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goldenshoyo · 3 years

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Taste like Strawberries - DILF Daichi

Warnings: Fem!Reader, age gap (Reader is 22 and Daichi is mid to late 30s), daddy kink (obv), brat taming, finger sucking, spit kink sorta, dumbification, degradation, thigh riding, oral (m. receiving), rough sex, a little praise, alcohol consumption. (as always, let me know if you want something else tagged)

Word Count: 4.9k (honestly idk how it got so long hahaha sorry)

Author’s note: This is my contribution to @kaijime's dilf collab! Make sure you go check out the masterlist and read all the wonderful works on there as well! Also, I edited this at 2am; so sorry if it is a mess.

Can you pick Mei up for me? I have to work late.

You sigh looking down at the text from your sister, this is the third time in the last few weeks she’s sprung this on you. Despite knowing there’s nothing she can do about it, it’s irritating with her husband traveling and needing to work. The one good thing is the quality time you get funny spoiling your niece after school, getting her whatever junk food she wants that your sister never lets her have.

Texting her back that you will, you go back to studying. Your final year of college has been more stressful than you expected, work always piling up with your motivation lacking. No wonder so many students take an extra year. However, you were determined to finish now and not extend your torment any longer.

Glancing at your phone you see it’s nearing pick-up time at Mei’s school. You clean up the library table, shoving your laptop and notes into your bag, and leave. The drive isn’t long, her school is close to your apartment and sister’s house so you would have needed to take this route anyways. Pulling into a free spot near the school, you leave your bags in the car going out to meet her by the school’s front gate.

“Big sis!” Your niece squeals and you look up from your phone. She’s dragging another little girl behind her, pulling her your way. “This is Kaiya! She’s my best friend. She said it's okay I use her first name, so don’t scold me like momma does! I let her call me Mei too!”

You laugh listening to her babble on about her new friend. She’s coming up on her 6th birthday, and every day she is growing more and more into her own personality. “I wouldn’t scold you like your mother. You know that,” you bend at the knees, getting at their height.

“Hi Kaiya, I’m ----. It’s nice to meet you.” You shake her little hand and she smiles.

“You’re very pretty, like Mei.” She pulls her hand away and then her lip pouts. “I wish I had a big sister.”

“I can be your big sister too if you want. Mei, you don’t mind sharing me do you?”

“Only if you promise to get me ice cream.” Her eyes and nose squint and she laughs, her mischievous face has stayed the same since she was a toddler. It’s impossible to resist.

You stand up, rubbing her head and laughing. “Fine, we can stop by a shop on the way home.”

“Sorry,” a deep male voice comes from a few feet behind you. “I had a work thing... I’m sorry I’m a little late baby.”

You watch as a tall, broad man picks up Kaiya while she giggles and wraps her arms around his neck while squealing ‘daddy’. You smile politely when he looks at you. His face is handsome, features not too sharp or round; everything about it warm and inviting. He’s still dressed in his uniform, well besides the jacket. You assume he’s a part of the police force from the pants and belt he wears matched with a dark blue shirt that clings to his form.

“I hope she wasn’t bothering you,” he says while setting her down.

“Oh of course not. She was very polite and well behaved. You’ve raised a great daughter.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thank you. I’m Sawamura Daichi, and you are?” His smile is so cute, you think. It’s not forced or out of politeness, but instead genuine happiness.

“---- -----,” you tell him and shake his hand. He squeezes it once, and your stomach turns. What was that?

“Is Mei yours?” He tilts his head, eyes going between you and your niece. “I’ve never met her mother, only your husband. Kaiya talks non-stop about Mei when she’s home with me.”

“Oh, no-no. I’m her aunt. My sister works a lot, so I pick her up from time to time.” You laugh. “I go to the local college, so it’s close by. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sawamura.” Trying to keep yourself from becoming too flustered, you look away. Watching as your niece digs through her backpack for some reason.

“Please, call me Daichi. It’s nice to-”

“Daddy, big sis is taking Mei to get ice cream!” Kaiya cuts him off. “Can we go too? Pretty please!” She kisses her father’s cheek, smiling brightly as he sets her back down. She holds tight to his hand, begging some more.

“If it’s okay with your dad, we don’t mind. Do we, Mei?”

She nods with a big smile. “Kaiya they have the BEST strawberry flavor.”

“Do you mind? I don’t want to impose on your time with Mei.” Daichi asks while still keeping an eye on the girls, who have wandered a few feet away while blabbering about ice cream flavors.

“Of course not. It’s good for young girls to spend time together.” He nods and thanks you. “There’s a spot close by. We could walk if you don’t mind.”

“Better wrangle the girls then,” he laughs, walking towards them both and getting their attention.

Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, you try and relax. It’s just ice cream for the girls… even if Kaiya’s hot dad is coming along. You’re sure he’s just trying to be nice and let his daughter have a nice time. However, it’s hard not to feel something when a man this hot and good with children is around.

The ice cream shop has a pretty outdoor area off the back of the shop, fenced in with a swing set and other children’s toys and playsets. No one else is visiting currently, so the girls have the playground to themselves, running around with ice cream dripping all over the ground when they forget they should be holding the cones up. Sitting quietly, spooning ice cream into your mouth, you try not to stare at Daichi too often.

“What are you studying?” He asks, breaking the silence that was threatening to become awkward.

“Oh, uh,” you swallow the cold cream. “Literature and classics.”

“Interesting. I bet you enjoy reading to your niece then,” he smiles at you before taking another spoonful of ice cream. You can’t help but watch his tongue dart around the spoon.

“Yeah.” You say quickly looking away. “Mei enjoys it, well, when she pays attention. Does Kaiya like stories?”

“Her mother says she always listens to her when she reads, but for me, it’s hard enough to get her to go to bed. I don’t think she’d ever stay still to let me read her a book.” He continues to talk about the weekends he gets with her, and you listen closely.

It’s stupid, you think. You shouldn’t feel this excited that he’s either divorced or at least no longer together with Kaiya’s mom. It’s selfish, but lucky in some ways. You don’t have to worry about a jealous wife coming after you because her husband paid for your ice cream.

“I’m not around for bedtime, so I can’t really relate.” You say softly and stick your tongue out lick the spoon clean. Stopping yourself from licking the ice cream off, deciding to explain more, “Mei never really stays the night anyway. She gets too worked up without her-”

The spoon is plucked from your hands and you frown looking at Daichi, who has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “What do you like to do at bedtime?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you stutter out something incoherent. Daichi’s tongue swipes up your spoon, and you watch carefully, longing to be that spoon as his tongue drags across it.

“Well?” He continues, then hands you back the spoon.

“I, uh, I don’t know.” You manage to stutter some words, even if it's not a real answer. “I uh-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t need to answer now. Let me see your phone,” he asks holding out his hand and you hurry to hand it to him. He puts in his number then hands it back to you. “I’m not free on weekends unless I get a sitter. But, I’ll see you around.”

You sit, stunned by how quickly that turned from a polite playdate for your niece to potentially a playdate with Daichi. You bring your hands to your face, trying to compose yourself before waving at both Daichi and Kaiya as they leave.

“Big sis,” your niece wines. “Wanna go home.” She pulls you from the park bench and through the shop while you continue trying to collect your thoughts.

Did you really just pull a dad? There’s no way he was serious, right?

You texted him the night after you got ice cream, but he hadn’t responded. It wasn’t until late Sunday evening he sent back a short ‘you’re welcome’ after you thanked him for the ice cream. Your face burned and your stomach twisted with every flashback to watching his tongue slide across your spoon.

It was so unnecessary.

It was so hot.

Gathering up the courage to ask when you could see him again took another day and liquid encouragement. Maybe texting him while you were drunk wasn’t the best idea, but it did make sending him photos of yourself a lot easier. The ones you got in return nearly made you drool. Joining the police force ensured he never lost his perfect physique. Every inch of him looked like it had been handcrafted by the gods themself.

Slipping your fingers into your panties and toying with your desperate clit was all too fun when he called you late that night, not caring about his early morning shift or the classes you may have. His voice breathy and deep, yours whiny and high pitched when you came around your fingers begging him to come over and fuck you.

He only laughed, telling you to wait until he had a day off.

Sitting across from him at dinner should be fun. He keeps the conversation going and you always paid attention and politely answered. However, it becomes increasingly obvious that the burning between your thighs is becoming unbearable.

“Check please,” he tells the waiter, and you nearly squeal with excitement.

“Mind if I go get some fresh air while you settle the bill?” You ask, placing your hand over his; thumb drawing circles on the back of his hand.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He smiles at you and you walk out of the door, ignoring the way his eyes make you feel as you walk out the door.

Cool evening air hits you hard. Letting out another sigh, you laugh at yourself for acting this desperate in public. He must know. It’s not like you’ve been good at hiding it. You’re worse than a cat in heat, mewling for attention and a quick fix.

“Ready?” His voice startles you and you turn to face him. You nod and he extends his hand out for you. The walk to his car is short, and you’re grateful for the dim lighting in the parking garage once you slide into the passenger seat.

Unable to can’t wait any longer, you straddle his lap in his seat and he tilts his head, looking up at you in amusement. Kissing his neck, you run your hands down his chest and slowly grind against him. His firm hands hold your hips and you whimper, trying to convince him to give your body more attention.

“Daichi,” you whine against his neck. “Please, I need-”

You’re stopped as his hand takes control of your jaw, cheeks squished in his hand while he admires you above him. His gaze is intense, not a hint of a smile or enjoyment on his face, but the bulge in his pants hints otherwise. You frown looking down on him, irritated this is the most he’s touched you all night.

“I don’t like brats.” He says simply. “Impatient ones are even more annoying. Tell me, are you going to be an annoying brat?”

You try and shake your head no, barely getting it to move from side to side in his grip.

“Good,” he releases your face and you sigh. Rubbing your cheeks with your fingers you relent from trying the aggressive approach with him; seeing now he’s much less patient than you had expected. “Now can you wait until Daddy takes you home?”

You nod, a smile brimming on your lips while your stomach turns.

“I want to hear you say it.” His eyes somehow focus on you more, making your stomach twist once more.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

The rest of the drive is silent, his hand resting on your exposed thigh a little too close to the hem for comfort. It keeps your mind buzzing, every nerve lit aflame at the slightest bump in the road or motion of his fingers. His thumb occasionally draws circles on your sensitive skin, and the whimper that always leaves your lips feels embarrassing.

Are you really a whimpering mess already?

Everything about being with Daichi made you feel more intense like your body knew just how to react to everything he does and says. Was it the age difference and excitement? Or was it simply because he knew how to touch and speak to you?

“Sweetheart?” Daichi’s voice draws your attention and you look over to him. “We’re home now. Be a good girl for me, and go unlock the door.” He dangles the keys in front of you and you take them nodding.

“Yes sir,” you slip out of the car. Did you call him sir? At the moment it felt right, but now with your face burning and palms sweating you wonder if he thinks it’s ridiculous.

You unlock the door, pushing it open and standing awkwardly waiting for him to walk up the stairs to the front door. Why is he prolonging this? There was no reason for him to stay behind. Turning your head to look where he parked the car, you see he’s talking to a neighbor, laughing, and paying you no mind.

What’s his game here?

You huff, frustrated, and embarrassed with how desperate you’ve been acting and he seems to not have a care in the world. Stepping inside, you close the door and take your shoes off. He doesn’t mind you having access to his house with you unsupervised. After all, he did give you the keys to unlock the door.

His home looks comfortable and lived in, not overly clean but not messy per se. You sit on the couch, crossing your legs and laying your head back. While you know it’s rude to begin feeling this irritated, if something didn’t happen soon you were going to have to call for a ride and get home to a toy or even indulge in one of the sleazy dating apps you’re all too familiar with.

Pulling out your phone, you respond to a few notifications you garnered over dinner, nothing of real substance, but better than sitting in silence. A few friends have invited you to a bar not too far from your location, and you consider it, but the front door opening grabs your attention.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart.” He smiles at you and you lay your phone down on the cushion beside you, feeling like you’ve been caught texting in class. “I see you made yourself at home.”

“Oh, I-” you stand up, even more embarrassed.

Does he take pleasure in making you uncomfortable or are you just too on edge?

“Sit back down,” he laughs walking into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

“No thank you,” you answer quickly, sitting back down and laying your hands in your lap to fiddle with your fingers.

He comes back into the living room with his shirt unbuttoned a few, his chest peeking out, and a beer in his left hand. Sitting on the recliner adjacent to the couch, he motions for you with his pointer finger then pats his lap. Your body moves without thinking, straddling him with your knees sinking into the soft cushion of the recliner on either side of his hips. He grins watching your dress ride up your thighs before he takes a drink from his beer.

“Why are you acting so shy now? What happened to that confident little attitude?” He sets the beer down on the table between the couch and chair.

“Why are you toying with me?” You ask, furrowing your brow and tilting your head. “Just fuck me already.”

“There it is,” he chuckles. “You’re not as good of a girl as you think. You’re nothing more than a spoiled brat who needs put in her place. Lucky for you, I know just how to handle bratty girls like you.”

His thumb pulls on your bottom lip and you part them, letting his middle and index finger slip in and press against your tongue. You moan at first, grinding your cunt against his thigh before his fingers slip further in and make you gag. Closing your eyes you grind on him harder, the gagging only intensifying and your body lighting on fire.

“Pathetic,” he laughs while resting his cheek against his hand. Opening your eyes more you see he looks unamused, even as he shoves his fingers down your throat more. “Moaning like this over what? I’m barely touching you.”

You moan again, pressing your core harder on his thigh and whining. Your fingers dig into the arm of the recliner, steadying yourself while you ride his thigh. It feels too good to stop, the minute amount of pleasure intensified by Daichi’s fingers in your mouth.

“Maybe I was wrong,” his voice making you whine again. “Maybe you’re not a brat, just a dumb little slut desperate to cum.” Removing his fingers from your mouth, you take deep breaths, coughing and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“P-please,” you beg. “Please fuck me, daddy. Wanna feel you in me. I’ll be good, I swear.” You sound desperate, you know it and so does he.

“Do you think you deserve it?” He rubs the spit from his fingers onto your cheek while holding your jaw. He shakes your head back and forth slowly as a no for you. “That’s right. You don’t deserve daddy’s cock.”

“B-but-” you whine and grind against him. “Please!”

“Hmm,” he hums, releasing your jaw and licking his fingers clean before taking another sip from his beer. “Maybe if you earn it. I’m not in the mood to fuck an ungrateful whore.”

“Anything!” You nearly shout, eager to please him.

How you’re feeling is different than usual, the need to do whatever Daichi wants completely takes over your own desires. While the feeling is new, it’s something you want to continue to chase. Your head feeling lighter and body burning is all too good to give up now.

“Do I need to tell you what to do?” You nod. “Of course,” he chuckles, “silly of me to forget you’re nothing but a dumb brat. Get on your knees in front of me. Put that mouth to good use for once, won’t ya?”

“Yes daddy,” you say quietly, sliding onto the floor and tugging at his pants.

His belt is a struggle, and he makes no attempt to help you until you’re sliding his pants and boxers off and he lifts his body up just enough to get them down his thighs. Gripping his cock, your mind races wondering if you’ll even be able to fit his girth in your mouth as your fingers barely manage to wrap around him.

“If I finish this beer before you make me cum, I might not fuck you at all.” He says tapping your forehead with the cold glass bottle. “Do you understand?”

You nod again and he leans back into the recliner. Precum leaks from the tip and you wipe it up with your tongue, enjoying the taste as it floods your senses. As your tongue swirls around the head and your warm mouth takes him in, he moans.

It’s quiet and short-lived, but enough to encourage you to take more of him. He fills your mouth so quickly, but you’re determined to make him cum; unsure if it's because you’re desperate to be fucked or if you just really want to please him. Either way, you’re going to have him cumming in your mouth in minutes, you know you can.

You gag loudly when you force him into your throat, nearly taking him to the hilt. This time his moan is louder and longer, making you buzz with pride. Managing to keep him deep in your mouth you rub his balls with your shaky fingers while setting a steady pace bobbing your head up and down.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I guess that mouth is useful for something…” another moan breaks his last word but you don’t care.

The condescending praise just enough to make you hum against him with glee. He bucks his hips when you do, his fingers tangling in your hair and forcing you to choke on him again. You claw at his thighs, desperate to come up for air while you fight against him. He releases the tight hold and you take him out coughing as you stroke him with your hand.

You watch with a frown while he drinks on his beer again, watching carefully as the faint line of liquid lowers nearing the bottom of the bottle. You can do this, you tell yourself before taking a deep breath and taking him back in your mouth. Humming against him lightly while massaging his balls in your palm earns the same reaction, except you’re better at keeping a steady pace now.

“Shit,” he groans.

His cock twitches against your tongue and warm spurts of cum coat your mouth before you can swallow fast enough. He pulls you off his cock by your hair.

“Tongue,” he says and you stick it out timidly.

He spits on your tongue before pulling you to his face and kissing you, his tongue invading your mouth and making you gag at the taste of his beer. His kiss takes your breath away, literally struggling for air as he continues. You’re coughing and pulling away from him while a mix of spit and cum runs down your chin.

“I didn’t think you could do it,” he admits. “I’m surprised someone as desperate and stupid as you could make me cum that fast. I suppose I should reward you then, hmm?”

“Please daddy, please,” you beg. “Want your cock in me so bad.”

His hand slips under your dress and rubs against your soaking panties. “You really do want me, don't you baby?”

You nod.

His free hand gropes your breast, pinching your nipple through the thin material of your dress. You close your eyes biting your lip as you enjoy the not so soft touches he gives you. You moan when his fingers slip into your panties, sliding against your puffy clit.

“Daddy!” You squeal when his middle finger slides inside of you and curls. “Fuck, more please.”

He laughs, pulling his finger out and standing up. He sheds his clothes while you remain on your knees in front of him. You can’t help but admire how good he looks above you like this. Honestly, you think you’d do anything to remain in this moment even if the anticipation of him splitting you open is forcing you to clench around nothing.

Daichi offers you his hand and he assists you in standing to your feet, but it doesn’t last long. He bends you over the arm of his recliner in seconds, pulling your dress down and allowing your bare breasts to fall from it.

“Tell daddy what you want,” he teases while rubbing his cock between your folds.

“Want your cock!” You turn your head back to look at him. “Please, I need it.”

“Good fucking girl,” he groans while sliding inside of you.

Even with your intense arousal and the spit on his cock, it stings. Your body goes limp against the arm of the recliner as you try and relax your body to let him in. Crying into the cushion, you try to not be too loud while getting used to his size.

“If I’d known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” he says after fully sheathing himself inside of you.

He isn’t nice enough to give you more time, too overwhelmed with the way you squeeze him so nicely to not start thrusting immediately. You cry out when his cockhead hits deep inside of you, pulling against your walls as he pulls back out only to do it all over again.

It hurts. It feels ethereal.

“Daddy!” You whine as his fingers twirl your nipple between them and he holds you back against him while relentlessly pounding into you. “Too much!”

“Be a good girl,” he hisses. “I know you can take it.”

You whimper in response, his thrusts forcing your breasts into his hands while he continues to assault them. Your thighs begin to shake and your core feels like it’s a tightwire about to break.

“Wanna cum!” You tell him, some part of you knows it's better to warn him or ask instead of letting yourself go. “Please, daddy! Let me cum.”

“Aw, my little slut is learning,” he chuckles, thrusting deep into you and letting you fall back onto the recliner. “Go ahead, cum for daddy. Cream all over my cock sweetheart.”

He hits the sweet spot inside of you once more and you come undone, cumming around his cock and crying out a mixture of daddy and curses. He grunts as you clench around him, body pliable for him to hold you closer while rapidly fucking you.

He cums, and you feel it drip out of you around his cock before you comprehend what’s happened. You’re too fucked out to even care if you’re honest. He pulls your panties back to the side as he pulls out of you.

“You’re going to keep it all in, aren’t you?” He pulls his pants back on, leaving his shirt on the floor and sitting on the couch.

You nod, pulling your dress back over your breasts and adjusting the thin straps back to a comfortable position on your shoulders. He pats his lap again, and you sit across him, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek against his shoulder.

A knock at the door startles you and you look at Daichi with a concerned face.

“Oh,” he laughs. “I lost track of time. Can you get that?”

You sheepishly nod. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I need to go grab something from my room. I’m sure you can handle it.” He disappears down the hall.

Running your hands through your hair to make sure you don’t look crazy, you open the door.

“Oh,” a sharp tone greets you.

“Big sis!!” Kaiya screams, jumping up and down and running inside.

Shit.

“Uh,” who you assume to be her mother says shaking her head. “Is Daichi here?” She’s irritated, and reasonably so. “I need to speak with him immediately.”

“Yeah, he’s right-”

“What do you want?” He appears back into the living room, pulling a loose shirt over his head as he comes in.

He easily could have done that before. Is he doing this on purpose?

Oh god, he is.

You look quickly between the two of them as he steps in the doorway with you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“I think we need to speak in private.” His ex tells him, eyeing you up and down.

“Sweetheart, do you care to take Kaiya to her room to play for a few minutes?” He kisses your forehead and you look away from the intense glare you receive from Kaiya’s mother.

“Daichi! Why are you-”

“Stop,” he says loudly. “---- can watch her for a moment.” He lets go of you.

“Can you show me your room Kaiya?” You ask sweetly and she takes your hand and guides you down the hall.

You’re not sure if you’re grateful Daichi got you away from his ex or if you’re happy Kaiya won’t have to see her parents bicker. Either way, it’s a win for you. Your heart is beating against your chest, making you nauseous. There’s no way he just forgot he was getting his daughter tonight.

