#it was so fucked man. that one dog trying to tear open the gate to escape. and the Assimilation

[redhotarsenic]

Okay so I just got done watching the thing 1982 and like. That movie is AIRTIGHT damn

#fucking love body horror it was so gross #making me think of a particular oc. and I wanna incorporate some of this shit into them #I’ll go into more detail later once I get that sorted out kinda #the dog too it was EERIE #cuz like. you know how huskies are right? loud as shit bouncing off the walls and everything #it was like it was a GUY. it was so still and quiet and aghg #and then that whole part when it got locked into that kennel with the other normal dogs #it was so fucked man. that one dog trying to tear open the gate to escape. and the Assimilation #and the practical effects agghghgh #the part with the head spiderrrr #I can’t remember anyone’s names cuz I’m bad at that when watching movies sometimes but like. #the way that you start being hyperaware of how everyone’s behaving and like. you try to guess who it is. and it’s so hard to tell beyond #maybe one or two little clues if any at all #kinda wanna watch it again sometime and go over it with a fine toothed comb and see if I can spot anything #I’ll shut up nowwww #oh almost forgot but like. the idea of the thing not being One Individual Harmonius Being #and instead being multiple entities without a sense of self that’ll just fuck off entirely #if that part senses that it’s in danger #literally down to the cellular level #is such a rad concept fr

[fandomfix13]

Get Him Back - Rafe Cameron 18+

* HI ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE WRITTEN ANYTHING BUT IM HERE NOW

* TBH THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO BARE WITH ME

* This is so super long and also completely filthy at parts SO MDNI and pls read warnings

* little bit of fluff? Def some pretty smutty smut. This did not start out as smut but here we are

* WRITTEN IN Y/N’s POV, lots of dialogue

*anything in italics is your inner monologue

Word count: 4K

WARNINGS: MDNI!, mentions of cheating (not rafe), toxic ex,  oral (giving and receiving), fingering, rough-ish??, p in v sex, hair pulling, light choking??, not rated e for everyone

The rain is pouring down in sheets. Falling harder than it has in a while. My head is pounding from holding back tears, that I might as well let out. I never thought that I would be in this situation. Forced out of my boyfriend's car after a fight at nearly one in the morning, with a dead phone, left to walk home alone in the pouring rain. How cliche. Not to mention the fact that I’m just over three miles away from home. What a dick. Some “man” he is to leave me like that. For all he cares, I could be kidnapped out here. However, it's highly unlikely being that I’m wandering in one of (if not the nicest) neighborhoods in this entire state. Constantly guarded by a neighborhood watch, with gated community after gated community.

 I can see the the sharp rain plummeting down in the glow of the street lights. Unlucky for me, the wind has picked up too making this walk even more miserable. At this point, I have two options; 1. I could continue to walk home in this miserable weather OR 2. I could lose all dignity and show up to Sarah’s house after not talking to her in months. Seeing as this storm is showing absolutely no sign of stopping, its looking like the second option is better. As I turn the corner, I approach the Seabrook Gated Community. A little ways down is the fence that Sarah and I used to hop all the time when we would sneak out. That’s my in. It’s an old rusty fence that is hidden behind some overgrown hedges behind some wildly overpriced house that rarely ever has anyone living in it.         

After nearly slipping off of the slippery fence, I make my way down the street to Tanny Hill. Mentally preparing myself for the absolute humiliation that will occur if Sarah opens the front door. We had our falling out about 3 months ago and we haven't spoken since. We have tried our best to avoid each other at all costs. At least I’ve tried avoiding her, that is, until this very moment. 

As I approach the front lawn, I genuinely consider turning around and quite literally braving the storm and walking home. As it is, I’m already soaked from head to toe and probably on the verge of pneumonia. However, I shake off my thoughts and walk towards the front door. I knock three times in hope that someone will hear. I don’t ring the doorbell out of fear of waking up the entire Cameron household which is the last thing I need to do. After a few seconds, nobody answers. This house is huge maybe they are coming. I convince myself that nobody is answering the door so I turn accepting my fate and I walk away. Suddenly, I hear the front door unlock and my breath gets caught in my throat when I hear his voice. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” Fuck. Me.

“Hey Rafe.” I choke out. God I probably look insane.

“What are you doing here?” he looks at his phone “at 1:26 in the morning.”

“Um. Is Sarah home?” I spit out, trying to avoid conversation.

“She’s not…but I am.” He leans against the door frame looking me up and down in a ‘you good?’ way. “You also didn’t answer my question.” He adds.

“I uh…I didn’t know where else to go.” I say quietly. I was right. This is in fact humiliating. He just stands there and stares at me. Clearly unamused at the fact that I still haven't answered his question as to why I am standing on his front porch looking like a wet dog. I would stare too. “Are you gonna let me inside? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me in silence.” I add.

“That depends.” He says lookin back into the house then back at me. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Or are you just gonna avoid the question.” Touche. We stand here in silence for a moment as he watches me get pelted in the face by the rain and I chatter my teeth. He finally pushes the door open further and gestures for me to come inside. Thank go Sarah isn’t home because I would be shitting myself out of embarrassment right now. I walk in and Rafe opens a hallway in the closet as he reaches in and grabs a towel that he throws at me. “If You get anything wet, Rose will lose her shit.” 

“How kind.” I say with strong notes of sarcasm.

“Hey I didn’t have to let you in. I could've just left you outside on your own.” he’s right.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first guy to leave me outside tonight, so I probably would’ve been fine” I blurt out without thinking. What happened to me tonight is none of his business. Plus I’m sure he will hear about it anyway. However, he did let me inside which he did not have to do, so I could at least pretend to be grateful. 

“Damn. That's rough. Sorry about that.” he almost sounded embarrassed.

“No, it's fine. Thanks for the towel.” he nods and sits down at the kitchen counter. We stand in silence for a bit as I ring my hair out into the sink. This couldn’t be more awkward. Here I am standing in my ex best friend’s house with her older brother, who was in fact my first kiss in a game of truth or dare years ago, and who happens to be the best friend of my boyfriend who just dumped me on the side of the road in the middle of the night. This is just grand. “Do you have a phone charger? My phone is completely dead.” 

“Uh yeah its upstairs. Do you wanna-” he cut himself off before speaking again. “Do you just wanna come up with me so you can change?” Right. So. Apparently this absolutely CAN  feel more awkward. Whatever. I need to charge my phone and honestly a change of clothes sounds devine. I silently follow Rafe up the stairs and into his room. “If you want you can take a shower to warm up. Your teeth haven’t stopped chattering since you got here.” he’s being frighteningly nice. 

“Um sure.” I say hesitantly as I am incredibly confused by his nice attitude. I plug in my phone and Rafe hands me one of his old t-shirts and a pair of booty shorts that were surely left here by some random girl, but honestly I don’t care. I have to get out of these clothes. “Thanks.” I say taking the clothes and entering his bathroom, closing and locking the door quickly behind me. Literally what the fuck. There is no way this is really happening. 

I take my time in the shower as I let the steaming hot water warm me up for a while. When I’m done, I put on the clothes that Rafe gave me, and open the bathroom door seeing him sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey Topper called you like five times when you were in the shower.” He says unfazed. My attitude shifts almost immediately. 

“You didn’t answer it did you?” I blurt out. Nice job y/n! That wasn’t suspicious at all!

“No…why would I?” he laughs clearly confused as I let out a sigh  of relief. Once again. Awkward silence. I take a seat on the edge of the bed going through my phone. “Are you gonna call him back?” he asks. Before I could answer him, his phone starts to ring. Toppers name is displayed on the screen. Rafe looks at his phone, then back to me, then back to his phone. 

“I am NOT here. Answer it. Put it on speaker.” I say frantically. Now he's intrigued.

“Hey Top!” Rafe answers. “Rafe! I fucked up man. I fucked up BAD! I’m coming over. I need a drink asap.” I am immediately shaking my head and mouthing ‘no’. “Top I can’t tonight man. My dad is on my ass and if Rose finds out I have someone over, I’m dead bro.” Is he seriously helping me right now? 

Topper scoffs on the other line. “Since when have you given a shit about what Rose thinks? I’m already on my way!” 

“Then turn around and go home man. I can’t tonight.”

“What is up with you dude? You never turn down a drink” its silent for a minute “Oh shit do you have a chick over right now?” Im disgusted at the change in tone in Top’s voice when he  brings up Rafe having a girl over.

“Yeah bro I do. And she’s alone right now in my bed so I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow.” Rafe responds, very quick to go along with Topper’s question.

“That’s my man!” Topper laughs “is she hot? She better be hot!”

Even Rafe rolls his eyes at Topper’s comment. “Yeah she’s hot. Okay gotta go man.” Rafe responds as he hangs up the phone. Is that true, does he think I’m hot? I don’t care. Do I?

I let out a huge sigh of relief that we dodged the bullet of Top showing up here. 

“So. Are you gonna tell me why I just had to lie to my best friend?”

I shift nervously. “Well technically you didn’t lie. There is a ‘chick’ here and she is sitting on your bed.” I try to make a joke avoiding this conversation at all costs. 

“Y/n.” He says, raising his eyebrows. He clearly wants an answer. 

“I broke up with Top and he didn’t take it well.” I say on an exhale. He doesn’t say anything because he’s not stupid. He has probably figured out that much already. I let out a heavy sigh. “He kicked me out of his car in the middle of the road three miles away from my house in the fucking rain because I accused him of cheating on me. He told me that I had no idea what I was talking about. He said I was crazy, and that I was making shit up. But I’m not. I know for a fact that I’m not. It’s not the first time either. He’s done it before, which I’m sure you already know since you’re his best friend and he probably tells you everything.” I make that realization as I’m rambling my story out to him. Rafe is probably well aware of Topper’s lack of loyalty. 

“I uh. I knew about it the first time.” He admits. His honestly with the situation makes me laugh a little as I roll my eyes.

“Of course you did. Being that it was with your sister. I’d be shocked if you didn’t know.” The look on Rafe’s face instantly changes. It’s almost like he’s holding something back. “Unless…Sarah wasn’t the first girl was she. There was someone else.” Tears that I have been pushing back for weeks start to well in my eyes. Not because I’m sad, but because I’m furious. Even Rafe doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, I grab my wet clothes and my barely charged phone, and head towards his bedroom door. “I should go. Thanks for the shower and-” 

“Y/n don’t be ridiculous” he says quickly following me. “You can’t leave right now that storm is getting worse” He puts his hand on the door, shutting it. 

I turn and he is standing close enough to me to create an odd sort of tension. 

“Why don’t you get him back?” Rafe suggests as I roll my eyes.

“I don’t want to get back with him Rafe I’m so ov-” he cuts me off.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean get him back. As in revenge.” he says as he steps closer to me. Jesus Christ I’m an absolute idiot.

“Revenge…right.” I laugh awkwardly. He continues to inch closer, creating an even bigger amount of tension. Not that tension is an unfamiliar thing with Rafe and I. There has always been a weird tension between us. Ya know…the whole best friends brother thing. I’ve known Rafe for almost 10 years. Something about his cocky attitude has always been attractive to me. Call it toxic. I don’t care. It’s just the truth. Rafe and I are standing right infront of each other. He is towering over me as my back is still to the door. 

“You know…They say that one of the best ways to get over a guy is to get under another.” He almost whispers while moving my hair out of my face. I can’t help but blush. The thought of getting back at Topper crossed my mind the second he cheated on me. The thought of getting back at him by hooking up with his best friend? That’s even better. Rafe leans down and starts to kiss my neck. “Rafe we probably shouldn’t do this” I whisper clearly enjoying it.

“Of course we shouldn’t. But I do shit that I shouldn’t do all the time.” He stops kissing my neck to look me in the face.

“Me too” I nod letting out a breath as I crash my lips onto his. The kiss is instantly filled with an insane amount of intensity. Rafe backs me up against the wall as he deepens the kiss. He moves from my mouth to my neck, leaving hickeys all over. He is making sure that I can’t hide what we are doing. And I’m totally here for it. His hands move from my hair, to my hips, to underneath the hem of my shirt. Well. Technically his shirt. I’m braless since my bra got soaked in that rain earlier. He quickly realizes this as his hand grazes over my tits. He starts to grip them while kissing me, making me moan softly until he stops for a second. 

“As hot as you look in my shirt…it’s coming off” he nearly growls. I lift my arms as he lifts the shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I reach for his shirt to take it off. Once he takes it off his mouth is back on mine. Our foreheads are pressed together as our bare chests are rising and falling against each other. He hoists me up, grabbing my ass as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. We don’t last long against the wall before we move to the bed.

He lays me down on the edge of the bed as he hovers over me kissing me yet again. Each kiss gets more aggressive. We bite each other's lips between kisses. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck leaving more marks. Slowly, he makes his way to my chests. The marks he makes get darker and darker. He puts his mouth over my nipple, making me moan as he slightly bites down. He quickly moves his hand up to cover my mouth.

“Shhh. Baby we gotta stay quiet.” He says as he moves from one nipple to the other. I moan into his hand as he stifles the sound that comes out. His hand moves from my mouth to my throat as he wraps his hand around it lightly. His lips meet mine again. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” holy shit. I moan into our kiss as his hand is on my throat. His hand travels down my body until its hovering over my shorts. He’s moving his hand from one thigh to the other. Barely grazing the spot where I need him the most. I breathe into our kiss as his hand stops at the waistband of my shorts. He’s such a fucking tease. He hovers his hand there for a minute sensing that I want more. 

“Oh my God Rafe” I moan out of anticipation.

“You want more baby?” he smirks against my lips.

“You know I do” Smartass.

“Say less” he moves from his position above me, to kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down, revealing my bare pussy. He pulls me closer to the edge of the bed and spreads my legs in one swift motion, causing my breath to hitch. He leans down and attaches his mouth to my clit. This of course causes another accidental moan to slip from my mouth. I immediately throw my own hands over my mouth to quiet the noise. His tongue is swirling circles over my clit as he inserts two fingers without warning. As hard as I am trying to stifle my sounds, nothing could stop the groan that I let out at this moment. He moves his fingers at a faster pace that matches what his tongue is doing. 

“Holy Shit Rafe.” I whine.

“You like that?” he smirks up at me. I nod and roll my eyes to the back of my head before shutting them tightly. But suddenly Rafe stops. “Open your eyes y/n. I want you to look at me when you cum. I want you to see who is making you feel this good.” I do as he says and open my eyes as I prop myself up on my elbows to get a better view. “Atta girl” He smirks before burying his face into me yet again. He adds a third finger as I throw my head back while remaining eye contact. He curls his fingers as he eats me out and I want to scream at the pressure building up inside of me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers through his hair as he grins up towards me. 

“Rafe! Oh my God” I let out a string of other soft noises and words.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me,” I look Rafe in the eyes as I jerk my hips and arch my back, completely unraveling in front of him. As he removes his fingers from inside of me, he brings them up to my mouth. “I want you to see how good you taste.” he says as I take his fingers into my mouth until they are clean. He removes his fingers from my mouth and laces his hands through my hair as he devours me with a kiss. 

“That was incredible.” I breathe heavily.

“Oh we aren’t done yet princess.” the sound of him calling me princess was enough to nearly send me over the edge again. 

“I’d hope not” I tangle my tongue with his as he deepens the kiss by pulling my hair back. I reach for his pants and I undo his belt. 

“Eager are we?” he scoffs, pulling away for a moment. He removes his belt and  his pants. Leaving his boxers for me to remove. I gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bed where I just was. When he sits, I climb onto his lap, straddling him over his boxers. I can tease too. I lean in kissing him as I slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap. I can feel him getting harder by the second. To be honest this is doing just as much for me as it is for him. I start to kiss his neck, leaving marks similar to the ones he left on me. I start to rock faster back and forth until he is letting out moans the way I was. I cover his mouth.

“I thought we had to stay quiet.” I give him a sly smile before kneeling on the floor and removing his boxers. I come face to face with his cock as I run my tongue up the side, looking up at him while I do it. I move my tongue to the other side slowly, taking my sweet time. 

“Fuck y/n” Rafe groans as he places his hand in my hair. 

I wrap my mouth around the head of his cock and start to suck slowly, using my hands to work the rest that I can’t fit in my mouth. I bob my head up and down while I look up at him, my eyes are starting to water. He grabs my head and slightly pushes me down further, and I can feel his tip hit my throat. When it does Rafe lets out a deep moan with a mumbled string of “oh fucks”. After a few minutes, I can sense that he is going to cum. I don’t bother asking where he wants to finish before he finishes in my mouth. I swallow and look up at him with a smile.

“Holy shit. You really know what you’re doing.” He lets out a heavy content sigh. “We still aren't done yet. I need to be inside you.” He says laying me back down on the bed. I still cannot believe that this is happening. 

Rafe wastes no time climbing on top of me leaving sloppy kisses up my chest and meeting my mouth with his. “You sure about this?” He looks down at me.

“Never been more sure about anything.” I nod. 

“Good” He says as he grabs a condom from his nightstand and puts it on. Seconds later, he is lining himself up at my entrance. His tongue plunges into my mouth as he enters inside of me. His cock stretched my pussy perfectly. He moves with smooth motions leaving us both moaning into each other's mouths as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He brings his hand to my throat once again,barely applying pressure, making me let out a moan that was too loud to be stifled. He doesn’t seem to care. 

“You like when my hands are around your neck?” He whispers in my ear.

“Yes! Oh my god yes” I am starting to get louder. He moves his hand from my throat to my mouth to keep me quiet again. I moan into his hand as his thrusts hit the perfect spot inside of me. He can tell that he has hit the spot when my hips start to buck in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. I am almost screaming into his hand. As he leans down to kiss me again. 

“You gonna cum with me?” he asks, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod unable to speak, to stop myself from screaming. “Words y/n. Use your words” 

“Fuck yes. I’m gonna cum!” I whine out. He thrusts in and out a few more times, hitting the spot perfectly making me squirm underneath him. With one final thrust, I arch my back as I scratch my nails down his, definitely leaving scratch marks. We cum simultaneously as we let out deep and hungry moans into each other's mouths. He just gave me the best orgasm I have ever had. He pulled out and laid next to me.

“Holy shit. I’ve waited so long to do that.” he says looking at me out of breath.

“Me too. I always had a crush on you ya know.” I say looking at him equally as out of breath.

“Yeah I know.” He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Took you long enough to do something about it.” I laugh back.

“Thank God I did. And I plan on doing it again. Just so you know.” I winked at me 

“I’d hope so.” I smile, laying there next to him. He was right. That was the best way to get over someone. 

** hi! I really hope you liked this. If you did and want to see more let me know what you want to see! I had fun writing this and in my many many years of writing fanfics this is somehow my first time writing smut so I hope it was okay lol ❤️

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fanfic #rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x female!mc #obx smut

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter sixty one

close to home | chapter sixty one

plot: daryl finds out what happened to the reader

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,790 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, injury, daryl being daryl A/N: thank you for reading!! how the fuck did I write 60 chapters of this I'm insane

Daryl thought about you every second of every day for the past five and a half years. He was too stubborn and pissed off to go after you the first few days, and then it got harder and harder as time went on. He tried to. At least once a week every week since you left, he tried to go to you, to Alexandria. He’d even made it as far as getting to the outskirts of the surrounding woods. But then he saw you on watch, laughing with a guy he didn’t know, and he turned around and went back. 

But he thought of you regardless. He cried almost every night in his self-pity and threw himself into trying to find Rick’s body. And after you screamed at him, and hit him, and cried to him about the other woman, he never saw her again. It didn’t matter that nothing happened, that it was only a few brief conversations in passing, but it hurt you so deeply. And he knew he fucked up. Which is also why he stayed away from you. 

Still, it hurt him. And because of it, he had several burn scars across his forearm from cigarettes. 

He even took a knife and carved your name with his last name into his crossbow because he knew there would never be anyone else. He gave you up after hurting you so profoundly and destroying the one thing in the world he cherished above everything else. He would’ve burned the world for you but ended up burning you. 

So he stayed by the river and tried to find his brother’s body. 

***

It was fall, and there was a bite in the air. Daryl sat by his morning fire with Dog beside him, staring at your name in the crossbow. He hadn’t eaten a thing in a day because of the guilt he felt. 

Then he heard a horse running and his name being yelled. It took him a second to realize it was Carol before he jumped up. 

“It’s (Y/N)!” Carol yelled, out of breath as the horse trotted in a circle. “She’s hurt.”

Daryl chewed on his lip as anxiety filled him. “What happen'?”

“She was shot.” 

The muscles in his face dropped. “Take me to her.” 

“She’s not stable yet, and Siddiq is coming in from Alexandria, but it’ll take hours.” 

“Take me to her, now!” Daryl swung his crossbow over his shoulder, mounted the horse behind Carol, and whistled for Dog to follow. 

***

It took longer than Daryl ever would’ve imagined to get to the Kingdom. He hadn’t realized how far out he was. But when he saw the approaching gates, he felt like throwing up. Carol didn’t slow down as the gates opened, and she led the horse straight to the medical building toward the back of the community. 

Sitting outside were Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, and a man he didn’t know. 

“What happened?” Daryl yelled as he got off the horse. “What the fuck happened to my wife?”

“They were on a run. She got shot. One of our men was killed as well.” Ezekiel said. “She’s inside, follow me.”

Daryl walked anxiously behind Ezekiel into the building and directly to a room toward the back. The door was shut, and he hesitated for a second before he walked in. 

The room was quiet, aside from an unsteady beeping. You were lying in a bed hooked up to a machine. An oxygen mask was over your mouth, and Daryl saw two discarded tanks in the corner of the room. 

Tears burned his eyes as he walked closer to you. You were out, of course, and thick, white bandages dried with blood were wrapped around your middle. Your hair was braided back like always, and sweat was dotting your face. Your skin was paler than he’d ever seen. 

“How did this happen?” Daryl asked angrily and turned around. “I wanna know right fuckin’ now!”

“She got shot, Daryl. There is nothing anyone could’ve done.” Carol said. “You being angry right now is not helping.”

The door pushed open, and a man named Adam walked in; Daryl knew him as the Kingdom’s doctor. Or at least the best they had. 

“Can you tell us again, Adam?” Carol asked. 

The doctor walked up to your body and checked your heartbeat as he looked around the room. “The bullet went through what I can assume is her appendix, and with no exit wound, it’s still in there. The bruising on her stomach leads me to that conclusion as well.”

“Why ain’ ya take it out?” Daryl yelled. 

“We can’t cut her open and remove it without putting her under. Her body will go into shock, and I won’t be able to operate. Siddiq from Alexandria is bringing medication, and he’ll be better equipped with the surgery.”

Daryl rubbed his forehead. “Is that it? Ya just a waste a damn space!”

“Daryl!” Carol yelled. 

Adam looked at Daryl, your body, and Carol and Ezekiel. “I’ve radioed Alexandria, and Aaron told me Siddiq has already left on their fastest horses, but…”

“But what?”

Adam hesitated. “She lost too much blood on the way here, they were too far out. We don’t know how long it’ll take Siddiq to get here; it’ll be hours at the earliest. We’ve done a few transfusions already.”

