased - just like always. Carol had noted how much of a soft spot the man had for you, and you couldn't even deny it at this point. The two of you had woken up entangled in each other this morning, and it had taken you the better part of half an hour to coax him to let you get up. You could tell he was scared of what the day would bring. Despite claiming to be a man 'not scared of nothing,' you knew that Daryl Dixon was afraid of one thing above all else - and that was losing you.

"Give me your hand." You instructed, and pulled the cap off the top of the pen with your teeth.

The man eyed the permanent marker, before looking down at your interlocked hands.

"Yer holdin' it." He grumbled, and you rolled his eyes at his dry humour.

"The other one." You clarified, pointing in the direction. "It needs to be on the same side."

You took his hand in yours before he had time to question you further, and pressed the sharpie to it. You drew the simple pattern, watching as the ink bled out slightly over the cracks in his skin.

It was the same rune of Týr that you had tattooed on your hip - the one Daryl claimed 'looked like an arrow.' He stared at it once you'd finished, stretching out his fingers before balling his hand into a fist. Maybe it was a little childish to want to wish him luck in this way, and you thought that Daryl was a man quite capable of victory by himself, but you'd wanted to do it nonetheless.

"Look, we match." You exclaimed with a smile, but the words felt familiar on your tongue.

Daryl must have thought so, too, as you saw some kind of recognition flash behind his eyes. Then, you remembered it. The memory washed over you like a wave coming onto shore. It had been back on the farm, where you lay next to each other on that springy, double bed. He'd had an arrow wound in his side, and your bullet hole matched it nicely. You'd pointed it out to him with a grin, too doped up on medication for your own good. It felt so long ago - back when you'd been more young and naive to the world, and he'd been more angry at it.

"I guess some things never change." You admitted, and you could tell that he understood.

You felt him squeeze your hand, and looked back down at the semi-tattoo you'd drawn haphazardly.

"An' other things do." He replied.

When the first explosion rang out, your mind immediately thought back to that moment. The front left watchtower had been decimated, just as you had predicted, and the tanks began to roll in through the field. Whilst some of the group were hidden away in the prison interior, waiting to ambush those who came in, you stayed outside with Maggie and Glenn - ready to catch any stragglers who made it back out.

Daryl hadn't wanted you to be in the thick of it, and you could tell why. From the looks of it, the governor's army was partially made of toy soldiers. From your position, you could make out young boys and girls barely through their teenage years, and adults who looked like they had never held a weapon before. You would have found it hard to kill them - even if you needed to.

From your hiding place, however, you couldn't see the governor. The group was too dense, and he was probably lurking somewhere in the middle - just like the coward he was. You stared down the scope of your rifle, trying to get a better view. All around you, you could hear the sounds of crumbling stone, and the flicker of flames as they burned the tower to the ground. There had only been a couple of warning rounds shot at the building, but they'd done more damage than you were comfortable with. You just hoped that Daryl and the others were alright inside.

The whole thing seemed to last a couple of minutes at most. As quickly as the group had entered the cellblock, they were forced back out in a shroud of smoke and gunfire. Maggie and Glenn had their guns aimed, but it looked to be a clean retreat. The govenor's makeshift suicide army had all turned back, and were fleeing into the forest - so you didn't shoot at them.

That had been the plan anyway, until you caught sight of a familiar eyepatch and the man who wore it. You jumped up from behind the bushes like someone had set them alight, and ran over to the wall for cover. Maggie and Glenn shouted at you, but you continued until you reached it. It was part of the fence you'd reinforced with steel, and you ducked behind it to peer through the gunhole.

The man was returning back to the tank, mowing down anyone who got in his way. You stared through your rifle scope, finger hovering the trigger. You would have pulled it, but a civilian got in your line of sight at the last second.

"Shit." You whispered, below your breath, and slung the rifle back over your shoulder.

You hopped the fence and started running, making your way to the blazing watchtower that was set alight like a torch. The base was still steady, and it provided good cover whilst allowing you to move in closer. The calm summer's day had been transformed into a warzone in a matter of minutes. Shouts and gunfire rang out around you as you dashed to the burning building. When you reached it, you quickly ducked down and pressed your back to the stone as you set up your rifle.

It hasn't been part of the plan; you knew that. Though, you didn't just want to let the man walk free, either. If you weren't the one to do it, it would be someone else - perhaps Rick, or Michonne, or even Daryl. You wanted to pull your weight, especially if it meant that their shoulders wouldn't have to bear the burden of it.

The tower creaked and groaned above your head, and your eyes quickly glanced upwards to catch sight of the flames that licked the sky - creating an amber haze that resembled sunset. You ignored the sound, and locked onto the governor once again. This time, he was clambering into the vehicle, and you knew that it would be your last chance. Your line of sight was clear, and so you let your finger squeeze the trigger - and felt the jolt of the gun as it hit back against your shoulder.

The bullet connected, and you watched the man stagger backwards. He turned to face your direction, and your gazes caught for a split second - like you could see it all unfold in slow motion. Then, you heard a crash, and time resumed as normal.

Glass shattered above your head and fell onto you like jagged raindrops, and the stone debrid came following like lightning after it. The tower shifted, and you watched it crumble for a brief moment before the adrenaline kicked in. You abandoned your rifle and jumped up, starting to run in the opposite direction. Rubble came pouring down and bounced over the concrete at your feet. You felt small pieces nick your legs, but continued to sprint as you heard Maggie and Glenn call your name in the distance. You couldn't outrun the collapse, but you'd managed to dive behind one of the fences just in time to shield yourself.

You'd squeezed your eyes closed as the tower fell, and huddled your knees to your chest to protect yourself. The stone structure made the most almighty crash as it caved to the ground, and suddenly the courtyard was completely shrouded in dust. It wasn't until the smoke cloud had settled and you recognised figures emerging from the fog that you realised you'd made it.

Your head stung, and you pressed your fingers to your temple only to notice that something had drawn blood there. You must've been struck by some stray piece of rubble, you thought. You were a bit dazed, but you could make out voices clearly as they shouted your name. You recognised one in particular, and your heart sped up in response.

"C'mon, Teach!" Daryl yelled, but you couldn't pin-point where from.

You tried to call back, but your throat was dry and your voice barely made its way out of your lips.

"Can ya hear me?" He shouted again. "Call out to me if ya can hear me!"

Clearing your throat, you tried again.

"Daryl!" You screamed, and this time it resonated. "I'm here!"

You noticed a shift in the fog, and figures got clearer as they made their way through it.

"I'm over here!" You yelled again, your voice breaking over the words.

The man came running over to you as soon as he could tell where you were. You'd been hidden behind the sheet of metal, sat amongst a pile of debrid, but he still found you. You could feel the fresh blood trickling down your forehead, but you wiped it away with the back of your hand and sent him a watery smile of pure relief. Daryl took in the sight, and the way your foot seemed to be turned in an awkward angle beneath you - and his eyes widened.

"What did you do?" He asked, rushing over to your side in an instant.

You looked back at him with an equally dumbfounded expression.

"I shot him." You admitted. "I shot the governor."

After Hershel had left your cell, you and Daryl stayed sitting on the mattress together for a little while. You let him rest his head over your shoulder, which soon turned into lying on your chest as you both slumped back into the pillows. It was a little different from what you were used to, but you held his head and stroked his hair gently. You thought that he needed the comfort, and you were fine with being able to return it for once.

Maggie and Glenn had informed you that they'd seen everything go down - and that you'd actually hit the governor in the shoulder, rather than his chest. It was a bitter disappointment, but they'd reassured you that you'd still done a good job - after they'd given you a scolding, that is. You weren't entirely sure what had possessed you to do it - to abandon the plan. Maybe it was the images of a beaten Glenn and an inconsolable Maggie that you weren't able to rid yourself of, or perhaps it was the nightmares you had of cowering beneath Axel's body. More likely, it was the recent death of Merle, and what it had done to Daryl as a result. Whatever it was, you didn't regret it. The governor had deserved everything that was coming for him, and you'd just happened to be the one to pass the sentence.

Daryl's eyelids seemed heavy, and his breathing had evened out. You knew that if you didn't rouse him now, he'd probably fall asleep within a matter of minutes. It was selfish, but you didn't want that. You wanted to celebrate your victory - no matter how certain it had been.

"I'm sorry, Daryl." You whispered, and gently moved his hair back from his face.

The man inhaled sharply, and you watched his eyes flicker as they adjusted to the light. You let out a soft chuckle, which you were sure he could feel resonate through your chest.

"Can you help me down the stairs?" You asked sweetly, hoping to coax him awake. "I want to meet everyone."

He'd already carried you out of the rubble once today, but you hoped he'd be generous enough to lend you an arm as you hobbled down the metal steps. Daryl sat up and stretched his neck side to side before glancing over at you, his eyes immediately resting over your bandaged forehead to check it was still alright. You offered a smile to reassure him, and eventually the man nodded in return.

"It's gonna get a lot nosier 'round 'ere." He grumbled, but it didn't sound like he really minded.

Daryl had your arm slung over his shoulder as you both attempted the stairs. His other hand was on your waist for support, and he waited patiently as you took each step - going along with your pace. You'd heard the commotion from your cell, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer amount of people that had been brought back from Woodberry.

As your foot hit the final step you were greeted by an unexpected round of applause, interspersed with the occasional cheers. You almost stumbled back in shock, but Daryl caught your arm before you could trip.

"There she is!" Glenn yelled over the crowd. "Our suicidal sniper."

You shot Daryl a side-eye glance, but the man just shrugged in response. Your gaze ran over the unfamiliar faces as they smiled, or looked at you curiously, and you suddenly felt inadequate in comparison. You stood leaning against Daryl in your dusty clothes and bandages, and sheepishly lowered your head as they stared. Eventually, Daryl shooed them all away, warning them to 'get out of your face.'

It made you laugh, and you aimed some teasing remarks in his direction - pestering him if he'd like to become your bodyguard. The chatter buzzed around you like nothing you'd ever heard before. Even in the old world, the atmosphere couldn't compare. You didn't know how long it had been since you'd even laid eyes on so many people at once. You knew that you'd have to clear out some other cell blocks just to make room for them all. This was the start of something; you just knew it.

Someone called your name from amongst the fray, but Daryl didn't stop ushering you over to a nearby seat. You whipped your head around in confusion, but continued to shuffle along until you had the opportunity to sit down. He leant against the table next to you, resembling a diligent guard dog. Daryl was the most loyal man you'd ever met, and everyday he reminded you not to settle for anything less. You wondered how anyone could ever come close to him - past or present. Your ex had been a mere speck of poorly-chosen dust in comparison to Daryl Dixon.

The man seemed to be able to read your thoughts, as he glanced in your direction with perfect timing - causing you to look away. You heard your name through the thick of the crowd again, and this time tried harder to locate the source. Only a few seconds later, someone emerged from the centre of the room, pushing past everyone so that she could get to you.

The woman had neat brown hair to her shoulders, and was wearing a sundress that looked like it had been recently pressed. All of the former Woodberry inhabitants looked clean, but she definitely stood out due to how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a warm coffee colour, and her smile was bright as she looked over at you.

You choked on your words, immediately standing up only to stumble into Daryl's shoulder. He quickly got a hand under your arm to steady you, but had a disapproving expression on his face as he did so.

"Vanessa?" You spluttered out, and she gave you an excited nod in return.

Daryl barely had time to step aside before the woman bounded up to you and flung her arms around your neck. She squeezed you so tightly that you forgot how to breathe, but you hugged her back with the same force - clasping your arms around her back.

You were utterly speechless. The last time you'd seen the woman, the two of you were witnessing the complete horror of your camp being destroyed. You'd looked for her in the days following, but she'd seemed to simply disappear into the night. You hadn't even thought she'd made it out alive. She'd been your colleague before all this, and then your campmate. But, most importantly, she'd been your friend.

You stared at her as she pulled away, and she giggled at your dumbfounded expression. Her smile was as pretty as you remembered, and you suddenly felt pale in comparison to her rosy cheeks and honey complexion. She was as quick-witted as ever, and wasted no time in regaining her composure to tease you like you'd never even spent any time apart.

Daryl watched in silence, not wanting to interrupt, but you could tell that he was starting to put the pieces together.

"You were the one who shot him?" She asked, as though in utter shock.

She had her hands on either of your shoulders, and looked you up and down before settling over your one foot that you kept hovering above ground.

"Yeah." You replied sheepishly, and glanced off to the side.

The woman slapped your arm in disbelief, and Daryl shot her a warning look that made you snort. She looked over at the man, too, and raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth happened to you?" She questioned, meeting your eyes this time.

You stared at the floral pattern of her sundress, secretly wishing you had something equally as pretty, and shrugged.

"Well, I hit my forehead and sprained my ankle-" you started, but the woman cut you off.

"I don't mean that." She remarked, with a disapproving tone.

She sounded the same as she did on those days you'd spend your lunch breaks together, or go and get coffee at the local shop - trading gossip and work secrets. She grinned at you mischievously, and it didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

"Where is the timid girl who sang 'Yellow Submarine' to us from her tent every night?"

The man beside you was the one to laugh this time, and you jabbed him with your elbow in response.

"I really do miss that tent." You mumbled under your breath, and thought you could hear Daryl weakly protest below his.

Vanessa eyed the two of you, and her mouth upturned into a grin you recognised all too well. It was the one she wore when whispering to you about cute baristas, or when sliding her number across the bar.

"And who's this?" She said, in a tone that was equally as familiar.

She turned to face Daryl, and gave him a quick once-over like she was checking for any visible flaws. You couldn't contain your laugh; she always did lack subtlety.

"This is Daryl." You told her, and slipped your hand into his. "My-" you paused, furrowing your eyebrows as you did, "boyfriend?"

It came out like a question, and Daryl snorted uncharacteristically from beside you.

"'M too old for tha' word." He grumbled, but it was still light-hearted.

You took the opportunity to have some fun, and pressed your chest against his arm as you got closer to his ear.

"What do you want me to say, then?" You asked teasingly. "My partner? Sweetheart?"