You’re flattered that he used you to make her angry, but the more spiteful part of you wishes he had let you in on it a little more. Having you answer the door was good, but you could have left your hair a mess or something more…

“Big sis, why are you here? Did you and daddy have a playdate?” She asks, handing you a stuffed rabbit while you sit on the floor of her room with her.

“Uh,” you giggle. “Yeah, we had a playdate.”

#dilf collab!!#daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi smut #daichi smut #dilf daichi #daddy daichi #hq smut #haikyu smut #haikyuu smut

4K notes · View notes

fandomout · 3 years

Note

heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

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darylsgirl · 3 years

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The Farmers Daughter Daryl Dixon Smut 18+

Request: Hey i really love all your stories. Could you do one where, the reader is Hershel's daughter and she has just turned 21 and she has a massive crush on Daryl. She is tired of being babied by the entire family ( they won't let her out of prison gates cause she's young) so she asks to go on a run with Daryl as her 21st bday gift. On the run she kinda seduces him and smut ensues.

Also she has kinda tried to seduce him at the prison before too (just subtle hints)

Please please take my request 🥺🥺🥺

Hey guys! Here’s my first ever story written for a request! Hope you liked the way it turned out Anon! And i hope your all having a lovely day <3

Love Jen x

Masterlist

You had to admit it was a beautiful day. Looking out across the prison yard, If you ignored the walkers groaning at the fences and well... the whole end of the world thing it might have been a perfect day. Everyone was feeling safe and relaxed for the first time in a long time and enjoying the day as you would have before the end.

Approaching your dad seeing the relaxed look on his face, You’d thought this would be the perfect opportunity to ask him to let you go out on a run, You were the middle green daughter and he didn’t let you forget it. It was so unfair! He always let Maggie and Beth do whatever they wanted but kept you close by at all times wanting to teach you all he could about medicine, Treating you like nothing more than a baby even though you had just turned 21.

As always when you asked to go with Daryl his face turned to stone. “You know my feelings on this Y/N, Your much too young, Everyone has a job to do and yours is here”

“Dad please! I’ve been training, I can take care of myself. You let Beth go! She’s younger than me! Stop treating me like a child”

“Y/N that’s enough, I said no”

Knowing you wouldn’t get anything further out of him you stormed off it probably didn’t help things that you were maybe acting like a bit of a child right now. But you couldn’t help it, you were so mad! He had to know you were no longer a child. Most middle children get ignored but not you, He was more strict when it came to you, Babied you constantly. Even before the end Maggie and Beth loved it of course it meant they got away with more because he was always so focused on you.

Part of you understood why. There had been a nasty incident a few years back with a boy from school which ended in your dad having to pull a shot gun at him to get him to stay away from you. Smiling you remembered the prick’s probably dead now, You’d definitely gotten the last laugh!

Ever since then Hershel had been extremely protective of you, He’d let you attend self defence classes and even taught you to shoot, Which is why it was so mind boggling that he wouldn’t let you do your part. You felt useless just sitting around all day reading old medical books and occasionally helping fix someone up.

You wanted more than anything to be out there, Pulling your weight helping feed this family! You needed to be out there….With him.

When Daryl had appeared on your family’s farm that day on his motorbike, Your knees almost went weak. That was a man, He was sheer perfection. Unfortunately for you he was a bit of a standoffish man.

You tried for weeks to get his attention shyly moving closer to him whenever he was around, Whenever he even looked at you he caused the blush to rise in your cheeks.

When he had fallen onto his arrow you were there mopping his brow as he slept. Sadly when he woke he only gave you a grunt of acknowledgement. But still it was more than he had before.

Still you persisted, He had started warming up to you more since the trip to the prison. You were the one to make sure he ate and cleaned him up every time he managed to get another wound. It was slow going but before you knew it muttered thanks had turned into longer sentences from him.

He still wasn’t much of a talker but at least he noticed you now. Not in the way you wanted him to but it was better than nothing.

You raised your hand in welcome to him as you saw him making his way across the yard to you.

“Hershel say no?” He asked when he came and took a seat with you on the grass.

Nodding you sighed, pulling your knees to your ample chest. Nudging you slightly “Ya don’t wanna be out there anyway, Get’s too dangerous”

Rolling your eyes “Oh please not you too? How many times do i have to say i can handle myself! I just need a few hours out of here!”

An idea coming to your head you turned to him putting your hand on his shoulder, He froze slightly at this as he seemed to every time anyone touched him. Deciding to ignore it you turned his torso slightly to face yours.

“You could convince him! You said yesterday there was a pharmacy not too far from here that looked untouched!”

Shaking his head at you “No Y/N I ain’t goin against Hershel, He’s a good man”

“Please Daryl, You could consider it a birthday gift to me? And i could be useful! I know what medicines to look out for”

“Who said i was gonna get ya anything?” He grumbled. Moving closer to him and putting your hand on his chest.

“Please Daryl, He’ll listen to you” You purred hoping it came across sultry.

His eyes met yours very briefly, His eyes wide when he saw how close you were. Standing to his feet suddenly “Alright fine, If it’ll get ya to quit harpin on”

He turned leaving you on the grass before stalking off towards your dad. You waited there for what felt like forever watching the corner he had disappeared behind.

When he finally reappeared you got to your feet meeting him halfway.

“Well?” He gave you a short nod of confirmation. Jumping up at him excitedly you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you!!” He froze in place again before relaxing into your hug.

Patting your shoulder once “Go on then, Get ya stuff we leave in 10” As you pulled away you saw a slight smile on his lips before running back to the Cells to grab a bag. Packing two bottles of water and some protein bars leaving the rest empty to carry anything you might find. Slinging it over your shoulder before strapping your pistol to one side of your belt and your knife on the other.

Running back out you saw your dad waiting by the step. You almost knocked him off his crutches hugging him tightly

“Thank you Daddy”

He hugged you back “You be safe Y/N Listen to everything Daryl tells you!” Pulling away from him you nodded gratefully.

“Ready to go?” Smiling you turned and started to walk away. Hearing your dad call “Take care of my little girl Dixon!” Daryl just raised an arm in response before leading you over to the bike.

Swinging his leg over her motioned for you to do the same. Smiling happily you jumped on the back wrapping your arms firmly around his chest, Your fingers desperately wanting to touch all of him.

“Ya don’t need to hold on so tight!” He grumbled at you. “Oh sorry!” You moved your hands slowly from his chest favouring every second until they were resting gently on his waist. As he pulled out of the main gate you put your chin on his shoulder grinning.

He hid the bike a few blocks away from the pharmacy before continuing on foot. On the way you only encountered one walker. Putting your hand on his arm as he raised his crossbow.

“Let me do it” He nodded to you, letting you charge ahead with your knife drawn. Easily taking the walker down, Swiping the walkers feet from under it you plunged your knife into his head before turning back to Daryl “See i can take care of myself”

Handing you a rag from his belt you cleaned the blood off your knife before handing it back to him.

“Never said you couldn’t Y/N” he said before continuing on to the pharmacy. As you reached the shutters Daryl Raised one slightly looking underneath before knocking on the shutter a few times making a racket.

“Daryl! What are you doing” You whispered urgently.

He put his finger to his mouth while he listened for a moment before pulling the shutter fully open stepping behind it motioning for you to follow. Stepping in you noticed the door to the pharmacy was still closed and your bodies were pressed tightly together.

Your breath was stuck in your chest, Your heart pounding as you felt his body on yours. He looked at you confused for a moment before moving his arms around you to the open shutter. Pulling it back down again, You felt as the muscles in his arms rolled down your entire body pulling the shutter. His head was at your crotch when you let in a sharp intake of breath as his head brushed you core.

He darted upwards to you again “You ok Y/N? We can go back if ya scared”

His words snapping you out of it, You felt the blush rise in your face “m’not scared”

You were dying for him to kiss you, As you looked up you saw his lips were only inches from yours, Surely he had to feel this too? You closed your eyes inching closer till your lips were just about touching. You could feel his hot breath cascading over your lips. The world paused for a second while you waited to see if he would close the gap.

Clearing his throat “Looks empty, Let’s go in” You opened your eyes as you heard the tinkle of the bell signalling the door had been opened. And just as quick as the moment had come it was gone.

You stood frozen at the door for a moment trying to gather your thoughts. Could he really not see what just being in close proximity to him did to her?

You walked after him further into the pharmacy jumping behind the desk “Jackpot! This place is completely untouched!”

“Grab what we need, We’ll come back for the rest with more people”

You filled your bag as Daryl went around the aisles picking up other essentials.

You closed the pharmacy back up adding a lock to the shutter as you left, Hopefully no one else would stumble across it before you had a chance to come back.

Daryl agreed when you asked to walk back through the woods. It was far too hot to go all that way in the sun. It was still hot under the trees but at least you were being protected from the sun, Daryl stopped and waited for you as you dropped your bag pulling off the loose over shirt your father always made you wear.

You saw his eyes wander over you as it came over your head showing your curves to him for the first time in your tight white vest.

His eyes were dark, You couldn’t tell if he was angry with you or if it was something else.

Looking away from him now “Sorry, I just need some air….Wait what’s that?” He darted forward pushing his body in front of you looking for danger.

Rolling your eyes you stepped around him picking up the bag and heading to the cabin you had seen. Stopping in the doorway you copied Daryl’s previous actions knocking on the doorway.

All of a sudden his arms were around you lifting you from the ground pulling you inside the cabin, Closing the door behind you both his hand was over your mouth, His mouth to your ear “Shh, There’s a herd bout 50, Don’t think they saw us”

As he put you gently back down you both made your way further into the cabin to check for threats, After searching the bedroom he pulled you inside before blocking the door with the set of drawers.

He made his way to the bed before lying down “might as well make ourselves comfortable gonna be here awhile” You sat on the bed not facing him for a moment before taking a deep breath and lying down on the bed.

You saw him looking at your chest before he sat back up “Almost forgot” He grabbed his bag. “Happy birthday 21 right?”

Pulling out a bottle of whiskey and handing it to you. You looked at it nervously taking a deep breath and just going for it. You ripped the cork out taking a deep swig, Dropping the bottle back down you scrunched your nose a little in disgust

“What girl ya never had whiskey?”

“Never had any alcohol, Dad never let us with him being in recovery and all” You shrugged taking another pull on the bottle.

He snatched it from your hands then “Didn’ no it were your first. Ya can’t drink it like water, Gotta take it slow”

You chuckled slightly at his words laying back down on the bed with him following you.

“What’s so funny kid?”

“Don’t call me that” You said as your eyes narrowed.

He looked at you amused “It’s what ya are”

Lurching forward you pressed your lips to his, feeling him freeze under you, You held your lips there urgently, Pulling your hands to his face and pulling it to yours. You pulled away slightly when he didn’t return the kiss.

“I aint a kid, I saw the way you looked at me earlier. I know you know that too” You said breathlessly.

Looking down at your lips he replied “Ya still Hershel’s Kid he wouldn’ like this” He ran his hand through his hair.

Feeling angry again Your hands were still on his face “Does it look like i care what he thinks? Right now Daryl all I care about is this. Feeling you against me. I need it. I’ve needed it since the moment i saw you”

His eyes darted up to yours seeing only the truth in your eyes. “Kiss me Dixon”

His tongue licked his bottom lip slightly. Pushing your lips back to his you took his bottom lip in your mouth tugging on it slightly with your teeth.

You heard the low growl coming from his chest as you tugged harder.

“Fuck it” He muttered against your lips before flipping you onto your back kissing you back harshly.

You let a moan escape your lips as he settled over you arching into his chest, He nudged your knees apart before putting one hand behind your thigh and lifting it around his hips. The other hand was on your waist. Both hands kneading your skin harshly.

His hands felt like they were burning through your clothes. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, Moaning again you ground your hips upwards desperate to feel his heat against yours.

He pulled away panting resting his forehead against yours.

“You sure Y/N” Grinning at him you pulled your hands to the neck of your shirt ripping it open slightly.

“Never been so sure Daryl” His eyes watched growing darker, pulling his hands to the rip you had started already he ripped the shirt from you with ease, hands going to the front of your bra tearing that too.

You could feel his breath on your chest as he ducked down taking one of your nipples into your mouth and biting down on it. You moaned louder now reaching down, you pushed the vest from his shoulder before turning your attention to his shirt groaning as you realised you couldn’t reach the hem to pull it up.

He chuckled watching you sitting up over you he pulled the shirt off himself. Glaring down at you now with his dark hungry eyes. Moving from you he stood next to the bed.

“Take em off...Now” His thick southern drawl made your already wet panties soak.

Your hand slowly went to the button on your jeans not wanting to take your eyes off him, His glare grew darker.

“Ya aint fast enough” He lunged over you gripping the pants at your sides and tearing them down, You gasped now realising you were fully bare for him, His eyes met yours as you looked towards his pants, Your thighs rubbing together in delicious anticipation.

He untied the cord of material holding his pants up letting them drop to the ground.

Licking your lips you stared at his huge length. Walking over to you he pressed his cock to your lips gently.

“This what you want?”

“Mmm yes please Daryl” You stuck your tongue out tasting the tip of him, God he tasted good. You opened your lips intending to wrap them around him, When you felt a hand in your hair pulling your head back.

“Say ya want my cock Y/N in that dirty little mouth” Looking at his eyes now you could see he was serious.

Pushing him back from the bed you climbed off sinking to your knees in front of him.

“Mmmm let me have your cock in my dirty….little….Mouth…..Please?” You breathed

His fingers caressed your face for a moment He murmured “Better Y/N….Go on take what ya want girl”

Reaching your hands up to his length you held it gleefully smiling as you brought it back to your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the tip you let your eyes fix on his again as you sunk him deep into your mouth, As it hit your throat you let it choke you slightly moaning around his length.

“Shit Y/N” Daryl let his mouth drop open and his head hang backwards enjoying your lips around him, Putting his hands back in your hair he pushed you fully down his length until your lips met his pubic bone, You choked again, Breathing through your nose you held yourself on him getting used to the feeling of him stretching your throat.

Moaning on him again he pushed and pulled you over his cock until you felt it throbbing, Pulling you fully off him he looked back down at you wildly.

“Shit, Ya too good at that. I almost -” You cut him off pulling him back into your mouth with determination bobbing faster over him until he fell over the edge spilling his huge load into your mouth. You heard him cry out your name whilst he fucked your face harder letting the last of his orgasm roll out.

Once he slowed you pulled him from your mouth swallowing before licking every inch of him clean drinking every drop like it was life or death.

He wrapped one hand around your throat now pulling you back up to him.

“Get back on the bed, Knees up legs wide. Now” He growled.

Still catching your breath you did as you were told. He kneeled on the bed between your legs rubbing his still hard cock up and down your folds. Grinning at you mischievously he pulled completely away, Watching you squirm from the lack of contact.

Leaning over your body he whispered in your ear

“Ya aint ready for that...Not yet anyway” He roughly pushed your chin upwards pushing your head back into the pillow.

Kissing his way down your neck he moved to your chest, Lifting your breast he sucked just underneath your nipple hard enough to leave his mark, Moving down your sternum he left three more identical marks from your breasts to your belly button. Marking you as his. As he reached your dripping heat you tried to grind up towards him.

Using his hand over your hips he held you down,

“Ya gotta wait Y/N You’ll get it when im fucking ready” He growled again before sinking his teeth into the inside of your thigh, You let out a loud mewl trying to stem the noise biting down on your forearm.

He bit harder now before letting go and glaring up at you, “Dont ya dare stop it, I wanna hear ya”

Panting for breath you looked down at him “But the …...Mmm shit...The walkers..will hear us!”

“Let them fuckin hear, I’ll kill everyone of those dead bastards if they try to get between me and this sweet pussy” He ran one finger softly down your folds to accentuate his point.

Moving your hand back down onto the bed you gripped the sheets with both hands as he sucked and bit the inside of both of your thighs leaving multiple love bites.

“Please Daryl! I can...ntt take it anymore”

Seeing the need in your eyes he harshly took your clit in his mouth sucking and nibbling on it before moving his tongue down to your entrance, He lapped at the juices flowing out of you for a minute before replacing his tongue with his fingers, Pushing two inside he rocked them in and out of you bringing his lips back to your throbbing clit.

“God Y/N you taste so fucking good” You could feel the pleasure building higher and your moans getting louder as you were rapidly reaching your high. You could feel your walls clenching on his fingers as he started moving quicker.

“Ahhh, Shit Daryl” You screamed letting your high crash around you, You could feel him moaning into your clit as you screamed his name. Pushing another finger into you as you rode them blissfully feeling him stretch them inside you before pulling them out, Leaning back over you he pressed his fingers to your mouth.

“Clean em” You sucked on them happily feeling the slickness in your pussy coming back as it did every time you saw him.

Once he had deemed them clean enough he dropped his hand back to you.

“Mmm ready for me again so soon?” You bit your lip gazing up at him with your best innocent face.

“So ready baby, Please...Please fuck me Daryl”

“Ya only needed to ask Y/N” He quickly pumped his cock a few times before pushing it slowly into you, Gasping a little in pain he stopped. “You ok?”

“Yeah….Its just so fucking big” He grinned as he continued pushing into you until he reached his hilt grunting as he felt your walls moulding around him. Staying still for a moment he let you get used to his length. Pressing his lips back down to yours he tugged at your lower lip with his teeth parting your lips before diving back in with his tongue.

Your tongues danced together fighting for dominance, He moaned into your mouth as he started moving again slowly at first building his speed until he was pounding mercilessly into you.

Rolling back till he was sat back on his legs he pulled your legs over his shoulders gripping them tightly using them to drive himself even deeper and harder into you. Your hands wound your way into your own hair pulling at it gently letting the pleasure of his relentless pounding completely take control of your senses as you feel yourself letting go to him again.

You back arched high as you felt your high building.

Daryl let one hand fall to your aching clit rolling it with his fingers.

“That’s it Y/N cum for me, Cum all over this cock” He growled loudly. You felt him pulsing inside you and it sent you straight over the edge.

“Fuckkkkk Daryl!!” You screamed bucking your hips against him as you rode out your high.

Daryl couldn’t take it anymore watching you buck wildly against him screaming his name, He exploded thrusting deeper into you letting his hot cum wash over your walls.

He let go of your legs letting them crash to the sides of him, Your entire body was trembling now as he collapsed forward on top of you, Both gasping for air.

When he rolled off you, You looked him straight in the eyes “Told you i could be useful” You giggled.

“I think we may need to convince ya dad to let you on more of these runs Y/N. Very fucking useful” he said pushing his lips back to yours for a sweet kiss this time.

Putting his arm around your shoulders he pulled you to him letting your head lay on his chest. You could definitely get used to this.

You sighed before continuing in awe “Happy fucking birthday to me”

He chuckled kissing your hair. You lay happily in his arms until the sun started to go down, Only breaking the happy stillness to let your lips meet lovingly.

Looking out the window he murmured “C’mon best be getting back. Dont need em sendin out a search party and findin us like this”

Groaning you let him pull you up, Both getting dressed. Daryl picked up your ruined shirt and bra stuffing them into his own bag with a wink, Thank god you had worn two shirts today. Daryl then pulled the draws away from the door running through the cabin to check it was still secure. You followed him out of the cabin and back to the bike.

Happily putting your arms around him and running your fingers across his chest, Enjoying the last moments of your freedom as he drove you back to the prison and through the gates.

You sisters came running to meet you as you returned checking you over before giving you hugs in turn, Maggie took a step back staring into your eyes for a moment before leaning back into you whispering so only you two could hear

“I see you got your birthday wish lil sis” Your eyes went wide in panic, Grinning at you she whispered again. “I know the scent of cum when I smell it. It’s all over your breath, That and you're definitely no longer wearing a bra”

You flushed embarrassed hoping no one else would notice looking back at her with a panicked whisper “Don’t tell Daddy!” She nodded at you looking behind you to the guard tower “Looks like it's time for round two” She nodded towards Daryl who was standing there staring at you drinking you in with his eyes again.

“Don’t worry ill cover for you, Just go” She winked. Running over to the tower you slipped in closing the door as you felt his hand at your throat again.

“Ya all mine now Y/N”

“So you don’t think I’m a kid anymore” You asked playfully.

“Nah, Your definitely all fucking woman” He growled back before pulling you back into a room and fucking you till you were mewling all over again for him.

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Masterlist

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fandom #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fandom #norman reedus smut #norman reedus #norman reedus fandom #daryl dixon fan fic #hotsmut #smut fanfiction

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fairyoftbz · 3 years

Text

serre-moi fort | j. changmin

🐈 pairing: bf!changmin x fem! reader 🐈 word count: 2.2k 🐈 genre: fluff, domestic!au 🐈 tw: none, maybe the overuse of nicknames (?) 🐈 synopsis: while changmin goes out for a run, you decide to do some self-care and unfold the hammock dusting on the side of your house. 🐈 a/n: part 4/14 of my french project!! with my baby boi changmin!! i am sorry if i still haven’t written your request or i take too long to finish it, but the inspo hasn’t been really present 🤕🥺 i’ll make sure to write more!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

A yawn escaped from your mouth as you blocked the light out of your eyes with your elbow, feeling extra sleepy as your alarm clock hadn’t rung off yet. What a great mistake you did by accepting your boyfriend’s idea of starting to wake up early, you should have refused last night. You groaned as the annoying sound of an alarm finally rang, blindly searching for your phone on the bedside table. Changmin stirred on his side of the bed, turning to the side in great search of your body. Once he found it, he let out a sigh and kept his eyes closed, warm mouth resting against your exposed shoulder. Your hand settled on his forearm wrapped around your middle and you pecked his cheekbone, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the quietness of the morning for a while.