“So what does that mean?” Ezekiel asked. 

Daryl was already shaking his head.

“If he doesn’t get here soon, she won’t survive the night.”

***

“Daryl… Daryl, stop!” 

The chair broke against the wall, and Daryl paced around the room and grabbed another one. Within a few seconds, it was broken against the wall. 

“You aren’t helping anything!”

“It’s my damn fault!” Daryl yelled, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. “If I had been there… if I wasn’ such a piece of shit!” He kicked the wall, leaving a dent the size of his boot.  

“Back off,” Carol told the guard that was standing by. “Daryl, this is not your fault. You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

But all Daryl could see was red. “I shoulda been there!” He nearly screamed, punching the wall. The old drywall crumbled against his fist, and he struck it twice before blood showed up on the wall. 

“Daryl!” Carol grabbed his arm. “Daryl, you need to stop.”

The archer pulled his arm away from Carol with a grunt and looked at the guard who was staring at him. “Ya got a problem, asshole? Who are ya anyway?”

The man swallowed the lump in his throat. “Me? My name is Ryan.”

Daryl’s face dropped, and he walked up to the guard and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “What the hell ya doin’ here? Huh? Why you waitin' for her?”

“She’s my friend.”

Daryl slammed the man into the wall. “Did ya sleep with her? Tell me right now, asshole.”

“No-No-I mean, I asked her out a few times, but she always said no. Said she was married.”

“Ya lyin’ to me?”

Carol grabbed Daryl’s arm and pulled as hard as she could. “Daryl, if you do not calm down, I will have them lock you up.”

Daryl shrugged her off and slammed Ryan into the wall again. “Did ya fuck my wife? Tell me the fuckin’ truth!”

“No, no!”

Daryl grunted and pushed away from him as he began to pace back and forth. Carol sent Ryan out of the room and told him not to let anyone else in. 

“Daryl, you have no right to be acting this way. You left her.”

“I didn’ leave shit!”

“Yes, you did!” Carol seethed. “You don’t think I know what happened between the two of you? How you pushed her away until she was nothing but a crumbled pile of mess because of you? You two aren’t together anymore.”

“Then why the hell ya get me anyway?”

“Because when she was bleeding out on the ground, she was crying for you, you asshole!” Carol yelled. “And I don’t know why she’s still hanging onto you after so long, but I owed it to her to get you. Now you can either man up and sit by her side or get the hell out of my Kingdom!” 

Daryl paused at her words. “She really was cryin’ for me?” His voice was soft.

“Yes. She was.”

He couldn’t stop himself from crying as he sank to his knees. “What did I do? How can I fix this?” He cried. 

Carol’s face softened, and she walked over to him. “Well, for starters, you can go pick flowers for her to put by her bed. And then you can get the only chair you didn’t break and sit next to her until Siddiq shows up.”

“I can’ lose her…”

“You already have, Daryl. But if you want her back, then start with what I just told you to do.”

***

It was past sunset, and Daryl was pacing back and forth in your room. Your body was lying there, helpless, but the beeping of your heartbeat was music to his ears--even if it wasn’t steady. 

Fresh cut flowers were in a cup sitting on the table, and he looked at them every few seconds, trying to decide if he should get you more before you woke up. But it was getting late, and Siddiq wasn’t here yet and he needed to be by your side. 

His eyes were red and swollen from crying, but that didn’t stop him from shedding tears every time he looked at you. The only thing he could think of was how much of an asshole he’d been to you. He’d wasted five and a half years chasing after ghosts when he had you right in front of him. 

Daryl kept thinking about the day he left you crying in the mud after begging him to come home. More than anything, he wanted to go back to that moment, scoop you up and never let you go again. He was so stupid. 

The chair scraped against the floor as he sat down next to you. He carefully leaned against the bed and took your hand. It was littered with old cuts and scars, and he could remember each one you got over your time together. 

“My crazy girl,” He mumbled, kissing your hand and then holding it against his cheek. “Please fight, darlin’. I can’ live in this world without ya. ‘M so sorry for bein’ such an asshole to ya. I’ll do anythin’ if ya just keep fightin’.”

His eyes started to burn with tears again, and he laid his forehead against your bed as he sobbed. “Please, God, don’ take her. Ya can take me, I swear it. Won’ put up a fight or nothin'. Just don’ take her, please… please….” Daryl hadn’t prayed in a long, long time, but he kept repeating himself and to a God he hoped was still up there. 

When he sat back up and looked at your face, he felt anger coursing through his body. “Darlin’, please don’ leave me.” He cried. “I’ll do anythin’ to fix up, anythin’ I promise. Just stay and let me. Please, (Y/N), please.”

The beeping quickened, and he watched your chest expand shakily as you took a deep breath. His heart pounded as he thought you would wake up, and his prayers were answered. 

But then you exhaled, and the beeping stopped. 

“(Y/N)...” Daryl stood as he shook your hand. “(Y/N)!”

Before thinking, he ran to the door and started screaming for Adam. When he heard footsteps, he ran back over to you. “She stopped breathing!”

“Daryl… she’s lost so much blood. She wasn’t going to make it through the night without an operation. Even if we get her heart beating, it won’t last without the operation. It’ll be cruel to do that to her. There’s nothing I can do now…” Adam said with sorrow. 

“No, no,” Daryl shook his head. “Ya get over here right now and start pumping her chest. Now!” He screamed. 

Out of fear, Adam did what the archer asked. Daryl took off your oxygen mask and waited until Adam gave him a nod before breathing air into you. The two of them repeated the cycle a few times before the door opened, and Daryl heard Michonne and Rosita yelling your name. 

“Oh my God,” Siddiq said. “Get out of my way, now! Get out of the room!” 

Daryl stepped back, shaking his head as he watched Siddiq and Adam start to try and bring you back to life. He let Carol drag him out of the room in his hopefulness, and he leaned against the wall as he started to cry again.

“‘M gonna lose her tonight, I know it.” 

Rosita shook her head and wiped away her own tears. “You lost her a long time ago, asshole.” 

***

Daryl was sitting in the corner of the waiting room. His eyes were stinging from how swollen they were, and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. It had been hours since he watched you die before him. But he hadn’t heard anything else. Siddiq and Adam hadn’t come out of the room, and he had to believe that was good. 

He kept thinking of your laugh and that beautiful smile that had him in love with you before realizing it. He thought of your soft hands in his and the way you giggled when he kissed you. He could feel your touch on his skin, rubbing circles in his back, or your fingers playing with his hair. It would kill him if he never got it again. He wouldn’t survive your death. He’d put an arrow through his skull. Or maybe he’d go insane and drag you around as a walker just to keep you with him. 

It was morning when Siddiq and Adam walked out of the room. They had blood on their clothes and looked exhausted, but they walked out with relief. 

“We had to remove her appendix, but that was where most of the internal bleeding came from. She’s got two broken ribs, one from the impact and the other from chest compressions. She’s heavily sedated, but she’s stable. She’ll probably be up tonight or tomorrow.”

Daryl started crying at the news; he wasn’t the only one. 

“Thank you,” Michonne said and hugged them both. “Thank you both so much.”

“You guys can sit there, but it’ll be a while before she wakes. We all should get some rest. I’d like to give her blood before, though. Is anyone an O?” Siddiq said. 

“I am,” Rosita said. “You can take as much as you need for her.”

Daryl followed Rosita and Siddiq into the room and watched quietly as Rosita donated a bit more blood than a typical amount. But he was thankful for it, and he thanked her quietly. She didn’t respond. 

He insisted on staying with you, so after everyone came in and made their peace with you being alive, they went to rest. 

Once the door was closed, Daryl carefully grabbed and kissed your hand a few times. “Thank you for fightin’ darlin’. That’s my girl.”

***

A few hours later, Daryl was asleep with his head on the bed next to your hip when he felt you stir. He was immediately up and staring at you as your eyes opened for the first time.

“‘M here,” Daryl said, taking your hand.

You looked around the room with hazy eyes, the sedation running through your veins still. When your eyes finally met Daryl’s, he sighed with relief. “Hi, beautiful.”

“This… dream…. Daryl….”

Your head hit the pillow again, and you were out. But he didn’t care. You were going to be okay.

***

The next morning, you were awake. Michonne, Rosita, and Carol were in the room with Daryl, and when he heard you waking up, he let the women stand before him. He was scared of what you would say to him without the sedation. 

“Michonne?” Your voice questioned whether you were awake, and he wanted more than anything to hold you.

“I’m here, (Y/N). We’re here. Me, Rosita, and Carol.”

He heard you moan, and then you started to cry. “It hurts, everything hurts.”

“I know, I know. Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember those guys coming out of the woods… and I remember looking down and seeing so much blood. And then Carol and Ryan trying to stop the bleeding…” You said through tears. “It hurts, something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Rosita said. “Siddiq looked at you this morning. You have two broken ribs, babe; it’s gonna hurt for a while.” 

He heard you let out a sigh and then groan in pain. “Is Henry okay?”

“He’s just fine.”

“Okay…good…” 

You were out again.

***

When you woke up later that day, Daryl was the only one in the room. He heard you stirring and was anxious but had to talk to you. He had to. 

You groaned in pain as you adjusted on the bed before realizing who was sitting next to you. When your eyes met him, Daryl felt his heart in his throat. 

“Get out.” 

“(Y/N), please,”

“Get out. I don’t want you here. You shouldn’t have come.”

Daryl tried to grab your hand but you pulled it away. “Darlin’-”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your anything.”

He shook his head. “Ya still my wife, ya still my girl. Ya always will be, even if ya don’ think so yaself.” 

“Fuck you.” You muttered and then groaned in pain. “Why are you here? Don’t you have a river to be in or that woman to fuck.”

Daryl sighed and moved from the chair, getting down on his knees beside the bed. “Crazy girl, I was never with that woman. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you. Get the fuck out, Daryl.”

“I swear on my life, on everythin’ I have which I know ain’ much. I only spoke to her a few times, and that day ya came by, the last time… I never saw her again. I never fucked her. I promise ya.” You turned away from him and stared at the wall. 

Daryl started crying again because he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take what he’d done to your marriage and to you. “‘M so sorry, darlin’. I hate what I did to ya, what I did to us. I love ya so fuckin’ much. I’ll do anythin’ to make it right. Just tell me how.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you looked at him. “I will never forgive you. I gave you everything. Everything. And you threw it in my face. I hate you.”

“Don’ say that. Ya don’ mean it.”

“Oh, I do.” 

Daryl hung his head and tried to calm himself down. “Just tell me what I can do…”

It was silent for a long time, and Daryl was too afraid to say anything else in fear of you telling him to leave and never come back. His heart wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he stared at your clenched hand for a second before slowly grabbing it. You tensed but let him hold it, and he rubbed it the same way you used to when he was angry. 

“I don’t hate you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry I said that.” 

“I deserve it.”

You didn’t argue, but you did pull your hand away. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. If I had known all it would’ve taken for you to talk to me was getting shot, I would’ve done it long ago.”

“Ya almost died. Ya did die.”

You sighed and leaned your head against the pillow. “Why did you come?”

“Because I love ya.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

Your words caused his chest to hurt, and he felt tears slip from his eyes. “I love ya, I do.”

“Stop.”

“I love ya more than anythin’ else in the world, and I was the biggest idiot for lettin’ ya go. I ain’ gonna do it ever again. Ya my wife and I was a shitty husband, but I’m here now, and I’m back, and I’m beggin’ ya for just one more chance.” He met your teary eyes and felt you grab his hand again. “Please say somethin’, darlin’.”

“Kiss me.”

Daryl didn’t hesitate to do so. He could taste the salt from his tears, but more importantly, he could taste you. It was so familiar even after all these years, and it made his chest beat ferociously. All he wanted to do was wrap himself around you, hold you, cry, and beg for forgiveness.

His lips moved against yours slowly, and when he pulled away, he saw tears falling from your face. 

“You should leave.” You whispered.

“No,” His voice cracked. 

“That was goodbye, Daryl.”

“No.”

“You don’t get to just say no.”

“‘M ya husband, through thick and thin. Ya my wife.”

“I gave you the ring back years ago.”

Daryl sat back down and held up his necklace. “I still got it. I kept it. It belongs to ya. Please take it, darlin’. Please.”

“What happened between you and her?”

“Nothing,” Daryl said as he got down to his knees. He felt his heart quicken at the change of tone in your voice. "I swear to ya. I just knew Dog, and he followed me home.”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

Daryl blinked back tears; you were slipping away again and he didn’t know what to say. “‘Cause ‘m desperate. And ya the only woman I’ve ever looked at. The only one I ever cared about. Ya know that, (Y/N). Ya know I would never do that.”

“Why wasn’t I enough?”

Your question broke his heart and his tears started falling again. “Oh darlin’, ya was always enough. More than enough. More than I deserve… I don’ know what happened. All I know is that I regret it, and I wanna spend the rest of my life makin’ it up to you.”

You groaned in pain as you moved on the bed and Daryl looked at you with concern. “I’m in a lot of pain, and this is a lot for me to handle right now. I wanna sleep.”

“Can I stay? Wanna watch over ya.” You glanced at him as he intertwined your fingers. “Please darlin’, please, let me stay.”

Finally, you nodded. 

#daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x y/n #twd #daryl twd #daryl dixon #daryl x you

[multifan2022]

Cyclone x Mavsdaughter 4

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Your head snapped to the side as you heard your daughter's voice. You watched as Penny called for her to stay on the deck. But Emery was a daddy's girl at heart, and no one ever could stop her from getting to Beau. Your body tensed as Beau crouched down to scoop her into his arms. You could feel the shock in the group around you. Could hear the whispers of “Daddy?” And “What the fuck”. That last one came from Rooster you knew. Emerys voice cut threw the panic though “Mommy! Look Daddys here!” 

Beau looked at you and even with his sunglasses on you knew he was looking at you with sympathy. He knew this isn't how you wanted anything to come out, but life was pretty cruel. “The better question is why you're here little lady.. Why aren't you at school?” Beau asked as you got closer to him, having broken away from the group. You answered and told him it was canceled, trying to ignore the glare Maverick was giving you as you stepped next to your little family. 

Beau leaned down and kissed your forehead, resting his free hand on your hip as he looked at the group of aviators over your head. Javy and Jake looked unsurprised, because Jake already knew, and what Jake knew Javy knew. Nat, Hondo, Bob, Payback and Fanboy all looked confused. The others had run off to play on their own, not being part of the group in the same way. But when his eyes landed on Rooster, he could see the pure anger rolling off the man. One that he desperately wanted to shield you from, but didnt know how to.

When he pulled back, he could see tears in your eyes. At this moment you weren't Captain Simpson, his strong beautiful wife. You were the girl he watched stand at your tap out ceremony alone. The one who cried when a random woman came and tapped her out. The girl who refused to believe for the longest time that he was even remotely interested in her. The one he didnt see again until you entered Top Gun. The one who had to rebuild herself with the help of himself after being left by not only her father, but her best friend and first love. He wasn't happy to see the sadness and vulnerability in your eyes. 

“If you want.. You can invite them over, I'll call Solomon, I'm sure they will watch Em for the night so we can all talk..” Beau said, moving his hand from your hip to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You nodded but didn't make a move to do anything, so he sighed and kissed your forehead again. “Go home, I'll meet you there.” You didn't look back as you kissed Emerys cheek and told her to be good for her uncle. Practically running to your jeep before speeding out of the parking lot. 

Beau sighed again, setting Em down “Baby go get your stuff from Penny and say thank you. You're gonna go stay with Uncle Solo for a while ok?” The little girl nodded and talked animatedly about her uncle's dogs for a moment before running to get her stuff. Cyclone turned and let himself fall back into work mode in a nanosecond as he looked down at Maverick. The shorter man was glaring at him in a way that he assumed was supposed to be intimidating, but he was nowhere near scared.. Like at all. 