The man seemed completely taken aback to hear you call him anything besides 'Dixon.'

"My other half? The old ball 'n chain-" you continued, but were abruptly interrupted as he shrugged you off in embarrassment.

"D'you wan' another head injury?" He asked - a little too quickly and a lot too loudly.

Vanessa laughed her usual dainty laugh, and you'd almost forgotten that she was even there. Daryl's cheeks were dusted a light pink, and you knew he would remind you of this later when you were alone.

"You two are good together." The woman spoke, causing you to look over in her direction. "I'm glad you found someone in all of this."

You gave her a shy smile, before looking down at your feet. You'd never been good with compliments, but she always seemed to have an abundance of them to give.

"After everything you've been through," she went on, this time glancing over at Daryl with a look that could only be described as approval. "You really deserve someone who can make you happy."

Happy. That is what this feeling was. You'd almost forgotten what the word meant, but you were suddenly reminded. Daryl had made you feel a lot of things since you'd met him - first a lot of nerves and sometimes even frustration, but eventually it became comfort and security. However, you realised that all along there were moments of happiness. Even back at the farm, the man never did fail to make you laugh - intentionally or unintentionally. Whether it was his dry sense of humour, or the wise-cracks he'd make in those days where he seemed younger, and more willing to fight the world.

You looked over at the man like you'd only just come to the most obvious of realisations. Daryl Dixon made you happy - like nothing else had before.

As the night started to settle down, the atmosphere fizzled away along with it. Everyone had taken to their temporary sleeping arrangements, and you could tell that Daryl was holding back his yawns as he helped you clamber over the people left chatting on the floor. The day felt like it had gone on for a week, and you couldn't wait to just sink into bed and let your bandaged head meet the pillows.

Across the block, you spotted Rick talking to some of the new residents, and urged Daryl to return to the cell ahead of you. The man glanced down at your foot and then back up to your eyes, as though needing to state the obvious. You shook your head, telling him that you'd get Rick to help you up the stairs once you were done. You just wanted to talk to the officer briefly, and didn't want to keep Daryl up any longer than he needed to be.

He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he left you propped up against the wall where you instructed him to. His stubbornness had definitely rubbed off on you, you'd realised, and he could hardly attempt to fight against it.

"Deputy Grimes!" You called, once Daryl was out of ear-shot. "Get over here for a second."

The man looked up from his conversation, and you watched him excuse himself before making his way over. He looked equally as exhausted as the rest of you, and stepped heavily over the stone floor. Still, he gave you a small smile as he approached, and squeezed your shoulder.

"You did good today." He drawled, praising you for the second time tonight.

You rolled your eyes and slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

"Don't let Daryl hear you say that." You warned, with a teasing look. "I could have died, remember?"

You'd said the words in Daryl's Southern accent, impersonating the man the best you could. Rick laughed in response, and you quickly glanced over your shoulder just to double-check that the archer wasn't still looming there.

"Never knew him to be so uptight." The officer replied, and you shrugged.

"He just needs a good night’s sleep." You explained, glancing over at the staircase leading to the second floor. "I think we all do."

Rick especially seemed like he was dead on his feet, but he held it together well. You couldn't imagine the pressure he felt having to keep everyone safe during times like these. You wanted to ease that burden a little, or even just throw some distractions in the mix to make him forget about it.

"Anyway, I heard that Glenn found a camera at Woodberry." You started, watching as he raised an eyebrow at you.

A few hours ago you'd hijacked it, and briefly kidnapped the Grimes children for that photoshoot you'd been threatening. The polaroid had turned out even better than you'd hoped - and you had almost been tempted to keep it for yourself.

You pulled the picture from your pocket, careful not to bend it, and passed it to the man. His eyes squinted as he looked at it, flat atop his palm. Both Carl and Judy were sporting their sheriff's hats, and the older Grimes had his sister perched on his lap.

"Thank you for everything you've done for us, Rick." You told him, and watched as he brought the picture closer to his face. "I'll never forget how you were always there for me."

It was rare that you ever saw the man speechless, but in that moment you were sure you saw a glimpse of the same Rick Grimes you'd first encountered back at the farm - that officer friendly who would give anything for his family.

He shook his head wordlessly, before tucking the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He said quietly, before slinging one of your arms around his neck. "And I don't think you ever will."

You returned to your cell soon after that, bidding the officer goodnight at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before reminding you to change your bandages in the morning. You laughed in response, wondering why all the men around you treated you like glass.

The room was quiet as you ducked under the sheet hanging at the doorway, and you shuffled inside. Daryl had lit the small lamp on the table, and it cast a warm, golden glow over him where he lay. He had his eyes closed, but you noticed he had your headphones on - connected to the walkman that was left at the edge of the mattress.

You could hear the faint din of the music as some sound escaped, and slowly made your way over to the bed - not wanting to startle the man. He was still fully dressed, and had his arms tucked under his head as he lay on his back. You didn't think he was asleep; rather, he seemed to be waiting for you.

You knelt down onto the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your weight as you crawled up beside him. He didn't react, so you pulled one side of the headphones from his ear, and brought your lips close to it.

"Boo." You whispered, and blew hot air there to make him shiver.

This time he cracked an eye open, and pulled you down beside him gently. He continued to be mindful of your head, and plumped a pillow up for you to lay on. He then removed the headphones, and twisted the ends of them so that the speaker parts were facing outwards.

You chuckled at the action, suddenly thinking back on your childhood where you'd share a pair with your friends. Daryl placed them in the space between the two of you, so that you could both listen to the songs together. You heard something by The Beatles play muffled, and closed your eyes to take in the melody.

The two of you talked briefly, and sleepily, for a bit. Daryl grumbled about you using him as a makeshift crutch for the majority of the night, and you just hummed in response. You caught him glancing over at you every now and then, but he made no attempt to pull you closer like he usually would have. You knew it was because of your head; he didn't even have to tell you.

"Hershel said it might leave a small scar." You told him, like it was a secret you felt needed to be disclosed.

You didn't really mind all that much, but you knew Daryl had a tendency to look at you guilt-stricken whenever he saw you injured. You just wanted to warn him - just in case.

"Like Harry Potter or some shit?" The man mumbled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Maybe." You replied.

The chatter downstairs had settled, and all that remained was the tinny sound of the music that quietly played near your ear. You swallowed thickly, staring up at the ceiling to see the uneven cracks that marred it.

"Will you still love me if I have a gawdy scar over my forehead?" You asked teasingly - but a part of you felt nervous to hear the response.

Then, your eyes widened as you realised your choice of words. You sat up, immediately feeling the blood rush to your head as you did so.

"Wait-" you stuttered, noticing the man's expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

He cut you off before you could finish.

"I will."

You blinked, but he pulled you back down to him - this time letting you lay your head gently over his chest.

"Know I ain't said it before, but-" he paused, "I love ya."

His heartbeat pounded quickly against your cheek, as though proving his words.

"I love ya so goddamn much, so don't ever pull that shit on me again."

You felt tears start to well up in your eyes, and hoped he couldn't feel them dampen his shirt.

"I love ya - you crazy woman who shot the governor an' took a bullet for me."

You swallowed thickly, trying to hide the wateriness of your voice as you responded.

"I love you too, Dixon." You admitted, wondering why you hadn't done so before.

You'd loved the man almost as long as you could remember; but it was one thing to love, and another thing to be loved in return.

"I won't let anything on this earth take me away from you." You mumbled against him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Daryl breathed in deeply, and you moved along with the rise and fall of his chest. This is what happiness felt like, you decided. Happiness wasn't as perfect as you had once thought it to be - back in the old world. It wasn't that amazing job, or the hard-earned paycheck, nor was it the men who called you pretty whilst giving you an ugly stare. Happiness for you was now walking around the perimeter of a dingy prison, hand-in-hand, as you stared up at the morning sun preparing for a fight. Happiness was those nights you'd stay awake, listening to the laughs down the hall of Maggie and Glenn as they whispered about their future together, and noticing that Daryl was eavesdropping, too. Most importantly, happiness was the man who you woke up next to, and the sound of his voice as he told you 'good morning.'

You looked down at his hand, resting on his chest, and saw the ink there that had smudged throughout the day. The walkman finished its tune, and there was a brief, few-second silence before it skipped to the next one. A familiar melody rang out, and Daryl placed a careful kiss over your hair.

"I like this song." He whispered against you, and you nodded in return.

"Yeah, me too."

A/N It took 20 chapters, 120k words, but they finally exchanged their ‘I love you’s.’ I think it was obvious that they already loved each other before this, but hearing them say it out loud just-

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whxreforsvkvna · 4 years ago

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mirage errone pt. 3 || bakugou x reader

genre: Princess!reader x bandit!Bakugo, ft. Bakusquad

warnings: all bnha characters are above 18+ (unless otherwise mentioned), multi-chapter, minor (and some major) swear words here and there throughout fic thanks to Bakugo, Bakugo isn’t as rough as he is in canon

word count: 1.3k

prompts: in which a self-proclaimed good-hearted bandit group kidnaps the wrong princess

prev || next

You lost track of how much time was spent travelling. You assumed their hideout was located somewhere deep in the forest as the rustle of trees and the snapping of fallen branches were your only indication of constant sound.

The men rarely spoke with each other - presumably because of your presence. You feared hearing even just a sliver of information about your captors could result in your untimely death. It wasn’t as if you weren’t afraid at the moment, because you most certainly were.

You were ripped away from the safety of your home and are now in the hands of ruly men whose main goal was unknown. Is this a hostage encounter? Bibimi and yourself were briefed as children on what to do in situations like these.

The basic rules were to be followed: Remain calm, always comply with the enemy, never provoke your captor, and do not unveil secrets of the Royal Family.

You could proudly say the last one would stay unbroken, but as for the others… Well, we can leave it at that.

“Just up ahead now.” One announced, bringing your senses into high alert. You felt your heart rate pick up and the familiar feeling of your anxiety began to seep its way back into your chest.

Your horse came to an abrupt stop after its owner’s command, causing your body to shift forward. To your horror, this small action was enough to start a chain reaction where your body began to slide off the saddle and in your blinded and immobile state, there was nothing you could physically do to stop it.

Your legs began to dangle loosely off the animal’s side and your entire figure tensed up in the moment, your body unsure of how else to react to the situation. You felt yourself slip further off the horse and with gravity’s help, your body fell.

Your mouth flew open for a shriek yet it stayed lodged in your throat as you felt yourself fall against something that was definitely not the ground. Arms wrapped themselves around your midsection, causing your muscles to run taut and still. No one had dared to ever touch you in such a forward way.

You lurched forward, escaping the person’s arms only to bump into the horse - it snorted in response to your bruteness.

“Easy there.” You weren’t sure if the new voice - a male’s, you noted - was talking to the animal or to you. “Hold still for a second, will you?”

Hands were placed roughly on your shoulders, guiding you to turn around in your spot. The same pair helped untie your blindfold, allowing you to finally take in your surroundings. Upon the harsh glare of the sun, you turned your face towards the ground, eyes involuntarily closing shut.

After this quick action, you bring yourself to look up and your gaze is captured by captivating brown eyes. They’re squinted, with eyebrows furrowed to top the look of scrutiny off. Their owner’s appearance is rough-looking; with his mouth pressed in a thin line, jagged spikes of blond locks, and red eyes scanning your own. You curse yourself for having the simple thought of him being attractive.

“I assume the trip wasn’t to your liking?” he questioned, the corners of his lips curling further downwards. His voice is unsurprisingly deep - the last trait to complete his rugged look. “We figured you were used to horseback riding, in one way or another.”

He motioned to his companions, who were finally unmasked and you sent hard glares to the duo. The blond grinned at you while he unloaded their traveling packs on the horses.

The other simply shrugged, “It wasn’t as difficult as you made it out to be, by the way. After figuring out which room was hers, it was smooth sailing from there.”

“I apologize for the easy finding.” You retorted. “We will try to the best of our efforts to make it harder for you next time.”

“There won’t be a need for the next time.” He simply laughed before heading off further into the forest. Your body flushed with heat as you quickly grew angry at his words.

“Don’t pay mind to him. He likes to tease.” You looked back to the man in front of you.

“And who should I pay attention to, then?”

“Well, that all depends on you, Your Highness.” he teased and you cringed at the title. He grasped your hands, and it’s only then that you noticed the dagger in his hand. You flinched away, trying to escape his grip. He grunted, pulling your hands back, “Hey, don’t move. I’m just trying to cut the restraints. I don’t need to nip you and have you bleed.”

He skillfully tore the bounds in one smooth motion and your wrists cried out in relief. Out of reflex, you rubbed the irritated skin, hoping to ease the sudden numbing sensation.

The man seemed to take notice of this. “Jiro is good at aiding us with cuts and the sorts. She should have something for the discomfort.”

Why would someone who was in the same group as your captors want to help you? You found it hard to believe his intentions came from sole kindness. You were most likely here for ransom, so there was the possibility they would want you with little to no harm done.

“You’ve got the horses, Denki?” he spoke out to the man that was tending to the animals.

“Yeah, I’ll bring them back to the nearby town first thing tomorrow.” his comrade replied.

“We’ll be heading back now, then. Don’t waste any time.” With that, he signaled for you to follow him before heading off in the same direction his other companion did moments earlier.

For a brief moment, you debated on running. But one glance at the way the blond was monitoring your movements and the one ahead of you didn’t turn back to see if you were following him, you knew they were confident in stopping your escape.

So, you found yourself fighting against dangling branches and unearthed roots - an environment you were completely new to. You had never stepped foot off the palace grounds until now.

A bastard royal was not allowed to make public appearances unless it were balls held within their own castles. Even then, you only had a mere hour or so before the Queen was ushering you back into your bedroom chambers, cheeks flushed pink from lingering stares that followed your escaping figures.

It was after the umpteenth time you tripped on an uprooted tree branch, that the man in front of you spoke up.

“Here,” you looked up to see him offering a hand, “You’re slowing us down with all the clumsy steps you’re taking”

“I’m fine.” You brushed his aid away, refusing to accept anything from this criminal.