Changmin sat up after a few minutes, head heavily following the rest of his body. He stared at you still lying on your side, his hand gently rubbing your knee and he offered you a gentle smile when you opened your eyes to look at him. You mimicked him as he stood up, yawning as his hand rubbed his abs while making his way towards the kitchen. You deeply sighed as the birds started chirping, helping you slowly and start the day tranquilly.

Once you stood up, you went and opened the windows, letting the pale light and the fresh morning air from outside invading your room. The sky was still gloomy as it had just stopped pouring, the light fog due to the rain lingering around your neighbourhood, progressively disappearing as it rose in the sky. You wrapped your cardigan around your shoulders and joined your boyfriend in the kitchen, a hand gently stroking the back of his head, playing with the spiky, shorter hair. Changmin smiled at your display of affection and turned around to kiss you on the cheek.

“Are you eating this before going for a run?” you asked as you observed him spreading butter and honey on two toasts, only to find him shaking his head with a smile. “I was planning on bringing the toasts to my baby back in bed, but it seems like it’s too late,” he said, and your face fell, making your boyfriend giggle. “Oh, I didn’t know, Changmin. We’re so rarely together, I didn’t want to miss an opportunity of being with you,” you said, and he giggled, circling his arm around your shoulders. “It’s okay, Y/N. Let’s have breakfast together now that you are up,” he suggested and you nodded, kissing him on the lips as he handed you the plate he prepared for you.

Changmin sat across from you, a banana and a protein shake in front of him. He never liked eating a lot before going on a run, he hated working out feeling nauseous or having a heavy stomach, hence the super light breakfast. You, on the other hand, had worked out yesterday, and since you only did it every other day, it was your rest day today. Changmin only had the weekend to go for a run since his work was keeping him extremely busy. Living this kind of life wasn’t the best when it came to personal life, but he was passionate about his job, so it was natural for him to make sacrifices.

“I’m going, babe. I’ll be back in over an hour,” he said while standing up, winking at you as he placed everything in the dishwasher before disappearing back in your shared bedroom.

He appeared a few minutes later, all clad in black gym equipment with a rain jacket from his favourite football (soccer) team. He walked up to you, the plastic of his shoes squeaking on the tiled floor and kissed your forehead as you were drinking the rest of your orange juice.

“Have fun and be careful!” you said as he walked out the door, waving at you from the kitchen window as he walked past it.

Weekends weren't only meant for fitness activities, it also meant self-care for you. So, after brushing your teeth and changing into your home clothes, you decided to grab a book and go read outside. The temperature was quite chilly since it was still quite early, but the cold couldn’t reach your body as you were wrapped into Changmin’s long black hoodie. You walked across the living room and opened the sliding glass door, shutting it behind you as you put down your book on the wooden table.

Walking to the side of the house, you found the hammock you had decided to randomly buy while browsing the web, and it was one of the best purchases you did for your house after the pillow made for taking baths. You unfolded it and cosied it up a bit by adding some pillows and two extra blankets, comfortably lying in it after taking your book from the table.

You had forgotten how fascinating this book was, getting back into the story as soon as you read the last sentence of the previous chapter. Not even noticing your surroundings, the neighbour’s cat casually yet carefully walked across your small garden and meowed before disappearing under the fence, but you didn’t hear it. Your hand dangling outside the hammock, grabbing some petals of the flowers planted under you and playing with them between your fingers, carefully reading the story as you were close to finishing the book you had started a few weeks ago.

Slamming the book shut after reading the last sentence, you sighed and wiped the tear that threatened to fall from your eye and rested the book on the floor. Crossing your arms on your chest, you observed the light blue sky before sinking deeper into the hammock, the wind acting as a gentle caress as it blew on your face. Resting a foot on the floor, you gave a quick swing to the hammock before replacing your limb under the blankets, feeling it move side to side as you closed your eyes. The slow shift rocking you like a baby in their mother’s arms, and you fell back asleep right here, face tucked into your boyfriend’s hood over your head.

The neighbour’s cat came back a few minutes later and gently licked your hand dangling off the hammock, careful of not waking you up. It sat near the glass window, its whines stopping as you weren’t responding, too deep into Morpheus’ arms to come back to reality.

The three-coloured creature ran off as soon as the front door shut close, Changmin heavily breathing as he had just stopped his sports watch. Looking around the house, he wiped the sweat pearling off his forehead with his sleeve as he called your name, a smile forming on his lips as he saw you on the patio.

Just like you did an hour and a half ago, he slid the glass door open and closed it without making a noise, gently talking to the cat as it came to him, tail raising in the air while walking towards the sweaty man. Approaching you with the cat on his heels, he admired your sleepy face as your fist was resting against your cheek, pushing up the skin under your eye in a cute way. He brought the blanket further up to your chin and delicately kissed your forehead, the action making you shift.

“I’m home, sweetheart. I’m gonna take a shower and I’m yours, okay?” he whispered, and you lightly shifted in your sleep, repositioning yourself in the hammock.

Changmin gently pushed it to make it rock slowly, earning a muffled groan of happiness from your mouth. He beamed at your behaviour and told the cat to stay outside as it tried to come in with him, the animal letting out a frustrated noise but sat in the grass anyway.

Once your boyfriend reappeared from his shower, you were still comfortably tucked inside your new bed. With the towel around his shoulders, he was quick to toss it in the laundry bin and pull out the hairdryer. The muffled sound didn’t even make you move, the cat staring at your boyfriend as he quickly dried his hair in the living room. It had come closer just the time he went back to the bathroom to put the dryer away, stifling a laugh as the cat’s position. It was calmly sat on the patio, its wide, green eyes staring up at you as you slept.

Changmin chuckled at the innocence of the scene in front of him, the kitty suddenly looking away from you as he opened the window door. It only moved when he neared you, pacing under the fence like there was no tomorrow. He shook his head at the cat’s silliness and threw a glance at your sleeping figure, trying to think of a way to join you without waking you up.

You felt a presence near you as an arm delicately lifted your shoulders and upper back, careful movements moving around you. Lazily opening an eye, you noticed your boyfriend all fresh out of the shower, who was trying to get into the hammock without waking you up. Changmin miserably failed as you sat and you stood up despite his protests for you to stay in the hammock, lazily waiting for him to sit comfortably. You smiled when he reached out his arms for you to come and lay on top of him, his leg falling off the hammock as you comfortably laid back, your warmth kept and increased by your boyfriend’s body and hot shower.

“Hold me tight, please,” you whispered as you felt him giggle under you, arms securely wrapped around your figure. Changmin made sure that you were well hidden under the blanket before starting to balance the hammock again, closing your eyes as the comfort lulled you back to sleep. “I’m right here, love. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against the crown of your head before kissing it, weakly smiling as his calm heartbeat helped you fall back asleep.

Changmin delicately plucked out a flower under the hammock and played with it for a while before pushing your hair away from your ear and slid it on top of it. Smiling at the pretty view of you sleeping with a flower on your head, he held you closer to him, as if it were possible. He stifled a yawn as his workout tired him out, his chin resting against your head as it was his turn to doze off. __

You softly sighed and opened your eyes, a chest slowly rising and falling under your ear. You recognised your boyfriend’s fragrance as you hoisted yourself higher in his hold, delicately kissing the side of his neck. It was later in the day, you had no idea how long you had been sleeping for, but you were rid of any tiredness and felt at peace.

Changmin seemed to be quietly sleeping, his arm protectively wrapped around you as the other hung off the hammock. Something fell on his stomach from your head as you shifted, only to discover a flower with a smile. You stared at your boyfriend for a while and couldn’t stop smiling, but this delicate, romantic moment got ruined by the not-so-sophisticated grumbling noises coming from your stomach.

Trying to extricate yourself from the hammock without waking your boyfriend up, you felt his hand catching your wrist, his eyes slowly opening with a soft smile drawn on his face.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice deeper than it normally was. “I’m going to make us something to eat,” you spoke, and he sat up, motioning you to come closer. You obeyed and he reached out for something stuck in your hair, only to find a yellow petal of the flower he had placed in your hair while you were napping. You smiled at the sweet gesture and he got up as well, kissing your temple as he slightly limped and whined.

“Argh, I forgot to stretch,” he muttered as he made his way to the kitchen, wincing then hissing at his sore leg muscles. Shifting his weight on his hands resting against the kitchen counter, you compassionately rubbed his back as you got out a pan from a drawer. “I was too excited to come to cuddle with you, you seemed so peaceful that I completely forgot to stretch,” he said while wrapping his arms around your waist, earning a smile from you.

He peppered your cheek with kisses every time you moved around the kitchen, making a healthy brunch for the two of you. Once you were almost done, he let go of your waist to set the table, grabbing your shoulders and guided you to sit down to take the reins. Then, Changmin placed everything in the plates and served one to you, walking to his seat with his own.

You ate in silence, his hand linked with yours, the sun shining brighter than before as you finished eating. Changmin kindly rubbed your shoulder, whispering to go back outside while he cleaned and washed everything. You played with the cat for a while, giggling as you manage to place the flower on top of his head, the creature weirdly moving its head to get the thing off him.

Changmin laughed as he joined you on the patio, drawing his chair closer to yours and you kissed his cheek as he sat down.

Smiling to each other, you came nearer and delicately pressed your lips against his, feeling him grin in the kiss as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder blades. Once you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered the words you loved coming out of his mouth.

“I love you."

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maybe-its-micheal · 3 years

Text

Ghostbur tapped his feet against the ground, creating a rhythmic sound that made him smile. His shoes made such a nice sound against the blackstone bricks, he thought. Wait... blackstone? Where was there blackstone?

He checked his surroundings. Oh! The nether hub! Why was he here again? He didn't remember. He walked over to the edge, thinking maybe if he saw whatever he was here for it would jog his memory, but all he saw was lots of lava.

He looked down. "You know, someone could fall down there. Maybe someone should build a fence," he said absent mindedly, before heading back through the portal. He had many books to read back home! And lots of people to speak with

-----

The nights seemed to last longer every time Tommy tried to sleep. He turned over in bed, knocking against the white wool that made up the sides of his tent. This sent rainwater cascading down from the thin material, soaking him.

"MMMMMM, FUCK!" Tommy yelled, sitting up. If he couldn't sleep before, he certainly wouldn't be able to now. He got up out of bed and stepped outside the tent. This, of course, only served to expose him to more rain, but he hardly cared. He needed some fresh air.

He marched across the beach down to logstedshire, but paused at the enterence. What was the point in going in? It was empty anyway- Wilbur was back in L'manburg, he had been for days. He turned around to walk in the other direction, mud splashing against his shoes.

As he walked he thought of Tubbo. He was so impossibly angry about his banishment, and he knew it was Tubbo who gave the order, but he couldn't bring himself to hate them. He would have loved to point his finger at Dream, or George, or anyone else for that matter, but what would be the point in that? It's not like he could fight back, he had nothing, and so he was left with only one man to blame it on- himself.

He moved a lock of soaked hair away from his eyes. Burning down George's house was probably the thing he regretted most in all his time here. He wished more than anything that he could go back and just not do it- but what's the point in wishing? He's already been exiled. He may as well put up with it.

The splash of his shoes against the wet ground slowed to a stop. He may as well... put up with it. He sniffed, and moved his hands upward to his face. May as well put up with it. He looked at them through the darkness, they were shaking, and covered in small bruises and scratches he'd collected while scavenging. Put up with it. Rain blurred his vision, and his hands became two unidentifiable blobs that faded into the rest of the dark. Put up with it. The rain was so cold- why did he come out here? Put up with it. He shook his head, sending droplets flying off of his hair in every direction. Put up with it. He was shivering. Put up with it. Put up with it. Put. Up. With. It.

His knees buckled and he fell to the ground with a pained yell. His tears mixed with the rain as he cried out every name he could think of. He wanted them back! He wanted L'manburg back! He just wanted to go back- why was he here? Why did he have to be away from everyone?

"QUCKITY!" He sobbed. "Wilbur! FUNDY! Please! PLEASE! TUBBO! TUBBO PLEASE!" But he knew none of them could hear him. They were a thousand blocks away, sleeping soundly. They were all together- happy, and at home. "Tubbo... Tubbo please..."

But what was the point in yelling for people who couldn't hear him anyway? He put his head in his hands as his crying got quieter and quieter- he tried to wipe his face dry, but his hands were just as wet. "Fuck this rain."

He got up, and trudged over to his nether portal. As soon as he stepped in the rain evaporated off of him; he was warm and dry, at least, but still not ready to go back to his tent. His bed was covered in rain anyway, so what would be the point of going back?

He chose a random direction and walked some more, not really caring where he ended up. He couldn't stop thinking... Tubbo really did choose appeasing Dream over him. He really did say the discs were meaningless. How many days had it been? It didn't matter, he still couldn't believe it anyway. He hardly believed he was out here alone... how could that happen?

He had a secret world in his heart. A world where Wilbur never died, and Techno never fought against L'manburg. A world where he had all of his discs, and he listened to them with Tubbo at the end of every day while they watched the sunset. Sometimes he retreated to that world when the real one became too harsh... but he always had to come back.

He was standing in the middle of the nether hub, right outside the portal to the community house. He noticed that he was still shivering, which was odd. The nether is so hot.

He swished his hand through the purple smoke of the portal. On the other side... was a world he was no longer a part of. His brother who betrayed him, and his brother who died. His best friend, who stabbed him in the back. His discs, in the hands of people he didn't trust, and his nation so far alienated from its original purpose that he could hardly call it L'manburg.

He moved his hand back out, purple dust swirling around his fingers for a few moments. He thought for the first time... maybe he didn't want to be a part of that world anyway. He retreated back to the world in his heart... that was the world that was his true home.

He closed his eyes as he walked out of the main portal room, and down the suspended blackstone bridge. He could see Tubbo... no longer in a stuffy suit acting all important, but in his ussual green button down. They were laughing. Tommy smiled, still walking, eyes still closed, and began to laugh as well.

Wilbur was there. He was alive, and sane. Phil and Techno were there too... and Quckity, and Fundy, and Niki, and everyone. And they were all laughing. Tommy's feet stumbled about over the path, landing sloppily against the blackstone, laughing so hard he almost lost his balance. He laughed, and laughed, and-

His eyes shot open. As his weight shifted from one foot to the other, he realized there was nothing beneath it. He tipped backwards, body falling towards the lava put hundred of blocks below. He gasped, and just as quickly as the realization that he wouldn't survive set in, and hand wrapped around his wrist, and he was pulled back onto the bridge.

Dream.

"Tommy! What are you doing? Its 4 am, and you just- are you ok? What are you laughing at?" His voice was higher than ussual, strained by panic.

Tommy caught his breath. "I didn't..." his eyes met Dream's. "Did I just..."

It was clear his mind was racing, and he had no idea what to say. Dream sighed. "You need to be more careful, this is the nether." He shut his eyes tight and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to recollect his thoughts. "Do you want me to walk you back home?"

Tommy looked up at him. Home.

For a moment- just a moment, less than a second- he thought he meant the home he'd imagined, but before he said yes it all came rushing back. He didnt mean home. He didnt mean L'manburg where everyone he cared about was- he meant the place he was exiled to. To the world he didn't want to live in.

His faced scrunched up with frustration as he faced the Green Man, hate burning in his eyes. He did want to go home. But he didn't have one anymore.

He looked at him- he symbolized every aspect of this world he hated. But then he closed his eyes, and he was back in his L'manburg. "Where did you go, Tommy?" His Wilbur asked him. "Let's all go back to the van- I'll play us a song!" He smiled again.

"Tommy?" Dream asked, but Tommy didn't hear. Tommy wasn't a part of his world anymore.

"There he is!" Tubbo called. "Hey big man! Come on, you're late!" He slowly picked up a foot, swinging it backwards ever so slowly. Dream didn't notice.

"I'm coming, Tubbo," Tommy whispered. "What?" Dream asked. "I'm coming home."

His foot was back, dangling over the lava again. He shifted his weight to it, and with a smile, he made his choice. He'd never have to leave his world again. He was finally home.

"TOMMY!" Dream shouted, lunging forward with arms outstretched. He missed, just barely, and the teen fell over the edge of the bridge, plummeting down, down, down... Dream wasted no time, biting into a god apple and throwing himself down after him, but as they both reached the bottom it was too late. He wasn't able to hold his body over the lava, and after a few minutes of struggling, there was nothing recognizable left- just blood that ran down both of Dream's arms and stained his white mask.

He couldn't breath- what had he just witnessed? How had he failed? Was it his fault? Guilt and nausea began to set in as he floated there- alone in the lava. A killer in a way he never could have imagined he would be. He felt sick.

-----

Ghostbur returned to the nether the next morning- netherwart! That's what he needed! He stepped through the portal, only to find Dream waiting on the other side.

"Hello Dream!" He greeted with a smile. "I'm here for some netherwart so I can make more potions!"

Dream didn't answer him, he must be busy. Ghostbur's eyes danced around the hub- what would be the best direction to go?

"Wilbur..." Dream choked out.

"Yes?" The ghost replied.

"Tommy is dead..."

"Who?" He asked in his high, scratchy voice. He ambled care free down the path, dragging his hand across the walls that lined the edges. "Oh! They've added barriers! How handy!" He exclaimed to himself

#suicide tw #tw suicide #its 5 am rn and i didnt proof read please cut me some slack <3 #mcyt #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #tommy innit #tommyinnit #dream smp #dreamsmp #dreamsmp fanfic #dream smp fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dreamsmp fanfiction #mcty angst #angst #ghostbur

354 notes · View notes

hanii-rose · 3 years

Note

Ello Ello~! Can I get a garou with a s/o that was kidnapped in the past and has trama now, but acts so chill that you wouldn’t even notice? It’s ok if you don’t want to lol ( fluff please tho- )

Truth

Garou × |Fem|Reader

You sat on the grassy ground of your backyard, knees bent to one side, looking over your garden. The large sun hat you wore casted a calming shadow onto your eyes, allowing you to pick at your tomatoes with ease without the harsh sunlight glaring into your retinas.

You hummed a faint tune, relaxed and uncaring about the world around you. Not that it had anything interesting going on anyway. Your ruffled, beige skirt gracefully fell onto the the ground over your calves, sprawling onto the grass around you.

You eagerly plucked a ripe, juicy tomato from one of the stems it hung from, placing it into the woven straw basket where many of your other freshly picked vegetables remained.

A gentle breeze brushed past, sweeping your hair off of your shoulders. You gently held onto your summer hat and continued picking the ripest vegetables your garden had to offer, unknowing of a certain someone watching your silent movements.

Out of the blue, a sudden shade had been cast on top of your seated form and for a minute, you believed it was a big raincloud blocking the sun due to the large size of it. When you tilted your head up to inspect the sky, you were met with the face of a boy, a scowl on his features, likely due to the summer heat.

He stood above you, shielding the sun's rays, silently observing your expression from calm to surprised to calm once again.

"The hell are ya' doin'?"

"I'm just gardening. What about you, stranger?"

The unfamiliar male picked at the tight collar of his sweater, trying to enable air to pass into it. He raised a brow, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple to his cheek. Blinking at him in confusion, you shrugged, replacing your blank look with a gentle, happy expression.

It was his turn to shrug, rubbing the back of his neck whilst peering over your newly finished picket fence.

"Just out for a walk, huh?"

He gave a single nod, eyes darting from yours to look to the side.

"Say, isn't it a bit too warm to be wearing such a heavy sweater?"

The scowl from his face dropped, and he turned back to you with a look of annoyance on his face.

"What's it to ya'?"

You turned back to your plush tomatoes, chuckling at his childish words.

"At least I ain't half naked like you!"

Half naked, huh? You wouldn't necessarily call wearing an off shoulder top being 'half-naked' but to a boy, things like that are probably way different...

"That's what a child would say..."

You muttered under your breath but it must've been loud enough for him to hear it. He stopped scratching his neck, eyebrows knitted in utter irritation.

"Haaahhh?"

Plucking a shiny, ripe tomato from it's stem, you tossed it at the man, to which he caught expertly with one hand.

You giggled, your expression sly.

"Here, you can have this. My tomatoes taste really good, try one..."

You looked up at him from below, allowing him to get a better look at your face that had been partially hidden due to your large straw hat.

Your pretty, glossed lips took the shape of an attractive grin, sun kissed cheeks gleaming as the sunshine reflected off of them. Beautiful hair swaying as another faint breeze blew over, somewhat lifting the ends of your loose skirt and ruffling your cotton top.

The scene appeared vivid and bright and the boy in front of you seemed to be taken aback by your appearance, his expression no longer that of annoyed or irked.

"Tomatoes ain't that good..."

He stated, stoic and calculative.

You stretched out your palm to him, offering to take the tomato back.

"You can give it back if you don't want it."

You peeked over at him with one eye closed, a smirk itching to take over your lips.

"I never said I ain't gonna eat it!"

Mhmmm, that's what you thought.

"Well stranger, now that I've given you a peace offering, how about you give me a name?"

He looked up at the sun, contemplating your request, ultimately deciding to tell you. It was the decent thing to do anyways...

"Name's Garou."

You nodded, beginning to fill your basket once again.

"I see, I see..."

He waited, leaning on your tall wooden fence, arms crossed, tapping his foot.

You said nothing.

"Well, aren't ya' gonna tell me yers'?!"