“I'll text you our address.. You can show up in an hour and we can all talk like adults. Or not, it doesn't really matter to me. But this is probably your last chance to have a shot at being in your daughter or granddaughter's life.. So choose carefully Maverick.” 

~~~

Thirty minutes later the squad was following Mavericks bike as they passed through a clearly gated community. The security guard waved them on, having already received a call from Beau and watched sadly as you pulled through crying. You were both highly respected members of the community and he hated seeing you upset. The gps led him into the driveway of a gorgeous 2 story Crosby style home. Phoenix gasped as she and Bob got out of her car and commented about how it looked custom. Even from the outside it was clear the home was both lived in and taken care of. Your jeep was parked in the open 4 car garage, waiting for Beaus truck. Three bikes, one that was clearly for Emery, a pogo stick, skateboard, roller blades and a handful of other toys were leaned against the far wall. 

Rooster didn't know how to feel about any of this. He couldn't see past his anger. Anger that you had moved on and he hadn't. That some rather large part of him always thought you would just be waiting on him. He was mad that Emery had dark hair, but it didn't have the golden brown color his did, it had the deep chocolate brown that Beaus did. That her eyes were green instead of brown. That her last name as well as yours were Simpson instead of Bradshaw. 

Deep deep down he knew he had nobody to blame but himself, and maybe a lack of therapy but mostly himself. But he couldn't stop looking at this huge house and comparing it to the bungalow his parents had left him. His was a nice home, but this was immaculate in comparison and it only made his anger hotter. When they stepped inside he took in the huge wood doors and the stone floors clicked against everyone's steps. While everyone besides Maverick ooh and ahhed over how absolutely breathtaking the home was, he just watched you. 

They all followed you down the hall, looking into a huge living room with a 70 in TV and a large wrap around couch. Then an equally as beautiful kitchen and dining room, before they entered a billiards room. All the guys making comments about wanting to play as they stepped back outside and fell silent again. You had led them to the private deck out back. It has multiple seats and tables scattered around it. But it was clear you wanted them to sit at the long one with 10 or so seats. Phoenix and Hondo were busy gushing over the bird of paradise everywhere, while Javy was talking about the pool with a little waterfall and hot tub. 

They didn't notice when you crossed the deck and stepped into sliding glass doors and dropped thick curtains, but Mav and Rooster did. When you walked back towards them you nervously looked back over your shoulder, hoping to see your husband but he clearly isn't back yet. You didn't know but Solomon had met Beau at the car to take Emery. He was now speeding across the neighborhood to get back to you. He didn't want to leave you alone as much as you didnt want to be alone. You stepped back to the table and sighed, “I ah.. I ordered pizzas.. There's a fridge right here by the grill.. Its got beer and water if anyone wants some..” 

You tried to swallow past the thickness in your throat as a few of them got up and helped themselves. Jake almost felt bad when he noticed how nervous you were, and by the end of the night the guilt of wanting this to happen would be eating him alive. As he looked around his eyes watching the beautiful dark skinned man grab two beers, he wondered how he would feel if someone found out about him and Javy and outed them before they were ready. He thought about pulling you aside and apologizing but knew that would just make things worse. When everyone resettled you anxiously tapped your fingers until Hondo sat his hand on top of yours and squeezed. 

“I feel like a dummy.. I've known you were married for years and never thought to ask. It's shocking to me that it's Admiral Simpson of course.. But now that I think back I can see it.. He looks at you differently. Softer look, softer tone, I can't believe I never second guessed it.” He squeezed your hand again before pulling back, and him speaking seemed to be what everyone needed to start talking. 

Phoenix was next, “Yeah I obviously don't know you well but it is crazy to think of Cyclone as a husband.. Even more as a dad. He's just so stoic and domineering, I dont think Ive ever really pictured him having a life outside of work.” She pauses clearly contemplating something before speaking softer “Which now that I think about it is kinda shitty..” She had seen the way he held you, kissed your head and taken on a burden you clearly couldn't. The soft way he looked at both you and your child on the beach. How he smiled down at Emery as she ran to him. It was clear that there was a side to Cyclone they were not privy to. 

The others nodded in agreement as you smiled shyly. “Beau is.. Complicated I guess you could say. He very much has a work life and a home life and beyond me he likes to keep them separate. We try to not interact much at work, so that people aren't saying things..” You look at Hangman out of the corner of your eye and see him cringe a little. “It's also not widely known, clearly, that we are married. People see Beau as someone who's married to his job. Noone thinks of people like him as people who do things like go to their daughters soccer games and such. Between that and me not changing my name it's really only known in the higher ups. And since I don't get moved around a lot thankfully, it's not gossiped about.” Sighing you look down at the table and start picking at a spot before speaking quieter “It's mostly just talk about how people didn't realize Maverick had a daughter.. So that kept the spotlight off my marriage.” 

The group was silent again as they all turned to Mav who had an unreadable expression on his face. Rooster scoffed, not even trying to hide it behind a swig of beer as he looked at you. You just stared back at him, daring him to say what you knew he wanted to say. It only took a moment or two before he broke “So how long after you left did you wait before jumping into bed with a commanding officer? That's how you got out of Mav pulling your papers too huh.” Even though you were all outside, and the air was cooling off thanks to the setting sun and the fans on the overhang, it felt like it all had been sucked out. Nobody dared to move, or even blink as the two of you watched each other. 

“You left me Bradley.. You left then Maverick left. And not that it's anyone's business but I didn't not jump into bed with Beau-” Mavericks voice cut you off as he sighed and wiped a hand down his face “God it's weird to hear you call him that..” Anger was starting to roll under your skin as you looked at the two men who had clearly built an unspoken alliance to try and make you feel bad. The shitty thing was, it was working. These two men had broken you into tiny pieces when they left. Made you feel small, and unworthy as the dust settled. So no matter how angry you felt right now, pieces of that broken girl were starting to shine threw. 

“I call him by his name outside of work, because we are married.. And no.. Maverick didn't pull my papers because until the start of this mission he didn't even know I was in the Navy.. Ice knew, but I've always been second to you Bradshaw.. They weren't worried about me anymore because I suddenly had no attachments to you.” Bradley scoffed again, not believing at all that Mav didn't know. Maverick was offended and spoke again. “You're telling me Ice knew? Do you really think I wouldn't have been there for you had I known?” 

It was your turn to scoff, even if there were tears streaming down your face. “Ice knew I was an aviator, Slider was one of my Top Gun teachers the first time I was here. And yeah Maverick.. As a matter of fact, I know you wouldn't be there. Ice said you never once asked him to look for me after you guys up and left. So you don't know that I stood at my tap out ceremony and cried when one of my classmates' moms tapped me out. You don't know that I pushed BEAU away for almost a year because I thought I was unlovable because my dad left me. Who wants a girl who isnt even loved by her father?!” 

You were full on crying by this point, Hondo had leaned forward again and grabbed one of your hands. He had always had mad respect for your dad, but at this moment he was so angry at him. “I had to walk myself down the aisle. I've had to explain time and time again that ‘yes i'm the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. No we are not the same. And No I can't tell him you said hi.. He hasn't spoken to me in almost 20 years.’ I got myself into flight school. For your information, Bradley, I didn't meet Beau officially until I was 26, YOU left ME when I was 17. So I waited almost ten years, sorry that wasn't good enough for you but what did you expect? Did you think that I would just be sitting around waiting to see if one day you would want me again?” 

Bradley was getting angry again, his mouth was saying things before his brain was even processing them. “Well I sure as hell didn't think I'd come back to find you married with kids.. I can't believe you sold yourself out to someone like him. Was it really the daddy issues like Hangman said? Pathetic.” The last word was whispered but everyone heard it. Phoenix aimed a kick at Bradleys knee that had him grunting in pain but not backing down. “What happened to ‘Forever and Always’, I know its from that stupid show you loved growing up but I thought we were end game. But no, you're just like your dad, lying to me and leaving.” Over Bradleys angry voice, nobody heard the front door shut, or the clicking of Beaus' shoes as he carried pizzas towards the deck.

You were so blown away by everything he said that you couldn't even respond, unfortunately that gave Maverick time to speak. “Past everything Bradley said, I can't believe you never reached out to me. You clearly had contact with Tom, you never asked him to ask me to call.. Never thought ‘maybe my dad will want to know I'm marrying someone who hates him?’ Never wondered if I would want to walk you down the aisle? Jesus.. You kept my granddaughter away from me!” 

You jumped slightly when he slammed his beer bottle down on the table. The rest of the group was glaring at the two men as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. You didn't know what to say, your dad was angry with you and you couldn't find the part of you who didn't care. The part that spent years telling yourself that you deserved to be happy. To move on from waiting for them to come back, that if they don't care neither do you. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, boxes of pizza were unceremoniously dropped onto the table startling everyone again. 

No one around the table had heard Beau come in, but they could tell by the look on his face as he watched Maverick that he had heard everything. He turned and held his hand out to you, watching as you silently got up and grabbed it. Following him into the billiards room before he pulled the door shut behind him. Hondo rounded on Maverick as the rest watched Beau speak to you through the glass door. “Pete, I have always stood behind you but you are being an ass. This is 100% your fault. I didn't even know you had a kid before I met her! And I've known you her whole life! Get it together before I lose all respect for you!” 

 Hondos' rant was cut off by the door opening and closing again. Every single one of them swore they could feel a shift in the air, like all the air around them was suddenly circling. Cyclone was giving off the energy that earned him his name, but he promised himself he would try to contain the storm. Minimize the destruction, for his wife if nothing else. He wanted to see you happy again, like you were on the beach earlier. He knew how hard it was for you to hold back from those your own age. He also knew you did it as a way to protect yourself and your marriage. 

If no one got close to you, they couldn't use your husband's position against you. They couldn't use it for their own advancement, they couldn't hold it over your head or push for you to talk to him. You had made comments about how you also didn't want any young officers to find any reason to try and flirt with you. You didn't want to give off the wrong impression and hurt Beau, knowing that he was always worried about the age difference. It never occurred to you that your husband was more than confident in your marriage. Never once in the years since you had Emery had he ever worried about you leaving. 

Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was a very confident man, not in the way Jake is, but in his own way. He's the type of man to buy you flowers because he saw them on his way home and thought they were pretty. He planned not only date nights with you, but daddy daughter dates because he always wanted Em to know how she should be treated. Cyclone is a firm believer in his children learning from the best, and when it came to being a man, and being a husband he was the best. Emery would never get a better mother or woman to learn from than you, and he strived every day to be your equal. Even if he would never believe that he was. 

“I sent Y/n to grab some towels and a case of extra swimsuits, I'm sure there's something that would fit you all.. After you eat your welcome to the pool or hot tub if you would like to stay.” Beau tapped his fingers on the table as he stood, looking around at the men and women at his table. His voice was hard as steel and cold as he spoke again, “But let me make this abundantly clear. This is MY home, mine and MY wifes. We have owned this home since before it was built, we brought our daughter home from the hospital to here.. And I will not in anyways tolerate you or anyone disrespecting her, not anywhere but especially not here. This place is meant to be her safe haven and I will throw you out on your ass before I let you even chip away at any of that safety.” 

Jake and Phoenix swore the hairs on their arms rose as he spoke. When he was done everyone but Bradley and Maverick nodded. “The two of you have done nothing but disrespect my wife time and time again. From before I even knew her, now unfortunately I can't go back and fix that, but I can't stop it from happening anymore. SO let's settle a few things, First and foremost” Beau held up one finger, resisting the urge to shove it into Rooster's eye as he spoke. “You, Lieutenant Bradshaw will talk to and treat my wife like she is one of your commanding officers, because she is. No amount of personal knowledge of someone, or time frame of friendship overrides that in the Navy. And son.. If you keep acting like you being her first love means you have some type of claim or hold over her, I will have you packing your bags and flying for American Airlines so fast it will make your head spin.” 

Everyone's eyes widened, this was an even newer side to Beau, one that he had never really needed to show. Phoenix, Hondo, and Javy were impressed. Jake and Bob were about to piss their pants. “You may have been her first love, Son.. But I intend to be her last.. And yes that's from said stupid TV show you were talking about earlier. It's called ‘The Vampire Diaries’ and ‘The Originals’. You may hold all her firsts, but I hold her bests, and her lasts, so I suggest you get over it quickly because I AM her FIRST and ONLY husband. The FIRST and ONLY father of her children, so it would be in your best interest to wrap that thick skull around that knowledge.” Bradley stared down at the table, his anger was still present but he could feel himself cooling off.. He just wanted to leave, try to sort all this out in his head before he talked to you again. 

Beau could see the gears turning in Bradleys head and decided he had given him enough. Now he turned to the only man he could truly say he hated. “You Maverick. Have been dangerous and irresponsible from the day you joined the Navy. Not only in how you fly but in the lifestyle you live. I can completely understand going out of your way to help raise your passed wingman's son. It was commendable that you tried to help him, even if you failed. However it is not commendable that you left your own child behind, what would the Bradshaws say if they knew that you haven't spoken to your daughter in 20 years? That you didn't know she was someone's wife? Someone's mother?”

Maverick didn't want to think about that, he tried not to as he kept listening. “You left and shattered a 17 year old girl, left her to fend for herself. To grow up herself. You didn't even know she joined the Navy but you knew Bradley did. You didn't even know where she was living.. IF she was living. You are the worst kind of parent and every single day Y/n proves that she is better than you in EVERY single way. From how she teaches at Top Gun, to how she raises our daughter. You can not like me all you want but you will respect my wife, your daughter or I will have you dishonorably discharged faster than your boyfriend can read. It will be done and signed before Iceman even has a chance to protest, do not play with me.” 

The two of them stare each other down, it was clear that Cyclone was not going to back down. “You can either grow up.. And try to be in your granddaughter's life or you can leave now. But if you leave right now the door will not open again.. With that being said, you are all welcome to stay or leave. At the moment I don't really care, I'm going to check on my wife and when I get back those who want to leave should probably be gone.”

~

~

Who do think will stay and who will go?

~

What do you want to happen next?

~

@luckyladycreator2 @winterrebel04 @millieb-3199 @xoxabs88xox @archaeologydigit @topgunruinedme @lillyrosenight @blessednotluckyme  @scorpiomindfuck​  @bregarc @person-wholikes-reads @hangmandruigandmav @beaner-life-23 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @smolalien13

@

tigerfan24

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ravensmadreads

 @

notryagainlater

 @

scorpiomindfuc

k

#beau cyclone simpson x reader #beau cyclone simpson #beau simpson #Beau Simpson x reader #beau simpson imagine #top gun imagine #topgun maverick #Cyclone x reader #cyclone x you

[thebadgerclan]

Break The Sound Barrier

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox

Summary: When the emails leak, there's only one place Alex needs to be...

A/N: GO WATCH THIS MOVIE IF YOU HAVE PRIME!!!!! I had to expand on this particular scene, I just had to

(I've been writing some multi-chapter fics for firstprince over on AO3 if anyone's intersted!)

“You know what?  I’m coming to London tonight.  Just hold on until I get there.  We’ll figure this out.  As soon as the words left Alex’s mouth, Henry had been restless.  Pacing the halls, organizing and reorganizing his bookshelf, weeding out David’s toys, trying (and failing) to throw out the old ones (how could he, when he literally gave him puppy-dog eyes?), mind numbing tasks to distract him from the literal ocean separating him from the man he loved when he needed him most.

After three hours, Henry had taken to staring out the window like a war-era woman waiting for her husband to return from war.  Then a car pulled up to the gates, and Henry thought he might throw himself out the window to get to Alex faster.  But he settled for hurrying from his perch, down the stairs, and….There he was.  His Alex, his love, he was here.  Henry was barreling down the stairs, Alex was running up them, and they met in the middle, crashing into each other, clinging to each other desperately.  

They sank to the ground, in the middle of the stairs, wrapped in each other’s arms.  Henry was holding Alex like he might evaporate if he let go, and Alex was holding Henry like he wanted to shelter him from the world, like he wanted nothing more than to protect him from anything and everything.  Finally, Alex spoke.  “I’m here, baby,” he whispered, and Henry shattered, turning his face into Alex’s neck and sobbing.

Alex tightened his arms around him, kissing the top of his head.  “I’m sorry,” Henry cried.  “I’m so sorry.”  “Baby, Henry, no.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  None of this is either of our faults, baby.”  Henry only sniffled, keeping his face buried in Alex’s shoulder.  “Henry, look at me.”  Slowly, he lifted his head, and Alex’s heart cracked seeing his puffy and red-rimmed eyes.  “Baby,” Alex cooed, wiping tears from Henry’s cheeks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  “Whatever happens next, I’m with you.  I love you, Henry, and I’ll fight for you.”

“I love you too,” Henry replied.  “God, I love you.  But…I’m scared, Alex.”  Alex nodded, resting his forehead against Henry’s.  “I’m scared too, baby.  But I’ve got you, whatever they try to throw at us.  Because I love you so fucking much, Hen, and….I feel forever about you.”  Henry nodded, fresh tears welling up.  But these were happy tears, spurred on by Alex’s appearance, his willingness to be here, to fight for him.  And Henry, well, he felt forever about him too.

After a few minutes, Alex coaxed Henry to his feet and shepherded him back to his rooms, where they barely managed to climb into bed before Henry was wrapped around Alex like a vine.  Henry was exhausted, and being in Alex’s arms was like a sedative.  Yet he was reluctant to sleep, fearing that when he woke, Alex would be gone.  “Go to sleep, baby,” he whispered, smoothing Henry’s hair back from his face.  “I promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

Eventually, Henry nodded off, and for the first time in weeks, he slept soundly.  When he woke, Alex’s arms were no longer around him, but there was still a warm presence at his side.  When Henry opened his eyes, it was to find Alex propped up against the headboard, David curled in his lap.  “Morning, baby,” Alex said, a warm smile on his face.  “I hate to break it to you, but I think your dog loves me more.”  Henry rolled over, propping himself up on an elbow.

“Well, he does take after me, and I do love you very much.”  He sat up further, pressing a kiss to Alex’s lips, drawing a huff from David, who’d been squished between them.  Henry cuddled into Alex’s side, who pulled him close, kissing his temple.  “I’m scared people will hate me now,” Henry admitted, one hand stroking David’s fur, the other linking with Alex’s.  “They call me ‘The Prince of England’s Hearts’.  Now that they know….I don’t know.”

“Well….you’re the king of my heart, that’s gotta count for something, right?”  It took Henry a moment, then he was laughing.  “Did you just call me a Taylor Swift song?”  “Maybe,” Alex replied, laughing now too.  “It’s not my fault her songs seem to fit our life so well!”  Henry smiled, pressing a kiss to Alex’s cheek.  “We’ll be alright, won’t we?” he asked, and Alex nodded, squeezing his hand tightly.  “Yeah, baby.  We will.”

#firstprince #alex claremont diaz x henry fox #rwrb fanfiction #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fluff

[drawbauchery]

mayro and loogi movie 2023 let’s-a arrive

MOTHERFUCKIN UUHHHHH

MARIO BROS MOVIE THOUGHTS

it’s long, i talk about luigi a lot. and there are spoilers 

THE NOT GREAT STUFF

not enough luigi

where was luigi in the whole like second act where WAS he

idk missed opportunity for some development while he was captured. he could’ve interacted more with the other prisoners. or kamek & bowser. i feel like kamek taunting him about how bowser’s gonna kill the hell out of mario or something would’ve raised the emotional stakes a bit, like instead of sitting there waiting to be rescued luigi could be wanting to rescue mario himself 

he kinda just didn’t have any lines after getting captured, too....gimme something, movie.......he talked back to spike so easily, a little bit of defiance at some point would’ve been neat ;-; 

i saw one brilliant take that was like, bowser should’ve kept luigi around and “consulted” him about who mario is, and they’d both get just the teensiest more development that way, with both airing out their own insecurities. bowser thinking (knowing) he’s not good enough for peach and luigi wanting to be more like the brother he’s always counting on

luigi making clear he wants to be brave for once->more impact when he shields mario at the end

i was hoping for a prison break i’m gonna be real

and don’t get me wrong i LOVE kidnapping stories but i HATE it when the kidnapped isn’t allowed to do anything. wish they’d given luigi more flexibility to at least TRY something instead of essentially throwing him aside, y’know?

idk man just more luigi. 

also, pacing not good. pacing iffy. maybe bad

coming off the heels of the perfect pacing and flawless balancing of an ensemble that was puss in boots, i think moving some stuff around could’ve made room for my boy. they coulda done it.

specifically, the pacing was WAY too fast. i love when movies let emotions really sink in. luigi’s little flashback scene was really nice, more stuff like that pls

did peach ever even tell mario her name i forgot

NOT the bowser musical number i DREAMT of. hilarious af but i wanted A SONG. A BANGER. A 90′s DISNEY VILLAIN BOP

not a fan of the played out peach/bowser forced marriage stuff but it’s mario what are you gonna do

no luigi power-ups what’s up with that

the freaking illumination dog design threw me off so badly i was almost brought out of the mario immersion. i was thinking nothing could be bad enough to make me not excited to be sitting in that theater and then the fucking dog showed up. straight out of secret life of pets. it also should’ve been a scarier big dog. (his nod of approval at the end was good though 100/10)

and look mario’s a cutie pie, a sweetheart, wanna squish his lil cheeks, i loved him being ABSOLUTELY terrified of bowser when they met because who the fuck wouldn’t be, but in the end luigi is still so much more interesting to me 8′D

NO BOWSER JR. CAMEO?????

why the FUCK didn’t bowser and luigi kiss

THE GREAT STUFF

luigi

luigi’s voice

luigi’s pathetic little meeps and yelps and being so squishable

luigi & mario

mario & luigi

THEY WERE SO GODDAMN SWEET AND CUTE AND GOOD

mario tearing through the alleys like a beast and just. instinctively opening gates and leaving pathways for luigi. not in a “hurry up and pull your weight” kind of way, but like. a doting, considerate way that showed he just wanted to make things easier for his brother. i was crying screaming they were just so soft

i did NOT expect to see their family. that’s the kind of grounding, humanizing scene i was hoping for

luigi trying to eat. let him eat

mario playing kid icarus. he’s besties with pit in subspace. pit/mario friendship real

the luma

luigi doing a mic drop with his phone and just going O-O when it breaks

all the poses. all the music cues. all the mario kart. i’m a relatively new fan of mario ok i didn’t grow up with any of the games besides luigi’s mansion--

KING BOO CAMEO BTW AAAAYYYY

--but even i was squealing at all the references. like, all the moves from the games are there. down to the way mario and luigi run. and all the power-ups, and the enemies, it’s ALL THERE

but especially that mario kart scene, that’s one game i play religiously so the part where they’re choosing what their karts look like TICKLED me gdfksld

DIDDY KONG DIDDY KONG DIDDY KONG

yo were mario and donkey kong kinda.....were they like.....*flips hand* y’know.....?

action scenes were all stellar. had no right to go that hard. 

blue shell being a relentless, vicious force of evil

peach power-ups

peach’s wedding dress

peach in general 

toad and his kart of choice

“lu”

“you can’t be scared all the time, luigi” “you’d be surprised”

“my dad thinks i’m a joke too” “well your dad is RIGHT”

a lot of people don’t want mario and peach to ever end up together, and as a rabid hater of zelda/link i COMPLETELY understand and could not be more sympathetic. but i do ship mario and peach so i personally really liked their little flirty moments 

luigi bringin mario some spaghetti 

nice little snippets of characters like bowser and dk having underlying problems. leaves lot open for sequels n spinoffs.........i’m sure that totally wasn’t their intention...........

me: “if mario doesn’t grab bowser by the tail, twirl him around and throw him, then i don’t wanna know about it”

movie: *has mario and luigi do this TOGETHER*

me: “a    h”

bringing the fight to brooklyn had me so excited and i don’t even know why

THE 80′S SONGS HELLO???

bowser’s castle looking like a rave like in the og games

nervous bowser

the 4 hour long sex scene between luigi and bowser was so tastefully done, i was impressed and moved 

memory bad but i WILL probably add MORE

#text #super mario bros movie #smb #mario #mario spoilers

[5eraphim]