“Whatever Your Highness wants.” He rolled his eyes, continuing onwards. It’s quiet between you two, before he spoke up once more to your growing annoyance. “Can’t say I’m sorry for doing this, but I’m sure you understand our reasons behind it.”

“I can’t say that I do, unless you are looking to be paid handsomely for my return.” You spoke under the impression they all still assumed you to be your older sister. Otherwise, they’d get nothing more than a bronze coin for your return.

“What we want has nothing to do with money, although there is a large reward waiting for us.” His reply is quick and simple, confusing you.

“If it isn’t money you are aiming for, then what is the need for my capture?”

“Oh, well, that’s easy.” He halted, turning around to fully face you. “I want to stop a corrupt princess and her father from ruling this Kingdom.”

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

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simultaneously-sick-and-calm · 3 years ago

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»pairing: Man from the Railroad!Atsuhiro x fem!reader

»word count: 3.2k

»Part 1 | IS IT A GOD INSIDE YOU, GIRL? (1st OGoA AU piece by @get-shiggy-with-it )

»summary: A deal is struck and a desire indulged.

»a/n: part two!! Thanks to my beloved @get-shiggy-with-it for beta reading for me. I hope you enjoy!

»warnings: Appalachian folklore, piv sex, fingering (f receiving), monsterfucking (if you squint), implied tragedy (mine disasters, death of workers/children), some reader backstory, historical AU 1800's mining town, Old Gods of Appalachia podcast AU, 18+ MDNI

The Man from the Railroad was no less intriguing when he returned one evening weeks later to meet with your brother. Just as you'd suspected, he’d practically leaped at the opportunity to cut a potentially lucrative deal without the ever-present gaze of your father looking over his shoulder. For years he had been trying, and failing to make dear old dad believe that he was ready to take over the company. Much to his chagrin however, it was clear that while your father didn’t really trust anyone with the specific ins and outs of the business; the man had seemed in recent years to bristle just a little less when approached by your soft questioning voice, over the harsh cut of his son’s.

This time upon entering the parlor room Atsuhiro took your hand in his own immediately, bringing it once again to the soft plush of his lips in greeting. The heat under your collar seared up the length of your neck, settling once again on your cheeks. “My darling lady! How lovely it is to see your enchanting face. A sight for sore eyes, indeed.”

“Why thank you, Sir. Once again you’re proving to be far too kind.” You brother failed to stifle a huff, clearly irritated that you were distracting his mysterious benefactor. The noise of it shook you back from the daydreams threatening to pull you under.

Pushing from your mind the thoughts of hands at your waist...or how his lips might brush over more of your skin in that same gentle way they caressed your fingers; you guided Atsuhiro’s attention to your brother, finally introducing them. “Henry, this is the Man from the Railroad who asked to see you the other night.”

“Yes, of course!” came your brother’s too jovial attempt at making himself appear likeable. Guiding your guest away without so much as acknowledging your presence. “I was so pleased to hear that you’re interested in our little family affair, kind Sir. Please follow me and we can speak more privately in the office.”

“That sounds just delightful. Lead the way, my friend.” Casting one last glance over the shoulder of his perfectly pressed suit, Atsuhiro winked and followed your brother through the office door.

And just like that, you were once again left standing alone at the desk, consumed by the lingering heat of his lips against your skin. And oh lord above you were hungry for it. It wasn’t an overly familiar feeling, admittedly, but you were no stranger to this kind of desire...to this yearning that threatened to burn you up from the inside whenever you caught wind of him. Which had been often over the last several days.

Since his appearance it seemed as though he was everywhere. Word spread of groups gathering in the large fields just outside town, all to listen to him speak. He promised them purpose, good and honest work that would better not only their own lives but those of all who surrounded them.

Fathers and sons.

Wanderers and vagrants.

All were welcome to join him in working for the Railroad. There was a place for every good, hard-working man among his ranks, and every voice who whispered about this black-suited man with the green bolo tie seemed almost as smitten as you.

Even as all the rumors and the chatter flowed like the streams at the base of the mountain. As the other young women in town flushed and swooned at the sight of the hat sitting proudly above the group of men that surrounded him; you held on to one small thing. The way that his given name tasted on your tongue. It was bitter and sweet, rolling over the plush of your lips with an uncertain kind of hope. For all the tongues that wagged about his sudden and overwhelming appearance in your small hometown, none of them referred to him by any name at all.

Only you had been bestowed the privilege--no, the honor, of having a name to breathe out into the darkest moments of night when every beautiful slope of his face occupied your mind. Those fleeting seconds when all you could hear was the gentle tone of his whispering in your ear, imagining the way that it might deepen and rasp under your kiss. The way it would feel to have your fingers intertwined with his own, or trace them delicately over the sharp line of his jaw and the gentle turn of his grin. All of a sudden the ornate handle behind you turned, startling you once again from your daydreams.

Henry’s voice, followed immediately by the soft floating drone of Atsuhiro’s were just on the other side. You caught just the tail end of their conversation as the door swung open. “Well, Henry my friend, I am simply delighted at the prospect of our future endeavors together. I think that with your manpower, and my connections we can truly turn the tide in this battle. Industry is the path to the future, and we must move along with it. Ever onward and ever forward, as they say, hmm?”

“You’re absolutely right, Sir. I think this is the start of a great partnership.” Henry hadn’t sounded so enthusiastic about anything, aside from maybe a free round of drinks at his favorite watering hole, in years. “We have many who would love to be a part of the kind of thing that you’re offering, and I think that my father especially will be looking forward to seeing all your plans come to fruition.”

Fruition. That was quite the word choice for Henry, and you did your best to stifle a chuckle. Usually by this time he was long inebriated past the point where words with a second syllable became a struggle for him. The attempt was admittedly half-hearted, and the smallest of sounds slipped out before it could be reigned back into the confines of your chest.

Thankfully, Henry was already in the midst of pulling a coat from the rack, and making his way out after a hearty handshake with his new partner. “Wonderful to meet you, and I’m sorry that I have to run out so quickly...I, uh have another meeting to get to.'' He tipped his hat in Atsuhiro’s direction and added a muffled “Sister. I’ll see you in the morning. Please make sure that the good gentleman has all of the information that he needs before you go.”

The both of you murmured farewells in return as he hurried out--no doubt late to boast about his success to the usual crowd of drunkards and fools with whom he spent most evenings. And with his hurried exit, you felt the heat under your skin creep back into its former home. Warming your face in what must have been a world record time. Absently you lifted a hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes, hoping in vain that the action might shake you out whatever state these daydreams had thrust you into. A beat passed in silence, and then another before you felt Atsuhiro’s eyes find you across the small space. He was so much closer just an hour before and still you felt like you’re burning up from the inside out at his attention.

Steeling yourself against your own hesitation, you turned to face him and tried to find your voice among the rabble of butterflies that currently occupied all of the space that used to cradle your lungs. “Henry, seemed to be rather taken with you, Sir--”

“As much as I enjoy hearing you refer to me so formally, my darling girl. You are well aware of my name.”

His hungry stare could have consumed you. In fact, the longer you stood there, with just a few steps holding the rigid distance between you, the more of you became quite certain that it would do just that. Every quip that you might have hoped to throw back sizzled away on the molten heat of your usually sharp tongue. “Y-yes, I am aware of it.”

“Then why,” three smooth strides closed the distance between you, bringing him impossibly close, “my dear, do you seem so insistent on forgetting it just when I want to hear it the most?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I know a great many things. Things that others do not, and could not know. Like the way that your lips curl so lovely around my name in the stillness of night. It's a tantalizing sound my dear, and I am eager to hear more of it."

He was so close as he spoke, the way his breath danced over your lips was astounding. Being so close to him felt similar to the way you had imagined in the several days since he last filled the space around you, but there was also something altogether unexpected about it. Everything about him seemed to surround you, compressing into a space far too small for any physical being to occupy.

The heady smell of him had you intoxicated, clinging to every inch of skin that lay exposed in the cool autumn air that rolled through the open door. His very presence was heavy, like the blankets of fog that clung for far too long at the mouths of caves, or the last sticky days of summer heat that always lingered on the mountain air.

As a child you could recall the way it felt to taste air like tonight’s on your tongue. The way that it invaded your senses, and bit back as if it had teeth all its own sharp and jagged, in their futile attempts to keep the turning seasons at bay. If it weren’t for the way Atsuhiro’s fingertips burned a path along your cheek as they moved smoothly from temple to jaw, you might have been lost to its chill.

He knew.

He knew everything.

More than just the way you spoke his given name. More than the flicker of hope that melted away at the wax seal surrounding your heart. More than the way you melted into his embrace in the same way now.

The glint in his earthen eyes gave way to something more than human, a sum of parts greater than just the man himself who now pressed his body so close to your own. And in that moment, every story your grandmother shared, every warning weaved intricately into the design of the tales came back to you. Along with one other...

Your grandfather didn’t often indulge in storytelling, but he made sure to tell you one. The one about the man from the company with a green bolo tie and sharp silver tongue, that he had met as a younger man. The man who never shared his name, but worked beside him for years to open the mine. To set your family's legacy on its path, one which would eventually lead to this great reaping of the effort he had sown generations ago. You hadn’t ever figured out if the tale was laced with warning like all the others. Honestly, you couldn’t remember any other details, but now you were quite sure that it would make no difference.

You were certain of just one thing. What he needed, and what you wanted were one and the same.

What he sought from you was an opportunity for indulgence. The shred of his humanity that remained among whatever else made up the mass of him was wavering. Flickering like the prayer candles adorning every window in every home as they mourned the things he and his revolution stole from them. He knew that you understood what he was -- what he wasn't, really, and that you weren’t afraid. The weight of your acceptance seemed to settle on his shoulders, and he crumbled into you.

“Atsuhiro...” You whispered into the lips that ghosted over your own.

He tasted like the first crisp breeze of the season. Sharp, and tinged with inevitability, but heavy with understanding that the death of all things familiar lay in wait at its heels.

Desperation overtook him, painting a new color on his usually monochrome pallet. Teeth and tongue fought hard to remain in control, and he won. Licking into your mouth and sighing beautifully when finally you relented the battle of wills and allowed him to consume you completely.

The hands that moments ago were caging you in, now began to roam. Kneading, sliding, savoring every pliable part of you. Hooking a hand beneath one of your knees, Astuhiro lifted your leg, guiding you so shift backward until you found yourself seated on the desk. You used the leverage to lock your legs around his waist and pull him into you, the action bunching your skirts around your waist. Mewling when your hips were finally pressed fully together, you felt the smirk return to his face. Finally you felt him, hard and hot, even through the few remaining layers of clothing that kept you apart.

He pulled away then, tilting your face to look up at him and relishing in the way you groaned at the loss of his heat. Not to say that he was faring much better, it had been so long since he allowed himself this small pleasure, and you were so willing. He was surprised at himself, really, for managing to hold it together this long already. “This is not the first time you have been touched like this, is it, my pet?” He purred into your ear as fingers traced a soft line up the length of your leg, halting to knead the soft flesh just inches away from where you both wanted him to be.

“No, it’s not--hmmm, please…”

He could practically feel the pulsing, the soft wet heat of your waiting cunt. The pretty sounds you made going straight to his cock, and he wanted more. He needed to hear you cry out his name in strangled ecstasy. “Please what, my darling girl? You’re doing so well for me already. Tell me what it is that you need?” he crooned, relishing in the way you preened at even the smallest bit of praise.

“I think,” you began, once again finding the bravery within yourself that his presence seemed to pull out of you, “that it is you who needs me, Atsuhiro.”

He was, for a split second, shocked at the way you took his face in both hands, pulled him to your level and kissed him hard. It was beautiful, this growing fire in you, and as it overtook his senses, he thought for a moment about how he could have loved it--could have loved you--in another life. Or even in his own, back when he was truly just a man. When his name was his own to give freely and did not come with so steep a price.

But now was not the time to linger on such fantasies.

The hand trapped between your bodies made quick work of your underwear, baring your needy cunt to him at last. And Atsuhiro groaned, an altogether animal sound at the slick he found waiting for him there, and he used its abundance to ease first one long finger, then a second, in time into the heat of you. Stroking gently, he explored the soft velvet of your walls until he found it, the spot that made you keen against him. The dark whimper of his given name that fell from your lips when he began to circle the bundle of nerves in sync, was almost more than he could bear. Never in all his time spent on this wretched earth, had he heard something so beautiful.

Now, you were no sweet spring blossom, innocence was something you left behind long ago. But the delicious way he played your body like a violin was foreign indeed. None of the clumsy hands that rushed to lift your skirts had ever made you feel so good.

"Astu--Ah!" You gasped against his shoulder, feeling for all intents like a spring wound too tightly. One hand wound itself tightly in his silky hair and the other blindly searching for the smooth buckle at his waist. Panting, struggling for words between ragged breaths. "Wait! Wait, I--fuck--I want to feel you."

"Yes, of course my dear."

Sliding from your seat on the desk, you beckoned him to follow and settled back into the plush of the sofa. You barely caught the way that his breath hitched as you finally loosed him from the confinement of his clothes. Taking a moment to admire him, you allowed your fingers to trace the lines. Strong smooth stomach giving way to slender hips and and cock that you might even say was pretty. Impressive, certainly, but not in any way that made you fear pain. Rather he looked as though he was made to fit together with you just right.

And oh, how perfect it was.

Atsuhiro trembled as he sank to the hilt into your warmth, and the both of you sighed as he began to move.

Slowly.

Gently.

The moment stretched and was reverent in a way, as though the both of you understood its gravity. He angled and nudged that heavenly spot again, and the way you clenched around him forced a low groan into the air between you.

He looked up with wide eyes, struck again by the reality of you.

Never in any of the handful of times that he'd chosen to indulge in his baser instincts had the object of his fixation been anything more than a pretty face and a warm body, in the end. And he had the small handful of marbles in his breast pocket to prove it. Each one a reminder that he was no longer Sako Atsuhiro. He couldn't risk leaving a loose pair of loose lips with something so powerful as his own name.