Snorting, you grabbed the tin watering can that sat beside you, not bothering to give him a glance.

"Whatever, I'm leavin'!"

He started to walk, straightening himself out and biting into the red, delectable tomato.

"Y/N."

He halted mid-step, craning his head and looking over his shoulder.

"My name is Y/N."

Without a word, he walked off, disappearing over the horizon. What a strange fellow...

🍅🍅🍅 >>

"Yo..."

You craned your neck, tearing your eyes off of the worded pages of the neighborhood newspaper. Your knee length, white dress slowly swayed as you came to a halt on your large, metal garden swing.

"Oh stranger, you again! Back for another tomato?"

Garou folded his arms, leaning on the thick steady metal legs of the swing set.

"Are ya' gonna give me another tomato?"

You shrugged, closing the newspaper and placing it down next to you.

"Sure, if you want. They're really good, right?"

"I've tasted better..."

Garou picked at his nails with a bored look, uninterested in small talk.

"Ok, either way, I'll get you one. How about you sit down here while you wait?"

You patted the empty spot next to you on the large swing but he passed, walking away.

"Now, hold on mister!"

"Oh, c'mon! Sit down while I bring you some vegetables and then we'll talk!"

Before he could walk too far, you latched onto his arm, taut biceps tightening at the feeling of your smaller, smooth limbs around his. Hugging it, you pressed it close to your chest, somewhat leaning into him, squishing up against him. Garou's eyes had widened in surprise at your actions and he tried wiggling out of your grasp but you were unrelenting.

What? Wait...what? Did you just invite him for some vegetable tea-time? Him? The Hero Hunter? Wait, did you just invite him to something? How long had it been since a pretty girl wiggled around his arm for a chance to talk to him?

"Fine."

Oh, right never... Well, since your being so persistent, why the fuck not?

You happily dragged him back to your swing, pushing his shoulders down until he sat comfortably on the seat, legs spread and arms resting on headrest.

"I'll be right back!"

Scurrying off, you carefully began plucking the ripest and juiciest tomatoes your garden could offer and bringing them back to Garou.

"Here, these are perfect for eating."

With that, you handed him a straw basket containing three tomatoes and sat down next to him, placing your fingers on your lap.

"So, how are you today?"

You began, trying to elicit small talk from him.

"...Uh, good?"

"Why are you so confused about it?"

You giggled, asking him about his answer.

"W-whatever! Why do ya' have so many tomatoes?"

You tilted your head to the side, thinking about his question.

"Hm? Oh, well I think they taste good..."

Garou gave you a look, as if saying 'that's it?'

"I also sell them to the local stores. I'm a dropout so I have to earn a living somehow, ya' know?"

"But I don't think he could defeat Goku "

Ah, that makes much more sense. Garou gave subtle nods as you rambled on about your interests, favourite books and the nice grocery man down the street who pays extra for your vegetables. But seriously, what's with you? You grab a random guy off of the street and just start talking to him? Who are you?

"Oh, Y/N! I was looking all over for you in your house dearie, I hope you don't mind, I took a look around..."

Huh, who's this?

A middle aged woman, stood in front of the two of you holding a little ceramic pot in her chubby hands, a mouthwatering aroma erupting from inside of it. Her eyes glanced at Garou but took a sharp turn to look back at you, curly brown bob bouncing as she ecstatically spoke.

"I brought you some cabbage stew. I know how much you like my cooking!"

"Oh, Ms. Keiko, you really didn't have to..."

Garou watched as she handed you the pot, chatting away without a care in the world.

"Oh it's no problem, sweetie!"

"No, no, I can't have you cooking for me everyday. I can do it myself, really..."

You exasperated, somewhat irked because of her interruption.

"What do you mean? Oh, you young people think you can do everything yourselves! Honestly, the government should really do something about people your age, especially people like you."

You rubbed your arm awkwardly, brows knitted and lips pulled into an uncomfortable smile.

"Well, I'd best be heading back now! You know how it is, busy busy!"

"I'll just go put this inside, don't go anywhere ok?"

You ushered her off, nodding at whatever she said until she waddled into her own house across the fence. You breathed out a sigh of relief, turning back to Garou to see him munching on a tomato, uninterested.

The sun had set halfway and Garou had heard enough of your meaningless chatter, heaving a big sigh, he stood up abruptly, popping some bones.

You quickly rushed into your home, setting the pot of stew onto your counter to let it cool off. Rushing back outside, you sat down beside Garou once again, and the two of you began to swing, continuing your pointless conversation.

"Hm? Leaving?"

He nodded, holding his last tomato in his dominant hand, and tilting his head towards your fence door, uttering a bored 'see ya' and leaving. You watched him exit, turning to the sidewalk, giving you one last glance and taking off.

---

The sun moved quickly and the once bright sky had turned dim, little drops of milk decorated the rare clear sky. The streetlights shined brightly, yellow glow illuminating everything within its vicinity. A gentle breeze had blown past and you slumped back in your seat, the squeaking of the swing coming to a halt. Reluctantly, you stretched and pushed yourself off, standing up and giving one last look at your backyard, walking inside your quaint home and shutting the door.

You tossed and turned on your bed, sweating profusely. Twisting your beautiful face into a pained expression, eyes shut tight in terror of your own thoughts. The nightmares of your past haunting you while you slumbered, unable to run, confined within your mind.

The rope burns.

The bruises.

The blood.

The tubes.

The thunder.

You weren't going to get much sleep tonight...

It was all so vivid and dark, and the feeling of suffocation creeped down along your throat, setting itself within your chest, as you heaved and shook. You awoke suddenly, nausea and fright overtaking your form as you trembled, beads of sweat rolling down your sides as you hugged yourself, trembling and disoriented.

🍅🍅🍅>>

Since the last visit from Garou, vegetable tea-time had become a common occurrence.

Garou trudged through the woods behind your house, nearing it slowly, hands pocketed, back arched.

The days only got hotter and Garou found himself sweltering under the sun's powerful rays, anticipating a fresh, juicy tomato from your garden. He would never admit it, but this month had been a somewhat therapeutic time for him. Every time he sent a hero to the hospital, he gave you a visit, sometimes prompt, sometimes prolonged.

All of the blood and injuries had been washed away and packed before that, he wanted to avoid any questions regarding his whereabouts. He feared if you saw his true colours, you'd stop being so sincere with him. A week ago you had proudly declared that you were friends now in your usual rambles and Garou wasn't willing to take any chances ruining it.

Free tomatoes with a cute girl? Yeah, no way in hell he's lettin' you find out who he is.

As he stepped closer and closer to your home, nearing the fence, he spotted you in your usual spot near your rich tomato plants, an unfamiliar girl standing in front of you, carrying two or three compact cardboard boxes.

Hiding behind the blooming cherry blossom trees behind your home, he gave an ear to your conversation.

"My dad only buys tomatoes from you because he takes pity on you."

"Of course, please tell your father I'm grateful."

"I'm not finished! Nobody from class misses you. We all think you're a freak!"

"I'm sorry you all feel that way..."

"The neighbors only talk to you because you're alone all the time."

"Yes, they're so kind..."

"I think it would've been better if you had just stayed missing!"

"Y-you should bring these boxes to your dad now. Tell him I added some extra in there, just to be safe."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Oh, you came today, good! How are you?"

With that, she turned around, her foot purposely on one of the adorable tomato sprouts, mashing it down with the heel of her white sneaker. After the baby-plant murderer left, Garou circled in, greeting you in a casual manner. You visibly brightened up and grasped his arm.

"S'all good... Say, who was that?"

Garou rubbed the back of his neck, brow quirked up, waiting for an answer.

"Remember the store owner I told you about the other day? That's his daughter. Cute, isn't she?"

Garou shrugged, perplexed. You seemed to like her and from the conversation, he could tell you knew her well.

"Hello, anyone in there?"

Then why was she speaking to you like that? And more importantly, what did she mean when she said you should've stayed missing? Was he missing something? Was there something he didn't know which everyone else did? Nah, you told him everything, it couldn't be that.

You waved your hand in front of his face, breaking him from his thoughts.

"W-wha..."

"I've been talking to you this entire time, what are you thinking so hard about?"

Poking his cheek repeatedly, you playfully provoked him and he swatted your hand away.

"Hurry up an' give me a tomato, lady..."

---

Sifting through the soil on the ground, you had found the perfect spot for re-planting that cute, crippled little tomato sprout that the store owner's daughter had squished. But holding it in place while simultaneously patting the soil down to fix it in was proving to be quite a challenge.

You needed some help.

"Oh, Garou~"

"Be a dear and help me with this? I promise I'll make it up to you!"

You sang, batting your lashes and twisting around to face him. He sat relaxing on the garden swing, chewing up a tomato you had given him. He looked at you, contemplating whether he should respond to your strange tone.

He glanced at you, then glanced at the half bitten vegetable in his hand. With one bite, it was gone. Rubbing his hands clean on his pants, he walked over to you, sqatting down to your level and holding the tiny plant in place as you stuffed it's space with rich soil and fertilizer.

"Thank you! You're such a big help."

Aren't you exaggerating just a bit, now? All he did was hold a plant while you did all the work. Nevertheless, your comment added to his ego and he swaggered back over to the swings, chomping down on another tomato, this time with a trail of juice running down his chin.

"Ah, it's dripping onto your beautiful sweater! Hold on..."

You stood up from your squatting position on the floor and took out a pink little handkerchief from your dress pocket. Adjusting your bucket hat, you patted Garou's chin, absorbing and wiping away any juice stains that may have clung to his skin.

"There, that's much better isn't it?"

"...Just like a child."

He nodded, cheek puffing out as he popped the rest of the tomato into his mouth, dirtying himself once again. You giggled to yourself, your fingers helping to muffle the noise.

He ignored you, poking his chin out for you to wipe again. You complied, of course.

Your day happily went by, without any interruptions.

All too soon, it was time for him to leave. The sun had fully set in the distance and the sky had once again been filled with glitter, sparkling in your eyes as you watched it together.

"I'm leavin'..."

You nodded, standing up and walking him to your fence door. Before he could fully step out, you pulled on his sweater with your index and thumb. He turned around slowly, facing you, confused at your foreign expression.

"Hm...?"

Your eyes fixed themselves down on your cobble walkway, trying to shelter your face from his observant eyes. Your free hand grasped and pulled on your skirt, nervously fidgeting in place. He could hear your heart pounding, hammering in your chest...or was it his?

The night had gone silent as you pulled him down lower, stepping up on your tippy toes and connecting a chaste kiss to his cheek.

He was left dumbfounded at your actions and you hesitantly released the fabric of his sweater, bringing it to your chest.

"I told I'd make it up to you, didn't I?"

The look on your face astounded him, leaving him stranded at your gate, as you dusted yourself off, looking up at him with a soft smile.

Garou blinked a couple of times, quickly shuffling to turn around, away from your stare.

"I d-didn't think ya' meant that..."

You looked away, embarrassed.

"W-well, I'll see you tomorrow."

He agreed, and you ran inside your home, standing near your doorway, looking at him walking away.

"Goodnight!"

You called from behind him and he waved with his back turned to you, getting farther and farther from you.

---

The cold air of the A/C hit your skin, calming you as you hugged your pillow close to your chest. Your eyes remained comfortably closed, happy thoughts streamed through your slumbering mind.

Tonight, you had slept soundly.

🍅🍅🍅>>

The booming crashes of thunder bellowed through the unusually quiet city as Garou sauntered past the glossy windows of the street, mindlessly observing the contents on the other side.

𝔹ℝ𝔼𝔸𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℕ𝔼𝕎𝕊: 𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕦𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 ℂ𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕄 𝕜𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕟𝕕

Clothing, accessories, toys and electronics all looked the same to him as he carelessly made his way to you. The heavy rain drops made it harder for him to move, his sweater becoming drenched and heavy with water, his usual hairdo slumped forward, impairing his vision slightly. He came to an abrupt halt in front of the big TV store, eyeing the news displayed in bold letters on the screen.

He's reading slowly, focused on the faces of the two bastards on the screen.

...𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕧𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕤 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖

The images of innocent children flash by and somewhere in his cold, tattered heart he feels thankful for their safety. And then he sees it.

It was you. You, but...but, smaller. You...

Your picture. Dead expression, skin battered with bruises and scratches, large dirty cloth dangling off of your tiny shoulders. Innocent eyes, tearful.

Garou raced through the slippery streets of City M, the downpour only getting worse with every step he took. He could barely see in front of him, the streets had gotten so dark and hazy, the only thing ringing in his ears were the crashes of thunder that blew out through the atmosphere.

Finally!

Unimaginable winds collided with his form, pushing him back, street lights bursting, paper, signs and peices of wood dangerously flew around, nearly missing his body. He was almost there.

His harsh, observant eyes latched onto you, sitting on the floor, eyes tightly shut, your hands locked onto your ears, drowning out the frighteningly loud rolls of thunder. The lights seemed to be switched on, but no light was being emitted from them, leaving the room in a dark state. The power must have gone out.

He knocked on your door, holding onto one of the pillars of your home as to not get blown away. You hadn't responded. He knocked again. No response. Suddenly, a crash came from the inside, just as another boom of thunder shook the ground. He heard you shriek and without a second thought, followed the noise to your backyard, two large french windows open and banging against the walls outside. Climbing in, he grasped the handles, bringing them together and locking it securely, effectively closing it. The sounds outside had been muffled by the warm walls of your home and he turned around, studying the interior.

"Y/N."

He walked over, kneeling down to you, grasping your shoulder as gently as he could. Eyes softening at your face, tear stained and hurt.

"G-Garou, I "

"I-im sorry..."

Another flash of lightning flashed through your windows and you jumped onto Garou, latching onto his torso, face buried within his broad chest, cold and wet from the rain.

---

The storm had frizzled away rather slowly and all the while Garou had held you in his arms, silently, face hidden in your hair. You had cried and sniffled, ruining his already wet sweater with snot. As the rain came to a stable pace of hushed pitter patters, you finally released him from your hold.

You cleared your throat, standing up and rubbing your sides up and down.

"I don't know what came over me..."

Garou steadily rose from the ground, towering over you, face blank, staring at you intently.

"Y-you're here for some tomatoes, right?"

...

"No."

You shook slightly, he noticed. Wobbling backwards, you tripped, teetering downwards until Garou had stopped you mid-fall by your wrist. He pulled back, flinging you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shuddering body.

"I'm here for the truth."

You but your lip, afraid of coming clean. You had his it for so long, you knew he'd feel bad if you told him now...

"I...um, are you sure?"

He nodded.

"Let me get you a towel first. You're cold..."

---

And so you had begun to explain your childhood. The happy days in the sun, at the park, holding your mom's hand and playing with your little friends.

Subsequently, this lead to many individuals wanting it for themselves or for research. The earliest memory of your childhood was the worst. The day you had been snatched from the warm protective embrace of your mother, into the confines of a cold metal room, fit with a heavy metal door. Tubes and needles poked your sides, dug into you skin, filling you with unknown substances, heightening your senses to the point where it hurt to exist.

You always had a fascination with plants, able to care for them and somehow make them grow quicker and healthier. At first, everyone thought it was your natural green thumb and caring nature but soon you had found out about a power no one else possessed. Growth manipulation. It wasn't just plants. Little animals and insects could be effected as well. Some thought you were a freak, others deemed you a lucky child, blessed with special powers gifted from the heavens.

You were often experimented on, put aside and brought back. It seemed to be a never-ending cycle of loneliness and isolation that kept you silenced. If you didn't comply with your tormentors, they'd tie you up, burning your soft baby flesh in the process, when it rained the lights would go out and thunder would cackle throughout the empty metal corridors, resonating through your small metal room, entering your tiny being. It was horrific, the bruises you received, the blood you shed and the years of your life which you lost.

Seven years. It took them seven years to find you and the rest of the children. You were rescued at last by elite forces storming the illegal research facility, the House of Evolution, more like the house of horrors.

You had been given hope but alas, your mother no longer lived in the same city, no longer cried for you to come back, no longer wanted anything to do with a girl such as yourself. At the tender age of fifteen, you re-entered society, ready to go to school, make friends, study, live. But when the time came, you found it difficult to fit in. Everyone was so mature, so stable and unhurt. It pained you to know no one understood your situation.

Whatever the other teens talked about, you would have a hard time understanding, you had no idea about any of the new trends, never held a smartphone in your life, never went shopping for clothes, never had a boyfriend and you certainly never anticipated anything other than pain. Emotions were hard to deal with in your early years but as time passed and you grew older, dropping out of school and going for therapy, you slowly figured your way around the world, while still staying in your own little universe.

Sometimes, things which occurred in more recent days triggered your painful memories, which triggered your anxiety, which triggered emotions that were unwanted. One of them being fright, like now. Garou listened intently, nodding and opening and closing his fists on his lap, understanding bits and pieces of how you felt. Clueless and naive, almost unwanted.

He sympathises, but still experienced some pain at the fact of your secrecy from him. Weren't you friends? Why didn't you tell him? He never would've guessed you had been through something like this. You acted so...so indifferent. You explained it normally. When people knew of your life, they could react in two ways. Sympathetic to the point where it becomes disgusting or being disgusted by you themselves. Garou was your friend, you didn't want either from him. You wanted genuine emotions from him. He understood again, much to your relief.

"Still, ya' could'a told me..."

"W-well, isn't there something you're not telling me, Garou?"

He gulped, his throat went dry. He scratched the back of his head, acting aloof. He shook his head no and crossed his arms, roughly leaning back onto your couch, looking anywhere but you.

"You're the Hero Hunter, right? I'm not as airheaded as you, I actually watch the news."

"Yeah, so? If ya' knew all this time, why didn't ya' say somethin'about it, huh?"

"Because you hadn't said anything. And I guess, I didn't want anything to change. I liked that you came around for tomatoes. It kind of sounds like I used you since everytime you were here, I felt normal."

"It was like going through therapy all over again. But better, with you... I didn't care what you did, what mattered was that you came back to listen to me and my nonsense...I liked it that way. That's why yesterday, I...."

You leaned into his side, your head falling gently onto his shoulder, your fingers intertwined on your lap. Garou uncrossed his arms, stretching and coyly placing one around you.

"Ya' wouldn't mind if I asked for a tomato, would ya'?"

"Of course not! Let me get you one..."

"No, ya' ain't gettin' it. I want one today..."

He sat up straight, gazing deep into your sparkling eyes, hand grasping yours to keep you from moving any farther.

"Tomorrow and...forever. Now do ya' get it? I wanna listen to you jabber on about how some stupid anime character can't beat another one, or how the ugly store guy gave ya' extra money for yer' plants. I liked it that way too..."

He rose from his seat on your couch, slithering an arm around your waist and inching closer to your face, noses brushing tenderly against one another.

"I'll give you all of the tomatoes I have...forever."

With that, the two of you sealed your lips in an act of pure passion. The kiss was innocent and sweet, and it left a warm feeling burning in your chest.

"You should see the look on yer' face."

Garou whispered and you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, fondly eyeing his features.

"Do you want a tomato or not?"

Raw sunlight streamed through your large, pristine windows, illuminating the two of you where you stood. If anyone had witnessed the scene, they would surely deem it ethereal. You felt that way and so did he.

"You're blushing, Garou~"

"Sh-shut up and gimme a tomato, woman!"

In a strange little way, you matched each other, supported one another and existed together, through your highs and lows, through his ups and downs. Suddenly, everything was brighter and easier. You went back to school, working hard, having the courage to do anything you wanted.

Garou found a resolve as well, he left for sometime, but returned to you in one piece, took up a job and continued living. This was not how you had imagined your future to be, but it was this situation that gave you a reason to finally live life the right way. You finally felt happy to be free. And that was more than enough for you. Garou was here, and you were right there with him.

_________________________________________

The fluff at the end BLEHHH too sweet for me. Also, I feel like the ending is so rushed??? Sorry this took months to finish. I was stuck in a prison known as math and had no way of escaping. Hope you enjoyed!

#garou x reader #garouxreader #garou the hero hunter #garouonepunchman #garou #opm garou #garou x fem reader #female pronouns #female reader #pls let me know if i need to tag anything else

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maddiewritesstucky · 3 years

Note

Playing with babies? 🥺 (I’m not even a kid person... and yet...)

...Nonnie, you have no way of knowing this, but you have hit me where it counts.