swinging out the gate with pure filth but i recently stumbled upon a scout voice line that made me cream my pants (tumblr doesn't allow links as anon so i'm putting extra parentheses to make sure it doesn't appear as one (https://wiki.teamfortress.com/w/images/4/48/Scout_domination20.wav))

anyways it got me heavy thinking about dom scout because i really truly think this boy is a sadistic motherfucker. huge ego and need to be the best, especially growing up the youngest sibling? having someone stupidly fucked out for him blows his mind.

and i KNOW for a FACT he has a daddy kink, too, and wants a real title to hear the power he has in the moment (plus there's another scout voice line that says "come to daddy" so it's essentially confirmed because i said so).

he's still a little bit of a teenage horndog about it, rolling his eyes back and getting a little nervous when you actually do submit, because he was prepared for a fight.

i would almost say he prefers it, wanting the struggle and the power that comes with quelling the flame in you but never fully, trying to push buttons to get you to give him a shove or a nasty remark so he has an excuse to pounce on you like a predator.

"yeah? you like that? gettin' fucked on daddy's dick?" almost really talking to himself when he drills into you as fast as he physically can, positioned in missionary because he wants to see that pretty face (and tits).

he wants to see overstimulation paint your features, you know that. he also wants to see that feisty side of you just so he can tame it. you push his abdomen the best you can, hands really just shoving his shirt that he didn't bother to take off. it's not working, and all he can do is laugh at your pathetic attempt.

you yank the dog tags that dangle in front of your face, sort of wet because of the sweat he's pouring, not due of the physicality but rather that he's so worked up and thrilled that he's heating up. the chain wrings around the back of his neck a little, not necessarily doing the damage you hoped for. in fact, you can see a switch flip and his eyes darken. uh oh.

his hands slam around your neck, having previously been attached to your waist, and squeeze so hard your vision goes fuzzy at the edges and all the blood rushes from your head. "you wanna choke me? how's it feel ta be fuckin' choked, huh? stupid bitch." he's degrading, harsh because he knows he can be. your eyes well u with tears, threatening to spill, and he grins like a wolf. he loves it.

"oh, what, you gonna cry? you gonna cry now?" he spits at you. that's all it takes before the waterworks start, cooling your warm cheeks and letting him know he's won this round.

there's nothing that stops you from cumming on his cock, completely overwhelmed by feeling and so far gone that it doesn't even matter. scout's overjoyed that he's got a pretty girl so fucking stupid for him that she can't even control her body anymore. he gets so high off the feeling that he can't help but bark out every filthy thought and word he has, a reminder that he is conscious enough to talk and you're so braindead you can't form a word.

"aww" he wipes your tears with the pad of his thumb, "don' cry kid, i'm not even bein' that cruel!" he taps his thumb against your lips, scowling when you turn your head to avoid his digit. he grabs your chin to force your eyes on his. "open up and suck my fuckin' thumb or ill replace it with my cock and fuck your face."

im making my mark as 👽 emoji because i will 100% be back to write more

HELL O?? HELLO 👽!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!!! MAKING OUT WITH THE SIDE OF YOUR NECK RIGHT NOW AS WE SPEAK

thank you so much for sending me this, a bit blown awayy right now, i must say. top-tier scout characterization, on GOD. He is MEAN. he is literally a one man bully squad- of course he's gonna overdo it act like a total maniac getting nasty with his obsession.

i love this because i love writing Scout as on the more dominant side, but in a almost playfully sadistic kind of way.

#tales from the ask box #👽 anon #im so locked in on you right now #ok but it's crazy bc i have this scout piece i've been working on and i like it a lot #and it was sooo fun to touch on something a bit different #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere self ship #yandere tf2 #yandere team fortress 2 x reader

[damn-stark]

Chapter 5 One thought before the slaughter

Chapter 5 of Stargirl

A/N- Someone will get rightfull traumatized by all of it

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, violence and blood, fluff! SLOWBURN, long chapter.

Pairing- Steve Harrington x fem!reader, male!oc x fem!reader

Episode- 2x09

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Maybe it was a mistake coming back to Hawkins lab. You keep trying to tell yourself that your dad needs your help dealing with the Demo-dogs, he doesn’t truly understand what he’s getting into like you do. And that assures you, it gives you confidence, but the bad thoughts keep coming back to you like an annoying song that you can’t get out of your head.

Then again it’s only your fear threatening to cripple you. You ignore it and get out of the car you borrowed, you’ll have to apologize for it later too. You reload the shotgun of the one bullet you used and then cock it, you look at the parking lot and spot your fathers car and your uncle's car parked right across from each other, which is kind of funny considering their current stance.

You lastly look at the building and can’t help but let a breath of air catch in your throat as the lights within flash slowly. The monsters aren’t heard from outside anymore, but they still lurk there, probably guarding the gate, feasting on the bodies of the people they killed. Fuck.

Fuck. Okay. Exhale.

Before something can happen you head inside slowly and cautiously, keeping an eye and ear out for those beasts.

And luckily you are cautious because as you approach the front doors you hear shuffling and squelching, like when feet hit against wet blood. Fuck. You raise the shotgun and begin to stalk forward, since it’s dark inside you can’t really see, all you do catch is a figure over a body. Your uncle and Eleven must be further inside or waiting by the gate so it’s neither of them, and all the others are dead. It can be…

You lower your gun and open the door, earning the figures attention. And just as you predicted just now it’s your father. “Dad,” you greet with relief.

Said man snaps his head over his shoulder and squints as if in disbelief, before he gets up and turns to stride over to you angrily. He’s angry.

“What are you doing here?” He asks and grabs your shoulders to begin pushing you back. “Get out. I told you to go home.”

You lift your hands and push his own off your shoulders, and brush off his concern. “Yeah, I heard, but you don’t know what you’re facing here. I came to help you.”

Your dad scoffs and harshly grabs your arm to begin pulling you with him out the door. “And I said go home, wait for me there y/n. Why did you not listen to me?”

You snatch your arm away and walk further in the lobby. “Dad, I came to help! You didn’t see them, they have no eyes, the inside of their mouth is filled with sharp teeth, they’re fast and strong! I just want to help you.”

Your dad licks his lips out of frustration and glances away to collect his thoughts. You step towards him and wait.

“Fuck,” he grimaces, “fine. Fine, but you stay by my side at all times, understand?”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile as you nod in agreement. “I understand.”

Your dad rolls his eyes and walks past you, letting you turn and quickly tow behind him. Albeit you come to a quick stop as you catch the body of a middle aged man your dad was huddled over.

“You knew him?” You ask him.

Your dad continues towards the doors that lead past the lobby and nods. “Yeah. It was my friend Bob. He and I were supposed to grab lunch to catch up in person…now…”

“Those things did that,” you interject softly and follow after him. “That’s what they do. Tear you apart. That’s why the girl needs to close that gate, or else the entire town gets infested, and we all die.”

As you make it past the big doors he glances at you as you fall beside him. “She's the reason they’re here. Why Bob died. I end that today.”

You don’t find anything wrong with what he wants to do, you can’t after today.

“What happened to your hand?” He points to the bandage.

You lift your hand and turn it, noticing that fresh blood is staining the bandage.

Damn, it must’ve happened when you hit Billy fucking Hargrove.

“I cut myself,” you let him know quietly. “I’ll be okay. It won’t kill me.”

He sighs and looks ahead. “So that’s what you've been doing all day I assume? Hunting these things?”

You sigh and nod slowly. “Yeah, that about covers it. I mean it’s been crazy, but we can discuss that during breakfast.”

He hums and deadpans. “Now I’m tempted to send you to your moms.”

You gasp and snap your gaze to him. “What?” You protest. “No. What?”

He stops walking, so you do too and face him with a glare.

“You disobeyed me,” he argues. “This is my mission, you aren’t supposed to be here. You can get hurt, y/n. Or worse you can die. The only reason why I bring you along with me across the world is because you stay out of my missions, you wait in the sidelines. This,” he points around the haunting lab. “Is not okay, don’t you see that.”

You shake your head in disbelief and quickly rebuttal. “I’m helping you. I led you here! To the girl you’re after!”

“You’re not listening to me!” He yells at you, causing you to jump and step back.

He’s never yelled at you before, he’s never been this angry at you in your whole life. Whatever trouble you go into, your grandmother was the one who scolded you, he comforted you. He’s yelling at you this time.

“I don’t need your help,” he says back. “You’re supposed to be a teenager. Go to school, sneak a drink with your friends, go to the mall with your girlfriends, worry about school, not about me or my job. You can get hurt.”

You drop your gaze and feel the need to cry. “I’m sorry,” you mumble to the ground. “I just had the advantage so I took it. I’m sorry.”

Your dad turns around and lets out a frustrated breath, you slowly lift your gaze, but before you can get a glance at him suddenly something crashes through the doors you walked through, and charges at you. You quickly duck to avoid being tackled, but in doing so the demo-dog tackles your dad to the ground.

“Dad!” You cry and quickly point the shotgun at the back of the demo-dogs head as your dad struggles to keep it from biting him.

So as to avoid shooting your dad, you build your courage and kick the demo-dog off him. The demo-dog turns his head back and roars at you, so you hit the trigger and shoot it through the mouth, managing to kill it with one shot.

“Fuck,” you pant and look down at your dad with relief that it’s dead.

Your dad looks at you with shock and horror.n“What the fuck are those dogs?” He asks.

You shake your head and do Dustin justice. “Demo-dogs,” you correct him and bend down to take his hand and help him up. “They’re the monsters I warned you about.”

“Huh,” he gasps and looks back at it.

Nevertheless, before he can catch his breath three more demo-dogs come running past the doors, your dad reacts by taking your hand and pulling you with him down the hall. The demo-dogs of course don’t falter and chase after you, they won’t stop, so when you turn a hall, you pull your hand away from your dads grip and spin around to wait.

“Y/N!” Your dad yells as he comes to a stop too.

You’re being stupid, but they won’t stop. You raise your gun and the demo-dogs make a sharp turn, they spot the both of you and don’t hesitate to lunge at you and your dad.

The one after you tries to swing his claws, but you backup and shoot. The shot manages to kill it and throw it back, but now, the third one manages to grab you by the leg and yanks you down to the ground. You try to shoot it right away, but it digs his claws in your leg and makes you yell out and drop your gun.

Behind you your dad kills the one after him, so he then turns and shoots the demo-dog trying to crawl on you, but the bullet from his pistol doesn’t kill it, he needs more bullets.

“The shotgun!” You advise him.

Your dad listens and swiftly slides down to snatch the shotgun off the ground.

Alas just as he’s going to shoot it, the demo-dog screeches out at the ceiling before it pulls its claws off you. Your dad quickly grabs you by your arms and pulls you to him to cradle you, whilst the demo-dog runs down the hall and barges through a left door.

“What the hell just happened?” Your dad asks between pants.

You begin to smile and share what you predict happened. “My friends, they're distracting them. They did it.”

Hopefully they’re okay. Hopefully Steve is. You told them—begged them to take him with them, they agreed after you gave them all five bucks.

“They’re going to close the gate now, I assume,” you whisper and wince. “We can wait here or go further down.”

Your dad sits you back down and rips his sleeve off his shirt.

“I have bandages,” you tell him as he grabs your bleeding leg. “In my backpack.”

He blinks and meets your gaze. “You tell me now?”

You shrug. “You ripped your sleeve before asking.” You tease him. “So just use it now.”

Your dad scoffs and proceeds to wrap the bandage around your ankle.

“I took your gun by the way,” you add lightheartedly even if you groan as he helps you.

“Sorry. And yeah,” he huffs. “I saw. I was too upset at you to point it out.”

You frown and avert your gaze. “I am sorry,” you mutter softly.

Your dad meets your gaze as he finishes wrapping your wound and gently tilts your head up by your chin. “It’s okay. I mean you’re grounded, but there’s nothing to forgive, okay?”

Grounded? Beats being hated…so you smile at him and nod in comprehension.

“Now come on,” he says and then helps you to your feet. “Let’s go further inside.”

You swipe the shotgun off the ground and limp after him towards the door the demo-dog escaped through. Like the rest of the lab the lights are off in the stairwell you enter, however unlike in the halls there's a flashlight lit below and blood that seems to be leading you to the light.

You shouldn’t follow the blood that leads further into hell, but you do, and don’t stop even if you hear labored breaths below.

“Gun up,” your dad whispers back.

You stay quiet as you do as he says, and take a step to the side just in case.

Nevertheless, when you reach the bottom you come across an older doctor bleeding from his leg from what looks to be a demo-dog bite. He sees your dad and you and looks rightfully surprised.

“Hm,” your dad hums and stretches his arm back to lower your gun barrel. “Doctor Owens,” your father names.

You study the old man and see his confused reaction.

“You don’t know me but I know you,” your dad tells the man as he slowly crouches down. “Yeah, I know you.” He exhales and begins to tap the barrel of his pistol against the man’s bleeding wound. “Here’s what you’re going to do, you are going to retire from this shit you understand? Or else I,” your dad points his gun at himself. “Will find you again and actually get to put a bullet through that ancient skull.”

You swallow thickly and hide behind your father out of disbelief of what was getting said.

“Got it?” Your dad asks rhetorically before he pushes the gun into the wound, making the man groan in pain. “Now. Tell me where Jim Hopper went.” He pushes the head of the gun in the wound, making you wince and look away, and causing the man to groan and grab at his leg.

You know your dad is a dangerous man, he’s one of the CIA’s best agents, but you’ve never actually seen him in action, you’ve never seen him be this…cruel ever. It’s sort of scary.

“Through…there,” the man says hoarsely as he points to the double doors beside you.

Your dad hums in comprehension and pulls the gun back to get up and stride out, making you pass a brief glance at the man before you follow after your dad. When you’re past the doors, out of fear you’ll run into more demo-dogs you cock your gun and slowly stalk forward. Even as it stays quiet you continue to be cautious especially since it’s so badly lit inside. When you get to a control room that has a broken glass wall at the other end, you see a bright menacing red light fill the room from the crack on the cement wall at the other end of the glass.

It’s terrifying but frighteningly captivating as it begins to slowly close like a wound getting stitched up. Even so, nothing good comes from what lays behind the closing red gate, you feel it from the goosebumps that grow on your skin.

“Is that it?” Your dad whispers in disbelief.

You hang the shotgun over your shoulder and nod. “Yeah. I think it is. She’s closing it.”

He hums and steps back against some monitors. “Then we wait here,” he tells you.

You stay quiet and grab onto the edge of the metal desks to jump on and sit while you wait. Gunshots echo from below but neither of you can do anything since it sounds too low to actually help from above, so you just pull your switchblade out and fiddle with it as you wait.

“How about some pancakes tomorrow?” Your dad asks. “Blueberry pancakes with…”

“A fresh pot of coffee?” You pitch in.

He glances at you and nods. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

You offer him a faint happy smile and continue to stay quiet.

“No,” he interrupts and grabs your wrist to move your other hand a bit down the handle of the switchblade. “There, now do the trick. Otherwise you’ll get cut.”

You snort and nod along. “How wise of you father,” you tease him.

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Look, like I always say, you try to keep your kid from doing something and they’ll find a way to do it another way. Don’t want you to be hiding shit and sneaking off.”

You smirk. “So I’m ungrounded?” You press lightheartedly.

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. You sneak off while you are and I will take your car.”

You flick the switchblade close and get ready to respond back, but then the lights above begin to grow bright and brighter, making you shield your eyes as they overtake the red light that once came from the gate.

The effect only lasts a few seconds and once the lights turn back off the red light is completely gone, meaning that Eleven did it, the gate is closed. No more demo-dogs, no more threats from the Upside Down.

“It’s done,” you muse and put your switchblade away to then slide off the counter, and step towards the broken glass wall.

Your dad sighs and reloads his pistol as he remains leaned against the desk. “Stay back y/n,” he orders in a stern voice.

You don’t hesitate, not when he’s being strict and demanding like now. You also don’t stay a few inches away behind him, you walk back a few feet and remain hidden under the darkness that swallows the room whole. As the pulley that’s inside the gape is getting pulled up you avert your gaze. The moment the pulley hits the top you stiffen and feel chills crawl down your spine as your stomach twists because of that bad feeling that has yet to go away.

“Jesus,” you hear your uncle’s gasp break the silence. “Rowan, what the hell are you doing here?”

You slowly lift your eyes and watch your dad slowly push himself off the counter and slowly walk out of the dark with a menacing look you can see even if his back is turned to you.

“Look,” your dad says. “I know we’ve had our differences, Jim. I know we aren’t as united as we would like…but I still respect you big brother. I looked up to you at one point in my life, I think a part of me always will…” he pauses and you hear his shoes crack glass shards as he steps forward. “So I will ask you this once nicely.”

Your uncle narrows his gaze and shields Eleven with his arm, as if he knows what his brother is intending without having to be told.

“Give me the girl,” your dad demands. “She’s not supposed to be here, she’s a threat. A danger.”

“She’s a child,” your uncle snaps at your dad and backs up as his hand tightens around his shotgun.

You finally drift your gaze to Eleven and notice how different her appearance looks between now and only about an hour ago; blood stains trail down both her nostrils, dark circles paint the bottom of her eyes, and thin veins that almost look like cracks on her skin decorate her exhausted face. And now beside that there’s also fear from what’s happening.

“She’s a weapon, Jim,” your dad counters. “An object. A lab rat. A threat to everything and everyone. All this, those dogs and that gate prove that!” He exclaims out of frustration. “She’s no kid. They made sure of that.”

Your uncle shakes his head. “You don’t know that. You don’t know her! Or her life! You’re nothing but a pet yourself working for the government.”

This escalated quickly.

“Looking at you now proves that,” your uncle adds with a burning glower. “Father would be proud of you,” he feigns a chuckle. “His little boy is all grown up, killing children for his country.”

Your dad shakes his head. “No, not children. I save them from that,” your dad points at Eleven. “Would you really want her around if Sara—”

“Shut the hell up,” your uncle cuts him off full with venom. “Don’t you dare bring her into this. You have no right.”

Your dad steps forward and has no shame. “Would you really want that around your daughter? Risking her life everyday.”

“I said shut the hell up!” Your uncle bellows and points his shotgun at your dad, making you reach back for yours to be ready to pull it off your shoulder. “You’re not taking Eleven anywhere. I’ll protect her, I will keep her from harming anyone! She’s not a threat, she’s just a result of what they did! If this was y/n—”

“No,” your dad now takes his turn to cut your uncle off. “Just hand me the girl Jim. I will keep your name out of the reports, you won’t be involved in helping and aiding this threat. Hey, maybe we can rekindle our relationship once it’s all over. My girl wants a life here.”

Your uncle raises his gun higher but this time he seems to show some kind of remorse. Pity maybe for your dad.

“Rowan, please, just leave her with me. Help me keep her safe, no one has to know,” your uncle begins to plead in a softer voice. “She deserves this. You take her, she becomes just another lab rat, this time for the government. Please, little brother.”

Your dad sighs and keeps his head facing straight ahead as he discreetly moves his hand towards his holstered pistol.

However, your uncle catches his attempts and steps forward with his gun aimed at your dad. “Rowan,” your uncle whispers shakily. “Please. I don’t want to shoot you. Please.”

Your dad doesn’t respond, he just hastily pulls his gun out and shoots. Your uncle had managed to catch your dads reaction and shoots too.

Albeit your uncles bullet misses your dad because he had moved. Instead the shotgun bullet hits a counter, making you jump and cover your ears as it rings. And your dads bullet, well, with the strength Eleven can muster, she throws her head up and uses her ability to throw your dads bullet back to hit him.

However, his bullet also misses him by a few inches and whizzes past him, and instead hits you.

You didn’t see it, you felt it immediately the moment it came in contact with your body, the moment the bullet pierces your chest. The pain doesn’t register at first, nor does the fact that you had been shot, it doesn’t feel real.

You just slowly look down and see blood begin to stain your dirty shirt, you then proceed to slowly lift your hand to try and grasp the situation by pressing your palm against the bullet hole that’s a few inches away from where your heart is.

Once you pull your hand back and see the blood stain your palm the pain you hadn’t felt comes crashing through you, dull at first and then sharp and writhing. Tears quickly fill your eyes and you can only think of one thing besides the pain.

“Daddy?” You mewl out. The pain weakens you to the point it even hurts standing even if the wound is in your chest, so you quickly fall, missing your fathers facial reaction.

You just hear him call out with fear. “Y/N?”

The sound of his footsteps sound distant, like if he’s miles away even if shows up right beside you. His voice sounds muffled, like if that is far away too, but he’s right there on his knees beside you. It’s not until you feel a ripping pain on your chest like if hundreds of blades are stabbing your wound, that everything becomes clear again.

“Oh god no, oh god no, no, I’m sorry,” you hear your dad panic.

“Gah,” you cry out in pain and try to push his hands off your wound.

Your dad shakes his head. “No, baby no. I know it hurts, I know, but I need—god it’s a lot of blood.”

“Daddy,” you cry through the pain. “I-I don’t want to die, dad—”

“No,” he cuts you off sharply and meets your gaze with his watery eyes. “No, don’t say that. You won’t, I just need…” he trails off and looks around him quickly as he keeps his hands pressed against your bleeding wound. “I need help,” he whispers in such a broken voice that scares you even more because it’s something you haven’t heard before.

“Here, here,” you recognize your uncle's voice at your side. When you look over he seems shocked and almost as if he feels the pain himself. “We’ll run upstairs and call the ambulance. Don’t move her from here, she’ll bleed out more.”

Your dad looks at him but when he looks at the blood that keeps pouring out, streams of tears begin pouring out of his eyes, and he mentally doesn’t seem to catch up to what’s being said. “No, no—”

“Rowan!” Your uncle snaps him from his stupor.

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” your dad yells back. “Babygirl,” he says down at you. “I’m trying, just wait. Wait, I’m going to get help.”

“Rowan,” your uncle exclaims and grabs your dads shoulder. “Just keep applying pressure. I’ll be back, okay? I’ll be back.”

Your dad holds his brother's gaze and nods quickly, letting your uncle quickly rush past you whilst Eleven slowly falls beside you with tears in her own eyes and guilt written all over her face.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” she whispers to you between tears.

“Eleven!” Her name gets called out.

You just look at the girl with no words to say, how could you? You led your father here to…get rid of her. She doesn’t owe you an apology. This approaching visit with death lets you see that.

“It won’t take long, okay?” Your dad drifts your attention back to him while Eleven hurries off to follow after your uncle. “The ambulance will come and-and they’ll help. Okay, baby girl?”

Again panic sets, the fear of death is all you can feel as the pain only increases, making you feel as if your chest is on fire.

“You’ll tell ‘em to give you a stable job, yeah?” You tell him and grab his wrist. “You’ll find a nice girlfriend and get that farm you wanted, yeah?”

Your dad shakes his head and leans down to press his forehead against yours. “Don’t say that. I’m not doing anything without you. It’s you and me kid, remember? Please baby.”

You sniffle. “It hurts,” you complain. “It hurts.”

He nods softly. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“This week,” you say more hoarsely, slower now as it begins to feel difficult to think and to breathe, or keep your eyes open. “Even with all its faults….has been very fun,” you share with him.

He musters a tiny smile. “Has it?” He asks breathlessly.

You swallow thickly and smile softer as the pain seems to go away. “I want to stay,” you whisper while you let your eyelids begin to droop.

“No, baby,” you hear your dads voice muffled again. “Y/N, don’t do this to me. You have to keep your eyes open. Tell me…tell me what you want for Christmas? Yeah? You love getting gifts, tell me. Please.”

You let out a breathless giggle but that’s all, nothing comes out of your lips, your eyes don’t move or blink. Your smile doesn’t fall and a breath doesn’t raise your chest anymore. That was the first thing he noticed, but your dad doesn’t want to accept what he sees, he can’t, you’re all he has, he can’t lose you, so he doesn’t plead anymore, he pulls his forehead away from yours and sits up straight. He slides his hands over your heart and begins to try and restart it.

“Come on,” he mutters as he presses harshly. “Come on. Come on,” he sniffles. “Baby I know you can do it. Come on, come on.”

“Rowan?!”

“Jim! She’s…” he doesn’t fail to let himself be vulnerable to his brother, the man he once had trusted with his entire heart, the man he looked up to since he could remember. “My girl, she's not breathing. Please, I need help. I…can’t lose her.”

Jim comes running over and takes over for Rowan and does chest compressions on you.

“Jim—”

“Let’s just talk it over dinner, yeah?” Jim cuts Rowan off. “Civilized. Once your girl gets better. A dinner for the four of us, that good? You cook though, you were always better.”

Rowan nervously brushes his hair back as he chuckles breathlessly, and nods softly. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jim nods and looks back down at you and continues to press harder against your chest. “Come on. Come on!” He slams his fists against your chest, and even if it wouldn’t have made a difference it works, your eyes widen and you draw in a deep breath.