But you…

You were something altogether different than the rest. Unexpected. Secure.

He could lose himself in you.

And as you came undone around him with a whimper of his given name, he did just that. Vaulting with you over the precipice. He worked you both through the high, and in return you kissed him deeply.

A while later, still entwined on the old velvet sofa, your name, whispered softly in the surrounding stillness pulled you back from the edge of sleep.

"Hmm?" You asked gently, afraid to disturb the peace. You knew that this was borrowed time.

"You know that I cannot--"

You silenced him with lips against his own. "I know."

"Thank you, my dear."

You awoke the next morning to a stack of those shiny cards on the desk, and a note. Scrawled quickly over the surface were just a handful of words.

These are for the men that your brother wishes to send my way. Keep none for yourself. Ever onward and ever forward.

-A

Next to them in the slim vase where you'd left the blue marble, now was only a long white feather. Very much like the one you'd noticed missing from his hat.

#sako atsuhiro #mr compress x reader #bnha #mha #sako atsuhiro x reader #old gods of appalachia au #the man from the railroad!Atsuhiro #tw monsterfucking (maybe)

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milfnearyou · 4 years ago

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𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

“𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4K | 𝐎𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐇𝐔𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST. CHEATING. BETRAYAL. SUGGESTIVE. THATS PRETTY MUCH IT THIS TIME AROUND. NGL THIS ISN’T MY BEST WORK AND IS A SHORT ONE SHOT, SORRY! CLICK HEADER FOR HIGHER RESOLUTION BC TUMBLR IS STUPID.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

“So you just woke up one day and decided you loved me?!”

Your voice was painfully shrill, bouncing against the metal walls and echoing through the elevator shaft. If you hadn't been so furious, you would've cringed at the way you sounded. Considering your behaviour to be completely out of character and rather petty. But it was impossible to think straight. With all the sirens in your mind screaming 'Alert!' causing you to grow defensive. You saw everything as red, wrapped in a series of warning signs. Eager to protect yourself you grew aggressive, fury coursing through your veins and laced with disgust.

The disbelief was evident in your tone, accompanied by the extremely annoyed look plastered on your face. Your eyebrows were contorted together, lightly creasing your forehead as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip. Your hands were balled into tight fists trembling at your sides as you fought the urge to beat the living crap out of him.

"Fucking answer me Sehun!" You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You didn't understand him, not taking any of his bullshit words seriously as a result. Had he been telling the truth, had he truly meant every word he said. Sehun wouldn't have just stood there in front of you with nothing to say. The silence he offered simply adding more fuel to the fire that raged inside of you.

"So now you're silent? You weren't this fucking quiet back when you were professing your so-called love to me?! What's gotten into you now?"

Again, nothing but silence. The tall man simply stands there in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the elevator continues to rise higher and higher. With every floor, the elevator cabinet passed, the angrier you got and it didn't help that you lived in a high rise apartment. If he continued to act this way you'd be fuming, steam emitting from your body by the time you'd reach your floor.

“Do you even know what it means to love someone? Or do you just throw yourself in any direction that proves beneficial to your selfish well being?” The questions flew past your lips one after another. You weren’t going to hold back either. Pushing yourself towards him, forcing him to explain himself.

You didn't deserve the silence. You deserved proper answers, ones that were absent from the immature man in front of you.

"Answer me right now or I swear to god I'm cutting you off forever," Warning him, you take a step forward to face him closer. Invading his personal space as you stare at him, craning your neck upwards with your arms crossed.

Watching him like a hawk, you attentively wait. Noticing how he seems to take a slight step back, his broad chest heaving up and down slowly. He seems to be nervous or perhaps, flustered? It was hard for you to believe that with all the ways he could've handled the situation this was what he opted for.

Step by step, you get closer and closer towards Sehun until he's got his back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator. It was hard to believe that someone who looked dominant most of the time could be so cowardly.

"I'm not asking again," You state, pressing your index finger roughly against his chest. Physically pushing him around until he's finally had enough. His large hands pressing against your shoulders as he shoves you back, regaining his confidence. Finally, he refutes, silence no longer being an option for him.

“Fuck off! Do you want an answer? Fine, but you don't have to act like such an invasive bitch about things!"

Stunned your eyes widen. You can't tell if you should be offended or impressed with just how much you pushed him but you let him speak. Not saying anything even though he had just called you a bitch.

"No, I didn’t just wake up one morning and decide that I’d fall in love with you! It took me countless days and nights, essentially adding up into months of thinking about nothing except you! Do you know how painful it felt for me? Do you not understand how guilty I felt?!” The tone in his voice is dangerously low as he narrows his eyes at you. It's his turn to match your attitude, fixing his posture and standing tall.

"Oh really? So you only thought about how you felt and not how I would feel knowing about your feelings for me? Sehun, how selfish can you be? You aren't the only person on this godforsaken planet!"

"You don't think I knew that? I know you wouldn't be happy with this but you have to understand that had I kept everything to myself and continued to hang out around you; it would've been both disrespectful to you but also incredibly torturous to me. It was worth gambling my feelings and confessing with the consequence of potentially losing a friend instead of hiding it."

Taken aback, you feel yourself pause and you hate yourself for it. Sehun has a point, he's valid for being upfront about things but there was just one thing that didn't sit right with you. Despite wanting an answer and getting it you curse yourself for falling silent. The hypocrisy of your silence hitting you square in the face but you're not done. You still have one more thing to say.

"What about the fact that you're still dating my best friend? Did you think about how much this would hurt her? No, let me guess, I bet you haven't even mentioned anything to her," Bringing your best friend up seemed to be the major thing standing in between both of you.

Sehun stares at you like he's been frozen in time. His features completely poised and monotone as your eyes scan his face for any sign of emotion. It was still much too hard to accept his words, to trust them and understand that it came from the bottom of his heart. Your anger was now replaced with complete confusion, perhaps even denial as you scoff at him. He was crazy to think you'd ditch your best friend for a man like him.

Sehun only stood there with his shoulders pushed back, his posture relaxed. His orange tufts of hair making him look like a complete clown. His current demeanour was very different in comparison to how defensive he was earlier.

How could he be so hot and cold? None of it made sense with his face being completely unreadable, everything felt bland like a black and white movie. Sehun could scream as much as he wanted but his words would never get through, bouncing behind the screen, staying unheard from the crowd. All these things made it impossible to find the sincerity he had in his words represented in his body language.

The elevator came to a stop with a rather loud ding notifying you that it had arrived on your floor. You take one last look at Sehun battling with yourself on whether or not someone as selfish as him was worth entangling yourself with. But no matter how you thought of it you couldn't accept him. With Sehun came consequences, ones that you weren't willing to risk getting into and that being losing your best friend. Someone who was there for you through thick and thin could never be replaced with a man you'd only known for roughly a year.

He didn't mean anything to you and he wasn't allowed to have any meaning in your life, it just wasn't okay. Betrayal had a greater impact than love, you would be foolish to accept the latter.

Leaving him behind, you step outside of the elevator. Realizing just how much more breathable the air outside the shaft was in comparison to being back inside holed up with your worst nightmare. Your moment of freedom is cut short when you feel his lean arms wrap around your waist pulling you back inside.

He's clinging onto you like a child refusing to let go as he rests his head next to your shoulder. His hot breath brushing against your neck, making you uncomfortable for many reasons that were quite obvious. He just wasn't single nor available and you couldn't let yourself be the other girl.

“Please just—take a chance. I'm willing to cross oceans for you, tear apart anything that stands in my way because I love you. I'll break up with her, she's nothing like you. Why can't you see that I love you?” He rambles, his voice falling soft. Sehun sounds like he's about to fall apart as he speaks into the crook of your neck.

His voice vibrating against your skin, echoing through your mind. Despite his tone being no louder than a whisper, his message came loud and clear. Slowly his plump, soft lips make contact with your skin as you freeze in place watching as the elevator doors slam shut. Moving downwards again you feel like you're slowly descending to hell.

His actions gave you goosebumps as he peppered kisses against your neck. Using one hand to grasp your waist, holding you close to him. While the other cupped your cheek, tilting your head slightly so he could gain better access to your body, his kisses moving down south and landing onto your shoulder. Pushing your shirt slightly aside before gently biting down on your skin causing you to gasp.

Sehun's touch was electrifying and almost hypnotizing, you felt yourself growing dizzy and out of touch with your surrounding. As he continued using his lips to convey how much you meant to him against your screaming mind that yelled at you not to do this to your best friend. But like a fool, you melt into his touch. Lips falling apart, as your chest heaves up and down. The air feels intoxicating as he rotates your head towards him. His lips crashing against yours as you feel like you're about to pass out.

You can't give in, you can't betray your best friend and yet, you feel yourself kissing him back. Your tongue tangling with his, exchanging dirty, secretive kisses. Turning around to face him better you fall into all the places you knew weren't right and that was right into the arms of Sehun's. Intertwining your fingers with his, holding onto him tightly as if the only chance you'd have with him would be taken away.

Now you knew what it meant to be selfish and just how delicious it tasted.

The elevator is filled with the lewd, smacking of the shared kisses between you both. His body grinding into yours as you feel yourself growing heavy. Developing a strong heartbeat where your filthy desires lay. You felt yourself growing wet, shifting your thighs uncomfortably together. Feeling his hand snake down towards the waistline of your skirt, tugging on them.

"You just have to say the word and I'm dropping everything and everyone for you," He says in between kisses as you tilt your head back in pleasure when you feel his fingers slipping past your skirt. Hovering dangerously over your soaked heat. "Do you want to run away with me?" He asks.

You want to say yes. Your body having a mind of its own would rather speak for you but you just can't bring yourself to go through with it. The image of your best friend is hung up in your mind and even though the damage has already been done, you still don't think it's too late to stop.

“I can’t and you know I won’t,” You reply, wincing at how your voice cracks. You didn’t want to seem weak in front of him, you needed to show him you had control over how you felt. That you were sure you didn't want him but it was all a lie. A lie you told yourself and in return had the truth spoken out loud by the actions of your body.

Sehun knew of this and yet, his peppered kisses come to a halt. The grip he's got around you loosening as his hand slips out of your skirt. You step out of his grasp feeling ashamed, not daring to look at him. Turning around and staring at the doors instead. Fixing your shirt you crane your neck from side to side trying your best to calm down. Bringing a shaky hand towards the elevator buttons and clicking for your floor.

You can feel Sehun's gaze boring holes into the back of your head.

"I don't understand. Why can't you just let me love you? It's not that hard to just give me a shot. I can give you the world, give you all the happiness and security you need in life."

"--Let me be the man that protects you, that cherishes you. I know it's hard because of her but...don't we deserve to be happy?" He pleads, his voice wavering. If you had turned around to face him you'd see his lips quivering. His dark, brown eyes are glossy with tears threatening to escape from the tiny apertures of his tear ducts.

But currently, it's your turn to fall silent. All because you know that despite him falling at the seams, begging you to love him you know that he'll only go back to being the same once he's got you twirling around his dainty fingers. His norm being the same silent person as always, emotionally unavailable and confusing as always. Plus, who's to say he won't just ditch you like he's doing to your best friend?

"It's your turn to answer me," He pleads but you ignore him. Thanking the timing of the elevator for opening right at the end of his sentence.

Quickly stepping off you pray that he doesn't snake himself around you again because if he does, you don't know if you had the power inside to fight him off again and thankfully he doesn't. Sehun leaves you alone watching you get out of his view, the sound of your Chelsea boots clicking against the hallway floors until suddenly you're just gone. A wave of heartbreak washing over his feelings as he realizes that he just can't sit here and do nothing.

He won't go back to your best friend, he doesn't love her and in fact, he never did. It wasn't his choice to hurt her like this but he couldn't help but fall in love with the wrong person. So he chases you, chases the love of his life eager to satisfy his selfishness and have you by his side.

The consequence of dealing with your best friend could come later but first, he needed to convince you once and for all that he was the only good thing in his life. Your best friend was to be replaced.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔©︎

#this was ass: not proofread properly.#oh sehun x reader #sehun angst #sehun x reader #oh sehun angst #oh sehun suggestive #oh sehun smut #exo angst #exo fanfic #exo x reader #i don't know tags: bye!#lmk what you think.#solange is in the mountains: queue!#sehun smut #sehun suggestive

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honeybrulee · 4 years ago

Text

Sacrifices

Jean x Reader

Summary: When Jean is knocked unconscious during a scouting expedition you make the decision to risk your life in a desperate attempt to save him

The blue smoke from the flare signalling the scouts to retreat billowed its haunting message across the sky. Whatever had happened, whatever state the scouts ahead of you and Jean was, it wasn't good, and that was all the information you had to rely on in that moment.

The two of you, at the very back of the formation, dug your knees into your horses to push them ahead, silently sharing a look of uneasiness at the situation. For conditions that required a retreat signal from the commander your surroundings were quiet. Too quiet.

"What do you think's going on?" Jean called, raising his voice slightly so that it would carry across to you over the sound of pounding hooves.

"No idea, but I don't like this. Something doesn't seem right. We need to regroup with the others as quick as we can."

Jean nodded sharply in agreement before spurring on his horse, leaning into its neck.

However, as per usual, your gut feeling proved itself to be right. Before you could even get near any of the others, the ground you rode on began to shake with the familiar heavy footfall of your enemies.

Turning to look behind you, you notice five titans approaching rapidly, eyes focused on you and Jean.

One of them was gaining more rapidly than the others- an abnormal. Not leaving anywhere near enough time for you to send off a flare in hopes that nearby scouts would notice your predicament, the abnormal lunged for Jean, sending him hurtling off his horse with a yelp and across the planes of land.

"Jean!" you cried out, veering your mount in his direction. Your concern grew as he remained motionless, splayed out unnaturally on the grass. You knew you needed to be fast, the abnormal pulling itself from its stomach to it's feet again.

You called out his name again as you rushed to him, but still only silence answered your call. You couldn't let Jean die- not before you had the chance to confess your feelings to him.