FRESH. HELL. 😩

Alright, let’s do this. Gird your ovaries and your brovaries and whatever else you need to, you just asked an ECE teacher to pop off about her softest Steve being good with babies 😭

Silver Steve is about to get paternal as fuck 💕

Bucky has spent enough time around Steve to know that Steve likes children. Not in a ‘yeah they’re okay, I can tolerate them’ kind of way - but a real, active enjoyment of them

He sees it in the way Steve’s smile goes all gooey for babies passing by them in strollers or in close proximity to them when they’re out in cafes; when Steve makes silly faces at them in line at grocery stores to hear them laugh, and when he makes conversation with the braver little ones who wander over their way and play nearby when they’re spending time in the park

Steve is good with children, and so clearly loves being around them

But that does not prepare Bucky for the devastating reality of witnessing Steve actually playing with a child, when he lets himself into Steve’s house on a regular Thursday afternoon with the spare key Steve gave him...and finds Steve mid tea-party with the neighbours 18month old daughter

“What’s going on in here?” Bucky’s entire insides turn to mush as he takes in the scene before him - Steve cross-legged on the floor, holding the world’s smallest tea cup, whilst Leah babbles away, swinging her teapot around in the vague direction of Steve’s cup

Steve looks up at the sound of his voice and there’s a big, soft smile on his face - although Bucky knows it was already firmly in place before he walked in - and then Steve turns his attention back to Leah for a moment to cue her with a happy gasp of “Oh, Bucky’s here! Yay!” before he starts talking to Bucky

“Sweetheart, did you get my text? This was really last minute, Shelby had to go pick up Alistair ‘cause his car broke down on the way home from work, and she asked if I could just watch Leah for a while, they shouldn’t be too long—”

Steve is rattling off his explanation, but all Bucky can focus on is the way Leah has plonked herself in Steve’s lap and grabbed one of his hands to investigate how much bigger it is than her own

Steve’s letting her trace the lines of his palm with her tiny fingers and his other hand is absently sweeping through her almost-curls, and it all just strikes a very new, very Significant chord within Bucky

“I don’t mind at all,” Bucky goes to join them on the floor, pecking a soft kiss to Steve’s temple and saying hi to Leah, who is far too interested in the span of Steve’s fingers to care about his presence much

Bucky already knew that Steve has a good relationship with this young family next door, knows that Steve has babysit for them on occasion when they’ve been in a bind. Bucky’s even met them a few times himself when Steve’s been talking to them over the fence, and the time Alistair came to borrow Steve’s weed eater, and once when Bucky made way too many cookies and Steve suggested they take some next door

So he’s seen Steve interact with Leah before, in fleeting situations. But this is the first time he’s really watched how Steve is with this tiny person, and it’s...magic

Steve is effortless, making conversation with Leah that has her genuinely lighting up, even though Bucky only understands maybe every fourth word she says. Steve is so animated, laughing at smiling right back at her when she cues him to, entirely and joyously being part of this minimally comprehensible exchange

Steve is endlessly patient, following Leah out to the back yard and crouching in the grass next to her; talking about the trail of ants she’s spotted, gently reminding her that her hands are too strong to touch them, so it’s kinder to just look

Steve is comforting, when Leah starts to get noticeably anxious over how long it’s taking for her parents to come back. Steve quietly offers his open arms, palms up, waiting for her to accept the invitation before he scoops her up and holds her close against his chest, rubbing her back soothingly and telling her she’s safe and it’s okay to miss Mom and Dad, because they’ll be back soon

Bucky’s heart is cracked open wider than he ever thought possible

Of course he’s pictured a future with Steve, they’re at that point now where there’s a sense of ‘we’re in this, this is going somewhere good.’ But watching Steve with Leah, watching his radiant kindness and inherent gentleness and love just pour out of him for this child who isn’t even his...Bucky suddenly knows in a very deep and real way, that he wants this future with Steve

It’s a quiet, peaceful sort of realization. He knows this is something he doesn’t have to rush, knows that Steve is every bit as invested as he is, and he’s safe to let things unfold in their right time

...But he also knows, with that same quiet sense of ‘right’ that there’s a step he’s ready for right now, and he’s pretty sure Steve is there too

He waits until that night, long after Leah has been picked up by her very grateful parents; after he and Steve have had dinner, when they’re laying together on the couch, his head on Steve’s chest while they half-watch a documentary about the Loch Ness monster

Bucky tips his head up, shuffling himself until he can properly see Steve’s face.

“Hey Steve?” he says softly. Steve hums a ‘mm?’ drawing his fingertips sleepily up and down Bucky’s spine, and Bucky waits for Steve to look at him before he speaks again.

“...Do you wanna live together?”

Steve looks at him for a moment, and then he’s reaching for the remote to switch off the TV and turning his whole, very-suddenly-awake attention on Bucky

“Are you...is this you asking, or is this hypothetical?”

Bucky knows him well enough now to know the almost-smile sparking at the corners of Steve’s lips and his eyes is him trying to rein himself in, to not get over-excited before he has all the information

It just makes Bucky’s own happiness bubble up even brighter

“I’m asking, Steve,” he smiles, shifting so he’s on top of Steve, “...do you want to live with me?”

Steve’s face breaks out into an expression of pure joy, and he cups Bucky’s face in his hands to pull him down into a kiss

“Oh my god, sweetheart...yes, I do want that, I want that so much,” he kisses his joy all over Bucky’s cheeks, his nose, his forehead, “have you thought about where? Do you want to move in here, or did you want to find a place somewhere together...?”

“I want to live here, this is...” home, is what Bucky wants to say, because it’s true - he’s got a drawer in the bathroom and a bedside table in the bedroom. Steve keeps his favourite kind of coffee in the cupboard all his favourite snacks, and Bucky’s favourite scented soap in the bathroom. There’s a set of Bucky’s clothes here and some of his books and he always forgets his laptop charger here

But more than that, this is the place where Bucky feels most at ease. He walks in the door and he feels his whole body physically relax, like it knows it’s somewhere safe

This is the couch where Steve holds him in the evenings, and over at the dining table is where they exchanged their very first (rather comical) I love you’s

The kitchen is where Steve taught Bucky how to make the perfect French toast, and the bedroom is where Bucky learns time and time again just how much his body is capable of feeling, and right here in this living room, not four hours ago, is where Bucky came to know deep down in his soul that his ‘forever’ looks just like Steve Rogers

This is home, so that’s exactly what Bucky says

Steve wraps him up tight in his arms and smiles so big into the kisses he plants on Bucky’s face, and he points out that Bucky’s already got a key... Steve has just been quietly holding out for him to want to use it every day 💕

#silver steve #stucky au #steve/bucky #someone send help #i have done this to my damn self #😭😭😭

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tt0bu · 3 years

Text

Periwinkles

Originally posted at AO3

Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Pairing: GiyuuTan

The first time Kamado Tanjirou met Tomioka Giyuu, he was eight years old.

His Ma and Pa came out of the back door, away from their old oven where the last batch of the shokupan was left to sit, maybe to burn, since little Tanjirou thought something must be wrong. There was haste in his father’s steps, hurried and careful. His mother’s strides were stiff, nervous, unsure. Nezuko, his little sister, was pulling on the grass where she sat, streaks of bright sunlight bouncing off her giggling face.

Tanjirou watched his parents trek up to the end of the street on that little hill in the middle of a city they call home.

He saw every adult from the neighborhood walk the same path, disappearing behind the gates of Nishida-san’s house.

Except for one unfamiliar uncle.

The said uncle, who looked too western, who looked like those uncles from foreigner spy movies his father loved watching, stood unmoving under the waiting shed just across the Kamados’ home. He was looking towards the end of the street too, where all the adults had disappeared, but made no move to follow. He was holding a black book close to his chest, and little Tanjirou couldn’t see anything aside from three blue lines on the cover of it.

New neighbor? “Uncle!” he called out to the man, jumping on his feet and waving his little palm enthusiastically. His young mind wouldn’t have noticed, but whenever Tanjirou would look back to this moment, he finds it weird how everything just disappeared – no adult to reprimand him because he was talking to a stranger, no chirping of the sparrows perched on the wisteria tree behind their fence, no sound from the nearby train station.

Maybe he dislikes being called uncle? The unfamiliar man with raven black hair and pale skin didn’t heed his call, not sparing a glance at the curious boy trying to catch his attention. Tanjirou took the man’s cold demeanor as a sign of discomfort, probably because he may be new to the neighbourhood. But it did not stop him from crossing the street, diligently looking to his left and right, twice to be absolutely sure, just like how his Pa taught him.

“Uncle,” his tiny hands pulled at the hem of the coat the pale man wore.

Tanjirou saw how the most beautiful pair of eyes, blue like the noon skies and the periwinkles he picks behind the hill where the Hashibiras live, looked down on his little self with disbelief. The man continued to gawk on him, gaping and frozen in his place. He clutched the thick book closer to his chest, tightening his grasp on its spine. The blue lines seemed to shimmer, a quick flash of shine running through the three lines, but Tanjirou thought nothing of it. After all, it’s almost naptime, his eyes may be playing tricks on him at the moment.

“You-“ the pale man with the clothes of a spy and the eyes of the sky swallowed, eyeing little Tanjirou with hesitation. “-you can see me?”

“Uhhh,” Tanjirou looked around, but neither his parents nor the neighbor uncles and aunts were in sight. “Am I not supposed to? Are you hiding from anyone?”

“How, how is this possible?” the boy heard the pale man whispered, his own burgundy eyes examining the leather shoes he wore. Those are pretty shoes, but he never saw his father wear one. Maybe, when he gets a little bigger, he will get the same pair for his Pa. “You never saw me before. Not even once, not even when you d-“ the man with blue eyes bit his bottom lips and stopped muttering to himself. “What’s the difference this time?”

“Uh-oh, no,” Tanjirou shook his head, the hanafuda card earrings swaying along his movement. “Are you new here, Uncle? Are you lost? My Ma and Pa went to Nishida-san’s house but if you’re hungry I can get you these anpans my Pa made! They sell out really, really fast and I’m lucky Ma keeps some for me and my little sister before taking them to the store-“

By the time Tanjirou realised the lost uncle was never really listening to him in the first place, he could already hear the faint wailing and sobbing from the house at the end of the street. However, before he could ask, he heard the lost uncle take a shaky breath, pinching the base of his nose in annoyance, Tanjirou wasn’t sure, before carefully opening his book to a certain page. The pale uncle traced what the little burgundy-haired boy could only imagine were words, before softly uttering the name he knew very well.

“Nishida Sora. 58. Lung disease.”

“Oh!” Tanjirou bounced on his feet at the idea. “You know Nishida-san? Are you here for him? If you don’t know where he lives, just walk to the end of the street. You’ll see a really huge wooden gate with crow carvings. That’s where he lives!”

The pale, blue-eyed uncle didn’t even acknowledge his words.

“If you want, I can walk with you. I just need to take Nezuko with-“

The lost uncle gently tugged on his collar to stop him from running back to their home. “I know where it is, tiny human.”

“Owwkay, big human!” The man visibly grimaced at his words, yet Tanjirou beamed. “Are you his doctor?”

The big human seemed to be ignoring him again.

“Sensei?”

“Uncle?”

“Sir?”

“Grandpa?”

“Grandpa? Do I look that old?” Blue eyes met tiny burgundy ones again, offended, making Tanjirou giggle on the back of his hand. The little boy just shrugged, rocking back and forth on the heel of his feet. He saw the uncle sighed once more before shaking his head. “Cheeky tiny human.”

Tanjirou pretended to know what cheeky meant, tilting his head to the side to get a proper look at the man who was ignoring him a minute ago. “Are you Nishidan-san’s relative? I can introduce you if you want?”

“No. I am here to collect.”

“Collect? Collect what? Stones? Bugs? Ohhh! I know a great spot to catch emperor beetles! Inosuke-chan always catches the biggest ones though and Zenitsu-chan’s just a scaredy cat so we don’t have to worry-“

“No, not that. Not beetles. Look-” This time, the man crouched to the little boy’s eye level, and with the close up view of his blue eyes, Tanjirou thought he was staring at the sky itself. “You shouldn’t be seeing me. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“I can see you though. I have eyes, Uncle. Ma said they’re very pretty.”

“That’s true – uhum.” The big human coughed to his fist, hiding his face. Tanjirou wanted to ask if he was alright and should he fetch this uncle a glass of water? But the man faced him again, gone was his coughing fit. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to talk to strangers?”

“They did.”

“And?”

Little Tanjirou tapped his finger against his chin, pursing his lips, deep in his childish thoughts. “You seem lonely, and Ma said if one of my classmates smelled lonely, I should do something to cheer them up!” He tugged on the hand of the pale uncle, jumping slightly at how cold his palm felt. “What’s your name? I’m Tanjirou!”

“I don’t have a name.”

“Boo! Don’t be silly!” Tanjirou giggled like a child on a swing flying into the air. “Everybody has a name!”

“Not me.”

“But I told you mine!” Tanjirou stomped his little feet on the concrete pavement of the empty street, throwing a tantrum. His father would give him a good scolding, maybe a little spanking, should he see the burgundy-haired boy giving others troubles. Remembering his father’s words, Tanjirou decided to attack from a different angle.

“Hey, hey – hey, oh, come on.” The blue-eyed man crouched again, meeting teary, burgundy orbs and blushing cheeks. “What now? Why are you crying?”

“Because you wouldn’t tell me your name!” Tanjirou wailed louder, acting like a spoiled little kid which is nothing like him, all because he wanted to befriend this uncle who has the bluest eyes, who looked like a spy.

The big human exhaled, evidently troubled, while Tanjirou beamed. “Fine. You can call me Yuu.”

“Yuu-chan!”

“Not Yuu-chan. Yuu. Yuu.”

“Yuu-chan!”

“Why am I even trying,” Yuu-chan whispered mostly to himself, and Tanjirou’s grin grew wider. “I need to go. Nishida Sora will be here any moment. Is that your house?”

Tanjirou followed where his Yuu-chan was pointing. Red, wooden gates, unlit house lanterns, an old service truck with Kamado Bakery hand painted on its back. Yep. That’s their house. “Yes, Yuu-chan! I live there!”

“Come.” The little burgundy-haired boy tilted his head slightly to the side, confused. Uncle Yuu-chan seemed to understand his unspoken question. “I’ll walk you back to your home.”

Years later, when Tanjirou would look back to that moment, he would laugh at the memory of what he would always fondly call as his first brush with death. But his little self wouldn’t realize that, enjoying the coldness of Yuzu-chan’s palm against his own, celebrating his newfound friendship. He wouldn’t catch how Nezuko, as young as she was, got confused about him laughing on his own, hand raised in the air like he was holding something invisible.

Later that night, delirious from a high fever, Tanjirou dreamt of blue skies and periwinkles and spies invading Japan in crisp suits.

“I heard you spoke to humans today, Giyuu.”

“Human. A tiny human, Shinobu. So what of it?”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“He has the gift of Sight!”

“Just be careful, Giyuu. They may let this slip up pass, but we both know consequences are harsh. There’s a reason we never interact with living, breathing humans.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Tanjirou would always look out of his room’s window, ceremoniously, watching each and every adult passing on their street. He was lucky enough to have his room on the upper floor, albeit slightly hating the room during summertime when the sun would burn through the roof. But it was the perfect place, for he can spot Yuu-chan from the crossing.

He mentioned Yuu-chan one evening at dinner, and even when his Ma and Pa was glad he made the new neighbor feel welcomed, they expressed their interest in getting to know the blue-eyed man. He even overheard them talking about it when he went for a pee and his parents were in the living room watching old spy movies again.

“Tanjirou said he’s a new neighbor. But we didn’t hear anyone moving here.”

His father’s kind voice cut through his mother’s worried one. “I’m sure he’s just a passerby.”

“But what if...”

“Don’t worry, if anything, he may be talking about an imaginary friend. Yuu-chan seemed harmless.”

Imaginary? He’s pretty sure Yuu-chan is real! But even if he wanted to defend his ‘not-imaginary’ friend, he would hear his Ma’s voice reminding him to never eavesdrop at adult conversations, Tanjirou. So he let them be, did his business, and went back to sleep. He decided between dreams that he would invite Yuu-chan to his home one day.

But Yuu-chan never showed up at his street again for a long time.

It was snowing when Tanjirou saw him once more. Not the harsh, unpleasant winter, but enough to color the world white. He was clothed from head to toe, layers over layers of protective shirts, mittens and socks. His Ma had always been careful, reminding him that it would be awful to catch a cold during Christmastime.

He was permitted to accompany his Ma on her trip to the local hospital to drop their freshly baked breads and pastries, a Kamado tradition during the holidays. His parents would wake up really early to prepare for it, kneading doughs and cooking fillings because it would mean the world for the health workers if they can get savoury curry pans or their bestselling anpans in between shifts.

Tanjirou watched as his mother dropped the box on the counter, the hospital guard behind her bringing the second one. From the corner of his eyes, on the far-end of the long, white, empty corridor, stood a man who seemed too familiar to him. Before he could even think, Tanjirou let go of his mother’s dress, walking hastily to catch up, sprinting into a full run when the figure headed for the door.

Yuu-chan?

Tanjirou really did his best to catch up, but his tiny legs could only do so much, the stranger who bore resemblance to Yuu-chan got further away even when he pushed against the floor with all his strength. He did not hear his mother’s faint cry, calling his name, wondering where on earth would his first born go and who he was chasing after. But Tanjirou only had one thing in his mind.

“Yuu-chan!” He pushed the heavy glass door open with his little hands, no guard to hold it for him since the man helped his Ma haul the box of pastries inside. But the stranger, with the same black hair cascading below his shoulders in a loose bun, the same crisp gray suit, the same lonely, closed off scent, didn’t acknowledge the pet name. So he tried, hoping to get a reaction, his young heart clenching in sadness because why wouldn’t Yuu-chan want to talk to him? How did his collection go? Would he know if Nishida-san was really gone? “Yuu!”

The man continued walking, past the gates, leaving no chance for the boy to catch up. Tanjirou watched as Yuu-chan turned right to the sidewalk, disappearing behind the brick wall. He wanted to run and give chase even when his lungs felt like it was shrinking in exhaustion, his legs numb from the sprint, his head aching from the lack of oxygen. But before he could move, a gentle yet firm hand grabbed him by his left shoulder, spun him around and before he even realized, his Ma’s comforting and worried scent enveloped him.

“Don’t you dare do that again, my boy.” His Ma whispered in his hair, running her palm up and down Tanjirou’s back to let him know he wasn’t in trouble. “You scared me Tanjirou. What was that about?”

“Sorry Ma,” he was suddenly sobbing, partly because Yuu-chan ignored him like he was a stranger, but mainly because his Ma’s scent was so distressed, anguished, and he never wanted to make his Ma feel that way again. “I-“ a hiccup. “I saw Yuu-chan and I wanted to say hi but-“ another hiccup, and he reached up to wipe the snot dribbling from his nose with the back of his hand. “-but maybe he didn’t like to be my friend anymore.”

“Oh Tanjirou,” his Ma cooed, embracing him tightly against her chest, occasionally wiping his son’s face with her handkerchief. If she noticed that there were no fresh footprints on the snow, no signs of another human being around, she never said a word. Even when she saw his son calling out Yuu-chan to an empty corridor, running after a formless person, she never mentioned a thing. His son doesn’t need anymore heartbreaks on Christmastime, and doesn’t need to hear about how this Yuu-chan is only a fragment of his imagination.

Year: 1945

Month: April

Day: 26

Battle of Okinawa

Giyuu stood in the middle of the dense foliage, on the isolated island of Okinawa, as he watched soldier after soldier fall to their death at the hand of the enemy. Bombs would go off in the distance, their detonation shaking the earth. But he stood unmoving, completely in displeased awe, because this was a scene he had witnessed numerous times before.

“I will never understand humans and their obsession with war.” Makomo stepped quietly to the ground beside Giyuu, and he knew his fellow collector shared his facial expression. They were tired of humans killing each other, hurting each other, to satisfy their greed and hunger. “It hurts Them, these pointless endeavour of humans to best each other.”

“How many have you got?” He chose to ask instead, because even if they wanted to do something, they’re merely collectors. Humans and their dumb ways of dying were out of their duty; they were just sent to collect their due.

“Considering the numbers of soldiers on this island and the guarantee that not even a fourth will come out alive?” Makomo opened her book, flipping several pages. “A lot. You?”

“Thinking about the cups of tea I have to prepare for Choosing already wore me out.”

“Don’t worry, Giyuu. Kyojurou, Mitsuri, and Tengen are here too. Who knows, maybe the numbers are off and we won’t have to collect these much considering the collectors present?”

“When was the book ever wrong, Makomo?”

“Don’t ruin my optimism!”

Their little banter to pass time came to an end when a young, bleeding soldier ran towards their way, a group of foreign forces hot on his trail. He hid behind the trunk of a fallen tree, crying and clutching his jammed rifle to his chest. Giyuu only saw a part of his hair, black like his own, peeking under the helmet he wore on his head. Soot and mud dirtied his young face, but what caught the blue-eyed collector’s interest was his fierce, burgundy eye.

Eye, because his right was shut close, blood covering the half of his face.

“This is what I hate the most.” Makomo opened her book again, tracing the names under her watch. Once she located what she needed, she clicked her tongue in frustration. “Beautiful, innocent souls like him who get dragged to a war he did not wish for. Do you think he cries because he knows he’ll never see his family again? Or perhaps, because he killed another human even when he didn’t even want to fight this war?”

“I think he’s praying.”

“Should we listen to his words?”

“What? No, that’s private.” Giyuu looked at his companion with slight horror in his expression. “He prays to Them, and we can’t disrespect this young soldier’s last minute on this land.”

“I’m just kidding!�� Makomo poked him on his cheek, but immediately turned when footstep grew nearer. When they saw the group of soldiers who gave chase surround the praying man, Makomo tucked her book in her arms and whispered. “It’s almost time, little soldier. I’m sorry your family will never see your beautiful eyes again.”

Giyuu decided to leave and do his part of the job too. He gave one last glance at the praying soldier, only to see one of the enemy hammer the heel of his rifle down to the wounded soldier’s forehead. Said soldier slumped against the trunk, but Giyuu thought he saw enough and turned around in haste.

A blunt force like that would likely scar, and he hoped it won’t seep through the soul. But it had been a traumatic experience for the young soldier with burgundy eyes, spending his last minutes alive surrounded by unfriendly faces. That wound would be a birthmark in most cases, but Giyuu hoped this soldier wouldn’t carry the wound to his next life should he choose to be reborn.