“Dad,” you cry out.

Said man leans down and cups your cheeks. “I’m right here. I’m here, just keep—”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

It’s dark, incredibly so, you can’t even see your own hands in front of your face. All you know is that you’re in the lab, it smells moist and like dirt. All you can hear is your own breathing until there’s…

Click. Click, coming from behind you. You slowly look back, and now lights overheard begin to flicker, adding animosity to the room. Click. Click.

You don’t move, you can’t, every limb in your body is frozen in place. The light flickers off so you squint your eyes to try and see through the darkness. However, when the lights turn back on a demo-dog stands there, its faceless head pointing at you. You try to scream, move, but you can’t open your mouth, you can’t even flinch, all that you can do is watch as the demo-dog begins to charge at you.

When it gets close enough it lunges at you. You close your eyes to avoid seeing its razor sharp teeth, and as you do, just before the demo-dog can slam into you and eat you, you tear your eyes open and escape the nightmare.

Where are you now though? There’s bright white lights above you, and the room smells like rubbing alcohol and hospital?

That’s right…you got shot at Hawkins Lab—your dad.

“Dad,” you call out hoarsely. You try to lift your head, but as you move your body hurts, so you stay put and can’t help but begin to worry.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, hey.” Steve? “I wouldn’t do that. Just stay put.”

“I'll go get Mr Rowan.” Zion?

Footsteps approach your side, so you quickly snap your eyes to the left side and catch Steve, and plastic handle bars that run along a hospital bed. You see a heart monitor, you hear it’s annoying reading of your heartbeat, you’re in the hospital.

“Steve,” you whisper with worry.

Said guy offers you a smile. “You really scared us for a minute there, huh?” He says.

His face still had the bruises from his fight with Billy, so it hasn’t been long since it happened.

“It’s okay.” Nancy?

You snap your eyes to the right and see her by your bedside with a sweet smile on her face. She’s actually here, she’s not unintentionally avoiding you, or running off with Jonathan. Does this mean you’ll actually be friends? You hope so.

“Nancy,” you greet happily.

Said girl is surprised by your glee, but it also makes her smile softly. “The gate is closed,” she then says.

As you still remain surprised that she’s here before you, you flash her a soft smile first before you nod softly. “Yeah,” you mumble. “I remember. I remember all of it…” you pause as the last moments you remember play hazily in your mind. “Up to my dad asking me something. What I want for christmas. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“It’s okay,” Nancy tries to assure you. “No one would expect you to.”

You hum and notice a bouquet of delicate daisies and fresh roses in a vase on the nightstand, the other vase holds a variety of flowers, all just as beautiful. In front of it sits a teddy bear holding a card that says “get better soon”, how sweet. Who are they all from though?

You’ll ask later.

You then glance at Steve again and then at Nancy with confusion. “What are you guys doing here?”

Steve scoffs. “Uh, visiting, duh?”

You smile bashfully. It’s nice having friends. Albeit if they knew the reason as to what led to you getting shot perhaps they wouldn't like you as much. It’s doubtful they know. You won’t tell them now either, perhaps later on. Maybe…

As for now you offer Steve a tiny smile. “You look like shit,” you point out.

Steve scoffs and retorts. “Well at least I’m not the one on a hospital bed.”

You chuckle softly but it hurts so you cut it off quickly. Instead you bring up your most important question. “How long have I been out?”

Steve sighs and glances at Nancy across from him, but then quickly looks away and looks at you. “Maybe…”

“Three days,” Nancy finishes for him.

It hasn’t felt like three days, it’s felt like a few seconds at least.

“You need something?” Steve asks now.

Nothing comes to mind, you can’t even think of food, it doesn’t sound appetizing. Water though, it feels like you’ve been dehydrated for hours. “Water.”

Steve nods quickly and turns to grab something off the other nightstand which holds more flowers and a balloon.

“I just want to tell you something, okay?” Steve adds. “Just so you’re not surprised—” yet the sound of the door opening cuts him off. Steve hands you the water, but you don’t even reach for it because the sight of your dad catches you off guard.

“Daddy,” you cry out with relief.

He smiles, but you don’t get to read further into his relief because you then spot none other than your mother.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers beside you. “She’s here.”

You pass him a shocked look before he moves back to let her take his spot beside you. And the first thing you do is study her, it’s been quite some time since you’ve seen her in person, and she’s unchanged. She’s just as beautiful, she smells just as nice and expensive, her clothes are nice and unwrinkled, she doesn’t look like she’s been in the hospital for three days waiting anxiously for your wake. She tries to say something, but you instead look over at your dad who took Nancy's spot by your right side.

“Hey baby,” he whispers in a quivering voice.

Happy and relieved tears fall out of your eyes. You want to reach out to embrace him, but that hurts too, so you just let him cup your cheek and lean in.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he says softly and wipes the tears off your face. “I was so fucking scared. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you assure him as you take his hand. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

Your dad scoffs. “But it was,” he rebuttals. “I should have been more strict, or not even involve you in all this. It was my fault.”

You remember all the people that are in the room and just let out a small breath and come up with a conclusion to not drag this out. “Then we’ll have to agree to disagree. Perhaps I should’ve listened to you, but it doesn’t mean I…regret helping.”

Only because of the bonds you made along the way, everything else…well…

“Hm,” your dad hums and doesn’t argue.

You offer him an assuring smile before you answer his question. “I know what I want for Christmas….a drum set.”

A grin breaks on your dads face as he lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He caresses your cheek and then glances around before interjecting. “You found some good friends. They’ve been here everyday waiting for you to wake up.”

You grin and glance at Steve. That’s the first person you look over to instead of Zion sitting next to him. Steve also looks at you and offers you a small smile. You hold his gaze for a few seconds before you look at Zion. He smiles back at you, but your dad then interjects so your attention is quickly pulled away.

“Uh, some kids came too. They left this,” he says and points to the “get better soon” card. “And your uncle left you this.” He points to the teddy bear. “And your mom…is here….” He pauses and sighs. “I called her.”

Your smile and happiness fades, but you manage to fake it and look over at her with a tiny smile. “Mom,” you greet.

Said woman reaches for your hand, and you let her hold it while your dad steps back away from you. “I knew you’d wake up,” she says and smiles at you. “I couldn’t stop worrying about you since I got the call.”

Your smile fades and you avert your gaze. “Busy?” You ask quietly.

“No,” she says, “things are calm right now.”

And she didn’t call.

“Lucky me,” you retort and meet her gaze.

Your mom senses your sarcasm and sighs before she glances at your dad across from her. “May I talk to her alone?”

What?

You snap your eyes to your dad and widen them to share your disapproval, but your friends don’t hesitate to leave first, and she doesn’t let your hand go or let his gaze go, so he can’t argue.

“Yeah,” he mutters and slowly begins to walk out. “I’ll be out here.”

You watch him leave the room in disbelief and betrayal. When the door closes your mom lets your hand go and instead sits by your legs and continues to face you with that soft smile that would make a lot of people swoon. You frown at her though.

“I don’t know exactly what went on,” she says right away. “What I got was vague, and knowing your dad, it’s not the full truth.”

You slowly narrow your eyes but keep quiet.

“I know I haven’t been in your life as much as I would have liked, as much as you needed me to, but my girl,” she continues and leans towards you. “I want to make it up. Come live with me in LA. You can continue homeschooling, so when I travel to shooting locations, you can travel with me. You won’t have to pray that each night isn’t your dads last. You won’t have to get shot or live here anymore. Come with me.”

Her words come out so easily, with so much glee that you’d think she hasn’t been a dead-beat, like she doesn’t just call you twice or once a month, or just give you money once in a while as a form of reconciliation.

It's easy for her to say that, thinking it’s your dream, when you want the opposite; you want something stable, you want genuine friends, a house in a small sleepy town that smells like cow shit. Sure the monsters from the interdimensional aren’t ideal, but the gate is closed now, it’s over. You want a life here.

“No,” you flat out say without remorse. “I don’t want that. I’m sick of traveling around with no real home. I like it here. I have friends, a boy I like and want to date.” You shake your head. “I like being with my dad. I know his job is risky, but he’s never disappointed me.”

Your mom drops her gaze at the comment, but you don’t feel bad.

“If you want to make up your wrongs, I’d start with something small,” you suggest. “Not promises you won’t keep.”

Your mom swallows thickly and slowly stands back up. She keeps her eyes averted, she sighs deeply before she blinks and meets your hardened glare. “Fine,” she says softly. “Then I’ll stay here, until you get better.”

You gasp in disbelief and glance out the window, catching your dad peeking through. He can’t meet your gaze to read your expression, so you have to look back at her and try to convince her otherwise. “You don’t have to, I’ll be fine. My dad will take care of me—”

“Your dad has to go back to DC soon for work reasons,” she cuts you off. “You can’t travel because it will take time to recover from a bullet to the chest, and now with your grandma gone, I want to do it.”

“Uh, what about work?” You probe. “Don’t you have some movie to shoot?”

She shakes her head. “No. I recently finished one so I’m taking a small break. I want to be with you, my girl. You won’t push me away.”

Great. You can’t come up with anything to say, so you just offer her a tightlipped smile before you just awkwardly move on. “Can you bring my friends and my dad in? Please?”

She seems surprised by your lack of reaction, but you truly don’t know what to say, so you leave it be and avoid meeting her gaze. When everyone returns inside the room, Zion walks in first so you finally address him after not being able to.

“Hey, you.”

Zion heads to you and props his hands on the sidebars when he reaches your side. “Hey, you,” he redirects. “You’ve had quite the week, huh?”

You snort. “You can say that.”

“I mean getting shot for trespassing? You’ve been the news favorite person for the past three days,” he teases and reveals the cover story you now have to follow for the rest of your life.

“Yeah,” you say slowly while you look over at your dad walking over to sit on a chair under the window. He meets your gaze and shares a pressing look.

“I was curious,” you lie and slowly drift your eyes back to Zion. “I’m a fan of scary stuff, so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

That’s so lame.

“Sorry about our date,” you apologize sweetly now to avoid getting caught.

Zion shakes his head. “Don’t worry. Let’s reschedule, next week?”

“Well,” you laugh. “I'm grounded. Whatever that really means. Unless getting shot dissolves that?” You ask louder.

“Nope,” your dad answers loudly.

You click your tongue and sigh in disappointment. “I'm free the week after that,” you tell Zion with an excited smile.

Zion shoots you a smirk and nods. “Yeah, cool. Me too.”

You chuckle softly. “Cool.”

Steve was just a simple crush anyway. Your friends now too, which is better, you won’t have to be awkward if shit happens, so…yeah. He was just a simple fleeting crush.

——

*A MONTH LATER*

“The door! Someone answer the door!”

You put the book down and run out of your room, making sure to hover your hand over the stair railing so as to not mess up the thick green christmas garland that took you too annoyingly long to wrap. You continue to run down the stairs even if pangs of pain hit your healing wound.

“Hey! You better not be running!” Your dad exclaims from the first floor.

You groan and slow down to a walking pace down the stairs.

“Thank you!” He shouts when he hears your footsteps change against the wood. Once you reach the first floor and turn towards the front your mom already lets Steve and Dustin in. Amazing.

“Ms Rivers,” Dustin muses with a childlike grin. “It’s an honor. My mom loves all your work.”

Your mom touches her chest and smiles sweetly. “Aw, how sweet. Thank you.”

“Here,” Dustin says and pulls a single rose out of the paper bag he’s carrying. “It’s from my mom. She insisted.”

Your mom takes the rose gracefully and steps aside to let both boys inside. “Thank you, Dustin. You tell your mom to stop by before I leave. I’ll be honored to meet her.”

You meet Steve’s gaze and share an annoyed look.

“Oh really? Yeah thanks I’ll let her know.” Dustin smiles at your mom all giddly as he takes his shoes by the entrance.

“Hey, Ms Rivers, I love those little ornament earrings, you really pull them off great,” Steve compliments your mother, making you internally groan in annoyance.

As your mom closes the door she grins widely. “Thank you, Steve, that’s nice. You know I told my girl here to wear the same ones, but she refuses.”

Steve puts his hand on his hip and scoffs. “Always the party pooper. I’ll convince her.”

You roll your eyes and turn to begin leading Dustin to the bathroom to help him get ready like planned. “Come on, Dustin, up here man.”

“Please tell her,” you hear your mom tell Steve.

“I already took the family Christmas pictures!” You remind her as you begin to climb the stairs. “That’s enough!”

You miss what your mom says, but shortly after you reach the top of the stairs Steve runs up to catch up to Dustin and you.

“In here,” you point to the hallway bathroom.

Dustin gasps. “Wow, is this a three bathroom house?” Dustin asks.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and nod slowly. “Yeah, one in my room, one here, and downstairs. Why?”

Dustin sighs. “Just want to know if you’re rich. This proved it.”

You snicker and take his paper bag to take out the same products Steve recommended on your death trip. Dustin is really dedicated.

“Maybe a slick back look would be cool,” you suggest while you put the things down on the counter.

Steve scoffs whilst he walks up behind Dustin. “What the hell? No? This isn’t the 50s, we’re going for a nice shaggy look. Sides gelled and the rest just his curls. That’s his best feature.”

You squint your eyes as you look at Dustin’s curly hair through the mirror. “Like yours?” You probe while you begin to laugh. “A little Steve jr?”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah so what? He’ll be a total babe magnet that way.”

You quirk your brow and shoot him a judgmental look, before you sigh and pull out a cigarette from the pocket on your tight red and black plaid romper.

Ever since the demo-dog event cigarettes have been a tempting companion. You haven’t lit it yet, you carry it in your mouth as if waiting for a moment that the nightmares turn into something more horrific.

“Well what do you say little man, hm? Slick back or Steve hair?” You ask Dustin.

Dustin looks between the both of you as he hums while he thinks. Meanwhile, you catch Steve drifting his eyes over to you to study you for a moment before he rubs his nose and talks to you.

“You…look nice, very christmasy…”

You turn your head and look at him. “Really? Thanks.” You smile and ignore your heart skipping a beat. It’s a good thing he can’t see how warm your cheeks got.

“Impressing Zion or something?” Steve continues to ask.

You begin to smirk and shrug. “Gotta act like I don’t care right? Just impressing myself. It’s a party so,” you smile. “I like to find an excuse to get dolled up. Especially after being, you know, bed ridden for the past month.”

Steve hums and nods slowly. “Yeah I get it. And yeah nice call, you’re learning.”

“Yeah, my teacher is great,” you tease him.

“Eh, can’t take credit. This is all you.” He points to you.

You beam at him, but you can’t find anything to say, he leaves you speechless.

Luckily Dustin cuts in. “Okay, I think maybe I’ll go with Steve’s choice.” He points to the man behind him. “Or maybe, yours y/n cause you are the girl. You’d know….but—”

“What are you guys up to?” Your dad cuts Dustin off as he approaches the bathroom door.

“Oh, Mr Rowan,” Dustin points out. “Hello.”

“Hey, Dustin. Where are you off to? Or are you joining us for the Christmas party?”

Dustin smiles and shakes his head. “No, thank you, but I-I actually have a school dance I’m going to. Your daughter and Steve are just helping me get ready.”

You switch the cigarette to the other side of your mouth and point to Dustin's hair. “We’re just deciding what hair style. Slick back or uh, Steve hair.”

Your dad glances over at Steve, and scoffs in amusement.

“Hello, Mr Rowan,” Steve greets now that he has time.

“What's up, Steve,” your dad greets and then steps forward. “Can I help you Dustin? I may have an idea.”

Dustin’s eyes widen in shock, but he slowly nods, making Steve step l towards you to the side while your dad takes his spot.

“When I was your age,” your dad begins to say as he rolls his sleeves up. “I also went to a dance. With my friends, but I still went.”

Dustin begins to smile as he grows intrigued. “Were you popular?” Dustin probes.

Your dad shakes his head. “No, not at all. I used to get picked on. I was considered a nerd back then.” Your dad shares as he gets his hands wet to manage the sides of Dustin’s hair better. “I would read comic books. You know Captain America, Superman. Flash.” Your dad chuckles. “I liked the things that the popular kids thought were lame so they threw me in that clic.”

Dustin’s eyes widen with surprise. “Really?” He muses. “It doesn't seem like you would be considered a loser.”

You fold your arms over your chest and lean against Steve as you watch your dad brush back the sides of Dustin’s hair.

“Not anymore,” your dad laughs. “No. I grew up. It happens. Same thing will happen to you.”

Dustin scoffs. “I doubt it.”

Your dad pats Dustin’s shoulder. “I know it. But hey, you’re a cool kid now. Don’t beat yourself down.”

Dustin nods in comprehension and watches as your dad uses gel to make the sides stick.

“Look tonight you’re going to go in there with all your confidence,” your dad advises Dustin, making you begin to smile and wonder how life would be if you had a brother. Maybe this is a taste of it? Sure you like being a only child, but this wouldn’t be so bad.

“You are the man,” your dad continues to assure Dustin. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Dustin smirks, and Steve gives Dustin an encouraging pat on his shoulder.

“You’ll ask a girl to dance, and if she rejects you it’s okay,” your dad assures him. “It’s not the end of the world. They just don’t know what they’re missing. Because you know what?”

“What?”

Your dad grabs a hair pick and begins to tease Dustin’s curls. “In ten years or so when you’re out there making money, doing what you like, you’re gonna be the one on their minds. “Oh I wish I could have danced with Dustin.”.”

Said boy giggles.

“Look at me? Those girls who rejected me in middle school and high school all want to go out with me now.” Your dad shows off. “I of course just mess with them now.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust and shake your head. “That’s gross, daddy.” You complain.

“That’s very cool,” Steve nods along. “Props Mr.”

Your dad smirks at Steve and they then share a high five. You shake your head and lean away from Steve. Your dad continues to style Dustin’s hair for a few more minutes, and when he finally finishes he pats Dustin’s shoulder.

“All done. Go kill It over there.”

Dustin grins and then turns around to face your dad walking out of the room. “Thank you, Mr Rowan.”

Your dad nods at him. “No problem.”

“Happy holidays,” Dustin directs him as you all walk out of the bathroom since it’s gotten late.

“You too, happy holidays Dustin,” your dad redirects as he walks to his office. “Enjoy your dance, man. Remember you’re the man.”

Dustin nods. “I’m the man.”

Your dad grins and winks before he disappears inside his office, letting you walk Dustin and Steve out.

“Have fun!” You tell Dustin excitedly as he walks to Steve’s car.

“Tell your mom I said goodbye!” Dustin yells back.

You frown and wave him off before you face Steve who lingers by the entrance. “You’re coming back right?” You press him with concern.

Steve shrugs. “I mean isn’t Zion coming over?”

You nod. “Yeah, but it’s not the same, Steve.” You reach over to grab Steve’s arm to express your worry. “I mean I'm going to need help with him. And…” you trail off and whisper. “You can’t leave me alone with my mom.”

Steve holds your gaze and hums in comprehension. You get louder and continue to tell your misfortunes that await you at your dads early Christmas party. “And my uncle is coming over, and a bunch of my dads friends. Nancy can’t come over, Eddie is busy, I need you here.”

Steve begins to smirk cockily. “Ah, so you just want me here. Good to know. Just say that.”

You roll your eyes with an amused smile on your lips. However, it’s as you do roll your eyes that you catch a figure in the darkness just outside your house.

It’s on all fours, it’s pointed head facing you, staring at you with its eyeless head. It’s drooling and digging its claws in the ground to get ready to charge.

Out of fear it will move when you move, and out of just genuine fear of what you see in the darkness, you clench your jaw and hold your breath. The cigarette you had been taking care of in your mouth falls and drops to the ground, but you stay still out of fear the monster will attack you.

“Y/N?”

You snap your eyes to Steve tilting his head down to meet your gaze, and exhale that breath you had held in. “What?” You ask and quickly offer him a feigned smile.

Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks back at what your eyes had been locked on. “You okay? You just zoned out there?”

You glance over at where you had seen the demo-dog, but there’s just nothing. There’s nothing…

Thus, you kick away the cigarette you dropped and take out another. “Yeah,” you assure Steve. “Just remembering that…you,” you snap your fingers whilst you reach for the lighter with your other hand. “Entered secret Santa. So you have to come,” you feign a laugh and lean your head down to finally light the cigarette you never actually gave life to before. “Rules are rules. You’re coming back.”

Steve watches you with concern for a few more lingering seconds before he lifts his hands and smiles softly. “Fine, fine don’t pull my leg. I’ll come back.”

You grin at him. “Did you get me?” You ask out of curiosity.

Steve steps back and shakes his finger. “You’re going to have to wait.”

“I’ll tell you who got you,” you tease him.

Steve shakes his head. “I like the suspense of waiting.”

You hum in comprehension and finally take a drag as he’s walking back. You lean against the door frame and keep your smile as you watch him walk to his car. You don’t wave goodbye because he’s coming back, he has to. And the moment he’s out of the driveway you frown and slide down to sit down on the doorstep and continue to smoke.

It shouldn’t, but it distracts you away from what lurks in the shadows. If only you could completely forget…

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Rowan will be Dustin’s father figure. :) Mike and Will have Hopper in some ways, Lucas has his dad, Rowan will be Dustin’s 🥹

Tagged- @middle-of-the-earth @x-theolivia @redskull199987 @lilyhw1 @5sosjay

#fanfiction #damn-stark #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #dustin henderson #oc character #Jim hopper #eleven #fanfic #series #chapter 5

[dirtbra1n]

WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT KRISNIX VS WRIGHTWORTH

HI SUNNFISH it’s been eight days and I’m not getting any work done right now anyway. Ha ha ha ha. I’m gonna go dig up some of my nutjob krisnix hashtag #Posts

okay that done I’m actually gonna talk about wrightworth first. baby’s first yaoi probably It makes sense and it compels me.

really really beautiful thing about wrightworth is how many people go into the first ace attorney thinking that the prevalence of attorney yaoi is a result of typical fandom behavior and get blasted with the concentrated blast of shu takumi’s vision of how chronically strange normal guy phoenix wright decided to completely change the trajectory of his life for one of his boy best friends from the 4th grade. unnecessary feelings and its ramifications. miles edgeworth choosing death gate. the ugly ways phoenix does not cope with this, on account of his many issues. redacted hospital scene. sundry textual instances of phoenix’s well-adjustment re: edgeworth shot at the player point blank. miles edgworth That man… gate. wrightworth is so fucking much you guys……..

I do not see either of these two biting the bullet to establish a formally romantic relationship in any capacity until they are well into their thirties. they need to be extraordinarily strange at and about one another for decades on end and then elope on a thursday afternoon, which will not ease up the strangeness but will grant them various legal benefits. love wins! Longer post would talk about how and why they’re weird. but I need to talk ab

sunnfish when I tried the media tab first for collected krisnix miscellany I passed this and it made me cry laugh

I need to talk about krisnix

trying to pin down my deepest rooted beliefs is like pulling teeth. You know there was a time where apparently I saw nothing interesting about kristoph. I’ve become a better and weirder person in the meantime. it makes sense. it compels me. ha ha ha ha.

^ 2dirt2brain krisnix breakdown of december ’23. of which we’re all very aware I’m sure. kristoph wants control of the world around him and is as incapable of fulfilling that desire as any mortal man. phoenix has a lot more free time nowadays. regular dinners together. seven years. play hooky, get hooked. unkillable phoenix wright. you can’t fake an affection that long—seven years. come on, now. get back to the office after they take him in and slump a little. you ought to say, now or never, that you kinda like the guy.

you’ve (🫵 not him) got to know that phoenix wright is a hard as hell guy to know We’ve compared him to tashiro before sunnfish I know this. he doesn’t open up. clam shut tight of course I think we should give kristoph a paring knife to try and crack him open. just can’t trust him with knives bigger than that one.

like of course the psychosexual warfare is the main thing. but seven years together and zero reason to believe that the guy who cost you your attorneys badge would murder anyone means seven years of some of the heartiest insane appealing-directly-to-me Situation the world has ever, ever seen. some of this is psychosexual warfare. everything else is a secret worse thing.

I think flawed attorney and devastatingly loyal man phoenix wright should try to save kristoph’s life. bet you never thought you’d care this much about capital punishment, huh, phoenix?

also kristoph should be time looped

now considering the VS. statistically I trust more people with wrightworth because the sheer numbers go crazy. I trust myself and my friends with krisnix more however because krisnix is fundamentally custom built for me to chew on and bite into. two cakes. we should put edgeworth and kristoph in a cage match. I think they just WOULD NOT get along, separate from phoenix entirely. tear each other’s dicks off!!!!!

as a bonus here is a short list of things that remind me of krisnix

boris by lo-fang

that myth about a dog locking its jaws as it bites into you

magnet poem I spent actual hours laboriously stitching together whilst listening to kristoph’s solitary confinement theme

Also munchausen by proxy have I said that already

and of course the second bonus:

#started getting very tired in the process of writing this if things start falling apart that’s why. Open to call to everyone forever #ALWAYS feel free to ask me about krisnix. shit is soooo fucked up Did you know i can fix ace attorney. did you know this guys #askbox #AND WHILE I’VE GOT YOU HERE. KRISTOPH LOVED AND LOVES HIS YOUNGER BROTHER. IT WOULDN’T HURT HALF AS HAD THEMATICALLY IF HE DIDN’T #Okay fin. two cakes…… i love you sunnfish………….

[majesty-mothra]

Alright this happened like two hours ago and i need to share this or i will explode.

ok so i was walking the dogs late at night as one dose, and i was walking my dog bambam (a 7 year old yorkie dog. ik this isn't important to the story but incase y'all are wondering.) anyways i was about to use the walk in gates to get back into my main complex, and next to the walk in gate is this drive in gate is this suuuuper old drive in gate thats super easy to break, and DOSENT HAVE ANY TYPE OF SENSORS. And this absolute BABOON of a man pulls only half way through this open drive in gate and starts trying to talk sweet to me, i try telling him no, he keeps prying and i tell him im a lesbian, and he says “can i change that?” obviously i tell him no and to fuck off. now at this point the super old drive in gate is closing on this ass hats car, and he realises this and tries to pull away. now what i am going to say next is a beautiful example of karma being the loveliest bitch ever. now this mans bumper gets caught on the gate, and TEARS OFF ALONG WITH HIS RIGHT TAIL LIGHT. AND IS ONLY HOLDING ON BY THE LEFT TAIL LIGHT AND THE STRENGTH OF THE UNIVERSE. funniest shit ive seen in weeks istg

#dumbass #what the fuck #dumbmen #bad karma

[lonely-lost-soul]

Daddy's Little Girl

Request 10: Dad!Schlatt angst with the reader trying to protect Tubbo because the reader is his older sibling?

Requested By: Anonymous

TW: Abuse

Do you want angst? I’ll give you angst. Never challenge me again. /J

ily /p

(Hints of Wilbur and Techno x reader if you squint)

Growing up with Schlatt as your father had its ups and downs, on one hand, he was hilarious and let you get away with anything you wanted, but on the other hand, he had a drinking problem. When you were a little girl his drinking wasn’t too bad, some days were worse than others but most of the time he was semi cognizant. However, when your baby brother Tubbo came along everything changed, for a while he was sober. He was clear-headed, held a stable job on the SMP, and even helped you with your homework, but alas all good things come to an end. As soon as Tubbo started school, and your mom left he started up again, you weren’t happy. Your horns had begun to curl around your head around that time and your baby brother was enamored. He would wrap his chubby hands around them to pull and trace his fingers over the ridges, Tubbo would declare his horns were going to be just as magnificent as yours one day. You would flush at the praise and ruffle his hair, and told him you could already feel his little nubs growing in, he was overjoyed at the news.

Before Tubbo, Schlatt would never lay a hand on anyone, but something inside him crumbled. You had a few close calls, Tubbo bothering your father a little too much and Schlatt raised a hand to the boy. Luckily, you were always there to diffuse the situation and direct your father’s attention away from your baby brother. You were old enough to know just how impulsive and uncaring drinking made him, you tried to keep Tubbo as occupied as you could while keeping up with your work.

When Tubbo was ten years old he made his first friend.

Tubbo told you the kid’s name was Tommy, and he shared all the new information about his friend. He informed you he had two older brothers named Wilbur and Technoblade, who were about a year or two older than you. Tubbo desperately wanted to introduce you to him, but with your dad to keep an eye on you had to decline, at least for the time being. Tubbo pouted at your response and gave you, your biggest weakness puppy dog eyes, you relented. Promising to go with Tubbo to Tommy’s house in a few days to meet the brothers and supervise his play date with Tommy.

You just hoped your dad would be alright.

The day finally rolled around for you to meet the elusive Tommy and his brothers, you informed your dad that you and Tubbo would be gone for the rest of the day, he said it was alright. You think he just wanted to excuse to drink more while both of his children were gone.

“Come on (Y/n), let’s go already!” Tubbo called with a groan, you hushed him softly,

“Put your jacket on first.”

He reluctantly slipped on his jacket and grabbed his bag, you followed him out the door. Tubbo was buzzing with excitement holding his bee plush close to his chest, going on and on about how great Tommy was and how much he hoped you’d like Wilbur and Techno. Eventually, the both of you came upon a small cabin in the middle of a clearing, it was surrounded by lush pine trees and a little boy in a red and white shirt stood by the front gate.

“Tubbo!” The boy you assumed was Tommy shouted rushing over to the gate,

“Tommy!” Tubbo shouted with a laugh, he looked like he wanted to run towards him but first, he looked up at you. You smiled softly and gave your brother a nod, his face lit up and he charged towards Tommy. They met in the middle and Tommy immediately tackled Tubbo to the ground, a young man with glasses opened the window and began to shout at the blonde. He picked his head up and spotted you in the distance, his entire face flushed red, you sent him a little wave. The boy adjusted his glasses slamming the window shut, you titled your head to the side before seeing him and a taller boy with pink hair. While Tommy and Tubbo wrestled in the dirt the older boys walked up to you, they introduced themselves as Wilbur and Technoblade. They both were hybrids like yourself, you immediately felt at home, no wonder Tubbo liked it here so much.

Through the power of conversation you found out Technoblade was a piglin hybrid and Wilbur was half nymph, Tommy was just a plain human. Either their dad got around or some of them were adopted, you’d ask Tubbo later, figuring it was rude to blatantly ask that question. You found out the entire family thrived off of bulling one another it was quite funny to watch Technoblade roast the ever-loving shit out of Wilbur, unknown to you whenever you let a giggle or two slip past your lips Wilbur would flush and Technoblade would smirk. The end of the playdate rolled around and you found yourself not wanting to leave your new friends, Wilbur offered for you and Tubbo to sleep over but you politely declined. Technoblade shot Wilbur a concerned look when with a smile you said your dad would have your ass if you and Tubbo stayed over.

A few years went by since your first meeting, Tubbo and Tommy became inseparable and honestly, you and his brothers were in the same situation. Although you couldn’t see Technoblade and Wilbur as much as Tubbo could see Tommy the three of you were attached at the hip. Wilbur would constantly write you letters, sometimes the handwriting would switch and you noticed Techno put his blunt opinions into the conversation. Tubbo found one of the letters once and insisted that both boys must have a crush on you, you denied that with a soft laugh, just like your father you were under the impression you were unlovable.

Speaking of your dad, he was rarely ever sober at this point, rather being numb than feeling anything significant. Luckily he could be slightly functional, but mostly it was you raising Tubbo and protecting him from your dad’s off days. Speaking of an off day you had just gotten back from a trip of visiting your favorite boys, it was late and Tubbo was asleep in your arms. He was scratched up a bandaid was on his nose, and a bandage wrapped around his arm, he had taken a particularly nasty fall while wrestling with Tommy. Luckily both you and Wilbur were skilled in patching up rambunctious little brothers and he was fixed up in no time flat. You noticed the light on in the living room and grew concerned, your dad was always passed out in his bed by this time of night, was he alright?

Tubbo mumbled something in your arms and you pulled him close to your chest as to not wake the boy. “Dad?” You called softly wandering into the living room, much to your surprise he was very much awake. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure he reeked of whiskey and cigarettes, so tonight was a bad night.

Noted.

“You reek.” You commented adjusting the sleeping Tubbo in your arms, your father shot you a dirty look.

“Where the fuck have you been with the brat?” He hissed baring his teeth at you, “Do you know how late it is? Do you know how worried I was!” You hated the way your stomach churned with guilt and relief, at least he noticed his children were gone. He shouldn’t be praised for the bare minimum, Technoblade would’ve told you gruffly if he knew the full extent of your relationship.

“Out with Tommy, Wilbur, and Technoblade. Phil’s kids remember?” You responded with a soft sigh and he sent a dirty look your way standing up from his recliner. You backed up a few steps, the man towering over you eyeing Tubbo who was beginning to stir in your arms. Hesitantly you placed a hand over the back of his head, keeping it pressed tightly against your neck and shoulder. It only seemed to make Schlatt’s face scrunch up more,

“He looks so much like your mother.”

“I know dad.”

“Why’s he beat to shit?” He slurred reaching his hands out towards Tubbo, “You let him get hurt?”

“Tommy and he were just wrestling. Just being kids. I patched him up, he’s just sleepy.”

“So you let him get beat?”

“Dad no did you not hear me-” He grabbed one of your horns roughly yanking them down. You yelped in pain dropping Tubbo in the process, he hit the ground with a hard thud crying out from the rude awakening. “Dad you’re hurting me-”

“(Y/n)? Dad?” He murmured groggily barely processing the situation unfolding in front of him.

“Tubbo go to your room.” Your dad hissed at him, spit flying everywhere, Tubbo looked terrified. He looked at you and nodded the best you could with your dad’s iron-like grip on your horn, he scurried away and you felt your eyes fill with tears. If only he was a little older, he’d maybe be able to help you, but he was a child and didn’t need to see what was going to happen. “You’ve been running around without a care in the world, you’ve been going free for way too long. You’ve been a bad girl and now your getting punished.” Your blood turned to ice as the gip on your horn tightened,

“Dad, please I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure we get home on time from now on, you’re drunk. Please don’t do this you’ll regret it come the morning.”

“Shut the fuck up (Y/n)!” He spat his tobacco spit flying all over your face, you grimaced trying not to choke in disgust. “You think you know everything about the world but you don’t, you’re a stupid naive child!” He slammed the side of your head against the brick wall of your house. You yelped in pain feeling something crack against the wall, but it wasn’t your skull, it was your right horn.

“Dad- Dad please stop my horn-” You pleaded as he dragged you back by the hair and slammed you into the wall again. Your horn cracked once more and you screamed in pure agony, blood began to stain the wall where your head it, and your horn began to crack. “DAD!” You sobbed out as your horn broke off falling on the ground with a thud. Blood began to drip down the side of your head, your sobbing seemed to snap Schlatt back to his senses as he let out a soft call of your name.

“Fuck. Fuck baby I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked pulling you into his chest, he pressed his hands against the stub of your horn. You whimpered in pain and Schlatt shushed you softly, “I’m so sorry baby girl. My little girl, I didn’t mean it.” His head pressed into the crook of your neck, just where Tubbo’s was moments prior. “I’m such a fuck up. I’d never hurt you...I can’t do this…”

“It’s okay…” Your voice cracked eyes wide and glassy, it wasn’t okay but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Can I go to bed now…”

“Lemme patch you up first. You might bleed out...scare Tubs.” Schlatt grumbled and you nodded numbly. He helped you to your feet and you swayed, your dad haphazardly bandaged the side of your head and cauterized your horn. That might’ve hurt even more than losing the horn on its own, you held back your whimpers as your dad apologized even more for the pain he caused. “Get some rest alright…I love you.”

“Love you to dad,” You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, you waited until he slipped into his room before you made your way into Tubbo’s. The boy was downright sobbing under his blankets, you pulled back the covers to find him desperately clinging to his bee plush.

“(Y/n)?” He whimpered looking up at you with wide eyes,

“Hey, Tubs…” Your smile was tense and he frowned, “Mr. Bumbles protect you okay? Just like we talked about?” Tubbo nodded lip trembling, he reached his hand up to touch your bandages. You flinched at his touch,

“Where’s your horn.”

“Unimportant. Just got into a little scuffle with dad, nothing your big sister can’t handle. Tubbo why don’t we go see Mr. Phil.”

“But it’s so late?”

“It’s okay. Go pack up a bag, you’ll be there for a while.”

“What about you?”

You sent him another tight-lipped smile, “I can’t stay there with you, unfortunately.”

“Then I don’t want to go!” He huffed defensively, your smile was wiped off your face.

“Not a suggestion-”

“NO! I’m not leaving you!” You grunted feeling him slam into your middle wrapping you in a tight hug. “Not with him...I need you. Who’s gonna protect me? Or read me bedtime stories? Or kiss me goodnight!” He began to cry through his protests and you knelt in front of him, you placed your hand on his cheek.

“Technoblade and Phil can protect you just fine. Wilbur would love to read you and Tommy’s bedtime stories. You’re too old for goodnight kisses-”

“Am not!”

“I can’t protect you anymore, not from dad.” Your voice shook a little before swallowing thickly, Tubbo’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. He’s never seen you look so scared, you were serious. “You deserve to grow up normally and happily, with a good dad and family.”

“You're good family.” Tubbo insisted grabbing your bigger hand with his own, you let out a wet laugh and held your other hand to your mouth. Swallowing again before responding to Tubbo’s heartfelt compliment,

“I’ll always be your family and I’ll always be your big sister. But for now, you’ll temporarily be part of Tommy’s family. Just until I’m old enough to take you away from all of this.”

“Promise?” He held out his pinky,

“Promise.” You responded interlocking your pinky with his own, he seemed much more satisfied and willing to listen to you now. “Now go pack up alright? We gotta go before the morning,” Tubbo nodded at you and began to gather his things in his bag. Eventually, he was all packed up and you both snuck out towards Tommy’s home, the side of your head was throbbing and you felt completely off balance stumbling over your feet a few times. Tubbo grew concerned but never actually voiced said concern, the two of you came up on Phil’s doorstep. You loudly began to knock at the door and Technoblade answered sword drawn, glasses were haphazardly thrown on his nose,

“(Y/n)? Tubbo?” He blinked blearily, “it’s like three am what-” Adjusting the glasses he finally got a good look at the both of you, Tubbo was still in his footie pajamas and you had officially bled through your bandages. “Who did it.”

“Technoblade please-”

“Who. Hurt. You.”

“I’m so tired, please just go get your dad.” You pleaded locking your eyes with his own, they softened considerably before muttering under his breath.

“Fine. But I’m getting Wilbur to look at your horn.” He demanded marching away from the door, you gently urged Tubbo inside and you both sat down on their couch. Tubbo yawned sleepily and leaned against your side,

“You can go to sleep. You’re safe now Bumblebee.”

“But you’ll be gone when I wake up…” He held Mr. Bumble closer to his chest and you brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I want you to have Mr. Bumble!” Tubbo held the toy out to you, your lips dipped into a little frown.

“Tubs he’s your favorite-

“He protected me from dad. So I’m sure he’ll protect you too.” You wanted to sob as you took the bee from his hands, you were going to say something else when Phil and Wilbur walked into the room. Phil gave you a pitying smile, before calling Tubbo over to him.

“Hey mate. Let’s get you settled into the guest room for now yeah?” The older man smiled at your brother and he nodded sleepily walking over to Phil. He gave you a look that said we’ll talk later as Wilbur walked over to you, the frown on his face was rock solid.

“You gonna explain yourself?” He scolded you like a parental figure would, you bit your lip and shook your head. Wilbur sighed the bags under his eyes were dark and you murmured a soft apology. He reached out and took your cheek in his palm, he leaned close and you felt his breath on his lips. You felt your cheeks turn pink and he leaned in...to take a better look at your horn.

God, you were so stupid why did you think he was going to kiss you just now?

“Jesus Christ…” He murmured as he unwrapped your wound gently. “They fucked you up honey,” Wilbur said softly, his voice dripping with pure concern, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m alright...It’ll get better.” You smiled a tight-lipped smile that only caused Wilbur’s eyes to flash with pure rage, “Seriously Will. Please just let it go.”

“I’ll never understand you.” He muttered grumpily, much like his brother did when he greeted you at the door. “How can you not want justice for what they did to you? I don’t understand-” Wilbur blinked a few moments pulling away from you, you refused to meet his eyes. “-Did your dad do this to you?” He saw the fear spark in your eyes, “that fucking piece of shit! TECHNO!”

“Wilbur please no- no please he didn’t mean too he was drunk!” You slapped your hands over your mouth and he looked at you with horror. “Wilbur please don’t do anything he didn’t mean to do it, I have to look out for him!” Your breathing got short and rapid, immediately Wilbur felt bad for being so aggressive, “He’ll die without me.”

“It’s not your job to look after your father.” Wilbur looked at you with pity,

“Yes, it is. He’s my family.”

“Family doesn’t do this to you.” He motioned to your missing horn, the motion now made you feel wildly self-conscious, “they don’t hurt you.” You bit the bottom of your lip so hard it began to bleed,

“Just don’t tell Technoblade. He’ll kill him. You know he will, I don’t want that.” Wilbur didn’t look happy about the situation but he agreed reluctantly, but only if you stayed the night alongside Tubbo. You told him you would,

But you’re a liar.

Phil came back into the room a little later and asked to talk to you privately. He asked you what was going on and you explained the entire situation to him, practically pleading for him to take your baby brother in while you got Schlatt under control. Phil of course agreed, but he was not happy about you going back to your dad, especially since you were already injured. You assured him all would be okay, your dad meant well and with Tubbo out of the house, you can put all your energy into fixing him.

Phil let you go that night, and he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

No one in the Minecraft household heard from you again after that night. You seemed to slip out of everyone's memory, Wilbur met Sally and she and his son consumed his life. Technoblade moved out of the house to spread his wings, and the only person who even seemed to care that you were missing was Tubbo. Yet, even so, you began to slip out of his memory too, barely remembering your face. It broke him to pieces that he couldn’t remember his sister, and when he asked Wilbur about you the man's memory was just as fuzzy. The only thing he had was the letters the both of you sent back and forth to one another, he’d gifted them to Tubbo after he discovered them again under his childhood bed. Tubbo thought that maybe, just maybe, word of their new nation would cause you to come out of hiding.

It didn’t.

Eventually, he had to leave his memory of you behind and focus on helping Tommy and Wilbur. He hoped wherever you were you were proud of him, you wouldn’t want him to be miserable and dwell on you, you’d want him to live.

When he saw his father upon the podium the day of the election all he wanted to do was confront him about you, but there were other things to worry about like the fact that Wilbur and Tommy had just gotten exiled. Schlatt died before he got to ask about you, then right after that Wilbur died by Phil’s hand and everything was blown to shit, he had Tommy and that was all he needed.

Wilbur woke up to the soft chirping of birds and an angel sitting on a hillside. He couldn’t feel the grass under his palms or his heartbeat, but he felt something warm flood through him when he saw the angel. She turned towards him, his memory of her was fuzzy but her name wasn’t, “(Y/n)?”

“Hi Wilby, long time no see.” You smiled softly, both horns were missing but your soft ears twitched eagerly.

“Where...are we?” Wilbur whispered walking over to you to sit by your side, “What happened to you?”

“I lost another horn being stupid. Died from an infection while dad was away on a trip.” You pulled your legs close towards your chest, “you’re dead Will. We’re dead. It’s been quiet here for so long.”

“Dead…” He breathed out the negative memories flooding into his brain; he squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Are we ghosts?” You shrugged your shoulders,

“I don’t know, never tried to...go back,” Wilbur watched as you ran your hand through the grass even though Wilbur knew you couldn’t feel it. “Tubbo would be disappointed in me. So upset I died, I’d rather he not know. Makes it easier on everyone I think.” You turned to him, hair falling in your eyes, they were empty and your skin was so pale, he couldn’t imagine what he looked like in comparison. “Are you going to go back?” You spoke again after a few moments of silence, there was a tense atmosphere that filled the room, you didn’t want to be lonely.

“If you’re here, that’s where I’m going to stay. At least for a little while.” Wilbur looked at you, your eyes wide with shock, a brilliant smile spread across your cheeks.

“Promise?”

“With all my heart honey.”

#dadschlatt x reader #platonic schlatt x reader #platonic tubbo x reader #brother tubbo x sister reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #platonic dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x you #abuse #fanfiction #fanfic #trigger warning: abuse #angst

[jeehye]

BNHA villain boyfriends when you’re depressed

— Shigaraki and Overhaul

— Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Depression / Mental Disorders, Implied Nudity, Probably OOC Shigaraki and Overhaul. Harsh-ish Overhaul(?)

Genre: angsty fluff

A/N: This is a little more personal. Sometimes we go through the motions and that is okay. I am proud of you for even simply browsing through Tumblr. I promise you, someday it’ll get better, so hold your head high, these waves will pass. If you ever need to talk, I am always here for you. You’re doing amazing, never forget that. 

You didn’t know how it got so bad.

Clothes littered the floor, shoes and stuffed animals thrown all over. Plates of half eaten food and water cups stacked up; all creating a chaotic mess.

You wore a baggy shirt and undergarments, mix matched socks that were slightly coming off your feet, but you did not care.

You hadn’t cared for days now.

Everything in life was like a seemingly tedious task. Even combing your hair was almost excruciating to do, and not because you had to yank knots out of your hair, but because it consumed every fiber of your being to get out of your bed and do so.

You had no energy. No enthusiasm.

You were so tired of it; so, so tired of it all. You felt desperate as you sunk deeper and deeper into this dark abyss. It was like you were trying to reach up for air but the weight of everything was continuously dragging you down. You desperately wanted to cry out for help, but you didn’t have the energy or strength, or even humility to ask for help. And so, you just laid there, time continuously ticking by, as the world continued to move forward, and you stayed stagnant in one place.

And as the sun rose on the fifth day, you heard a creak at your door and footsteps shuffling inside your room.

Shigaraki Tomura

Shigaraki came in quietly, like he always does when visiting your room. He didn’t know what was going on with you, but he knew deep down you did not want to be alone. So, he sat on the ground of your messy bedroom, switch in hand, playing Animal Crossing.

You could hear the background music of the game and the sounds of Shigaraki fishing. Sometimes he would grunt in frustration when he failed to catch a fish, which placed a tickle of a smile on your face.

After about 30 minutes of listening to his gameplay it went dead silent. You could hear him get up from his spot and shift his body weight onto your bed, causing it to creak.

“That damn Nook is a fraud”, Shigaraki grumbled, “This stingy bastard wants me to pay 548,000 bells for an expansion! This game is literally what I hate about society and those fucking ugly villagers do not deserve homes”, he continued to rant, scratching his neck in frustration.

You could practically feel him sulking.

“Maybe…” You murmured quietly “…maybe we could play together?” You lifted your head to look at him, your face still puffy from the crying session you had.

Shigaraki hated when you cried. He hated when you got the way you did too. When he first started dating you, he had made it a promise that he would protect you from everything, and make sure you were treated with the upmost care and respect. In some ways he can’t help but feel like he failed you, but he knows blaming himself would only make you feel worse.

Shigaraki gave you a soft smile and reached for the s/c switch that was sitting on your nightstand with 4 fingers.

He handed you the switch and you booted up Animal Crossing: New Horizons. As you were getting through Isabel’s mantra, you felt Shigaraki shift in bed.

“Y/N…” He said quietly, slipping his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into your neck.

You hummed in response, all of your attention focused on running to open your island’s gate for Shigaraki to join.

“I know you are dealing with a lot,” He continued, “but do not have to take all of the weight of world on your shoulders, you can give some of the weight to me…”. He hugged you closer and kissed the side of your jaw.

You felt tears prick your eyes, “Thank you…I honestly do not know what I would do without you”, you said meekly, wiping your face.

“Mhm…I love you Y/N”.

Overhaul

“Your room is so filthy; don’t you ever think about cleaning it up?”

You shuddered in your bed as you heard the monotone man step foot into your room. You could feel the man’s judgement in his voice and it made your eyes prick with tears.

“I am sorry boss”, you muttered, ashamed and disgusted with yourself. “I’ll do bett-“

“No.” He firmly said, cutting you off.

You could hear him breathe deeply, as if he was trying to muster up courage, before his gloved hand yank your body out of your bed and into his chest. Your eyes widening in disbelief.

“Sir?” You looked at him in bewilderment, knowing damn well you’re not up-to-date on his cleanliness protocol.

Suddenly, dread washed over you as you thought he was going to reconstruct you right here, or just kill you because of how you were, but he didn’t do either of those things. Instead, Kai dragged you into your bathroom.

“I told you to stop with the formality”, he grumbled underneath his mask, “now put your hands up”.

You did as you were told, and he slipped your shirt off, as well as your undergarments and socks. You felt the cold air surround you and as you were about to shiver and cover your body self-consciously, strong arms picked you up and gently placed you into the warm bath water.

Kai turned away to take off his mask and gloves off and set them neatly on the marbled vanity table before turning back to tend to you.

“Aren’t I dirty?” You muttered your eyebrows furrowing together.

His golden eyes looked at you, his face expressionless, “why else do you think I’m washing you?”, he asked in a more matter-of-fact tone, as he lathered your h/c hair with f/s shampoo.

You could feel your shoulder loosen up as he massaged your scalp, your body slowly sinking into the tub in bliss.