The two of you had been friends ever since enlisting for the scouts, and you had only grown closer and closer over the years. Countless nights spent in his company under the moon left you with a sense of longing in your heart, one which only worsened upon your observation of the way the man gazed at Mikasa. Regardless of whether your friend shared your feelings or not, you still couldn't leave him to die so carelessly at the hands of a titan.

Sliding off the saddle of your horse once you reach him you realise there's no chance of getting him back on his own horse, the poor creature having been crushed under the stomach of the abnormal when it lunged for him.

With haste, you scoop Jean up in your arms, grunting as you use all your strength to settle him on top of your steed. With every second you spent adjusting him the abnormal was once again gaining on you, a hunter ready to crush and consume its prey, and the other four regular titans weren't far behind. Your eyes pricked with tears at the wave of hopelessness that washed over you. No. This wasn't the time for those sort of thoughts. You had to pull this off - for Jean.

Jean. You observed the way his limp unconscious body slumped against your horses neck, blood flowing steadily from his nose and the corners of his lips and the areas around his eyes already beginning to bruise.

You had two choices. Get on the horse with Jean and try to outrun the titans- unlikely. That held the risk of neither of you surviving, the abnormal was too fast, you'd be overwhelmed before you made it so much as thirty metres. Option two, however, secured Jean's safety, and you already found yourself choosing that one with not even a second of thought regarding the repercussions for you. You would secure Jean to the horse, send it off in the direction of the others and pray they noticed him and took care of him. You, meanwhile, would remain behind, distract the titans from Jean and bring their attention to you. That was the one.

You lifted the reins, throwing them over Jean's body and tying them to the back of his belt, making sure it was tight enough for him not to fall. Scratches from the coarse earth littered his skin, and you couldn't resist the urge to lean in and press one tender kiss against his cheek. A goodbye kiss perhaps, maybe selfish on your part, maybe a waste of precious time- but you could take one moment to be selfish for yourself. You would earn it.

With one last look at Jean you nudged the side of your horse, sending it galloping off ahead with your friend secured to its back. Your heart clenched in desperation, begging whatever gods might be out there to deliver him safely to the scouts as you stood and watched him disappear into the distance.

The abnormal was right behind you now, letting out a throaty screech before lunging violently at you the same way it had to Jean. You quickly sank the hooks of your ODM gear into a nearby tree, pulling you sharply in its direction and out of the grasp of the titan. The trees were only short and were sparse, nowhere near high enough to give you any advantage over the abnormal but as long as you could remain out of its clutch you could manage until somebody noticed and came to help you. If somebody noticed.

Meanwhile, a few miles ahead, the scouts were regrouping, taking headcounts and waiting for as many survivors as they could gather to join them.

"Sir! Someones approaching on the horizon! Only a single rider!" a scout called out, alerting Levi and Erwin.

"Who is it?" another spoke, attempting to focus their eyes on the face of their approaching comrade. Things changed however, when they noticed that the rider was slumped over unconscious.

"It's Jean," Armin wailed, "and he doesn't look conscious!"

As the horse flew in their direction Captain Levi prepared to stop it, standing just to the side of its path so that he could grab the reins and haul it in. And that's what he did, the horse bucking and squealing in a frenzy.

"It seems like he's tied to the horse by the reins. And that's definitely not his horse, either," Eren evaluated, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Mikasa spoke next. "Whoever was with Jean must have tied him up like this so that he could escape while unconscious. But surely that means they must have been protecting Jean from something, else they'd be on the horse with him."

"Y/N! She was the one who was out there with him!" Armin came to the realisation, making the others murmur and gasp. You had made many friends within the scout regiment, always easy to get along with and willing to spend time with and care for your teammates, so your death would not go down easily.

Erwin furrowed his brows, thinking about his next actions carefully. If what they were theorising was true, he couldn't just leave members of his regiment to suffer a needless death at the hands of titans.

"Very well then," he spoke clearly, gaining the attention of the others. "Captain Levi, you will go with Eren, Mikasa and Armin to locate their missing teammate. I will lead the others back to the walls, join us when you have determined her fate. I will also see to it that Kirschtein is escorted safely to the walls."

With a nod, they departed, Erwin assigning two scouts to ride either side of Jean's unconscious body on your horse. The others galloped in the direction they had seen Jean come from, and it wasn't long before they found you. You looked weak from exertion, trying with every fibre of your strength to fight off the abnormal and the four regular titans. Three of the normal titans lay dead on the ground, the napes of their necks steaming in defeat. Now you were flying in endless circles around the abnormal and one remaining titan, barely missing their clutch each time they swung at you with meaty fists.

No matter how hard you tried, exhaustion would always find a way to catch up with you. After endless swinging, leaping and the intense focus it required to have kept yourself alive this long in your situation you were growing weary, the strength draining from your body, and before you knew it you were being squeezed horifically tight in the fist of the abnormal. The large titan opened its gaping mouth, blunt teeth exposed and ready to crush you. You yelled, using what little strength remained to squirm as hard as you could manage but to no avail. The creature's grip was too tight, and as it began lifting you into its mouth you found yourself squinting your eyes tight shut and sobbing.

You reminded yourself that this was for Jean, that you were doing this to save his life, but the thought of him only made you cry harder.

"'M, sorry, Jean. I love you," you whimpered breathlessly.

However, just as you prepared yourself to be bitten in half, the sound of ODM gear engaging caught your ears. You gasped in shock, and a small part of you began building hope again. The next thing you knew you were falling from the titan's fist towards the floor, the beast's nape having been sliced. Before you could meet the ground you were snatched up by someone. You didn't know who, however, as the relief you felt mixed with your exhaustion, leading to you falling into unconsciousness as you knew you were finally in safe hands.

You had done it. You had saved Jean and survived. They had come to get you.

___

When you regained consciousness you were safely tucked into your own bed back at the barracks. You tried to sit up but immediately fell back down and groaned at the sharp pain that wracked you. Your ribs, they must have been broken by how hard that titan had been holding you. The titan- Jean. Where was he? Was he okay? What if the scouts hadn't found him and he was still out there somewhere all alone. He'd be dead by now for sure if he hadn't met back with them. Had you unknowingly sent him to his death?

But before you had the chance to work yourself into a frenzy, all of your questions were answered in one.

"You're awake!" A frantic gasp from your bedside. Jean.

Tears sprung to your eyes. He really had survived and had made it home safe.

"Woah, woah, woah, you idiot, sit still. And what are you crying for?" he exclaimed.

"You're alive!" you rasped, throat raw.

"Yes, but the question is why? Why would you ever do that for me? Huh? Sacrifice your whole life, send me off to safety and leave yourself to be torn apart by titans for my sake? Why the fuck would you ever do that you idiot?" Jean was practically shouting, his voice shaking and wild.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes to avoid him.

"Well? Don't just close your eyes! I need to know why you would ever do something so stupid. Risk something so precious just for me!"

You felt your heart pounding, heat rising to your cheeks. He couldn't ask you something like that.

"Do you really need to ask?" you spoke quietly, still not strong enough to speak at a regular volume.

"Yes! I really fucking do need to ask."

"Think about it, Jean. You don't actually need me to answer that for you. You'll only make a fool of me." you pried your eyes open, looking up into his in the hopes that he would get your message and wouldn't make you go through the pain of being rejected, of being told that he only had eyes for Mikasa.

"You're already a fool for doing what you did. You should have left me to die. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, especially if the reason for your loss was me." Jean's angry facade broke, the man falling to his knees at your bedside and sobbing into the back of your hand.

"That's exactly why I did it, Jean. I don't know what I'd do without you either, and in that moment your entire life was in my hands so I did what I could to preserve it. Call me all the names you want, and maybe it was stupid, but I couldn't care less. I'd do it a thousand times over if it meant being able to see you alive and healthy every day. If you're really going to make me say it, fine, I'll say it. I love you, Jean. I have for years. I love the way you always panic over me when I get so much as a papercut; I love the way you let me lean on you and sleep on your shoulder when we're out scouting overnight; I love the way you make me laugh with your dumb jokes every day; and how you hold me when I'm sad and don't leave until you see me smile. I love you, Jean. Is that what you wanted to hear? And I know you only have eyes for Mikasa. I do- believe me, but there it is. The truth. The reason I did what I did. And like I said, I'd do it all over again. I don't expect you to say anything back, I already know you're not interested. Now please, just leave and spare me the embarassment of being rejected by the person I love."

Jean froze, dumbfounded. His eyes were wide and glued to your face, at the pained and heartbroken expression you held. All this time and you'd thought he'd never wanted you? Thought that he wanted Mikasa? Slowly, shakily, he got up from his knees and moved to sit on the mattress by your hip. You turned your face from him, avoiding his eyes.

"You truly believe I don't feel the same way?" his voice shook as he spoke.

Your eyes widened, and you automatically turned your head back in his direction to detect from his face if he was lying or not.

"You really think that I'd be this upset over anyone else doing what you did? You think I panic when you get hurt because we're just friends? You think my heart doesn't feel like it's going to beat out of my chest when you fall asleep against me? That I tell you all of my dumbest jokes just to keep a teammate entertained and that I hold you when you cry because I don't like seeing a friend upset? You really believe that. I do it all because I love you. Always have, ever since the day I met you. And Mikasa? That was a childish crush, never anything more. I've never felt for anyone the way I do for you. When I woke up back at the barracks I was so confused. The last thing I remembered was riding back to the commander with you when some titans appeared. I thought you were dead, Y/N. The others only knew I was conscious again because I screamed at the thought of you being dead and in the stomach of some damn titan while I was tucked up in bed, healthy and alive. And when Eren told me what really happened? I was furious. Furious at you for putting my life over yours, but even more furious at myself for letting that happen in the first place. I always make sure we're stationed together for the exact purpose of protecting you. I'd die for you, Y/N. And I know how hypocritical that sounds but gods I love you, my sweet girl. I don't know how I'd live without seeing that beautiful smile every day. I love you."

Tears brimmed at your waterline at his words, the breath leaving your lungs.

"You really mean that?" you gazed up at him, not daring to break the eye contact you had established.

"More than I've ever meant anything in my life," he reassured. Jean sighed, reaching to brush a strand of hair from in front of your eyes. His hand slid down to your cheek, thumb swiping over it and wiping away the escaping tears.

Slowly, ever so carefully so as not to hurt your battered body, Jean leaned down, resting his forearm at the side of your head for balance.

"Can I kiss you?" he almost whispered, eyes blinking slowly.

"Please," you sighed, heart pounding when he closed the distance and complied with your plea.

His lips swept against yours with every care in the world as the two of you exchanged your pent up emotion without words. And as Jean held you that night safe in his arms, as he spent hours pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, jaw, nose, lips- the two of you felt your hearts melding together, becoming one synchronous unit. He had you now, and you had him, and neither of you planned on ever letting go. You were in it now and forever.

#jean kirschtein x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years ago

Text

Just Call Me Cupid

Fred Weasley x Reader

George Weasley x Reader(Platonic)

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List:

Prompts: 15, 24 & 25

"Could you be anymore annoying?"/"Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn."/"[Y/N or Character] DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!"

Warnings: Swearing (always)

-Part One-

You know how the story goes. Three mischievous Gryffindors bonding over pranks and countless detentions. Becoming inseparable during their first year, and sticking together through thick and thin. That was the relationship between Y/n y/l/n and Fred and George Weasley. She fit into their lives perfectly. Her humour was exactly like theirs. She liked the same sports. Had the same classes. The same friends. Although one would wager that y/n held all the common sense of the three, always sure to rein the Twins in if they were edging too close to a line they shouldn't cross.

They used to joke she were the "Missing Triplet". Unknowingly separated from them at birth. They'd even gone as far one year to dye her hair fire orange, referring to her as Y/n Weasley for months.

With every passing holiday the Twins would bring y/n home with them. Her home life wasn't particularly grand, it was adequate in a way but had nothing on life at the Burrow. Molly welcomed her everytime with open arms. It wasn't uncommon for her to stay the entire holiday, start to finish, as she got along so well with the family, all of whom loved her like their own sister and, in Mr and Mrs Weasleys case, own daughter. So of course this Summer would be no different.

As the second week of their holiday came around; Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Y/n and even Hermione found themselves left to their own accord for the day as Percy and Mr Weasley had work and Mrs Weasley had errands to run.

The group woke to a fully prepared breakfast waiting for them and a completely chore-free schedule, a rarity in this home.

"Morning all" y/n greeted cheerily as she entered the kitchen. "Someone's happy this morning" "I'm happy every morning, Georgie." She replied as she made her way around the table with a spring in her step. "Oo, toast!" She exclaimed reaching for a single piece balancing on the edge of Ronald's plate, which earned her a stern slap across the wrist from the boy. "Damn. Relax! It's not like I went for a piece of bacon..." "Careful, y/n/n" began Harry from beside her, "that's a sure fire way to lose a hand." He joked. "Oh, right! I'm so sorry I forgot!-"

"RONALD, DOESN'T SHARE FOOD!" everyone, aside from Ron, shouted amusedly before falling into loud laughter. This had been a long running joke amongst the friends and family after Ron had yelled the line at dinner one night years ago. Y/n had to grip the back of Rons chair to stop from falling as he scowled at the groups mockery. "Oh sod off. HEY!" Y/n stole a piece of bacon from Rons otherside while he had been distracted. "Payment for one viscous assault on your favourite sister." She goaded taking a bite from the crispy piece of meat. "You're not even related." "Not yet." Smiling across the table she shot George a wink. George grinned, tongue pressed to cheek as his brow raised amused by her insinuation, in response he pursed his lips blowing her a kiss.

Y/n finally made her way around the table to a vacant seat by Freds side, chuckling lightly at Rons uncomfortable expression.

"Wow y/n, can't believe you'd really settle for the less-attractive Twin." Fred feigned insult as George threw a piece of crust at him. "I didn't. Otherwise I would have chosen you, wouldn't I?" She smiled innocently.

Fred's jaw dropped open in shock at her words. Though he fought hard to contain the smile and laugh forming on his lips, Fred was unsuccessful, cheeks grinning as a chuckle made it's way from his throat.