Tanjirou reached for the towel as he straightened his back, wiping away the droplets of water on his face. He absentmindedly traced the birth mark on his forehead as he brushed his teeth, his mind going over his plans for the day. He will meet Inosuke and Zenitsu at the latter’s grandpa’s house for a group study in preparation for their high school entrance exam. On his way back, he has to buy cough drops for his Pa who refused to see a doctor and will always counter their arguments with all I need is a good night sleep and plenty of water.

There’s nothing much to do for the day but to study, he figured, so he stuffed all his textbooks and notes into his bag and rode his bike to the Hashibiras to collect his friend. Inosuke thrashed like a bug lying on its back, complaining about why he always gets to sit and not pedal. He said he bets he’s a much better rider than Gonpachiro.

“It’s my bike, Inosuke. That’s why.”

“You’re just afraid I’m better at bikes than you, Monjirou.”

Zenitsu once told him, back when they were young, that Inosuke would actually get their name right after seven tries. I counted, his blond friend would say, because he kept yelling at me and shoving worms and beetles and acorn nuts in my face. Tanjirou tried to keep track the first few months after knowing the dumb fact, but eventually grew tired counting the wrong names before he could hear the right one.

The burgundy-haired teenager squeezed on the breaks, the rubber tires squeaking against the asphalt. He then got off, and gestured for Inosuke to take the handlebar grip. “Pedal away, Inosuke-sama.”

“Ha!” His loud friend thumped his back, with the aggressiveness that would match his excessive energy. Tanjirou had to step a foot forward to stop himself from toppling over. “I knew choosing you as my favorite friend was the right decision!”

Tanjirou shook his head with a little laugh. “Oh, what an honor!”

“Stop daydreaming and get on already! I can’t wait to run Monitsu over!”

“Don’t do that Inosuke.” Tanjirou transferred his backpack to his front, facing the opposite direction, watching the hills roll as his friend pedalled vigorously downhill. He only realised his mistake when they zoomed past the gate of Zenitsu’s home. “Inosuke, stop! Don’t go too fast –“ Tanjirou looked back to see his blond friend getting smaller and smaller until he was just a tiny dot of yellow. “ – we’ve passed by Zenitsu’s house! Turned around!” He shouted over his shoulder, closer to his friend’s ear. “Inosuke! TURN AROUND!”

Without a warning, Inosuke swiveled a hundred and eighty degrees, not knowing he had almost threw Tanjirou off. The burgundy-haired miserable back rider yelped in surprise and fear for his life. But before he could complain, Inosuke started pedalling again with the same intensity, Tanjirou thought he would die on the ride back to where Zenitsu’s home is. Good thing his friend waved and jumped, catching Inosuke’s attention, and the boy squeezed on the break so hard they almost did a cartwheel with the bike.

Never again, Tanjirou thought, as he combed back his hair. I refuse to ride a bike with Inosuke ever again.

“Wow,” Zenitsu stared at the two of them from head to toe. “I’m surprised you didn’t get into an accident.”

“He’s a walking accident.” Tanjirou pointed at his friend who wore his favorite boar shirt. “I am not getting on a bike with you again.”

“Just admit I’m better than you!”

Zenitsu pushed the two of them inside before their pointless discussion lengthened, the three greeting grandpa Jigoro along the way. Soon they fell into a series of question and answer, index cards and flashcards flying across the room. Inosuke would constantly complain about math and why did he have to learn such useless things. Zenitsu would also complain about Inosuke’s complaints, but would snatch away the problem, solve it for the boy, and explain how he got 12 as the value of X.

“Uhhhh,” Tanjirou stretched his arms, arching his back to pop the joints as he stood from their table. “I’m going for a quick konbini run. Anything you guys want?”

“Didn’t you bring any snacks from the bakery?”

“We didn’t open today. Pa’s sick.”

“Onigiri and Nissin for me, Tontaro!”

“Same, but I want tamago sando instead of onigiri.”

“Then it’s not the same, stupid butter head!”

“Bold of you to call me stupid when you’re the walking definition of the word!”

Tanjirou didn’t want to witness the inevitable wrestling match to which Inosuke would mercilessly hug Zenitsu from the back to squeeze out his oxygen, so he excused himself without saying a word. He checked for his wallet before mounting his bike. He didn’t spot any konbini on the way, so he decided to try the opposite street so see if there’s a nearby store. To his luck, he saw the green and red signboard a couple of streets away.

He parked his bike on the sidewalk as he repeated his friends’ choice of snack over and over again to make sure he wouldn’t forget. He opted for a katsu sando and a bag of potato chips, carrying all the food he picked to the counter. Just as the girl behind the register dropped the change to his open hands, he caught a hauntingly familiar figure, through the glass walls of the konbini, with the identical black book held against his chest.

No way.

Yuu-chan?

He quickly grabbed the brown paper bag after throwing a hurried sankyu to the cashier , pushing the doors with his shoulder. He then left the bag on the basket of his bike, before taking off to run after his Yuu-chan. Why didn’t he take the bike instead, Tanjirou could no longer think rationally because he couldn’t believe he’s about to see Yuu’s after all these years.

Was his eyes playing tricks on him again?

Because there’s just no way the person he was made to believe wasn’t real and was just a part of his childhood imagination was actually there. He looked exactly the same; charcoal gray three piece suit, light blue dress shirt, and a navy blue necktie. Just like the spies from his Pa’s old movies he often dreamt about.

“Yuu-chan!” He could no longer contain his excitement, jumping on the back of the man when he was an arm length away. But Yuu quickly turned around, reached for his wrist, effortlessly twisting it in a quick, practiced movement. Tanjirou didn’t manage to introduce himself because his wrist hurt and was twisted in a very awkward way, he thought he might snap it any second. “Ow, ow, ow, ow! It’s me, Yuu-chan! It’s me! Ow!”

As quick as Yuu grabbed him, the man immediately let him go once recognition dawned on his face. “Tiny human?”

“Wow, you remembered me!” Tanjirou beamed, the same wide smile he wore the first time he met Yuu. He almost forgot about those periwinkle eyes and snow white skin as he tried to bury the memory of the day when Nishida-san succumbed to lung cancer. “I almost thought you weren’t real, like a story of make believe I came up with in a desperate attempt to make friends.” Yuu-chan looked away, and Tanjirou wished he could read whatever was on the man’s mind. “It’s been seven years, Yuu-chan.”

“I owe you no explanation, tiny human.” Yuu-chan continued to look away, his blue eyes never meeting Tanjirou’s burgundy ones. “I never agreed to being friends.”

“But you remembered me, big human.”

Yuu-chan flinched. “My work involves a lot of names, and a mistake would result in grave consequences.” The man tucked his book in his arm again, turning around to walk away. “Go home and stop following me.”

“You sound like you’re just making excuses!” Tanjirou continued to annoy the man, hoping to make him talk more because his voice was somehow calming. He didn’t know where the boldness came from, but before he could think, he reached for Yuu’s hands, cold as ever, and pulled him towards the empty bus stop across the street. It should have been strange, with the absence of people on the street and the silence in the air, but Tanjirou didn’t notice. “Come with me! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“What are you doing?” Yuu-chan gently freed his arm from Tanjirou, keeping it inside the pockets of his pants this time. “This is dangerous. Please keep your distance.”

“Why do you talk so formally, Yuu-chan? Come sit beside me!”

Tanjirou watched as the man glared at the innocent bench, burning holes in it as he considered his options. All the while Tanjirou’s wide grin never wavered, choosing to observe quietly as Yuu-chan argues with himself. The man looked like he never aged at all, like the past seven years were merely a week for him.

“You won’t stop until I indulge you, would you?”

“Nope!” Tanjirou bounced in his seat, grinning triumphantly.

“Fine.” Yuu-chan finally took a seat, a meter away from him. “But you shall not cross this distance.”

“What? Why? I’m not sick!” Tanjirou whined but immediately shut his mouth when Yuu glared at him. There was no hostility, but Yuu-chan has the ability to disappear from his sight, like how he did the past years, so Tanjirou chose not to push his luck further and truly anger the man. “Alright, no need to kill me with you eyes. Very pretty eyes I must say.”

Tanjirou’s throat tightened, and if he was standing, his knees would have buckled from the intensity of Yuu’s eyes. At first he thought the man didn’t like praises, didn’t like talking to him, but he continued staring. Tanjirou, unsure on what to do, chose not to meet Yuu’s eyes as he tried his best not to crumble because the weight of his stare makes the burgundy-haired boy melt.

To his surprise, Yuu, who was so adamant to observe distance, pushed against the metal bench and stood in front of him. Tanjirou raised his head to look at him, but Yuu-chan’s cold fingers brushed against his forehead. Chilly wind blew past them, causing strands of burgundy hairs to fall, but the cold fingers were there to brush them back up. Tanjirou couldn’t help but shiver, due to the wind or the cold skin, he couldn’t tell.

“Is there something wrong?” He managed to ask even when the chill he felt crept up from his lungs to his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

“This,” Yuu ran the pad of his thumb over the mark, twice, before tracing the outlines. “Was this always here? I didn’t – “ He stammered, as if he couldn’t make a sentence out of his train of thought. “ – seven years ago – “

“Oh, this?” Tanjirou instinctively reached up, not expecting a cold hand meeting his own where his sturdy forehead should be. “It had been there as far as I can remember. It just got bigger as I grew older. Seven years ago, it was just this tiiiiiiny thing, you could have mistaken it for a scar.”

He heard the blue-eyed man, who was acting so strange that day, mumbled something under his breath. It was so soft, Tanjirou could have heard three different languages, because even when there were no cars, no people around, he still didn’t understand the incoherence mumbling. Tough luck, for he has lost his gift of keen nose after turning ten, so he has absolutely no idea what this strangeness was all about.

“Does it hurt?” he heard Yuu-chan ask as he pulled his cold fingers away. But he didn’t step back to create a meter of distance again, much to Tanjirou’s delight. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really, no,” he bit his lip, recalling a stupid myth Zenitsu recounted once when they were nine. “They said birthmarks were signs of how a person died in his past life, but that just sounds silly to me.”

Tanjirou looked up, hoping to see Yuu share his opinion about the absurdity of the myth. But he only saw anxious eyes which couldn’t meet his, lips flattened into a straight line, brows furrowed. “Sometimes, old stories passed down with words of mouth would hide a truth or two.”

“Are you telling me - ” Tanjirou’s voice climbed a pitch higher, trying to suppress his laughter after considering that he had a life before this. “ – that I died from a blunt force trauma to the head in my past life? Was I murdered?”

“Don’t be silly,” Tanjirou wanted to scoff because Yuu-chan dared call him silly when he was just spouting nonsense about old stories and hidden truths a minute ago. “Besides, is that your only birthmark?”

Immediately Tanjirou crossed arms over his chest, balling the shirt he wore with his hidden palms. He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t spooked at Yuu-chan’s question, because he sounded like an honestly curious man, but his instinct pushed him to cross his arms over his chest where a different set of marks hide. “How did you know about that?”

“Know about what?” Yuu asked back, and Tanjirou couldn’t determine if he was feigning ignorance. “I was just asking.”

Tanjirou gulped the knot on his throat, suddenly feeling stupid about his fascination with his own birthmarks. Science has explanations for these, there must be, so he shouldn’t be bothered by Yuu-chan’s vagueness or Zenitsu’s old stories. He was about to ask the man where he went and why he didn’t see him again, but Yuu was suddenly flipping a page of the book he was carrying over and over again. “What are you doing, Yuu-chan? Looking for something?” Tanjirou tried to peek at the pages, but Yuu-chan pivoted his body around to keep the book out of his sight. “I can help?”

“This is strange.” Yuu flipped the page again like he was trying to see if flipping back and forth would make a change to what was already written in the book. Tanjirou wanted to laugh at Yuu-chan’s endless turning of the page, but the man seemed troubled. “How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?” He was never proud of his nosiness, but it was harmless, he thought. He just wanted to help and stop Yuu-chan from tearing the poor page out of the book. The same book, with three blue lines spreading out horizontally, he was carrying back then.

“I was here to collect, ” Yuu shut the book close, tucking it under his arm once again. “But it seemed I was mistaken. I need to go.”

Collect? Like Nishida-san? Tanjirou wanted to ask, but such things weren’t easy to explain, and he wasn’t even sure he was ready to accept Yuu-chan’s secret, if there is one. He chose not to define who Yuu is, all that matters is that he was there again, talking to him, no longer ignoring him.

Tanjirou knew Yuu was going to disappear again. To where, he had no idea, but at least now, he was sure Yuu wasn’t just a part of his imagination. He felt him, his cold touch, his intense stare. Yet he couldn’t help but feel lonely for no reason at all. “Will I see you again?”

“Perhaps,” was Yuu-chan’s answer which offered no comfort to the boy. Perhaps could mean another seven years, or never again. Perhaps isn’t a guaranteed yes, sounding more like a gentle no. “These meetings wouldn’t benefit the both of us, and could put you in danger. Think of it as breaking the law, tiny human.”

Because more spies will be watching. This he knew, after seeing crisps suits blending in the crowds, peach hair and platinum, purple and aqua eyes. Yet he pulled Yuu to an embrace, burying his face on the folds of his three piece suit. “I stopped dreaming about you. For reasons unknown to me, I kept seeing you in my dreams when I’m running a fever. But when you disappeared, the dreams went away too.”

Yuu removed his arms around his waist, Tanjirou already missing the coldness that seemed to come from every part of Yuu’s skin. He couldn’t read his expression again, but he didn’t expect anything more from the strange man. He speaks vaguely, dresses the same, never aged, so his expressionless face was the least of Tanjirou’s concerns.

“Stay healthy, tiny human.”

Tanjirou snorted at Yuu’s choice of response, turning back to where he left his bike at the konbini. He didn’t want to say goodbye, even when he knew that perhaps he wouldn’t see Yuu-chan again. So he continued walking even when he didn’t hear the man move from his place, because he has his hungry friends waiting for him.

He looked back, hoping to see Yuu watching him leave and walk away.

But like how he disappeared seven years ago, the man was suddenly gone, like he wasn’t even there a minute ago.

He rode his bike back to Zenitsu’s home in a bleary state. Thanks to the numerous trips he made to his blond friend’s house, he found his way even when he didn’t even remember pedalling. He couldn’t feel his legs, his head buzzed, his fingers numb. He recalled grandpa Jigoro asking him what’s wrong and why he looked so pale, before seeing Inosuke’s worried face rushing to him as he slumped against the nearest wall.

He black out a moment after that.

I kept seeing you in my dreams when I’m running a fever.

“That’s not it,” Giyuu sighed, finding it hard to breathe as he watched Tanjirou stumble out of his bike, pushing the gate of his friend’s house with all his strength. That was his fault, for he couldn’t help himself, even when he promised not to bring harm to the beautiful soul again. “It was the other way around. You get fevers because of your dreams.”

“Who are you talking to?” came a voice behind him, but Giyuu didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Instead, he walked towards the gate of Kuwajima Jigoro’s humble home. He pushed it open, stepping into the other side where his office was. Sabito came in after him, shutting the metal door. “You were supposed to collect a soul today, Giyuu.”

“Who are you, my assistant? So what’s my next schedule?” Giyuu dragged a chair to the table in the middle of the wide room, the only furniture present. His office, much like the others in his line of work, was a high-ceiling room, with a tiled countertop where he prepares teas, coffees, sometimes even sodas, for the souls he brings to the Choosing.

Sabito hauled a tea bag at him, hitting Giyuu on his head, flakes of the dried leaves scattering in his suit. “I wish your brain was sharper than your tongue!”

Giyuu clicked said tongue, wanting to agree because he admits his earlier actions were not well thought out. How could he let a human touch him? How could he not say no, only because those burgundy eyes kept haunting him?

“Kuwajima Jigoro should have died today.” Giyuu pressed his fingers between his eyes, already feeling the early signs of migraine, still wondering what and how it happened because he wasn’t mistaken; he never made mistakes in his job. “I saw his name. It was cardiac arrest.”

“Were you on time?”

He shouldn’t be answering such silly questions. “You know I was never late, Sabito.”

“Were you,” His peach-haired friend sipped on the tea he brewed, holding Giyuu’s periwinkle eyes in an intense stare. “on time, Giyuu?”

Okay, so there was no use lying, and he sincerely believed the slight delay couldn’t hinder death that was already written in the book. He would be guilty if Kuwajima Jigoro’s name was there and that death had simply taken a detour due to his tardiness, but the name was completely gone. Erased, with no sign that it was there before Giyuu left his office, which it definitely was. “I may have been late by a couple of minutes. But it shouldn’t matter because the time of death is absolute even when no collector is present to – “

Sudden realization dawned on Sabito’s face that he was momentarily stuck with his jaw dropping to the floor, and a look of complete disbelief in his eyes. “You talked to a human again, did you? What were you thinking? Were you even using your head like you’re supposed to?”

“He jumped on me from behind! He recognized me-“

“Oh no,” Sabito took the chair opposite him, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He catches his head in his hand, murmuring curses at Giyuu’s stupidity. “It was the same human back then. The human with the gift of Sight. Oh no.”

Giyuu nodded, feeling incredibly frustrated with his inability to follow the rules. “Seven years ago.”

“That was already seven years ago? Yet he still remembered you?”

Giyuu nodded once again, not finding the words to defend himself from Sabito’s unabashed judgment. He couldn’t blame his friend and fellow collector for reacting the way he did, because they weren’t Divines with blessed holiness, nor humans with free will. They were just reapers, tasked to guide souls to the afterlife where they could exercise their freedom to choose one last time and help them decide what they want their fate to be.

He wasn’t human, therefore he doesn’t have the same freedom.

Even if he wanted to see Burgundy Eyes again, not only on the times he was dying, he simply couldn’t choose to do what he wanted.

The clanking of the Sabito’s teacup on the saucer shook Giyuu out of his silent dilemma. His peach-haired friend frowned, the scar on his face more prominent as he pursed his lips in frustration. He once asked the man about his facial scar, which they both agreed seemed to be a birthmark, but Sabito couldn’t recall how and when he acquired it.

“You can’t keep doing this, Giyuu.” Sabito sighed, tracing the patterned yellow and green lines of his own book sitting on the table. “We didn’t know, we may never know, how our presence affects living souls. I’m sure you’ve heard of the myths.”

“I have, but they’re just myths.” Like those about birthmarks, and Giyuu suddenly found himself with the realization that if the myths of men were real, then there’s a chance the myths of the reapers of the old were real too. “No,” he hunched over the table, burying his face in his folded arms. “I messed up. What if – “ Giyuu raised his head, the frantic look in those periwinkle eyes making Sabito flinched. “What if Kuwajima Jigoro’s death took a turn and – “

Sabito reached for his head, shaking it vigorously in an attempt to rattle his brain. Giyuu groaned at the harshness, but was thankful for the distraction. “Don’t think too much of it, Giyuu. If something was indeed wrong, you should have heard from Yorichii-san by now.”

“I swear the name was there!” Giyuu flipped his book open again, trying so hard to prove he was simply mistaken so he could step out of his door to collect the soul. But he couldn’t find the name, couldn’t find the reason why it would just disappear when death was something no one could hinder. Not even the Divines could defy death if They deemed it to be the right time to take back the gift of life They bestowed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tan – “

“Don’t speak of his name!” Sabito abruptly stood, his chair tripping over. His booming shriek effectively stopped Giyuu’s string of apologies. “Don’t make another mistake, Giyuu. Remember who we are, and what we bring. Don’t.”

Giyuu understood, for there is a reason souls should only see them after passing.

There is a reason he should never let Tanjirou see him again.

For he brings nothing but death.

Tanjirou should have known.

He tried to whisper, sometimes in his pillow before he sleeps, a wish to see Yuu in his dreams again. But he never had bad fevers again, never got the chance to see the man turn his nightmares into sweet stupor.

He tried to whisper, against the glass pane of the train as it whirred and swayed, words of intercession and petition, begging for a chance to see Yuu once again.

He tried to whisper his name, trying to call for him to come and explain, to let him know that he doesn’t care what he is, to finally understand why he can’t get Yuu out of his system, even after trying to make himself believe the man with the sky in his eyes isn’t real. He wanted to ask him why it felt like Yuu knew him longer than he should have, the same way he felt strangely familiar even when he only met him twice.

Tanjirou should have known that perhaps meant an empty promise, a parting word disguised as an assurance that he will see Yuu again.

For after he touched him with his cold fingers and reached for the scars he was born with, he never saw Yuu again.

#giyuutan #kny fanfic #grim reaper au #reincarnation au #demon slayer #tomioka giyuu #kamado tanjirou

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

Text

Traditions of the Court

Fandom: Criminal Minds (Royalty AU)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You grew up around Spencer, since his mom was your teacher growing up. You two grow up together and he ends up taking his mother’s place, while you become ready to become Queen. But what’s to happen when you and he realize that you have feelings for each other?

A/N: this is like 3.5k words because I didn’t feel like breaking it up into chapters. Anyway, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

“But mother-”

“No, Y/N. You need to attend your classes like everyone else. Just because you’re the princess, doesn’t mean you can’t get an education like the other children in the court.”

You groan as you drag yourself into the library where several other children of royal court members are. Mrs. Reid’s face lightens up when she sees you, “Y/N, dear! Wonderful! We’re just about to start! Take any available seat and we’ll get started.”

You sigh as you trudge over to an empty seat near the back next to a boy who doesn’t look like a he’d be a child of the court, “Who’re you?” the young boy is startled when you address him and pushes his glasses up his nose, “I’m, um, Spencer. Spencer Reid. My mom’s the teacher.”

“Are you even allowed to be here?”