Kai’s eyes softened at the sight of your pure, fragile state. He saw you as someone worthy of so much and he hated when you got into your depressed states. He tried his best to build you up as much as he could, though some could argue that his methods were more-or-less tough love, but regardless the man adored you. Even if you rolled in mud and were covered head-to-toe in dog shit, he would still never view you as dirty. Kai held cleanliness next to godliness and you were a god(dess) to him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me angel”, he hummed, rinsing your hair off with the shower head.

You hummed in response, the warm water lulling you to sleep. “Too late…” you mumbled, and as soon as you said that you felt the shower head looming over you turn off and the sound of the bath tub being drained.

You were about to whine in protest when the same strong arms picked you back up and wrapped you into a warmed, soft towel.

“It is not good to fall asleep in the bath”, Kai scolded, wiping your body down and putting a new pair of clothes on you.

Once he was finished, you tried walking back to your bedroom, but he stopped you. “I am having your bedsheets changed currently so you cannot head back to bed yet. You can go once they are done.”

“Okay…thank you”, you said shyly.

Kai looked at you intensely for a moment before he wrapped his arms around you. “Y/N, I do not mind taking time out of my day to take care of you”, he said slowly, pressing his lips against your wet hair. “You’re my everything angel, I want to make sure you are always okay”.

You nodded in response, “Thank you Kai…for everything”.

“I love you angel".

Requests are Open!

#Shigaraki x Reader #Shigaraki Tomura x Reader #Overhaul x Reader #Chisaki Kai x Reader #Fluff #Angst #BNHA #MHA #Boku No Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #MHA x Reader #BNHA x Reader #Shigaraki Tomura #Overhaul #Chisaki Kai #MHA Fanfiction #BNHA Fanfiction #I was going to add dabi but I made him so ooc y/n might kill me #sfw

[get-shiggy-with-it]

gin and tonic and bad, bad men

Collab Masterlist

✧ pairing: bartender!dabi x waitstaff!fem!reader

✧ word count: 6k

✧ warnings: misogyny, scummy dabi, noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, cat calling, toxic relationships, toxic work environment, face fucking (?), smut, semi-public sex (in an alley), alcohol, drunk reader, drunk sex, smoking mention, brief spitting, humiliation, light degradation, probably incorrect use of restaurant terminology, reader is implied female but no body parts are explicitly gendered

✧ summary: Dabi is willing to protect you from those awful, nasty men who torment you at work, but he never does anything on the house -- or the newbie at the bar catches dabi's attention and everyone else's.

✧ a/n: Heyy my first dabi, and he's scummy as hell in this. who's shocked? Not me. This is for the BNHAREM collab and it's a coworker/workplace au! Please go check out all the other works, everyone is so talented! Enjoy~

Dead men tell no tales, but drunk men’s mouths run wild.

Liquor loosens the lips like no other force of nature.

Dabi knows this to be true.

Whiskey runs hot in the blood and makes hands reach to lay claim on whatever is closest, whatever is prettiest within their grasp.

Alcohol on the tongue draws forth cravings from deep, hidden pits in men—bears their ugly truths to the world—and Dabi is the master of this liquid sorcery.

He sits, high and mighty, behind the safety of his bartop and watches the sea of bodies grow loose with vodka and gin and in turn he drinks their secrets. Sees the things they hide in sobriety and knows their nature with a removed certainty that is only found in those who have seen the darkest depths of mankind and come out the other side stinking of their filth.

The mahogany slab that separates Dabi from the waves of slobbering drunkards does nothing to stop the infection from spreading. He knows their thoughts, knows their truth, knows what their hands long to bruise, because they’re his thoughts too.

His truth.

His longing.

Kept only at bay by the simple fact that the boss doesn’t like him drinking on shift. Likes to keep his air of professionalism even if the bar is nothing more than a seedy dive in the bad part of the bad part of town.

Whatever keeps him off Dabi’s back is fine.

“The bar is over there and that door is to the kitchen…”

Toga’s voice pulls him from his stupor. The dirty rag he’d been using to halfheartedly wipe down the counters leaves his skin slick, calluses soft and plump as the water eats at them. She’s showing around one of the new hires. The turn over rate for staff here is so goddamn awful that this is a near weekly occurrence, so Dabi doesn’t pay her much mind as she wanders over.

It isn’t until her face is shoved up against his across the bar that he looks away from his task.

“Say hi to the newbie!” she cackles, smile just deranged enough to keep her safe from the crowds on packed nights.

Toga doesn’t look it but she belongs here too, in the filth and squalor of humans. But not like him. She thrives and gorges herself on their foolishness, twirling through the mob of patrons, always knowing who’s back to pat for gracious tips and who’s to stab when she needs to.

He glances up through his lashes and is both shocked and unsurprised by what he finds.

Hanging off the end of Toga’s arm, you stand out against the dingy background of the taproom. The smog of the bar clings to it’s staff, making their hair dull and their eyes red rimmed. You haven’t been poisoned yet though. The smell of the downpour raging outside still clings to you and errant raindrops drip down your chin like tears.

“Hey,” he grumbles and with another prodding look from Toga tacks on a gruff, “name’s Dabi.”

“He’s our bartender,” Toga provides after his silence and you smile. He guesses cause you don’t know any better.

You’ll learn not to do that down here soon enough.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Your name slips off your lips and onto his like top shelf tequila. There’s rain on your palm as you reach out for him, so when he takes it to shake, you can’t feel the way the grime clings to his skin—can’t feel the roughness etched into his fingers through the chill.

Can’t see him for what he is.

Meanwhile, you’re practically transparent in the dim, neon light of the bar.

The buttons of your shirt are undone too low, he notices as Toga drags you away to the back. He could warn you, should warn you. That when the late night crowd stumbles in, you’ll want those extra inches of skin covered up. That dressing like that is just asking for something to get smacked.

You must be stupid to not know it, because he doesn’t think you do.

You’re not really carrying yourself like a slut, he thinks, watching you trail along behind his boisterous coworker smiling and nodding and eager to please.

He ought to warn you.

But he knows he won’t.

You’ll be gone within a week and Dabi will swiftly forget your name and face just like the others before you. He’ll sneak shots in while his manager’s back is turned and any memory of you will be filtered out by his abused liver.

But for now, Dabi reigns himself back in to polish some of the obvious stains from his glasses and prepares himself for the show. The doors open in an hour, and he wants to be ready for the action.

The drunk antics of all the city's criminals gets old fast when you’re the one who has to clean up their shit.

Fresh meat is the only real entertainment they ever get around here.

So Dabi watches as you don one of the stained, black aprons and doesn’t tell you to cover up that sliver of your chest practically glowing in the electric red and blue light. Just looks on from the relative sanctuary of the bar as Toga instructs you on how to carry the drink trays and waits patiently to see you be devoured.

After you trip on the way back to the kitchen, Dabi pulls a twenty out of his pocket and shoves it in a jar hidden under the bartop. He makes a mental note to tell the chef he’s betting on just under a week you’ll last.

At the very least he’ll get a free performance and a neat hundred out of your inevitable failure.

He goes back to polishing, only looking up once as you breeze past the bar on your way to unlock the gates for the nocturnal animals of the city to filter in as they please.

You smile at him again as you pass.

Dabi tosses another twenty into the jar.

***

Well, he may have lost the bet, but he can’t find it in himself to mourn the forty dollars too hard.

Today would be your two week anniversary, and honestly, Dabi felt a bit of grudging respect for the determination you showed, no matter how pointless it was.

Determination and foolishness often came hand in hand.

He couldn’t help but think you looked more than a little the fool as you smiled and made unbridled eye contact with the patrons while walking your rounds from table to table. You’d learned enough to cover up a bit more, but he can’t be sure if that’s because you’ve started to notice the stares or because a spring cold front has rolled over the city. Either way, he watches you shiver under the gaze of a particularly rowdy guest and feels a chill run up his own spine as he watches the man’s eyes trail up your thighs, drinking down the slivers of bare skin like his fifth beer of the night.

Dabi is intrigued now.

Wonders how you’ve made it out of the fray every night so far.

Wonders what you’re hiding under those skimpy clothes and friendly, thoughtless smiles.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

It’s inevitable really. When you’re working nights there are certain occupational hazards to expect. So when the little clock above the bar reads just past one in the morning, and you drift out once again into the raging mass of bodies, Dabi isn’t shocked to hear the yelp and smash of glasses just a few minutes later.

The first die has been cast.

He looks up from pouring out two fingers of whiskey just in time to catch the man’s hand slipping between your thighs, dirty fingers digging into the flesh and yanking you down onto his spread legs. The tray of drinks you’d been carrying clatters to the floor, lacing the air with the sweet burn of alcohol and futile outrage.

It’s far too loud to hear what the man says to you, but the way his blackened, ragged nails press five perfect, filthy crescents onto your skin—how they mark you as a worthy target, claiming you with their muck—sends a clear enough message.

Dabi wouldn’t bother watching if it wasn’t you trying to squirm your way out of being passed from lap to lap around the booth. He’s isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit how curious he is to see which way you’ll react.

And while he expects passivity—a drawn look with wide eyes, hoping no reaction at all will leave them bored and searching for a more interesting conquest—Dabi finds himself on the wrong side of the tracks once more.

His eyebrows shoot up, quite the reaction from the generally stony bartender, as your hand cracks open palmed across the face of your captor. A strange, heavy silence falls over the bar. It lasts only a few precious seconds but it’s enough to draw the attention of your manager who pulls you, cursing and snarling like a dog without it’s muzzle, back to the kitchen.

It’s your face that does him in—seals both your fates in dripping cream and purple wax.

Working down here, in this pigsty bar with it’s air that clings and dirties and tarnishes, brightness of any kind is foreign.

Alluring.

And your eyes that shine with the glow of reckless willpower have the same draw as the fat wads of cash that slip too easily from drunk fingers into his tip jar. Defiance is a rare currency in the underworld and Dabi’s fingers itch as your secret is revealed.

You believe you’re worth something.

Even as he hears the rasp of his boss’ voice, berating and threatening from behind the swinging doors, Dabi can’t help but hold the image of your smile turned snarl. You’ll get off with a warning because you’ve lasted this long and it’s a hassle to find replacements with pretty enough faces. But only this once, do it again and you’ll be out on the street.

For his part he tries to look sympathetic when you crowd yourself behind the bar and pout with your tail between your legs.

You haven’t spoken to him since that first night and he hasn’t exactly made an attempt at conversation either.

It wasn’t like you were worth the effort before.

But now, as you sniffle and pretend the pin prick tears in your eyes are just from the bite of the liquor slicked floor, Dabi feels an old heat rise in him. Something stokes the embers that laid dying out inside the prison of his ribs, and he welcomes the familiar burn.

Like an old friend, like a knife at his throat.

The man from before approaches the bar to order another drink and his cloudy eyes don’t even seem to register the way you cower from him, back turned and sinking into the peeling wallpaper. They’ve forgotten you already. To them you are one of dozens, not worth the fight it takes when plenty of properly meek flesh hops from table to table, ripe for picking.

But Dabi see’s the flint in your hands and knows it’s you that lit this fire licking up the back of his throat.

With two rough fingers he beckons you over into the soft overhead spotlights of the bar. Like a beast to its master’s call you shuffle forward into his gravitational pull and look up at him warily.

“Wanna learn how to mix?” he asks, even to him his voice sounds harsh with disuse.

“...sure,” you say quietly, after a brief pause.

You’re warm and soft as he settles behind you, caging you in with his arms under the guise of reaching for a strainer or a jar of olives. Unlike that bastard, now long passed out from drink, Dabi’s face remains free of your claw marks when his chest brushes against you or his hand wanders to the small of your back to move you aside as he serves customers.

He even works up a little smile of his own when you stare, sunny bright over your shoulder at his attempt to distract you from the incident.

The city, the bar, the underground—all of it is an angry, storming ocean filled with angry, storming bodies that swiftly drowns its victims as they desperately tread water in the open, black abyss.

Without him, you’d learn to take the wandering hands and vulgar words or you’d be foolish enough to inhale them in lungfuls and sink to the bottom.

But as you smile and nod while he shows you how long to stir an Old Fashioned, Dabi feels his own neglected determination rise to the challenge.

By the end of the night, you already trail behind him as he does his rounds to each abandoned table. Like a stranded victim to a raft, you cling to the safety he’s dared to provide.

And if he plays his cards right.

He might not come out of this bet so empty handed.

If only you knew, he was no better than the rest of them.

You’d run straight from the trees into the wolf's den.

***

“What’s your favorite drink to make?” you ask.

Dabi glances up at you, his chest pressed against the cool surface of the bar as he surveys the empty taproom. It’s a little over an hour till opening, but the only thing waiting for him outside of this hellhole is an even deeper hellhole, so Dabi almost always finds himself lounging around the abandoned bar. The boss doesn’t care anyway as long as inventory gets taken and any dried blood from the night before is gone by the next day.

You’ve taken to drifting in early too, even sometimes on the nights you don’t work.

Normally, he’d be annoyed, but it’s better you’re here than out on the streets.

At least if you’re bugging him behind the bar, he can keep an eye on you. Dabi’s found recently that you’ve been on his mind with increasing frequency. It’s easier if you’re in his line of sight. There’s a certain reassurance in your dopey little smile and your hand fisted in the back of his shirt—your body knows where you belong even if your pretty little brain hasn’t quite caught up yet.

Pretty.

“My favorite or my best?” he grunts, pushing off the bar and wetting his lips.

“Is there a difference?”

You’re looking at him with what he assumes is meant to be a cocky grin, but he has a hard time taking you seriously with your crossed arms squishing your chest up like that.

“‘Course there is,” he turns to grab one of the highball glasses from it’s rack and sets it down on the counter. “Just because you like something, doesn’t mean you’re good to it.”

When he looks back at you over his shoulder, you’ve got this comical little furrow in your brow.

“To it?”

Dabi presses the tip of his finger into your forehead, “At it, whatever. Don’t frown so much, you’ll look old as fuck soon if you do.”

“You don’t know how old I am,” you scoff and slap his hand away.

“Bet I’m older,” he mumbles, searching the shelves of bottles idly while dropping a few cubes of ice into the glass.

It melts in his palm, slipping through the spaces between his fingers.

Dabi clenches his fist tighter.

“I don’t know about that,” you’re trotting around to the other side of the bar now, slipping into one of the worn, red topped stools and watching him start to mix.

He likes having you for an audience. Any other customer is only concerned with getting his drink as fast a possible, to numb whatever wounds need to be numbed on their insides. But you appreciate the art form of crafting this liquid destruction.

“I’m older where it counts,” he replies simply, pulling a bottle of gin down from near the top shelf and plopping it on the counter.

“Oh really? How’s that?”

Dabi measures out two ounces of sharp, clear liquor and pours it smoothly over the ice. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he works. He knows your eyes won’t leave him.

“Experience,” he offers and doesn’t elaborate.

The tonic water cracks open with a satisfying hiss and bubbles as he tips it into the glass. You trail your fingers through the condensation on the bar absentmindedly.

“I’m not as clueless as you think I am, you know that?”

He does glance at you then, senses the lack of your attention that’s focused on the fading finish of the bar top.

Dabi waits in silence.

You do elaborate.

“There’s some real fucking choice clientele here, but nothing that’s gone down on shifts is like, a new development.”

“No?” he asks because you expect him to respond and because he enjoys the way you perk up when he actually engages in a conversation with you.

He likes that you like it.

His attention.

It’s not often he finds anyone worth the effort.

“No.”

You stare at him expectantly now, eyes flicking between him and the glass as he stirs the drink a few times and grabs a lime wedge.

Dabi rolls his eyes at the clear fishing line you’re casting for more questions, but takes the bait anyway.

He hopes you know how lucky you are.

“What, got groped on the train a few times and now you think you're a seasoned member of the criminal underground?” he squeezes the fruit between two fingers lightly to spread its juice around the rim and lets it float atop the ice. “I fucking knew you were a dramatic little bitch.”

“I am not dramatic,” you pout just like you do every time the boss chews you out.

He gets the distinct feeling you’re just as much of a petulant little brat elsewhere as you are at work. Then again, that is what makes you so interesting. If you didn’t try to gnash those little baby teeth at him every now and again, he wouldn’t have bothered jumping to your rescue so often.

Dabi doesn’t partake in...partners often. People disappoint him, which isn’t shocking considering the amount of shit he’s seen them spew in his years behind the bar. People are dirty and never in the sexy way all those pop songs talk about, and that makes them boring. The allure of inviting someone else into his shoebox little life is shaping them to fit it. You can’t sculpt mud that loses its shape, slips through your fingers and back to the filthy earth where it belongs.

But you haven’t been stained yet.

You sit at his bar looking like a perfect slab of clay, ready for his hands to dip past those sweet, sweet lips and form them to fit only his fingers.

A rare find in a place like this, just like the single malt on his top shelf—unexpected, leaving behind a pleasant burn on his tongue.

He thinks back to that man on the first night he showed you some of the drinks and all the others that came after him. Here, in the bar, you can come scurrying over and hide behind the wall of his chest. You can put Dabi and the counter between you and the mass of hands and whistles.

He hadn’t really bothered to think of what might happen to you when he’s not around.

Who might touch his precious treasure he’s managed to dig out of muck.

Who might try and ruin you before he gets the chance.

His brain is working to rationalize the growing feeling of possession he feels towards the half frown half permanent smile that you fix him with. But he knows.

He knows exactly what he’d like to do to you and how he’d like to do it.

Knows it’s exactly what all those creeps on the train or drunks that stumble in one hour to call would like too.

It’s fine though. People like him wouldn’t be so attracted to people like you if you weren’t asking for it.

And you were asking.

Every time you stood by him, attached at the hip and let him chase off the assholes who tried to get in your pants or practically begged him with your eyes for some scrap of attention—you were asking for him to take control.

Even if you were too stupid to see it for yourself.

Your body knows what you want, even if you deny it with every fiber left of you.

He doesn’t offer another response, just slides the concoction across and into your outstretched hands.

Gin and tonic is simple, bare bones and hard to fuck up. He likes that. Everything else is so goddamn complicated, this type of magic doesn’t need to be.

You seem to forget the weight of the previous conversation and peer curiously down into the glass. Dabi is shameless as he watches your lips wrap around the curved edge and your throat constrict as you swallow.

He likes that more than the floral gin that hits his tongue when you pass the drink back and he sips.

“So which is it, your favorite or your best?”

There’s a pause as he considers the questions before passing the glass back to you.

“My favorite.”

He isn’t looking at the drink when he answers.

“Oh,” you respond quietly, sipping lightly on the drink he’s made and looking at him like he isn’t seconds away from taking you then and there.

“Stay awhile after your shift,” he says, not much thought behind the words. “I’ll drive you home.”

***

You look almost angelic, a beacon amongst the refuse and grime of the back alley, silhouetted by the dying orange glow of a lone street lamp. The door to the kitchen is still rattling in its frame as Dabi pulls you stumbling behind him.

He isn’t angry.

But there’s something burning in him.

In reality, he’d felt the potential of the night the instant he walked through the front doors, slipping behind the bar to clock in only to find you leaned up against the drink racks, ready and waiting.

The same sensation since the first time you’d smiled that dopey smile his way was raging to a crescendo under his skin. He’d been doing you a service all these weeks, keeping you from the prying eyes and fingers of the patrons—keeping them from soiling what was his to ruin.

Tonight he would take what he was owed.

Indulge a bit in what he’d won, the gold nugget he’d plucked from the dirty, city sewer riverbed.

After all, he needed to make sure you were a worthwhile investment.

If the boss thought the restaurant business was risky….well, Dabi knew better.

You struggled a bit as his fingernails dug into the skin on your bicep, but he just tugged harder, clicking his tongue at the jumble of slurred protests you groaned into the sweet summer air. There was a space between the two massive dumpsters out behind the kitchen Dabi used to go to smoke. It was a nice, private little spot. Didn’t smell too great but nothing here did, and that wouldn’t matter when he had you to distract him anyway.

In seconds he had your back to the wall, hidden on either side by steel containers. The brick caught on your uniform and Dabi watched the fabric tighten around your chest and throat. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, but your hands were weak as they shoved at him, easy to gather in one palm and pin down.

He wasn’t exactly sure what put this idea in his head—the urgency in his blood—but it definitely had something to do with that last customer.

It was halfway through your night shift, closing in on one in the morning. Dabi was stuck behind the bar, churning out cheap beers and lines of shots. You’d been forced to brave the sea of regulars, too busy to hide yourself away in the kitchen with Toga or watch with owl-wide eyes as Dabi doled out liquor.

The bar was unusually packed. Not that it was strange for a bar to be full on a Friday night, but he’d never seen the place without an empty seat in sight.

Maybe it was because you were so easily swallowed up by the roiling mass of bodies, or maybe it was because Dabi lost himself in the magic of the drinks—of the mixing and matching and perfecting—that he didn’t notice the man.

That the way this particular customer stared and touched and spoke to you miraculously didn’t end in a smart slap to the face and a screaming session from the manager.

No. It seemed that somewhere along the way he’d let that light in you, the matchstick spark, dwindle just a bit too much, let you sink just a bit too far into the mud of the place. Cause when this man pulled you into his lap and plied you with shot after shot, cheering all the time, calling you his ‘pretty little thing,’ you didn’t put up any fight.

No.

No you smiled that dumb, bright eyed smile at him.

Flashed this nobody asshole Dabi’s sweet little smile and drank the shots he’d poured like Dabi hadn’t wasted the nearly a month driving you home and keeping you safe from the human garbage that wandered in off the street. Like all that work had been for nothing, up in ashes the instant that man’s hand found purchase on your bare thigh and you didn’t so much as squirm in his grip.

You squirm now though.

Fight despite the alcohol blurring your vision and turning your bones to jelly. Normally the boss hates it when his employees drink on shift, but if you want to take it like the fucking slut you were well, who’s Dabi to stop you?

He kept pouring rounds for that table and watched the man tip sweet, top shelf whiskey down your throat. It didn’t take long till you were losing your balance and sinking deeper into the quicksand debris of the bar.

Gin and tonics used to be medicinal—mixed up with quinine to treat malaria. Dabi likes that. Likes the idea that he’s whipping up healing potions instead of Molotovs. Likes the freshness amidst the burn.

But Dabi wants you to burn now.

Wants your throat on fire with the betrayal.

It’s easy to force your knees. The whiskey made you pliant even as you shake your head and look up at him with bleary eyes.

“You’re looking at me now, huh?” he works his tongue across his teeth as the words leave him, spitting straight on your cheek to watch you recoil in disgust. “Didn’t seem too interested in me earlier.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry...what?” you mumble.

He thinks if you were more coherent you might be crying.

Maybe he should have cut you off sooner.

“Don’t act stupid with me,” he still has your hands held above your head and his free hand moves to grip your scalp. “You’ve been behind my bar so many times, there’s no way you don’t know I see everything.”

“Why didn’t you…” Dabi shakes your head as your eyes droop and you gasp at his nails raking your skin. “You could have helped me!”

“What? Help you get fucked by some drunk shit? I don’t think so.”

“No,” you shake your head yourself this time, face screwed up in confusion and as the grit of the alley bites into your knees. “They wouldn’t let me leave, I was scared, Dabi please—”

He is swiftly losing his patience, hand leaving your head to fumble with the clasp of his belt and pants. The look on your face—tears beginning to bead at the corners of your eyes and mouth opening up as words try but fail to find their way off your tongue—is enough to have his cock twitching with interest.

“Listen sweetheart, cause I’m not gonna fucking say this again,” he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest as his dick falls free from his boxers and your eyes go almost all white as he strokes up the ladder of piercings on his shaft. “You might think you’re cut out for this job, but you aren’t shit. Everything’s got a price down here and you’re gonna have to pay the fuck up for what you owe me.”

You look like you want to protest, even in this state—on your knees in an dirty as fuck alley with a fat cock nudging your lips—but he’s got his thumb worked between your teeth, shoving down on your tongue until your jaw pops open and he can sheath himself inside.

The half choke, half sob, half shameful moan that squeezes out past his dick only has Dabi growing harder. It’s been so long since he’s fucked someone’s throat. So long since he’s fucked anything at all, he’s nearly forgotten how goddamn good it feels to have something other than a fist wrapped around him.