"WOW!" he placed a hand to his chest, "wound me why don't you?" He looked back to his gathered friends and family, all of whom were laughing at his dramatic reaction. "That's my girl", George spoke fondly, leaning back in his chair, hand hung behind Fred to y/n as they low-fived.

"Some 'best friend' you are." Fred continued, "and GINNY! I can't believe you would laugh at such a heinous lie! I thought we were closer than that!" Ginnys face were so red it near rivalled her hair at this point. Fred turned his attention back to y/n to find her face a similar shade, light joyful tears brimming in her eyes. He stuck his bottom lip out in a fake pout. "Awwe...Freddie..." she tried to speak, "come on, you know you're my favourite" she leant into his side - hugging his arm - placing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"OI!" her 'future husband' protested, "I'm right here!" "Sorry Georgie, gotta keep my options open. You know how it is."

The remainder of the meal was spent discussing how to fill in their first day home alone for the holidays. Everyone was excited at the prospect of a potential Quidditch match, except Hermione - the only one who doesn't play the sport, and the sloppy ground outside from the past days rain didn't appear very inviting in her opinion. Their plan was thwarted regardless as Ginny reminded the Boys of their current grounding.

Fred, Ron and George had all been forbidden access to their brooms and Quidditch equipment for two weeks, after accidentally breaking a kitchen window with a bludger - released too soon near the house. In the end everyone simply parted into their own groups.

Ginny and Hermione disappeared to her room, Ron and Harry to his, while the remaining three spent the day outside.

Fred, George and y/n were partaking in some 'friendly' bits of competition to occupy their time. It started innocently enough; "let's see who can throw a Garden Gnome the farthest". But naturally, as all three individuals were highly competitive, it escalated. It was all out War by the afternoon.

Basically, they were now running around, breathless and sweaty, chucking mud cakes in their "opponents" direction. A total free for all.

As a cramp set in y/ns ribs she sought shelter behind a shrub by side of the Burrow, trying desperately to spot either Twin and failing. She was thankful however for the opportunity to catch her breath. That was untill...

"Tired are we?" Startled by the sudden voice y/n jumped eye's locking with those of George who stood far too confidently before her, hands tucked behind his back, as he smirked. Y/ns eyes widened, this couldn't be good. Her eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area. No sign of Fred. That definitely isn't good. She began stepping away slowly from the redhead infront of her who cocked his head at her movements slowly following. Smile only growing as he lowered an arm revealing a metal pail filled with sludge.

"Oh God. George, please no!" Her arms came out in defence, "I'm begging you...Georgie, please don't!" Though worried and pleading she couldn't help the nervous smile and giggle that came to the surface. Eyes staring into his "I'll do anything! Mate, please just...put. down. The bucket."

George let out a long sigh, contemplating, as he swung the pail loosely in his hand staring to it's contents. With a dramatic roll of his head and a groan he dropped the bucket by his feet. "Oh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" Y/n repeated, relieved. "Had you done that I'd never get my chance..." Georges brows furrowed, "chance for what?" "THIS!" Y/n scooped up a large mud patty from her feet, hurtling it directly across the side of his face, laughing maniacally. Though as George slowly scooped away the gathered muck on his eye, flicking it off his fingers, she couldn't help but feel bad. A little anyway. Offering a half-hearted apology as he wiped away the dirt by his mouth.

"Oh you're sorry, are you?" He began advancing on her again, "to think I took it easy on you, my 'loving' wife-to-be." He added sarcastically. Y/n gulped as she noticed the new found determination held in his gaze. Laughter turning nervous as she backed away. "I'm sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you by...taking you roughly in the barn?" "Mmm tempting. But I have a better idea" he smirked wickedly. Y/ns face dropped as she made to run, but she wasn't fast enough, George wrapped his arms around her body holding her tight in place. "Not so fast, love." He lifted her from her feet walking blindly back towards the house. "No! Please no!" She whined through giggles, "Geoooorge" "It's not me you should be worried about, sweetheart." He whispered to her ear. Huh?

"Oooooh FREDDIE!" he called over his shoulder. FUCK! Where was Fred!?

George turned sharply on the spot and y/n suddenly found herself face to face with one Fred Weasley, complete with bucket. Only this one wasn't the same from earlier, it was bigger. And filled with...what was that? Oh god. Ice.

"Woah y/n/n, you look really flustered. Reckon you might need to cool off." He grinned. "Freddie, I was thinking exactly the same thing." Georges grip on y/n tightened as she began to squirm furiously. Pleading them not to. Fred raised the bucket in his arms as she slipped to the ground, George pinning her down and tugging back the side of her shirts collar.

Fred leaped into action, pouring the buckets contents over her exposed shoulder so the ice would fall down her back as well as down her chest. Y/n squealed at the brisk temperature change. Breath hitching and shuddering in response. The boys jumped back as she scrambled to her feet, shaking the material of her shirt to lose the ice still clinging beneath it. Various curses and insults being shot to the twins whilst doing so.

"Prats." She shivered, "the both of you. Prats." All three couldn't contain their laughter at this. George excused himself for a moment to rid his eye of a few pesky grains of dirt under his eyelid.

He dunked his head under the tap of the kitchen sink in order to rinse his eye, and face while he was at it, clean before filling himself a glass of water having become quite hot from all the running he'd done this afternoon. A sudden yell pulled his attention out the window.

Chuckling as he watched Fred frantically running from y/n who held the bucket of mud George had threatened her with earlier.

Fred was running backwards with his arms raised trying desperately to bargain his way out of his punishment. George could only just make out the conversation carrying on in the moment.

"Come on, said I was sorry didn't I?" "Why don't you put the bucket down and I'll run you a bath" "I have a stash of chocolate frogs upstairs you can help yourself to!" George was amused by that line in particular as he knew for certain that stash was well and truly gone, days ago, as he and y/n had helped themselves to it whilst he showered.

Fred were a fairly safe distance away as he out manoeuvred his friend easily with such long legs and lack of bucket. He probably could have kept up their little dance for some time, enough for her to admit defeat, if he had not tripped back over his own feet. George snorted at the sight, water nearly shooting from his nose, as his brother fell flat on his back. Y/n seized her moment. Standing above him with bucket raised smiling.

Many 'please's, and 'y/n's and of course countless 'no's falling from Fred mouth, all in vain as the bucket tipped above him. Contents hitting directly to his chest and covering him in filth. George really wished he had a camera right about now.

"What are you laughing at?" Ginny had appeared, grabbing a glass of water for herself. "Y/n getting revenge." "Why aren't you out there?" "To avoid exactly that happening to me." The two watched as Fred stood, wrapping himself around y/n to smear mud over her body as well, swaying them side-to-side dramatically as he did so. Muffled shrieks came from her mouth which was pressed tight against his chest.

"Mum's going to have a field day with you three." Ginny commented, placing down her cup as she ascended the staircase. George inhaled sharply as his jaw clenched at the thought. His eyes scanned the yard...they had made quite the mess. He wondered if they'd ever be allowed to play Quidditch again. Or even be allowed out of the house for that matter. His thoughts were cut short as his attention fell back to his brother and best friend.

They'd stopped rough-housing. Y/n pushing back from him with a huff. She stood before him with a pout, covered completely in muck. Fred was laughing haughtily at the sight as he took a step forward, sweeping a dirty piece of hair behind her ear. His fingers delicately traced her cheek bone and down toward her lips which had parted slightly as she stared at him. His head was hung towards her as he gazed back, hand now resting just below her jaw. Both slowly leaning closer...

The moment was over as quickly as it'd began, by Fred clearing his throat and dropping his arm, both hands finding his pockets and standing back a pace. He had said something about needing a shower to which y/n laughed awkwardly, avoiding any further eye contact.

"Ho-ly FUCK!" George exclaimed to himself as realisation hit him like a bag of bricks. "They fancy one another" his eyes were wide. How hadn't he noticed before?

The way their eyes seemed to linger on one anothers a tad longer than two friends would. The shameless flirting. The "innocent" light touches. How Fred always had his arm over her shoulder if he could. The quick kisses to their cheeks. The blushing. The way Fred tensed, white knuckled, when boys were 'too friendly' with y/n. The way y/ns teeth would grind as girls would fall over Fred. It all seemed so obvious now.

Without a second moments thought George bolted up the stairs.

Hermione and Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, chatting casually about the upcoming school year and what excitement it may hold, when the bedroom door violently swung open. Slamming into the wall, one hot, sweaty and very much out of breath George clung to its handle.

The girls stared wide-eyed at the sight. "...yes?" Ginny asked curiously. Her brother was a sputtering mess, attempting to speak through deep burning breaths. "F-Fre-and y/...Fred and y/n!" He gasped, arms waved and flailing dramatically trying to make them understand him in his frantic state. "They-they're...they fancy one another!" He finally exclaimed before clutching his side painfully, "Oh, cramp".

Ginny and Hermione looked at one another with identical blank stares before shrugging simply, "We know" they spoke. "You KNOW!?" "It's pretty obvious." Said Hermione. A deep, frustrated, sigh left Georges throat, his head rolled and he flopped heavily into the small space between both girls, the action causing them to bounce.

"Could you be anymore annoying?" Ginny groaned but George ignored her, "This is unbelievable." "Is it though?" His sister questioned. "They're always all over one another. Always staring when they think the other's not looking." "Not to mention they're perfect for one another." Hermione giggled " "He stops her from stressing too much over school work, keeps her out of her shell when she's struggling. And she very well may be the only person on the planet capable of settling him down when he gets worked up."

"Do you think they know?" George asked, eyes fixed to the ceiling. "Not a chance" "Absolutely not." The girls answered. "Look how long it took you to realise, and you're their best friend." Added Hermione causing Georges brows to furrow. She had a point. They'd spent nearly every day together since they met in their first year. Practically attached at the hip and yet it only clicked now.

He couldn't quite wrap his head around how he was feeling at the moment as too many thoughts flooded his mind.

Was he worried? Excited? What if they dated? Would they hang out with him less, as a result? Would it work out? What if they broke up!?

"My best friend and my brother..." he wondered aloud, tone sceptical. The girls remained silent as George thought, chewing his cheek. The atmosphere was tense as they worried over his reaction. That was until a wide smile crept its way across his face. "My best friend and my brother." He spoke louder, more assured, with a curt approving nod. "I'm gonna make it happen." He stated matter-of-factly as he lifted himself from the bed, making his way to the door.

"And how, pray tell, are you going to manage that?" "Easily, my dear sister." George looked over his shoulder as he grabbed the doors handle, "Just call me Cupid." He winked, quickly shutting the door as he left with a smirk.

#hp imagine #hp fan blog #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #George weasley x reader #fred weasley #George weasley #prompt fic #fred weasley imagine

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carlycmarathecat · 4 years ago

Text

Speechless

The opening sequence started with an abandoned warehouse, boards filling in the way inside mostly on the windows. There came moving noises and shouts from the inside and out popped our four favorite turtles one by one, Leo in the lead. The dust settled down slowly as they each tried to catch their breath. Eventually, came the half-hearted laughs.

"Okay...that was kinda fun back there." Leo piped up.

"Risky, but yeah, not bad for first-timer, Leo." Raph's arms crossed in pride. Mikey nodded in agreement and looked towards Donnie, already hunched over his wrist device tapping away.

"And you said I couldn't handle leadership." The red-eared slider smirked.

"W-What, I never said that?"

"Not out loud anyhow."

While the older brothers slightly bickered among themselves, the box turtle turned attention towards the middle child of the family. "Donnie? Yo, Donald." He reached to touch the other's shoulder. The softshell in question slightly seemed startled turning towards the baby brother. "Leo did a pretty good job leading us, didn't he? You didn't have that much doubt in him as you did from the start, right?"

Donnie gaped a little before pressing lips into a thin line, giving off a quick nod. He appeared a little pale all of a sudden.

It didn't get past Orange as he collected Purple's hands in his own, "Hey... what's up, bro? You act like you've seen a ghost so suddenly." His brow curved into one of worry, "You can tell us anything, you know?"

This caught the attention of the older brothers as they faced the two younger siblings. Donnie began opening and closing his jaw but hardly made any sounds, slowly reaching to feel his Adam's apple... something wasn't right.

'It feels like fire...why can't I say anything...??'

"Donnie- whoa!" Mikey yelped as the softshell launched forward, hand over mouth as one cough after the other poured their way out in a painful manner. Leo grew in panic, making his way over quickly.

"Mikey, the hell is going on...??"

"He-He won't say anything to me!" Mikey was getting a little scared, "I don't...think he can say anything."

Blue bit his lip hard, "You're not suggesting that...?" But he had to brush it off, for now, turning to his twin who was trying to collect his breathing, tears in his eyes from the coughing fit that kept building up. "Donnie! D-Donnie, just take it easy. Deep breathing, just breathe deeply and slowly, you hear?" The softshell did his best to follow said instructions. "That's it, just like you do with your panic attacks..."

"I'm gonna ring up Pops, maybe he can help!" Raph wasted no time in bringing out his phone to do so.

"Yeah, you do that!"

Donnie eventually got his breathing under control, but it still felt hot to the touch... it was making him dizzy. Leo calling out his name was the last thing he heard before passing out.

It could've been minutes or hours even, but Donatello slowly woke to find himself in the den laid on the couch. He felt something cool and wet around his throat, still felt warm from the inside regardless. He pushed himself into a sitting position...

"Hey, bro."

There was Leo, approaching him into a kneel beside his disaster twin. "Try not to talk right now, you'll end up with another coughing fit. Is there anything you need?"

Now that he mentioned it... Donnie did his best to gesture like he was drinking. Leo nodded in understanding, bringing up a glass of water, ice cubes bobbing about in it. The softshell took slow sips of the beverage and eventually looked towards the slider turtle silently asking;

Have they figured out the problem?

"Well...it should be obvious what the cause is." Leo tried to laugh but it faltered, "At least... that's what I'm hoping anyway..." He felt Donnie's hand slowly take a hold on his own and he squeezed in return. The snapper and box turtles made their way into the den.