He nodded, “Yes, uh, the Queen, your mother, said it was alright. Do-Do you want me to move, Princess Y/N?”

You sigh and shake your head, “No, it’s okay. And you can just call me, Y/N.”

“Oh, okay, Y/N.” Spencer mumbles and goes to pay attention to his mother’s instructions. Throughout class, he sees you looking sad, dejected. So while his mother is helping another student, he leans over, “Are you okay?”

You shrug, “Not really fond of going to class.”

“How come?”

“I don’t think it’s very interesting. I’d rather be learning how to defend myself with my father and the Royal Guards.”

“Well, if you’re going to be queen someday, it’s important for you to know this stuff. The geography of our kingdoms and surrounding kingdoms, the history of our country and your family, how to speak publically, appear proper, all of that stuff.”

You look at him a little confused, “You’re not even a court member’s child. Why are you here? It’s not important for you.”

He shrugged, “I like to learn new things, plus, I’ll be taking over teaching when my mom gets too old. So it’s better to learn stuff now rather than later. I remember all kinds of stuff.”

You hummed, looking down at the books in front of you, “Think you can help me then? Since all of this isn’t my kind of thing?”

“S-Sure.”

It was during class and the extra tutoring on the side that you and Spencer ended up getting close. From when you were seven year olds up to when you were eighteen, he’d been by your side. He’d read while you attended your fencing and archery lessons. He’d wait for you while you shadowed your parents during court meetings. He was there when your father died due to an unknowing heart attack. He was there for it all until...

“You’re leaving me?” you looked at him with saddened eyes.

“It’ll only be for a few years. I want to travel around and learn as much as I can before I come back and take my mother’s place as the court’s educator.” his hands rest on your shoulders and you look down in solemn, “It’s not forever, Y/N.”

“But we’re always together, Spence. You’ve been there for everything and-and-”

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks softly. You look up at him and he asks again, “Y/N, do you want me to stay? If you do, then I’ll stay.” you search his eyes and see that he’s completely serious. But you also see the yearning in his eyes, the need to explore and learn more.

“I do, but I won’t ask you to say. I can’t be selfish with you, Spencer.” you sigh and choke back a sob, “You’ll write to me, right?”

“Every chance I get,” he says with a smile and he pulls you into a hug, “I’ll miss you, Y/N.”

You hug him back with a sigh, “I’ll miss you too, Spencer.”

3 Years Later

Spencer leans against the carriage watching landscape and farmlands pass by. It’s been seen he’s left his home. In the three years he’s earned higher levels of education, learned so many new things, met so many new people. And then when his three years was up, he was going back home.

He was so anxious to be home again. In a good way and a bad way. Good because he gets to see his mother again, bad because, well, he’ll be seeing you again.

Within his first year abroad, you and Spencer exchanged letters. When the second year rolled around, the letters lessened. Eventually, the third year, he received no word from you. He didn’t know if something happened or if you just no longer wanted to keep contact. Either way, he didn’t send a letter back to you, not wanting to be a nuisance.

Growing up by your side, a love blossomed within Spencer. A love for you. Yes, you struggled with your lessons, but the more Spencer helped, the more you were able to get it. Eventually, you didn’t need him to tutor you anymore, but you still wanted him around. You two played with each other, read in the library. You tried to teach him fencing, but that didn’t go well. Despite your differences, you found friendship within one another. And for Spencer, he found love.

He was fourteen when he realized he loved you. You and he were in the gardens. He sat under a tree reading while you went around collecting flowers. He didn’t look up until he heard you giggling.

He saw the mischievous look in your eyes, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing. I have a gift for you.”

“What is it?” from behind your back, you pulled out a flower crown you’ve woven together of branches and flowers, “That’s for me?”

“Yup!” you bend down to rest it on his head, “There. You’re the king of the gardens now!” you giggled, sitting beside him and resting along the trunk of the tree.

Spencer looks to you and he feels his breath hitch when he sees that soft smile on your lips. You looked so pretty, so happy. He imagined leaning in and kissing you, but that wasn’t right. You’re the princess and he’s just the son of your teacher. You could never be.

From then on, despite his ever growing love for you, he kept his feelings hidden. And it broke his heart when he told you that he was leaving. It broke his heart even more when you stopped exchanging letters with him.

But all of that must be pushed aside. He has a job to do now.

__________

“This is so unnecessary,” you groan at the big poofy dress you were currently trying on. Your friends, Emily and Jennifer, or as she liked to be referred to as JJ, both snicker at you, “Tradition is tradition,” Emily jests and you roll your eyes.

“Once I’m queen, to Hell with tradition,” you grumble, causing your friends to snicker more, “No more poofy dressed or corsets forced upon me or any lady of the court!” Your bedroom doors swing open and you dive behind the changing screen with a yelp. You peek from behind and see Penelope rushing in.

“Oh, it’s you, Penelope,” you step out from behind the changing screen.

Penelope practically stumbles over to you, slightly out of breath, “I-I-You-You need to-” she stops, clutching her sides, “Hold on,” you, Emily, and JJ smirk at each other in amusement and Penelope straightens up, “You will not believe who I saw!”

“Do tell, my analyst friend.”

“Spencer Reid!” she exclaimed with a squeal.

Emily and JJ sat up, “Spencer Reid? As in our teacher’s son?” JJ asked.

“The Spencer who attended lessons with us and the one that Y/N was sooo in love with when we were children?”

You scowled at your friends, marching over to your bed and whacking them with your pillow, “I wasn’t in love with him!”

“Yes, you were!” the three women, proceeding to giggle at your frown.

“Whatever! We haven’t exchanged letters within a year and a half. I don’t owe him my presence and I don’t expect him wanting to see me.”

Your door begins to open again and, with another yelp, you dive back behind the changing screen.

You hear your mother’s voice as she greets the three ladies in your room and then she addresses you, “How does the gown fit, Y/N?”

You frown when you come out from behind the screen once more, “I hate it.”

“As did I when I was your age.”

“So why do I have to wear it?!”

Your mother sighs and shakes her head, “Y/N, this dress has been passed down for decades. Many women from the royal family wore this dress on their twenty-first birthday. It has a special significance in this family. And since you’re part of this family, you’re wearing it.”

You mumble out a, “Fine,” and your mother nods, “Perfect. Now change out of that and hang it. Also, someone would like to see you in the gardens. Don’t keep them waiting.”

Your mother leaves and once she’s gone, Emily, JJ, and Penelope help you out of your gown and corset.

_____________

Spencer has never felt so unsure about himself. Despite your lack of contact, he never once stopped thinking about you, never stopped caring about you. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have requested your presence at all. He slips your birthday present back into his satchel and he’s ready to leave, but he hears your voice and it makes him freeze.

“You requested to see me, sir?”

He turns around and he’s taken back. In the three years he’s been away, you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman. The day that your day gown hangs around your body, the way that the sunlight hits your skin, it creates this glow about you that makes you seem...ethereal.

“S-Spencer,” you practically whisper.

He approaches you but still keeps some distance away, “Hi, um, Y/N-Princess-Princess Y/N?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Y/N is still fine, Spencer.”

“Oh. Okay, um,” he opens his satchel and digs out your present, “Happy birthday.” he holds it out and you see that it’s a book with a ribbon of your favorite color wrapped around it.

You take it, undoing the ribbon and flipping open the book. You see Spencer handwriting and your name written out - Dear Y/N...

You flip through other pages, seeing your name at the header and he proceeds to tell you what he’s done throughout his day, what he’s learned. You see little doodles, pressed leaves and flowers within the pages.

You close the book and look back at Spencer, “What is this?”

“After our letters stopped, I-I don’t know-I felt the need to continue to write to you so I started a journal. Telling you everything about my time away from home.”

“Why?”

“...Because I missed you.”

“If you missed me, you shouldn’t have stopped writing me back.”

Spencer looks at you with confusion, “I didn’t stop writing you back. You stopped writing me back!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did! I sent two or three letters within weeks of each other and I never heard a word back! You just stopped replying!”

“Princess Y/N,” you look back to see Lady Strauss looking at you with a stern gaze, “You’re needed at court.”

You clench your jaw and look back to Spencer, “I need to go,” you push the book back to Spencer and pick up your gown, walking away from him. You pass Lady Strauss with a nod and she watches you head to the court room.

Lady Strauss then turns to Spencer, “Know your place, boy. She’s a princess. You’re a teacher. You’re from two different worlds. It’s not meant to be.” with that, the older woman leaves, leaving Spencer to feel confused and dejected.

____________

“The audacity of him!” you gasp when your handmaidens pull at the strings of your corset, “He really thinks that I stopped replying to his letters? Why would I? How could I? And erase our years of friendship together? I can’t believe him!” you gasp again and your maidens apologize, “It’s alright. These things are just....horrendous,” you grumble.

It took hours to get you ready for your birthday ball, but you were ready. You waited for everyone to enter the ballroom, standing by your mother’s side. This was supposed to be a happy event, but you just felt so sad and angry.

“Smile, darling. It’s a joyous occasion,” your mother mumbles before the doors swing open for you two to enter the ballroom. You put on a fake smile and entered the room, everyone bowing as you passed them.

“Everyone, please enjoy yourselves!” your mother announced. The band started up again and you immediately went for some wine.

“Already?” you hear as you gulp down an entire glass. You turn to see JJ and Emily smirking at you.

You roll your eyes, “I’ve had a long day.”

“So...how was seeing Spencer again?” JJ asked with a smirk and you narrowed your eyes at her, “What? Word travels fast!”

You took another glass of wine, gulping that down, “I swear, Jennifer, you’ll turn out to be likes these gossiping hags,” you muttered, causing Emily to burst into laughter.

“If it wasn’t your birthday, Y/N, I would pour wine over that hideous dress.”

“Please, do.”

You smile at your best friends as you hook your arms around theirs, “Now let’s go mingle, ladies.”

______________

After dinner, your mother stood up, wine glass in hand, “Everyone. I’d like to thank you again for coming tonight to celebrate my Y/N’s twenty-first birthday. Not only does this year signify you finally becoming a woman, Y/N, it also means that this will be the year that you will find a husband.” you nervously gulp as your mother raises her glass up, everyone, including you, doing the same.

“To Princess Y/N!”

Like earlier before, you gulped down your wine, excusing yourself for some air. You move to a balcony that overlooks the kingdom. The cool air refreshes your face. The music and festivities continue inside while you’re trying to calm yourself outside.

“Are you okay?” you jump, hearing a sudden voice.

You look over your shoulder to see Spencer. He’s in a white button-up with black slacks. It’s not as luxurious as what the other men are wearing inside, but you had admit he still looks good.

You look back out to the kingdom when you ask, “What are you doing here? I don’t recall you being invited.”

“My mom was invited and I’m her plus one,” he states as he joins you at the stone railing of the balcony. He lets out a deep breath and rests his drink onto the platform, “What happened to us, Y/N?”

“You stopped-”

“I didn’t. But apparently neither did you, so it begs the question: who stopped our letters from reaching each other?”

“Princess Y/N,” you both turn around to see Lady Strauss, “You should really be mingling with your guests inside instead of this peasant boy.”

Spencer’s jaw clenches and nose flares in anger. For the second time today, Lady Strauss has interrupted you both and has insulted Spencer. Again, you excuse yourself from Spencer’s presence.

“What did I say-”

“She looked upset. I was just checking on her, that’s it,” he sneers and moves to leave, but Lady Strauss grabs him tightly by the wrist, “Stay away from her, boy. You can never be together. What do you have to offer her? A sickly mother and an annoying array of knowledge? You have nothing to provide for a princess. So whatever silly feelings you had for her growing up, get rid of them,” she sneers and let’s go of his wrist.

Spencer rubs his wrist as he goes back to his mother. How does Lady Strauss know so much about him?

________________

Spencer allowed his mother to continue teaching until the end of the month. In the meantime, he’d be refreshing up on information in another part of the library, while also doing a secret project on the side. The librarian and historical analyst, Penelope, aided him whenever he needed. Penelope had a certain set of skills that were very helpful on finding certain information.

“So what Sir Derek from the Royal Guards told me that he heard from Lady Emily that she heard from Lady JJ that she-”

“Penelope-”

“Right! So, Strauss assigned some men to interfere with your letters. According to whoever our sources may be, she didn’t like how you two got very close, thus ruining her plans of getting our dearest princess wedded to her son.”

“It was her behind this all along. That-That-That hag! Because of her, I’ve lost my friendship with Y/N and now I may never get to tell her how I really feel!”

“Well, my knowledgeable friend, our dear princess will be coming in soon to read to some of the court’s children. You can tell her then!”

Spencer liked the idea but he shook his head, “I can’t. Despite my anger towards Lady Strauss, she’s right. Y/N and I are from two different worlds. If she did return my affections and we did end up together, I’m to be king alongside her. I’m not king material, Penelope.”

The analyst shrugged, “You’re kind, loyal, caring, logical, strategic. Sounds like a king to me.”

“But I can’t protect the kingdom if need be. I never found interest in swordfighting or archery.”

“Y/N does, so that means you don’t need to worry about that.”

“But still Y/N. I’m...I’m not enough.”

“Let me decide on that,” Spencer heard your voice and looked up to see you standing there some distance away.

“Y/N!” he stood up abruptly, “I-uh-”

“Uuuuhhh coming!” Penelope cried out and scrambled away from the two of you.

You slowly approached him and he gulped, “H-How much of that did you hear?”

“Which part? The part about Lady Strauss being a scheming hag? Or the part about you having affections for me and being afraid that I won’t return the sentiment?”

“Y/N-”

“I was so heartbroken when your letters stopped coming in. I thought-I thought you no longer wanted to speak to me, that you found comfort in someone else. I loved you and I felt my heart shatter when I didn’t hear a peep from you. And now it turns out that one of my mother’s advisors was behind my heartbreak and not you. It’s...overwhelming.”

“You loved me?” Spencer asked in disbelief and you nodded, “I thought it was obvious, honestly. How I always wanted to spend time you, how I barely entertained being the presence of other boys.”

“I thought it was because we were best.”

“No, it was because I loved you. And seeing you again on my birthday, despite me being upset with you, everything came rushing back. I don’t think I ever really stopped loving you, Spencer.”

“Neither did I,” he breathed out, hands coming up to cup your face, “May I-May I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in for your lips to meet his. The kiss was soft and gentle and everything you always imagined a first kiss to be.

When you both pull away for air, you’re both smiling and chuckling, relishing the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

“Marry me,” he murmurs.

“What?”

“We’ve loved each other since we were children. And I can’t promise that I will be a good king, but I’m willing to learn to be, as long as you’re by my side.”

“Do you mean it?” you ask with such elatedness.

He nods, “Yes. So, will you?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes, I will marry you!” you kiss him again, but pull back with a gasp, “What will my mother say?”

“She will say that you have her blessing,” you see your mother standing there beside a nervous Penelope.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Y/N. She was looking for you and she’s the queen and I didn’t think you two would be-well-”

You chuckle out, “It’s okay, Penelope.”

Your mother walks towards the both of you, hands clasped in front of her, “I always knew you two were meant for each other, ever since you were children. It doesn’t surprise me that you love each other and want to be with one another.” she has a fond smile on her face as she glances down at your intertwined hands.

“You really give us your blessing, mother? Even if Spencer isn’t part of the court?”

“Well, you always said that some traditions need to die out. Might as well start now,” she smiles widely and you throw your arms around her, whispering, “Thank you.”

_______________

Months later into the year, you’re standing beside Spencer wearing a beautiful red and gold dress while he stands before you wearing the most regal uniform you’ve ever seen. Your wedding, a month previous to this, was a beautiful one filled with love, tears, and kisses.

The officiant holds out the crown above you, “I now pronounce you Queen Y/N and King Spencer. Long live the king and queen!”

With crowns donning your hands, you and Spencer stand, hand in hand, while everyone proclaims, “Long live the king and queen!”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds au #royalty au

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Finding A Light // Final Part

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: New beginnings are made and the future is looking up for the two of you.

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of food, fluff, kisses

A/N: Thank you for all the love you’ve given for this series! I had so much fun creating it and I’m so glad you all have enjoyed it!!

Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four

(not my gif)

1 Year Later

A dusting of powdery snow had been fluttering down from the sky, coating everything it could land on in a layer of sparkling white. Christmas was perhaps the most enchanting time of year at Hogwarts, the snow gathering on the grand castle paired with the lavish decorations creating a wonderland. Hogsmeade wasn’t any less enthralling, however, the glowing lanterns casting a warm glow on the cozy little village that was bustling with holiday cheer. Shimmering tinsel and garlands swirled around every lamppost, holiday cheer buzzing through the air from the bundled up students walking about. A rather large tree had stood tall at the center of it all, ornaments of varying shapes and sizes thoughtfully placed around the magically illuminated greenery.

It was hard to take your eyes off of, though Ron found it hard to take his eyes off of you.

You pulled your gaze away from the window, catching glimpse of the blue eyes not so secretly lingering on you. A smile tugged at your lips as Ron flushed a soft pink, looking to his side as he brushed the hair out of his face.

“I’m convinced you’ll never be discreet when you’re staring, Love,” you say with a laugh, watching as he turned his head to face you, so fast his hair fell back in his eyes.

“I was not staring!” He defends, too quick for it to be truthful, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain from smiling.

You tilt your head to the side as you narrow your eyes at him playfully and he looks down at his hands. “I felt your eyes on me the moment I looked away, Ron.”

He glanced up at you through ginger lashes and squinted for a moment, stirring his spoon around in his tea as he accepted his defeat. You smile triumphantly as you dipped your fork in his cake, taking a contented bite.

“Well, I’m convinced you love to pick on me,” he quips as he rests his chin in his palm, raising a brow at you while you laugh.

“I’d say you’re right.”

He frowns momentarily before you reach over the small table and tap your finger on the very tip of his nose. His smile was instant as he stole your fork, though really it had been his, taking a bite of his chocolate cake. Icing had inevitably accumulated at the corner of his mouth and now you had reason to kiss it off, you’d always wanted to for longer than you cared to admit.

When you pull away, a deeper blush stained his cheeks as he smiled down at his plate somewhat bashfully, pushing his dessert around as butterflies bounced around in his stomach. He’s quite sure you’ll have this affect on him for the rest of his life.

“So, uh, we’re having my family over for Christmas, yeah?” He asks, anything to redirect your attention to something other than how flustered you make him.

“Yeah! We need to head to Honeydukes and buy some sweets for everyone, your mother loved those chocolates we got the last time.”

He nods, watching you with a fluttering heart as you get excited about your plans for the following week. He feels he’ll never grow tired of admiring you, no matter how much you tease him for it. You just had a way of enchanting him more than any love spell he was put under in his teens. Perhaps it was the way you made it feel like he was the only one in the room when you talked to him. Maybe it was the way every kiss felt like the very first you shared that night on your doorstep, every touch setting his skin ablaze. In his love-clouded distraction, his eyes wander upwards, catching glimpse of the mistletoe Madam Puddifoot hung over the table. He’d been eying it ever since the two of you got there. The corners of his mouth immediately turned up as he beamed at you.

“What is it?” You question, raising your brow in amused curiosity as you trail off in your rambling about your holiday dinner plans.

He reaches up and jingles the mistletoe that dangles over your heads as an invitation, and he laughs softly. “I think this means you’ve got to kiss me now, Love.”

You laugh at his as you break his gaze momentarily to keep from flushing as red as the table cloth. But when you turn back to him his stare is much softer as he looks at you. Then you lean forward, lips pressing to his in a kiss tasting of chocolate cake and tea.

“How long have you known that was there?” You ask with a quiet laugh.

“If I told you only just now, would you kiss me again?”

You pretend to take his question into consideration, tapping your finger to your lips as you ponder. Though it wasn’t long before you pecked his lips once more, for kissing him was something that didn’t need second thought.

“We’d better get to the shop before everyone’s bought up all the good stuff,” you say, reluctantly pulling away from him and slipping on your coat with a sigh. Of course, all you really wanted to do was keep kissing him for the entirety of that day, but you suppose that could wait for later.

He nods in agreement as he slides on his flannel jacket, zipping it up before reaching for your hand in habit. The cold weather nipped against your skin the moment you left the tea shop, delicate flurries of snow immediately catching in your hair. Laughter rung out through the village as you walked along in a comfortable silence, enveloped hands swinging lightly between you.

His hand squeezes yours ever so slightly as he hums, keeping you close to his side as if to keep you from getting too cold. With the way he’d warmed your heart, you think it’s enough to protect you. You reach your other hand up to wrap around his arm, leaning up and kissing his cheek sweetly. You missed the way he smiled down at you, and you missed the puffs of air leaving his lips as he exhaled a breathy laugh. But he hadn’t missed the way you smiled at your feet and laughed a little.

“What?” He inquires in amusement.

“Nothing,” you shrug. “Just in love is all.”

1 Week Later

Ron had been rather groggy that morning, unwilling to release you from his grip as he burrowed his face deeper into the crook of your neck. The dull scent of your perfume still lingered there, doing a satisfactory job at grasping his attention. The rain trickled steadily down the chilled windowpanes one after another, the gloomy weather making it all the more enticing to stay tucked within the warmth of the bed with the love of your life but your plans for the day had insisted otherwise. It was the first time Ron’s family would be seeing your shared cottage.

It was a cozy little place nestled amongst others, though no two were ever alike. The moment you had found it, the decision was one that wasn’t hard to make. It was absolutely perfect for you both. Built from beige stone slabs and slate shingles, flowers littered the perimeter and sprouted in the lawn. A weathered white fence surrounded it, your address painted on it in metallic copper paint. Within it held layers of flannel blankets and bookshelves full of old books and framed pictures, mismatched furniture and unpolished candelabras with melted candles of varying heights. Enchanted clocks hang on the walls and the fireplace is almost always burning, casting a constant warm glow wherever it reached.