His fingers migrate, moving to grip you by the cheeks, keeping your mouth open and jaw locked so you can’t bite him. Not that he thinks you really would.

Your body knows what you want.

And it seems like you really want a fucking dick in your mouth.

He pulls out, listening to the click of the little metal barbells against your teeth and the gasp of air you take before he plunges back in.

“Look at you,” he muses, daring to release your hands which flop uselessly to your sides as he holds your face still and starts to roll his hips. “Don’t know why I waited so long to collect, fucking shit.”

Your neck bulges with every stroke of his hips, and when the ring at the tip of his dick nudges the back of your throat, you gag so pretty he can hardly stand it.

He wonders idly, as you cry and choke on his cock, if you’re thinking about the man in the bar. Wishing it was his length you were lapping at like a good little hole.

Wishing Dabi had been better.

Not like the others.

And for a moment, it has him stilling—the horrid notion that there might have been something not so twisted between you if only he wasn’t scum like the rest, if he wasn’t just hiding his dirt on the inside.

Tar logged lungs and heart.

But then he remembers that if he just fucks you hard enough, you’ll forget all those nasty things until you’re fit just for him. Molded for Dabi right down to the thoughts in your head.

So instead of stopping this now and hoping you’re drunk enough to forget the filth of the alley and the salt of his cum on your tongue, he picks up his pace.

His thighs burn with the effort, not used to this kind of movement after years alone, and your face is a mess of tear tracks and spit that dribbles out in streams around the length of him slamming into your throat.

It’s quick and dirty and hard and everything Dabi has ever been and will always be. Delicious and hot and fresh. His blood is pounding in his ears, drowning out the cries and sobs and whimpers coming from you between his knees. Instead his head is alight with the thought that soon he’ll mark that mouth as his, claim you before the others could. And if the road to hell is paved with good intentions then Dabi doesn’t know where he’s going when he dies, but he’s deep in heaven now.

With a bang and a whimper Dabi will pretend didn’t slip past his lips, he slams past your teeth once more before exploding in your mouth. Thick, white ropes of release coat your tongue and he doesn’t pull out, just works his fingers under your jaw until he feels you swallow around his softening cock.

Only then does he take a step back to survey his work.

Half in shadow, surrounded in trash and debris, cum stained with dirt under your nails, Dabi feels pride well in his chest.

Distantly he thinks that this burning sense of completion, of perfection, of accomplishment, is what an artist must feel—hand finally dropping the brush to gaze upon their life’s work.

A masterpiece.

His perfect, human clay creation.

Your mouth still hangs dumbly open, hands resting on the brick dust coated ground, your eyes are wide and still stare up at him—reminiscent of a peasant gazing onto a king, confused at the power before you. And with the dim burning of the streetlight, illuminating his hair and glinting off the silver piercings adorning his ears, Dabi thinks he must look just that—a king with his crown of bloody jewels.

He watches as you sway and fall forward on your hands and coughing onto the ground. Your chest heaves, your legs shake, and Dabi feels his shoulders soften. He tucks himself away slowly, refastening his belt as your sputtering subsides. With careful steps, he moves to stand in front of you once again, running his hand along the back of your head until your breaths come deeply and his mouth tastes sickly sweet at the way your hands move to grip at his boots.

“Hey,” he mumbles, feeling some strange heat in his face that brings him to his knees before you. “Look at me.”

And you do in an instant.

Dabi half expects a glare, steely and cold like the walk-in but it’s not.

Your eyes are blank and glossy, staring hooded and helpless like a stray cat desperate to be carried away and fed warm milk.

He wipes a bit of his own release from the corner of your mouth and doesn’t question the sudden, intense need to lick behind your teeth. With filthy hands he cups your face and revels in the feel of your swollen lips and the taste of himself on your tongue.

It screams ownership.

And Dabi has never had much to his name so the thought only makes him want to cling harder.

As he pulls away there’s a smear of red dust on your cheek from his thumbs stroking the skin. Marked. Claimed. Coated in a thin layer of grime just like every other poor soul that walks into this place, but that dirt is his. That filth is him, a permanent imprint on your bones.

He thinks you’d look good with his name in black ink etched into your flesh, dark and blatant so anyone who looks at you would know, would see who owns you even when the muck has been washed away.

“You did good,” he says, giving you a smile of his own—maybe his first, surely not his last.

Your voice is nothing more than a sunken ship wreckage of what it once was, interrupted with sniffles and creaks. “I..want to go home….”

“Let me drive you,” his hands reach under your arms to lift you shakily off the ground, head tucked safely into his shoulder as he helps you limp to his car. “Not safe for you to go walking at this time of night. Men can be fucking monsters you know?”

His heart pounds happily in his chest as you nod against him.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his shirt.

Dabi grins wider than he can ever recall. The kind of expression that makes his cheeks ache and his head spin.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” the words drip off his tongue, top shelf truth if he’s ever heard it. “Anytime.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha fanfiction #tw: alcohol #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw misogyny #tw sexism #tw cat calling #tw drinking #tw toxic behavior #tw yandere #tw spitting #bee.writes

[ijustwant2write]

The Cheat-Thomas Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @myimaginesworld​)

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) makes the biggest mistake of her life in one night, praying that her husband will never find out. But no matter how hard she tries to hide it, Thomas Shelby knows everything.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, mentions of weapon, angst, arguing, divorce, threats, rape, violence, death

                                          *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Why had I been so stupid?

I was a reckless woman, a cheater, a filthy, lying cheater. He didn’t deserve this. Not after everything he had been through. Not after everything he had done for me. Yet here I was, hunched up in shock whilst laying in another man’s bed, miles away from my own home.

My wedding ring reflected the light coming through the window, reminding me that I was indeed a married woman. My eyes shut quickly, blocking out the sight of it. It was a cruel tease, rubbing the salt in an already huge open wound. How was I supposed to get out of this? What was I going to do?

The truth is I’m not going to get out of this and I can’t do anything about that.

Everyone knew who I was. I wasn’t going to sneak away easily. If someone spotted me, Tommy would find out almost immediately. Sometimes it was scary how powerful he was. The stranger beside me was still asleep, giving me the chance to get away. Slowly shifting out of bed, I shivered at the coldness, my body covered in goosebumps within seconds. Our clothes were tangled up together, just as we were last night, meaning it was taking longer than it should have for me to escape. I hadn’t even put my underwear back on before I heard him stir. Freezing, my head whipped round to see if he was waking up, and much to my dismay, he was already looking at me, a smirk on his lips.

Without hesitating, I grabbed my purse from the floor, not even fumbling as I pulled out my gun, aiming it right at his head. His eyes widened, mouth falling open in shock.

“If you speak a word of this to anyone, or even think about it, I’ll have a Peaky Blinder take your eyes. Or I could get it all over with now and save you the pain.” I threatened.

He furiously nodded, not able to say anything.

“You don’t know me, you never saw me, and you were never with me. Do you understand?”

He repeated his actions, managing to squeak out a ‘yes’. I felt like I couldn’t move, that if I did, he would somehow shout out to the world that we had slept together. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

(Y/N), you’re standing stark naked in front a man with a gun. 

“Where’s the best exit to sneak away?” I composed myself, slowly lowering the gun.

“O-out the back. It’s a tiny alleyway.”

Standing still for a few more seconds, I made sure he wasn’t going to do anything stupid, continuing to hastily change back into the clothes from the night before.

“You got a hat? A coat?”

“Downstairs.”

“Good, remember what I said. It wasn’t a bluff.”

Rushing downstairs, I took the hat and coat he spoke of, glad that they were big, better to hide myself with. Finding my way to the kitchen, I spotted the back door to the tiny yard, which had a gate leading to the alley. Although I was quick in my step, I had to look normal, not suspicious. It was still very early morning, a slight fog layered the streets (good, another advantage for myself). My mind began to relax a little, seeing that no one was about, until a distinctive voice called out to me.

“No point hiding Mrs Shelby.” Johnny called out from down the street. 

He was leaning against a car, obviously borrowed from Tommy, hands in his pockets with one leg crossed over the other. I glared at him, quickly checking my empty surroundings before marching over to him. 

“Keep your voice down!” I hissed at him, worried that people would be spying through their windows. 

“He knows (Y/N).”

I hated the look on his face. It was a look of disgust, bewilderment, he couldn’t believe I had done such a horrible thing to the man I loved. Why would a woman who had it all, throw everything away in one night? I was married to one of the most powerful men in the country, he could give me anything I wanted, provide protection, money, anything I asked for! And here I was at the crack of dawn, in last night’s clothes and sneaking out like a teenager.

No more words were exchanged as Johnny drove me home. I could see why he was sent to fetch me. Perhaps he would try and get something out of me, or make me slip up. Any old bodyguard would have no effect on me. It also meant the staff knew less about the situation, though I knew word would spread around soon enough.

If I didn’t feel sick already, I surely did now. Johnny parked up all too soon in front of the house, the tires on the gravel making too much noise for my liking. The sun was only just peeking over the horizon, but I wanted to keep hiding in the darkness. Johnny opened the door for me, and I hesitated to get out, dreading what I could be in for. Would it be a screaming match? Would he be silent? Or would I be facing something more...violent?

Slowly stepping out of the car, I avoided eye contact with Johnny Dogs, trying to clear my mind before I had to face Tommy. My legs buckled slightly, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the after effects of alcohol or the fear surging through me. Going into this extravagant house felt wrong. I had decided to stay in a run down, tiny, dirty house squeezed in amongst other properties, rather than this luscious home last night. Now here I was, walking in as if I didn’t live here. This could be the last time I ever stood in these very walls.

If anyone else was here, they wouldn’t have to tell me where to go. He was going to be in his office, cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hand. He would remain silent as I walked in, take his time, maybe down the rest of his drink before speaking. I knew Tommy. He was my husband after all.

My hands were clammy as I opened the door, seeing the back of him as he stared out of the window. I was right about the cigarette and glass. I silently took in a deep breath, approaching the desk timidly, as if I was a child getting told off. That’s how meek I felt, he was practically going to do that, but instead of being sent to my room, I was going to be kicked out of the house. 

“This is late for you. You were never one to stay out that late.” he started, still not looking at me.

I struggled to think of a response.

“The only time you’ve seen the sunrise is when you waited for me, after that big fight. If I hadn’t married you before that day, I certainly would have then.”

I deserved that.

He turned to face me.“Maybe I should have held my breath.”

My voice was extremely shaky as I spoke, tears already rolling down my cheeks."Tommy, I could say this a million times but it will never express how deeply I feel this. I am so sorry for what I did. You know that I would do anything I could to change all of this-"

"You knew what you were doing."

"I-I don't know how to explain it-"

"You fucked another man, (Y/N). Plain and simple." he stubbed out his cigarette harshly, slamming down the glass at the same time.

"No, I ruined everything, I just...I don't understand why I did it!"

"I don't either. Come on then, let's figure it out together." I hated how patronising he was being.

"Tommy I-"

"It can't be me. I haven't slept with anyone. I've given you a good life, haven't I? Was there something you didn't like? Perhaps you didn't like the way the cooks scrambled your eggs in the morning? Or maybe the newest dress I bought for you wasn't up to standards for you?"

"Fucking stop it Tommy!" I raised my voice.

"Oh, you're raising your voice at me now? I didn't realise I was the one in the wrong."

"I know what I did was ducking stupid, and the most disgusting thing I've ever done. I've broken a promise from our marriage, I've deceived you, I acted as if I didn't love you, and for the life of me, I don't know why!"

"I'm not giving you time to figure that out."

"What?"

"I want you out of this house."

"Tommy, please-"

"You knew this was coming as soon as you woke up this morning."

"Yes, and I've been trying to think how I could fix this."

"Well?"

I opened my mouth, quickly closing it when I had no idea what to say.

"Ah, nothing. That's what I thought."

"Tommy-"

"No, fucking enough. You've done the damage."

"But, why can't we do something to fix this?"

"Because it's a big fucking mess. And I don't have the time nor patience to deal with something like this."

"Y-you're not even going to try? Just give up on us like that?"

"Might want to remind yourself what you did last night. I want you out of the house by the morning. You can have a portion of money to keep you going, I won't put you on the streets."

"Tommy, I love you! I want to forget this happened, learn from this-"

"Learn from this? Fucking learn?!"

He wasn't listening, and it was making me angry."Oh, like you're a saint and haven't slept with multiple women!"

"Not whilst I was married! You can try to justify all of this to make yourself feel better, but it won't change what you've done."

"I know! And it's killing me!"

“So how do you think that makes me feel?!” he shouted.“You betrayed me! You were one of the few people I trusted.”

“You can trust me!”

Tommy’s eyes were wide.“Are you fucking stupid?! I am not going to stand here all morning shouting at you. There is no resolving this.”

“B-but...”

“I can’t be with someone who goes behind my back. If this was the other way around, you would be thinking the exact same. So don’t tell me what we’re going to do, because we’re not going to do anything. It’s over (Y/N).”

                                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I let out a heavy huff as I leaned back in my chair, staring at the numbers written out in front of me. After the divorce, Tommy stayed true to his world, giving me a big quantity of money. I had enough to buy a small house, I could live off of the rest for at least a year, maybe a year and a half. However, I knew I would have to start working again. I wasn’t against that, it would mean I could make friends at least. But it would be difficult to find an employer that wanted the ex-wife of Thomas Shelby.

Tommy was able to file for the divorce papers extremely quickly, meaning I was out of the house and his life much sooner than I thought. That didn’t stop me from trying. I apologised everyday, trying to convince Tommy nothing like that would ever happen again, even as the movers were taking my belongings out of the house. But hid mind was made up. I had lost him, I lost the man I loved. 

I heard a thud outside, as if someone had slammed the garden gate. At first I tried to shake it off, it was slightly windy. Perhaps I didn’t put it on the latch properly. When I didn’t hear anything else, I ignored it, looking back on my calculations. I didn’t have to panic about money just yet, though it was still a good idea to be prepared. I was about to redo my numbers, wanting to double check my answers when another sound echoed outside. This time I kept my guard up, heading to my purse on the side and getting out my gun. Turning off the lights, I peeked out of the windows, checking all around the house, but didn’t find anything. There were no more noises, no signs of anyone trying to break in. I was being paranoid, because I found myself lying awake, gun clasped in my hand and staring at the phone, debating if I should call him.

“Hello?”

I had given in.“Tom, it’s (Y/N). Please don’t put the phone down!”

“What do you want? It’s the middle of the night.”

“You say that as if you have a regular sleep schedule.”

He didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry, this is going to sound stupid but I think someone is watching me. I heard noises earlier and just have a strange feeling, like the one I got when-”

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

I was shocked.“I...I had no one else to call. I just thought-”

“Go to bed (Y/N), there’s no one out to get you, not anymore.”

The phone was slammed down, and I couldn’t comprehend what just happened. Tommy may have hated me, despise me even, but what if I was truly in danger? Would he never be there to help me again? It seemed stupid to ask such a question, however, after having years of someone looking out for you. There was no rest for me that night, I couldn’t recall my eyes shutting for more than a second. Not only was I kept awake from the fear, I also couldn’t stop thinking about my ex-husband’s behaviour.

With heavy bags under my eyes, I dragged my feet along the pavement, arms aching from carrying all my food shopping. I hated how far away I was from my home on days like this. I wish I could have afforded to keep my car, another thing Tommy gifted to me. Trying to conjure up any sort of energy left from yesterday, I pushed myself onwards. But as I tried to keep positive, a man practically jumped around the corner of a building, causing us to collide, my food spilling everywhere.

“What the fuck?!” I snapped out of instinct.

“You can’t talk to us like that.” he snarled.

“Who? Actually, I don’t care.”

I bent down to pick up what I could, when someone from behind scooped their arms underneath mine, dragging me backwards. I screamed out loudly, making my body go limp and heavy to make it difficult for whoever had a hold of me. What made me more scared was the fact that there were at least three people walking by, all turning their heads away as if it made me invisible. Flailing around, my heart started racing as I realised I might not escape this, especially as we were met with more men. 

“What are you doing?!” I yelled out.

“Avenging those taken from us, by your husband.” one of them growled.

“I’m not with him anymore!”

“Too late to go back now.”

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The two policemen fidgeted as they stood on the doorstep of Thomas Shelby’s house. They had no power over this man, he had somehow legally/illegally made his way up in the world, bought a huge house, multiple cars, lots of land...and always managed to cover up his tracks. However, today they had to forget about that, they were here on serious business.

Tommy sat at his desk, surrounded by a cloud of smoke from his cigarette. He was preparing for a family meeting, they had a lot of work to do. There was a knock at his office door, and he called for the servant to enter, not even looking up from his papers. 

“Mr Shelby, there are two policemen here to see you.” they explained.

Tommy wasn’t phased. He knew he hadn’t left any tracks from any recent plan of his.“Alright, let them in.”

The policemen timidly entered, approaching the desk. Tommy didn’t bother standing, putting out his cigarette and waiting for them to speak.

“Mr Shelby, I’m afraid we have some...unfortunate news.” one of them started.

“And what would that be then?” 

The officers glanced at each other, scared what could happen to them when they revealed the news.“It’s about your ex-wife, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She’s dead.”

Tommy felt like his heart stopped for a second.“What?”

“She was found dead in an alley way. It appeared she was...forced there, raped, beaten and killed.”

His gaze fell lower, shock filling his system. (Y/N) was dead. She had called him too. She was scared and he did nothing because of the spite in him.

“We’re sorry for your loss, sir. But, we also need to have someone come confirm the body is hers. It’s procedure and-”

“Get out.”

“Yes sir. We will arrange something at a later time.”

The officers scurried away and out of the house as quickly as they could. The servant waiting on the outside of the door had heard every single word, instantly rushing to inform their co-workers. (Y/N) had been a good employer, she didn’t deserve to die that way.

Tommy let out a painful yell as he swiped everything off of his desk. papers went flying, the glass full of old cigarettes and ash smashed along with his glass of whiskey. He kept screaming, not knowing how else to let go of his rage. He pushed over chairs, smashed statues and it still didn’t help. His chest raised up and down as he breathed heavily. His eyes were like saucers, hands gripped into fists as he debated what else he could smash. 

What would have happened if he had just helped her? She wasn’t asking for him to love her or take her back. He was the only person she knew that could protect her. She was alone, scared and asked for the smallest thing. Would she still be alive if he sent men out to patrol around her house? Could she at least escaped with a few bruises? Those men wanted revenge because of something he did, because of his killing. His worst fear had come true. (Y/N) was gone, and this was something he could never fix. 

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fan fic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fan fiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fan fic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fan fiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders bbc #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

[wroteclassicaly]

Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

:)

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

[luck-and-larceny]

2. this was a mistake

"What I prize most?" I knew I was doomed as soon as the pompous drunk opened his stupid mouth. "I have a retinue of beekeepers on retainer in the Honey Yard providing me with the best honey in the Shroud. Why, they just delivered the newest batch this evening before I came here. So tell me, my sweet, do you want a taste of what I have to offer?"

Ew. Ugh. Blegh! Fuck off!

"No!" I say quickly, too fast for my brain to stop me. I correct myself, "I mean… no… I couldn't… That's should be saved for someone special."

It's bee spit. I'm not claiming to have a worldly and refined palette or anything (it can only be so refined when I grew up as a gutter rat). What I am claiming is that bragging about beekeepers on retainer and vats (are they vats?) of special honey is a weird flex.

And yeah. Now I have to steal it. This weird, drunk, rich man losing all his belongings at the Gold Saucer is trying to get me to go back home with him by bragging about honey. And it's stupid. As I slip on the ring I just won from him from this round of cards, I'm irritated. Close to straight up pissed off. I'm this fucking upset because the idea is there now: Steal the honey. Replace it with maple syrup.

It's impractical! It's tedious! It's pointless! And I can't let the idea go and gods dammit I know I'm going to end up doing it! What is wrong with me? Actually, don't answer that.

He's been here all night and the more he's had to drink, the more he just says. I've got that he lives in the Goblet. I got that he is very excited about the three show aldgoats he's had delivered to him from around Drybone and that his family loved Aldgoats so much they made it their part of their family crest and prominently displayed that crest on their custom made gate. This is more than enough to find where he lives (without just going home with him- because that'll never happen in this lifetime or the next).

"Ohhh, sweet lamby, you are special. I've lost so much gambling to you tonight! My tie, my quill, my ring. Such strange things. The strangest of all- of course- being my breath when I got lost in your eyes."

Don't laugh, Malika.

I laugh. Fuck it. I'm not good at taking orders. Not even my own.

"I'm speechless!" I reply. "But I really must be going."

He expresses sorrow and distress at my exit, but is sure to drown his woes in another drink and in the eyes of another girl about to clean up on the gambled belongings I didn't take. I hope she flat out robs him.

And now here I am.

I've managed to pull myself over his surprisingly pointy and stabbity iron fence having left all skin on my body… but significantly tearing my blouse. Not great. I love this blouse. Well former blouse. Now it's more akin to All Saints Wake mummy wrappings.

I also made it past the three, indifferent aldgoats roaming the yard. Like a dog to raw steak, they seem to be distracted by the tattered fabric in the yard. Good. Eat the evidence! Love my blouse as much as I did!

I manage to sneak into the shed where he said the honey is. He's not lying. There are several dozen big jars (not vats) of the stuff. I don't have any idea which is his newest prize. That's fine. I'll take samples of all the ones closest to the door as fast as I can and spoil them with the jar of maple syrup I've brought with me. Easy!

Do you know anything about pouring out honey? I thought I did, but it turns out I failed to account for something very important. It is sticky as fuck. One jar blorped out too fast into my new container for it. I tried to stop it mid blorp but just managed to get it on my hands. Without thinking, I tried to get the honey off by wiping it on my pants. Just got honey on my hands AND pants. I was more careful with the second jar but if you are wondering if honey gives a shit how careful you are…

It doesn't! It fucking doesn't! Not a blorp this time. A slow but unstoppable and inevitable slide down the side of the jar up against the hip I was using to help steady it. Third jar the lid was so sticky I had to pull and pry with all my might and doing so… was my undoing (and the lid's). I fell backwards as the lid came loose and honey washed (more like a more significant glorp or blorp really) all over me.

For the record: this is not remotely sexy. I am in tattered clothes covered in honey...and aldgoat fur...and dust… and lint… and every fucking bit and particle of anything floating in the air because it gravitates DIRECTLY to my body.

I try crawling away like I'm in a horror play. Like I have been beaten and bloodied and the murderer is looming over me and about to go in for the kill. But the murderer is me. I did this. The blood is honey. What have I done!?

My hands shaking, I go for the maple syrup jar in my bag. Opened. Somehow it opened. The inside of my bag is as sticky as the outside. I hear a curious bleating and an aldgoat stands in the open doorway of the shed. His eyes stare into mine. He is a witness to my downfall. He waits for "sweet lamby"s explanation as he chews on a stray bit of fabric from the fence.

"Oh this?" I ask my witness, chuckling weakly and on the cusp of a total breakdown, "Yeah. So. I think we can all agree that lessons were learned tonight and this was a mistake."

#FFXIV #FFXIV RP #Writings #Prompts #Answers #Too long #But thank you for this! #It was fun #And also stupid- this is a stupid story #But what can I say? I just let my hands write what they wanted to and what they wanted to write was this nonsense #It's entertaining to watch her fail though #Thank you so much! #lettersnorth