"Ah, good. He's awake." Mikey sighed, relieved. "Now remember, Raph-"

"I know." Raph approached the other two, a somewhat frown in the genius's direction. "You've got a pretty bad habit of scaring us half to death, don't you?" Donnie pouted; was he really gonna do this now?

"But the problem's been figured out, right?" Leo wanted to know. Raph and Mikey took concerned noticed how the slider kept hold of the other's hand.

"...Right?"

"Uh, yeah, kinda." Mikey cleared his throat, "The way Draxum described it... that dust we dealt with has a bigger effect on some more than others from the looks of it. And those who have had it say it's like having a fever of 100 except it's within your neck. Just some soft foods and liquids, he should be good in no time."

This somewhat settled relief for Leo. Donnie, however, wasn't sure about not being able to speak for a long period of time.

"And we're all gonna pitch in and do our best to help you get better. The only difference being you won't be able to protest against us." Raph's little joke was answered with Donnie's elbow connecting with his ribcage. "Oof!"

Mikey giggled sadly, "Actions still speak louder than words, you know that, Raphie." Leo would've laughed too, he just felt too glum to follow through.

"It's okay, boys." Splinter entered the room, "I'll take it from here, you're all free to go now."

"Sure, pops."

"Yes, daddy."

The rat turned to the slider, "That means you too, Blue...Purple will be alright."

Leo wanted to protest, say anything but Donnie's hand upon his shoulder and a sad smile aimed at him... Blue sighed in understanding, getting up and slowly following after his other brothers. As Splinter changed the towel from Donnie's neck to replace it with a fresh one, he took fatherly notice how the twin kept his gaze where Leo had walked out.

"Try not to worry about him right now, my son. He'll be alright, you'll see."

Leo paced in the other room while Raph and Mikey were doing their own things to pass the time. How could he have been so stupid, so overconfident, just so... with a grunt of frustration, he grabbed a cushion and tossed it across to the other side.

Raph couldn't help taking notice, "It didn't really do anything to you, Leo..."

"You can say it." Leo frowned, "You both can just say it already, get it over with."

"Say what?"

The slider growled annoyed, "You know what I'm talking about, damn it! I'm the one responsible for what's happened to Donnie! He's like this cause of me! Who knows how long it'll be before he's up and chatting again, maybe to even rub it in what I could've done differently!" He paused to catch his breath after his vent.

"Look, Leo-"

"So what're you saying?" Mikey glanced from his comic, "You'd rather be the one with the hurt throat while Donnie's blaming himself instead?"

Leo's brow curved in concern, "What, no, I'm not saying that..."

"Hey, none of us knew the dust in that house would have that type of effect but we made it through as best as we could. We've at least made it out alive, right?"

His fists clenched tightly, "I know that... but I just..."

Mikey, now marking a spot in his comic, approached his older sibling in blue resting his hands on his shoulders. "Leo, I don't know if this will be any help, but... you shouldn't consider your mistakes as failures but as lessons instead." He smiled, "You at least have an idea what to do for next time we approach a situation like this, again, don't you?"

Leo bit his lip... and nodded. Raph joined in, "And like I said, we all pitch in, Donnie's gonna feel better in no time."

"...thanks guys." Leo embraced both his siblings in a group hug.

Mikey eventually broke away, "So... which one of us should take turns with Donnie first?"

Blue smiled, "I've already had my turn, you guys can decide among yourselves."

The next few days flew by faster than you could blink. Mikey helped out with whipping up soft recipes that Donatello could easily swallow, Raph assisted with telling some of his middle brother's fave stories (preferably ones that didn't involve too much magic). And as for Leo, he simply shared episodes of Jupiter Jim, some of them being Donnie's favorites too.

Purple was eventually able to speak again once the burning in his throat went away, but he and Leo didn't have to share an apology/forgiveness between them; it felt on that day after that mission, they already have both said their peace.

Pictures done by @jadethest0ne 💚

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #donatello #michelangelo #raphael

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impaladolan · 4 years ago

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Capture - Grayson Dolan [ae]

summary: somehow, someway, y/n was rescued from her enstranglements and open to the world again..

warnings: lil smut & swearing!

a/n: sadly, this is the last part of capture :( i hope you enjoyed this little series! ily, mwah💕

later note: this is now an alternate ending, i am continuing this fic!

part one, part two, part three.

In the moonlit hours of the night, where the nocturnal animals are out and about, the slight creak of a door radiated through the room of which you lie awake and sleepless in. You didn't dare to move, but rather freeze. You held your breath and squinted your eyes towards the door, where a shadowy figure entered with ease and quietness. "Are you awake?" The shadow of a man calls in a whisper, edging nearer and nearer towards you. You decided not to answer, internally preparing yourself for whatever was to happen.

You had finally given up.

It's been presumably a month since that fateful morning run that lead to where you are now, stuck in a house you've barely ventured. You felt disgusting and a far different person from who you once were before. It's been a week since you've showered, to ward off the man you've named asshole. You've gone blank, almost mute. You haven't talked in days and you don't plan to. But what looks to be a man, in the dark, in front of you had altered your motives. "Y/N, I've come to take you home. We don't have much time." Hands begin to shake your shoulders as the unfamiliar voice awakes you from your thoughts. "How?" Your voice comes out raspy, breaking a fresh load of tears that you haven't been able to cry in days. "Come with me, and be quiet." He orders as he pulls your hands to help you out of bed.

He presses his fingers against his lips, faintly saying "It's okay," to calm your overwhelming nerves. He leads the way, opening the creaky door just enough for the two of you to escape. He smoothly walks down the hall, with you following suit, and through a couple rooms until he opens another door, leading into a garage with an already started black car. He quickly opens the passenger seat and lets you in, waiting until you're fully seated before softly shutting it. You quickly buckle your seatbelt as he jogs around the front and into the other side. He seats himself and immediately backs up once the garage door is opened.

This can't be real.

You begin to pinch yourself, letting your tears run down your cheeks as you giddily smile, watching as you pass the wire fence and roll down the entirely too long driveway. "I'm sorry." The man, who you've not given a good look at yet, muttered. He didn't look at you, but he kept his eyes on the road and quickened his speed. You didn't respond, because you have nothing to say exactly.

"It's not my brothers fault, I promise." He gives you quick glance, his striking features an awfully good resemblance to asshole. "Then who is at fault!?" You felt your anger arise in you, but you hiccup and sniffle afterwards, clearing the fury-filled facade you were trying to encapsulate. "I've been trapped in a room for a month, sexually assaulted, malnourished, and taken away from all the people I love without an explanation. So tell me, who was it?" You asked, a hurt in your voice like the man had never heard before. He felt himself almost shed a tear at your words, shaking his head.

"He was forced to, by our leader. I can't give you names or details Y/N, but I must ask you not to press charges. I'll reimburse you with whatever kind of money you want, but if you fucking snitch, we're all dead. Including you, understand?" The tone of his voice caused your sniffles to hush and your eyes to bulge. Before you could answer, you feel his car halt and the view of your house, seemingly untouched, outside the tinted windows. "Grab your things, shower, and get back out here as quickly as possible." He demanded unlocking the doors and following you up to your doorstep.

You didn't question anything, grabbing your spare key from under the doormat and bursting into your home, the recognizable smell instantaneously calming you.

Wow.

You missed this place so much. All the pictures and nicknacks placed strategically around the place. You wished to lay on you sofa and squeeze all your pillows and smell all the smells that were so homely, but the man hurried you, standing guard at the door as you did all the things he asked, starting with a well needed shower and a change of clothes. After packing up things that you thought you'd need, you follow the man back to his car and hop in, waiting for his words. "Where's your nearest relative located?" He openly questions, starting the vehicle and beginning a slow drive, opposite to how he drove before.

"200 miles away, in a grave yard." You answer monotonously, staring straight ahead. "I figured, since there wasn't any search warrants out." He mumbled under his breath, though you heard. Your hearing had increased very much so throughout the entirety of a month, as well as your sneakiness you'd guess.

"Is there a place you can stay for the next week?" He furrowed his brows in question giving you his full attention the moment he stopped at a red light, where no other cars eerily surrounded. The moment he asked that question, your mind immediately went to one of your closest friends, whom you met in college and have stayed in touch with for the most part. Well, all except for an entire month. "Yes, drive to Belmont. I'll give you directions once we get in the city." You direct with a nod, pulling your knees to your chest and closing your eyes softly.

It's gonna be a long ride..

"Please, Daddy, I'll be good!" You beg as you watch him look over you with a wicked grin, his large hand stroking his erected length. You had your legs spread wide open, ready for his touch and warmth— whatever he could possibly do to make you feel good.

"Good girls don't run away." He sternly said, with what seemed to be an angered chuckle. His cold, merciless eyes beamed right into your own, his signature smirk dancing on his lips. He grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with an ease, his hands softly gliding up and down your back. His fingertips alone sent core-aching shivers down your entire spine until your back was arched to his liking. His index finger traced a line all the way down your backside until it delved into your incredibly drenched pussy, shooting a foggy sense of mentality to your brain. He toyed with your folds, inserting two of his fingers at a relaxing slow place that made your stomach twist and turn with glee. You let out a couple sheer moans to yourself, basking in this quick moment of sensation before it turns to dust.

He continues his motions, gliding his other hand further up to caress your breast while he leans his mouth up towards your ear to lowly whisper; "You'd like to have this, wouldn't you?" You bit your lip with a happy sigh as his skillful fingers pick up a little speed, nodding your head for a slight yes to answer his question. "Words, sweetheart." You gasp when you feel his lips connect to your neck, his harsh sucking creating a slight difficulty to speak, as he wanted you to. "Yes, Daddy, I'd love to." It wasn't hard to figure out that he'd cease all of his orgasm creating actions just at your words.

"If only you didn't run away, you could've gotten what you wanted." His gruesome chuckles startled you, making you whimper with need. You look behind to see him licking his fingers with a smile, a smile you'd never forget.

"Y/N, wake up we're in Belmont." The man taps your arm lightly as his soft and soothing voice wakes you from your gut twisting slumber. You felt your entire body shutter with desire for more, and you felt a pooling within your panties.

Did you just have a wet dream about a kidnapper?

You caught your breath and blinked your eyes to get acquainted with the newly risen sun, trying to regain your memory. "What were you dreaming about? You kept saying daddy and shit, kinda hot." He gave you a suggestive smile as he chuckles, all the while your face burned up with embarrassment. You were almost annoyed— no you were peeved that he had woke you up from an amazing, imaginary sex marathon. "Nothing much, just fucking your brother." You shrug with a blank face, a hollowed chuckle emitting from his throat. "Ouch, women." He continues his small laughs, turning into a gas station and sliding right next to a pump.

"What do you want for breakfast?" He asks, getting out of the driver's side with a yawn. "To piss." You yawn as well, leaning back in your seat to stretch.

"I'd let you, but you'd probably make a run for it or something." He twists his body around, letting it breathe rather than being crunched in a car any longer. "Fine, a hash brown." You quickly answer, your mouth watering just to the thought. He nods, shutting his door and locking the vehicle twice. Once he's inside, you quickly scribble something on a random envelope, placing it in his seat before looking in the backseat for your bag. You quickly grab the straps and put your arms through the loops. With one last look at the man, who seemed to be getting your desired hash brown, you open the passenger side door and sprint as fast as possible before he'd notice the cars alert system sounding.

You run as fast as your legs could take you, keeping up a solid pace until you're in a recognizable neighborhood. You could still hear the car's endless beeping, which gave you hope that you'd finally be—

Free.

Thank you, for helping me escape. I've decided, within the few minutes of planning my escape as well, that I will not bring any of this up to the police, as I probably should. Yes, I was held there against my will, but I can't say I was exactly unhappy. So with that being said, never contact or try to find/kidnap me ever again. I will carry this baggage for the rest of my life, don't make it worse.

good riddance,

Y/N Y/L/N

(masterlist)

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goldishlock · 5 years ago

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Emerald Seas Chapter 6 (Pirates of the Caribbean Fanfiction)

Seven years later

Katherina lifted herself from her bed, as her maid just left she smelled the fresh air entering her sleeping chambers. The white curtains by the open windows waved graciously in the warm breeze, mixing in with the sound of the palm trees going back and forth in the wind. It was a beautiful day, already very hot as the sun started rising upon the blue Caribbean skies.

It was very early in the morning, Katherina had woken up with a scream, her maid Josephine had stormed into her room without asking permission, thinking she was being kidnapped of some sort. But everything was well, she had assured her. For it was only a nightmare. The same one who had haunted her for years.

Waves crashing upon a misty dark ship, walking over the deck, suddenly turning red underneath her bare feet. Hearing someone scream, screams that turned weaker and weaker, ending in only hearing a soft heartbeat. While moving closer a face of a young man covered in blood was getting clearer, but fading soon again, and every nightmare the face became vaguer. Like the person was fading from her memory.

Katherina sighed and wondered when the nightmares would end, if they ever would. She made way to the room located next to her private chambers and dropped her nightgown from her slender figure onto the wooden floor, her feet stepping out of it slowly reaching for the bath that was filled a few moments earlier. Her thin fingers reached for the water and she made the tips of her fingers flow upon it. Just the right temperature. When in the bath knee high into the water she dropped down gracefully.

Washing away all the tension from her body and mind. Feeling more relaxed already. Her face was half into the water, her lips playing with the small waves of movement. Her red hair darkening when getting wet. She crossed her arms over her chest and got lost in her thoughts. Thinking about what must have been the hundred time she had this dream. But this time there had been something different. The face had vanished more and more with every dream. But not this time. She, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, had seen the eyes of the face crystal clear this night. Ice blue-grayish eyes gazing into hers.

Awaking from her now daydreaming, she moved the water making it spill over the edge a little. She turned her arms away from her chest and made her whole body and head dip underneath the water. After exiting the bath and getting herself dry she moved to the bedroom again. Since it's still so early in the morning she decided to take a simple morning gown over her undergown. She tied her hair, almost completely dried from the heat, with a silk ribbon together so her long golden curls rolled down her shoulder.

She made her way down the long stairs covered in red carpet which always felt so soft and pleasant underneath her bare feet. Something her father had remarked more than a dozen times, how a lady like her should not walk around barefoot. That and not wearing a corset made her mornings feel a lot less formal, as she had to walk around in heels mostly for the rest of the day. Not that she hated that, she was used to the attire and loved it most of the time, but she wished there were some more days, like on the seas, when she would be able to wear something more light.

Even the servants were still making themselves ready for the day. That's why she liked being awake so early, the silence in the mansion with the sounds of nature walking past the open windows made this the only minutes of the day she had truly for herself. Entering the dining room she opened the two doors carefully, trying not to make any noise, but the cracking of the wood was unavoidable. She grinned when seeing a teapot and a single porcelain teacup waiting in the middle of the table. It was one of the servants that was aware of her early mornings and wanted to make sure she had at least a hot cup of tea every time.

An hour passed and while turning her teacup between her hands she heard the creaking of the wooden doors when her father appeared from behind them. He was wearing a smile on his face that wrinkled the side of his mouth. Wearing his brown wig she was amazed by how he managed to do this every morning, considering she was the woman of the two, he always looked ready for any formal occasion. But he was still in his morning robe as well. She gave him a warm smile and he kissed her forehead passing her, sitting down on the chair opposite of her. The many rings on his fingers gleamed in the sunlight, and she noticed he was holding a newspaper tightly. He unfolded it onto the large wooden table and pointed his finger to an article with a big headline in elegant letters.

'The East India Trading Company finally has a new Director' Lord Florence's winded eyes didn't leave the headlines and his finger pressed hard against the paper so the tops turned white.

'It was about time, the last Governor of the Company was tiring everyone with no actions on that what matters the most nowadays!' He almost sounded angry, like the man had done to him something personally.

'Now we have a fresh young face that can only help the new world even further. And he'll even move to the Caribbean. Something the old Director should have done long ago. Smart move if you'd ask me' Lord Florence released his fingers from the newspaper and looked at Kate for the first time, still holding the teacup between her hands, staring outside into the gardens, she clearly wasn't just as ecstatic as her father.

'Katherina, are you listening? Do you know what this means?' her father lifted the news article and placed it directly in front of her on the table. She already knew what he meant. This was going to be one of the suitors he was so desperate to find for her. Now that she was a grown woman, and not the girl she used to be, she had already told him a dozen times, the time will come when she'll pick one. Kate was at an age that it was expected of her to be married and have children already. But she tried to postpone it as long as possible since she still did not feel any spark with the many men her father had introduced her. The countless balls they attended she always managed to slip away from his mission and be with her friends and socialize with the people she liked. There was a spark, once. But she'd never mentioned that anymore, she fought for it once, but in vain.

'You know the man Katherina' her father's eyes hooked onto hers to see her reaction. She was blessed to not be forced into marriage yet, only thanks to the position they were in, but time was running out. But Kate didn't want to discuss this again, she couldn't care less about who this man was, for he was going to be the same as any of the other men, only wanting her for her wealth, title, and beauty.

She was a lady ahead of her time and interested in everything business wise, learning a lot from her father. Most of the time she knew everything that was going in the world. But when her father had started to push her even more into the direction of marrying she stopped following what was going on with men getting higher up in ranks and the titles that were given from the King himself. Only to save herself from the information she knew about these men, prior to meeting them.

'No father stop this! We have been down this path and it must stop' she squeezed the newspaper into her hands and made it into a ball without looking at the article what so ever. She stood straight from her chair and threw the paper ball into the fireplace.

'But Katherina, you will like him, trust me' Lord Florence stood as well and took her wrist caring so she won't run out of the dining room.

'I've had enough of it. I've heard you say this a thousand times father!' annoyence filled her voice.

'Give me one last chance Katherina. I will show you I'm right' he spoke like he wanted to make it up to her and moved his arms around her holding her in his loving embrace.

'Only if you promise me this is the last time and after that leaving me to sail my own course' Kate looked up to her father's tall body, hoping this will be the very last time, and if it was, then this would be a good deal.

'You have yourself a deal' her father spoke grinning at her. Kate kept a straight face and moved her head onto her father's chest.

'Tomorrow we will attend his ceremony, after that there shall be a ball' Kate moved her head from his chest.

'A ball, well at least the evening will bring some excitement' Kate spoke with a rather sarcastic tone.

'This day and your meeting will be very exciting, I assure you my dear' Lord Florence looked at her releasing him and making her way to the doors. She turned around before leaving.

'This man must be quite something, you seem so certain' Kate whispered, already mocking his lost deal. Lord Florence's mouth curled into a smirk.

'Just wait and see my dear'

#pirates of the caribbean #potc #fanfic #fanfiction #cutlerbeckett #cutler beckett #lord beckett

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itmanco · 8 years ago

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Say hi to Samsung Bixby, the new voice assistant in the Galaxy S8 Samsung has a new voice. And it has world-changing ambitions. In the upcoming Galaxy S8, users will find an extra button on the left side of the phone, just below the volume controls. Pressing it will activate Bixby, Samsung's new voice assistant. Once activated, Bixby will help you navigate what's arguably the most sophisticated piece of technology you own — the smartphone in your hand. If Samsung gets its wish, though, Bixby will eventually do much more than just help you order Lyfts or set up complex calendar appointments. The long-term vision is for Bixby to act as a kind of uber-interface for all of Samsung's products: TVs, wearables, washing machines, even remote controls. SEE ALSO: Samsung Galaxy S8: all the leaks in one place Samsung designed Bixby with a specific goal in mind, one that veers away from its fellow voice assistants — Apple's Siri, Amazon's Alexa, Microsoft's Cortana and the Google Assistant. Those platforms were generally built to help users quickly perform common tasks ("Remind me to buy milk") and perform search queries ("What's the capital of Brazil?"). Bixby, on the other hand, is all about making the phone itself easier to use, replicating the functions of many apps with voice commands. Yes, Siri et al. already do that to a certain extent — you can easily set a reminder with your voice, for example — but the voice integration typically only handles the basics. The goal of Bixby is to voice-enable every single action in an app that you'd normally do via touch, starting with Samsung's apps. So, not just "set a reminder to buy pickles at 6 p.m., but "Set a reminder on my Shopping List to buy pickles at 6 p.m. and make it repeat every week, then share the list with my wife." Bixby speaks Injong Rhee, CTO of Samsung Mobile and the architect behind Bixby, says the voice assistant is nothing short of an "interface revolution," freeing users from hunting down hidden functionality within menus and hard-to-find screens. "Bixby is an intelligent user interface, emphasis... on 'interface,'" Rhee says. "A lot of agents are looking at being knowledgeable, meaning that you can ask questions like, 'Who's president of the U.S.?' A lot of these are glorified extensions of search. What we are doing with Bixby, and what Bixby is capable of doing, is developing a new interface to our devices." Bixby architect Injong Rhee, CTO of Samsung Mobile. Image: Pete Pachal/Mashable Although it makes its debut on the Galaxy S8, it will soon spread. Rhee sees the Bixby button eventually spreading to all kinds of smart-home devices, from TVs to refrigerators to air conditioners. "Anywhere there is an internet connection and a microphone, Bixby can be used," he says. "There is some technology in the device, but a lot of it lives in the cloud. That's why the range of devices goes beyond just a smartphone. It means it can be in any device we produce." Samsung began work on Bixby about 18 months ago, Rhee says. It grew out of the company's S Voice tool, which has been on Samsung phones since 2012. (The timing might explain why Samsung's smart fridge — announced right around then — failed to deliver on its planned integration with Alexa.) S Voice hadn't progressed much over the years, but then last year Samsung acquired the much-hyped Viv Labs and its sophisticated assistant, a strong indicator of the company's renewed interest in voice control. However, Rhee says Viv's technology is planned for future updates to Bixby and doesn't have a role in the initial release. The name Bixby came out of Samsung's focus groups, but it was actually their third choice overall. It was the top pick among millennials — a demographic the company is specifically targeting with the Galaxy S8 — so it won out. (Rhee declined to say what the other names were.) It's also distinctive enough, with hard consonants, for it to work well as an activation word. Bixby, which will initially speak just English and Korean, is intended to be a user's "bright sidekick," helping them navigate their devices in a more natural way. "[What came before], it's been people trying to learn how the machine interacts with the world, but... it should be the machine learns how the human interacts with the world," Rhee says. "The learning curve shouldn't be steep." All talk, all action For an app to be considered Bixby-supported, every possible touch action needs to be mapped to a voice command. Rhee explains that, for a typical app, there are about 300 different actions the user can perform. That doesn't sound too bad until you consider there are around 15,000 different ways to perform them. And the ways to verbalize those actions number in the millions. That's a lot of stuff to map out. Still, Samsung says it's up for the challenge, at least as far as its built-in apps are concerned. But what about third-party apps? Considering the amount of development work, will Snapchat or Facebook ever work as well with Bixby as Samsung's apps? Rhee says Samsung has a plan to get third-party apps talking to Bixby, and an SDK to be released at a later date will introduce tools that make the mapping much easier. He also suggests Viv's technology can help here, too. "Viv Labs is coming in by way expanding our vision into third-party ecosystems. It doesn't necessarily have to be all of the touch commands that they can perform. At a minimum, [Bixby will perform] the basic functionalities: like the settings, or changing the language from English to French." On the Galaxy S8, a total of 10 apps will be Bixby-supported, Rhee says, with a second "wave" coming a few weeks later. Out of the gate, users will be able to use Bixby with Contacts, Gallery, Settings, Camera, Reminders and a few others. Another way Bixby is different from its peers: it will be aware of what you're doing on the phone and suggest different actions depending on what's on screen. So if you press the button while, say, looking at a single photo in the Gallery, editing and sharing controls are probably more relevant to you than searching. And if Bixby doesn't understand every aspect of a complex command, it will take you as far as it can rather than just hitting you with a "Sorry, I didn't catch that." All this "awareness" brings up an important question: How much data is Samsung collecting about you? Rhee says most user-specific data is kept on the device, but, as a cloud service, Bixby needs to store some information in the cloud. It's not yet clear what the exact breakdown is. The button Having a dedicated button for Bixby brings a number of advantages. For starters, it means Samsung won't have any need for Clippy-style pop-ups directing users to the assistant — people will inevitably find it on their own. It also ensures there will be far fewer accidental activations than if Bixby were mixed into a home button — something users of Siri are all too familiar with. "We actually have done a lot of research to have the Bixby button as part of the home button like our friends in Cupertino," Rhee says. "A lot of people find it a little awkward to use it in public. The home button is a very overloaded place — there's a lot of functionality into it. Having a dedicated button really removes a lot of friction." And since the idea is to press and hold, lifting your finger when you're done, Bixby will know definitively when you're done speaking. Still, there will also be a wake-up phrase — you can just say "Hi Bixby," to activate the assistant at any time. It's the dedicated button that really epitomizes Samsung's approach, and if it indeed ends up on all Samsung products, Bixby will become much more than just a smartphone assistant — it'll become the gateway for Samsung to finally, truly become a major player in the internet of things. Sure, Samsung has had its "Smart" devices for a long time, and its low-power Tizen OS is ideal for powering the many products with connections to the internet. It also acquired SmartThings in 2014 to strengthen its IoT brand. But until now, Samsung has lacked a gateway for its customers to really take advantage of that interconnectivity. For most, it's hard work hunting down the right settings on your phone to connect a smart TV to an air conditioner, but what if you could just tell Bixby to do it? And if you can talk to it from all those devices — asking any question or even making phone calls — then you're really onto something. "It's actually omnipresent in a sense," Rhee says. "Even if I speak to Bixby in, say, a washing machine, you can still do a lot of things that you do on your phone. For instance, you can say, 'Bixby, send a text to my friend Michael,' or 'Make a phone call.' That's the vision." The more capable assistant Amazon and Google already know this, and the success of Alexa and buzz around Home are a testament to the unquestionable efficiency of adding voice control to devices. But Samsung, with its high standard of controlling all functions of a device via Bixby, might end up with the advantage. Alexa, for all of its "skills," often falls short of full control (you can turn on or dim LED lights, for example, but might not be able to select specific colors), so the market has room for a more capable competitor. Of course, how and when Bixby will mix with third-party products and services remains an open question. "Philosophically, what we are looking at is revolutionizing phone interfaces," Rhee says. "We understand our applications better than anybody else out there — that's why we started with our own technology, but going forward we have plans to work with our partners." Eventually, Rhee says a Bixby app might come to non-Samsung Android phones and even iOS, possibly partnering with Google Assistant for search-related queries (though he cautions Google and Samsung haven't "gotten to the specifics" on how that would work). At the same time, Bixby control could extend to all kinds of smart products, not just Samsung ones. That would probably take a level of cooperation with competitors that Samsung hasn't really shown before, but if Bixby becomes ubiquitous in the long term, whatever OS this or that device is running will become less relevant. That's a future Samsung is clearly hoping for, since software has traditionally been its weakness. Samsung may be a chief Android partner, but it's struggled to differentiate its many services from Google's, and the company lacks an OS of its own (Tizen notwithstanding). Samsung's browser, Samsung Pay, S Health — they're all duplicates of Google products, and are widely regarded as inferior. That's why Bixby may be the best thing to happen to Samsung software in a long time. If customers respond, Bixby could, in the long term, finally get Samsung users to think of its phones as Samsung phones rather than just the best-performing Android phones on the market. All Android vendors try to differentiate to some extent, but Bixby's app-simplifying skills and potential IoT capabilities are a compelling sell. Bixby represents an important step for Samsung when it comes to services: finally a good answer to "Why should I use your software?" Effortless voice control of everything — not just your phone — is a tantalizing promise, and if Samsung can pull it off in the long term, its "bright sidekick" might end up being the only assistant we actually want to talk to. WATCH: Samsung's wireless earbuds double as a fitness-tracker http://ift.tt/2ml5hpQ By Samy Morsy

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