It was a culmination of you both and you were quite sure you could spend the rest of your life there with him. Well, to put it quite simply, he was. He didn’t even try to hide it at this point, too tired and too in love to.

“Love, we’ve got to get up now. Your family is coming over, you know,” you say softly, running your fingers through his tangled hair. A shiver runs across your skin as his fingertips trace invisible shapes along your hip, soon to be followed by quiet snores once again as his hand stills. “Ron!”

His arm tightens around your waist as he makes a failed attempt to lift his head and look at you, his nose brushing along the skin of your neck. He gave up his efforts with ease and kisses your jaw blindly, a quiet groan leaving his lips before he yawns.

“But sunshine, I don’t want to,” He mumbles in disagreement, tangling his legs with yours. “Five more minutes?”

You found it rather hard to ignore the gruffness of his voice as his words vibrate against your skin, a soft blush staining your cheeks that you were grateful he hadn’t been able to see. He rolled onto his back, pulling you with him and you immediately curl against him despite the very obvious need to get out of bed. The warmth of his arms and softness of his kisses was just intoxicating enough for you to stay put for just a little longer.

“You said that an hour ago,” you giggle, the sound causing a sleepy grin to pull at his lips. You found yourself staring; at the way his nose curved upwards, at the remnants his smile on his pink lips, at the way his ginger lashes splay across the very tops of his cheeks. Even more distracting was the light smattering of freckles across his skin, each one cuter than the last. You had to bring yourself to look away before your gazing was noticed. “If we wait any longer they just might burst through the door.”

He turns his head to look at you, his eyes bouncing across every inch of your face as if to memorize every feature he loved so very much. You came into his life rather ungracefully and full of sweets, and you’ve taken up residence in his mind every single day since then. It seems only fair that he gazes at you without the need to be discreet at this point. Maybe he was also stalling to get you to stay in bed a bit longer too.

He protests the moment he felt you slip from his arms, brows knit together under utterly unruly ginger hair. You raise a brow at him as you cross your arms over your chest, watching as he sits up and pouts his lips ever so slightly in hint of what he’d so clearly been wanting.

It was next to impossible to resist it, though you did roll your eyes as you padded over to him and kissed him sweetly. He lingered over your lips as a soft smile pulled at his own, his nose brushing against yours. Though Ron Weasley was too predictable for you, a laugh leaving your lips as you spin away from him before he could pull you back down.

“See you downstairs,” You call over your shoulder. Ron sighs with a fond smile, rubbing his hands over his face before finding the energy to get out of bed for the day.

He met you downstairs still not having changed from his pajamas, which had only been a sweater and his underwear, his hair still the tangled mop it had been moments before. His lips press gently to your hair in greeting as he passes by you on the way to the coffee pot, smiling delightedly upon seeing it’s already been made and prepared just the way he likes.

“It’s only 9 o’clock in the morning, do we really have to start cooking dinner now, darling?” He grumbles over his steaming mug, peering at you over the rim.

You scoff incredulously, spinning on your heel to face him with narrowed eyes as you clutch a spatula in your hand. “I want it to be perfect, Ronald.”

He frowns at the use of his full name but it’s soon replaced in favor of a smile when you lean on your toes and kiss him, feeling as though maybe you’d been a bit too harsh. His lips tasted of coffee and the excessive amount of cream he likes in it, his eyes closing sleepily as he finds himself blindly chasing after you for another and another.

“Whatever you say,” he hums in content.

“Now if you would please help me, that would be great,” you say softly, kissing his forehead before moving to prepare for the afternoon ahead.

—

Dinner and dessert was made successfully in perfect timing, though the most help Ron had offered wasn’t very much help at all, constantly stealing food and insisting he was just testing it. The table was set with your best plates and silverware, though the extra chairs you had pulled in to accommodate the large family were mismatched. Everything was cleaned and bookshelves were dusted, the sweetest of your candles were lit and you had on your best clothes.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be just fine. They’ll love it,” Ron laughs softly, grabbing your hands and stopping your nervous pacing. “They love you.”

His words paired with the look he’d been giving you was enough to settle your nerves for the time being. He looked rather cute; dressed in the slacks he used for teaching, a button-up and an adorable sweater vest to go over top. His hair had since been brushed out though with the lengths it’s become, it’s hard to be anything but messy.

You nod lightly as you fumble with his tie, and he could tell you still hadn’t been assured so he settled for kissing your forehead.

The sound of car doors had soon interrupted your moment, and upon a closer look you saw a cluster of red hair and colorful knit scarves rushing through the front gate. Ron smile warmly at you as the doorbell rang, releasing your hand to open the door.

Mrs. Weasley gasped immediately upon stepping through the house, arms open widely and pulling the two of you into a very tight hug as Arthur and Charlie follow in close behind her with armfuls of housewarming gifts.

“Oh it’s so much more beautiful than you described, Ron!” She pinched his cheeks cheerfully much to his dismay as the tips of his ears turn cherry red, his face soon matching it before she turns to kiss your cheeks. “It’s absolutely wonderful, my dear.”

You smile brightly as a blush coats your cheeks.

“Yeah, Ronniekins! I’m sure Y/n did all the decorating,” George teases, Ron quickly narrowing his eyes at him.

Bill instantly stops him before a harmless jinx could leave his mouth by sputtering out a greeting. He pulls you in for a hug and a kiss to the top of your head. “Easy, Ron, we don’t need anymore blue hair mishaps.”

Bill’s tone is light as he ruffles his brothers hair, not helping any with Ron’s grumbling.

“Ronniekins,” you coo, pinching his cheek much softer than his mother as you tease him with a scrunched nose and soft laugh. He mimicked your expression as he shakes his head, nose brushing against yours.

“Not you too!” He whines, knowing full well you’d never pass up an opportunity to tease him.

You were soon whisked away by Ginny, however, who had been dying to sit with you at dinner ever since she’d been made aware of the plans. Ron had flashed a frown when George swoops in And takes the seat to your left, though it’s only playful. Maybe he missed you a bit too. He barely got two words in before every dug in to the food before them, so he gave up completely and soon found himself with a mountains worth of dinner on his own plate.

Fred’s absence hadn’t gone unnoticed nor did the brief moment where conversation had paused, save for the clinking of silverware. But it wasn’t quite as upsetting as the last time you recall, more bittersweet and fond though he was still missed dearly.

“Your cooking is wonderful, Y/n,” Percy compliments at the other end of the table, a chorus of muffled agreements sounding after him.

“Thank you, Percy. I’m so glad you could make it,” you say as you smile warmly, the family’s assurance dissolving any last bit of worry you had.

You had no reason to be nervous in the first place, they had cherished you just as much as you did them. Regardless, it brightened your mood to know that they had approved of everything you had done to make everything perfect.

Conversation was easily swept away from that point on. Molly spoke of Arthur’s achievements as work, to which he tried to play it down with rosy cheeks but of course she would not have any such thing. In turn, you spoke of Ron’s and he flushed redder than his hair as he smiled down at his plate. Though he nearly choked on his bread when you decided to mention the fact that a students boggart had also been spiders, an embarrassing moment he’d be perfectly happy with stuffing away forever and ever. He knew you wouldn’t let it go and he nudged you under the table as you giggled softly.

Charlie spoke extensively about a new species of dragons he’d gotten the opportunity to tend to. Everyone nearly rolled their eyes at his long winded conversation about the different types of dragon scales and what they each mean.

Bill talked of his travels and the countries he’s been able to see, though he couldn’t go too long without the mention of Fluer. He was head over heels for her and it was rather endearing to see the way his face lit up upon every mention of his lover. You immediately knew where Ron had gotten it from.

George had pulled your focus away to talk about his shop, and to more secretly discuss his newest prank up his sleeve for the next time the two of you come to the Burrow. He also made several comments on how much he loved dessert, and how Fred would have loved everything even more. He even brought you a few trinkets from the shop that he knew you’d appreciate, gifting them to you with a ruffle of your hair and a thanks for taking care of his little brother.

And perhaps the most enthralling conversation was the one you had with Ginny, who’d waited till steady conversation was had before she broke off to speak of things long overdue. She gushed about Harry and his endeavors, a pink blush on her cheeks as she thought of her lover fondly. She mentioned the gift she’d suspected he’d gotten her for Christmas, and the one she’d gotten him. She talked of quidditch and how she’d advanced her team in the professional tournament, allowing them to take the trip across the world. She was so happy and excited that you let her take over the conversation, a smile on your lips as she did.

It was an eventful dinner, a dull moment never arising, not that you had expected it to. Everyone had since moved to the living room, taking up couches and loveseats and recliners to continue the chats they had started at the table. The fireplace was roaring and the candelabras had been lit, Molly even started the record player. Inevitably, she asked Arthur to dance but he didn’t put up much of a fuss about it.

It was wonderful and it was everything you’d hoped it to be.

A moment alone had finally been managed amongst the joyful chaos of the Weasley’s, Ron’s arms encircling your waist in a long awaited embrace as his lips press to your cheek in a tender kiss. You smile as his nose brushes along your flushed skin, and soon he was grinning against the corner of your mouth as he laughed softly.

“What’s so funny?” You ask with a laugh of your own, pulling back to look at him curiously. You run your thumb across his cheek and his eyes crinkle with his growing smile.

The orange glow of the sunset peeking through fading rain clouds had filtered in through the kitchen window, shimmering warmly in his matching hair and illuminating the adoring look dancing in his eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, his forehead pressed against yours and he takes a moment or two to ponder his response.

“Nothing,” he murmurs in the close proximity, dipping down to kiss you delicately before lingering there, his warm breath on your lips before repeating the words you’d spoken just a week prior. “Just in love is all.”

Your hand moves to settle on his cheek as you lean up and kiss him sweetly, and he pulls you impossibly closer as he hums against your lips. His cheeks were flushed a pale crimson when you part, a soft smile on his face.

“Is that so?” You ask quietly, still inches from his lips when you brush the hair out of his eyes before resting your hands on his chest.

He tucks your hair behind your ear as you gaze up at him, his lips pink and kiss swollen and waiting for more. He nods without hesitation and your smile widens a fraction. “Yeah, it is.”

You beam at him, leaning up on your toes and hugging him tightly, so much so he stumbles back a bit. But it doesn’t matter, because the way you’re holding him seems to be pulling all his broken pieces together. Though it seems as though he’d been mended since the very first time he met you.

He smiles brightly as he closes his eyes, your head resting on his shoulder as he thinks about it. The laughter of his family filtering in from the next room over. The heat in his cheeks whenever you kiss him, whenever you look at him. The sweet smell of your perfume lingering just under his nose. The very kitchen you stood in, in the very place you’ve come to call your home. Each and every one of those things crossed his mind in that moment and he found himself unable to think of anything else but that. Nothing else but you.

“I love you, Ron Weasley.”

Amongst the darkness that once enveloped his life, Ron Weasley finally found his light.

—

Tags: @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @writeroutoftime @n3ssm0nique @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

#ron weasley #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley series #ron weasley angst #ron weasley one shot #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley fic #ron weasly imagine #harry potter fic

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ladyanaconda · 3 years

Text

Helluva Boss Vol 2: Loo Loo Land

Striker awoke with a start, panting heavily. His heart pounded so fast that he thought it would burst out of his chest at any moment now. The imp sighed as he ran a hand through his ash white hair.

He had that nightmare again. He didn't cry, as he had no more tears to shed and it wouldn't being her back but the wound was still raw. He'd tell himself that he did what she asked of him: to save their son. However, the guilt was still there.

Striker went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As he looked through the window, he noticed it was raining. There were no thunders tonight but still, he better go check on Jake just in case.

Something pulled on his pants. Speak of the devil! Striker looked down and found the infant next to his leg, his little hand grasping his pants. How Jake managed to crawl all the way down from his nursery was a mystery to Striker.

"What's up, kiddo?" Striker asked, not really expecting an answer. Jake reached out his hands, asking to be picked up. Sighing, he bent down to pick up his son. " Can't sleep either, huh? That makes two of us, my boy," he said gently as he walked up the stairs. "How about we keep each other company for a while? It'll be less lonely that way."

Striker sat on his bed and placed Jake on his lap. He entertained the little one with the rattling of his tail for a while until Jake lost interest and snuggled into his father's chest, yawning. Striker knew what the little one needed. Jake protested via whimpers as he was tucked back into his nearly started to wail if not for the familiar sound of a guitar's strings and his father's voice as the cradle was rocked from side to side.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

For one so small

You seem so strong

My arms will hold you

Keep you safe and warm

This bond between us

Can't be broken

I will be here don't you cry

'Cause you'll be in my heart

Yes, you'll be in my heart

From this day on

Now and forevermore

You'll be in my heart

No matter what they say

You'll be here in my heart

Always

Always…

Jake had long been lulled into sleep by the end of the song. Smiling, Striker kissed the little one's forehead.

"Good night."

*HB*

"M and M, J and S, get in here! We're going to Loo Loo Land!"

Striker frowned under his hat, annoyed at having his nap interrupted. "Isn't that the rip-off of Lucifer's far more popular LuLu World?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"That's right, Strike! Stolas is paying us extra cash for making sure he and his daughter are still breathing by the end of the day."

Striker covered his face with his hat again. "Sorry, Blitz, my contract only includes assassination jobs."

"Look at it this way: you're going to 'assassinate' whoever tries to lay a hand on Stolas and his daughter."

The cowboy frowned. "Why us? Doesn't that blueblood have a whole legion of guards at his disposal?"

"Come on, dad! I want to go to Loo Loo Land!" Jake pleaded, taking his father's hat. "I've never been to a theme park!"

"Yeah, Strike, it'll be fun!" Millie wrapped an arm around the cowboy's shoulder. "You won't find a cheaper theme park in all of Hell, plus it's a good opportunity for you and Jake to spend some quality time together!"

Striker would have protested further, but Jake (and Blitzo) were giving him the 'puppy eyes' face. At last, he murmured. "Ugh. Fine."

They picked up the owl Goetias in I.M.P.'s van and went straight to the theme park in the Greed ring. As always, Striker and Jake rode Bombproof to avoid an overcrowding inside the vehicle, especially with two bluebloods inside.

Striker'd seen a few tv commercials about Loo Loo Land, but something he'd learned over the years is that no intentional rip-off of anything was worth wasting money on. He was soon proven right once they arrived at the place. Most of the attractions within Loo Loo Land were either broken, cracked, or disheveled-looking. And judging by the look on Octavia's face, she didn't like it here either. Jake, on the other hand…

"Cool! Look, dad, there's a carousel! Can we go? No, wait, I wanna try the roller coaster first! Whoa, is that a dragon? I must pet it!" the impling was running around the place, awing over the rides and booths with wide eyes.

"Blitz better add another zero to my next paycheck." Striker murmured under his breath.

"Woow! I haven't been to this place since I was a tot! It hasn't changed a bit- oh, LOOK!" Millie pulled Moxxie and Jake into a hug and gestured to an old dinosaur-like animatronic. "It's Big Woobly!"

"That is… deeply upsetting," Moxxie whispered.

"Oh, come on! It's fun! You've never been here?"

"No, theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots."

"I agree with Moxxie." Millie, Jake, and Moxxie himself gave Striker a baffled look. "As incredible as it sounds."

"Well, hey there!" Striker was caught off guard as Moxxie suddenly jumped into his arms with a frightened yelp as a guy in an old cartoonish apple costume appeared out of nowhere. The only reason he didn't drop Moxxie was that he too was disturbed by the awful, smelly costume. "I'm Loo Loo! Welcome to Loo Loo Land! If ya'll get hurt, just try and sue us!"

Striker quickly wrapped his tail around Jake's waist and lifted him up before he could get too close to 'Loo Loo'.

"Hey, dad, let go!" the impling protested.

"Stay away from that predator, kiddo." Striker finally dropped Moxxie to the ground.

"I have a question."

"Well, ask away, little girlie!" the mascot made a poor attempt at goofy laughter.

Octavia sneered. "Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off or Lucifer's far more popular Lu Lu World? This place reeks of insecure corporate shame."

Striker held tightly unto Jake until they left the creepy mascot behind. Being new to this place, he decided to follow Millie and Moxxie around for a while.

"You really love this place, huh?" Moxxie asked casually.

Millie nodded eagerly. "I love this place! My parents would bring me and my siblings here when they could swing it. Money-wise."

"Dad, look!" Jake ran towards a gift shop and pressed his face against the window, eyeing a plush dragon like the one on the Petting Zoo. "Can I have one?"

Striker only had to look at the price, 400 souls, to reply. "Absolutely not."

"Whyy?"

"400 souls for a doll you'll end up throwing away? Don't you wanna throw away all of my salary, since you're on it?"

Jake pouted, arms crossed. "Meanie."

"He does have a point. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?" Moxxie added, pointing at said cup worth 29 souls.

"Cause it's Loo Loo Land!" Millie chirped.

"Listen to your hoe, Mox." Blitzo seemingly had no trouble with loading up on the theme park's merch. "Hey, Strike, how 'bout you and I take the first watch while M and M have a little fun with Jakey?"

"Can I, dad? Please, please, please!"

Striker sighed. "Fine. Just stay close to Millie and Moxxie and listen to whatever they tell-"

"Um, Striker, I have to interrupt your fatherly monologue, but they already left." Blitzo was right. Millie, Moxie, and Jake were gone already.

Striker merely sighed and loaded his rifle.

*HB*

Jake still couldn't understand why his father had never brought him to Loo Loo Land before. This place was incredible! The rides, the junk food, kicking the guy in the Loo Loo costume; for some reason, he couldn't resist the urge every time he saw the apple costume. And of course, Moxie simply had to ruin everything. His wimpy stomach couldn't handle The Lawsuit ride and he ended up vomiting unto the people in the front car, Jake included. They had to get him new clothes in the nearest gift shop.

"You're so lucky my dad wasn't here or he would have fed you to that," Jake pointed at the dragon peeking over the Petting zoo fence.

"Okay, guys, how about we take a look around the smaller rides?" Millie suggested.

"You mean the kids area? That's where the Petting Zoo is! Can we go there to see the dragon?"

"I don't care as long as I don't have to get on top of it," Moxxie murmured, his hand still clutching his stomach. Jake squealed happily.

There were lots of animals at the Petting Zoo. Jake recognized some from Wrath, most notably some Hellhorses with green fire to reflect Greed. He had seen how Bombproof's fire color change from orange to red each time they entered Pride, and it had changed to a minty green when they entered Greed. There were other animals he had only seen in books too, but his attention was entirely focused on the giant red, black and white wyvern. Known as Hellvern, it is native to Greed and is often used as a 'guardian dog' of sorts by Overlords.

Jake felt a shiver down his spine as the giant dragon stared down at him curiously. Taking a deep breath, he stroked the animal's snout. Once he realized his hand was attached to his body, Jake began to laugh and jump.

"I touched the dragon, I touched the dragon!" he cried out happily. "Just wait until I tell dad!"

"Oh, I bet he'll be very proud of you!" Millie smirked, ruffling the impling's hair. "

Afterward, they took a break from the rides and wandered around the snack and game booths. Jake and Millie ate big cones of ice cream bugs and fried butter sticks. Moxxie chose not to consume any 'junk food of questionable origin'.

"This place is amazing! Man, I wish I'd come here sooner!" Jake said happily as he looked around the game booths.

"So Striker has never brought here? He would have loved the rides for sure!" Millie pointed out.

"Nah, dad's never been too fond of machines. He'd rather do things the old-fashioned way."

Moxxie scoffed. "Yeah, why would he come to work on a horse otherwise?"

"Well, at least we don't waste time on looking for a parking spot."

"Touché, kid."

"Hey, now that we're on it, I don't think we've ever met your mom."

Jake stopped in his tracks. His… mom? It's the first time someone's brought that up. Dad has never talked about her and there are no photos of her in the house. But surely he had one, right? Everyone has one.

"Hello, hello! Step right up and win a thing!"

Millie's excited cry distracted Jake from his thoughts. "Oh, look, Moxxie! A thing!" The 'thing' in question was a purple stuffed penguin-like creature with imp horns and pink overalls.

"Oh, you like that thing?"

"Yesss! I don't really know what that thing is but I want that thing!"

Moxxie smirked. "Finally, something I can handle." he placed a soul bill on the counter. "Okay! One game, please!"

Unsurprisingly, the cork but the target. To Jake's surprise, however, the target barely moved. Moxxie didn't seem to mind since he had hit the bullseye.

"Strike one, little man!"

Moxie's smugness faded instantly. "But I hit it!"

"Hmm, I don't know what to tell ya, buddy. The target, see?" the vendor pointed at said target "It didn't go down, so yeah, no go, bro."

Growling, Moxie placed another bill on the counter and fired another cork at the bullseye, but again it didn't move. Annoyed, Moxxie slapped the pistol. "The Heaven's wrong with this thing?!"

"Oh. Man, a real shame, I tell ya." the carnie made crying gestures in a mocking manner, prompting Moxxie to slam yet another bill on the counter.

*HB*

As incredible as it may sound, Striker envied his son. Jake was probably having a great time at the admittedly cool-looking rides while he is stuck babysitting a blueblood. He couldn't say he was completely bored, though. Turns out the pervert was right when he said there'd be lots of people going after him. Striker even ended up making a bet with Blitzo over who could shoot more people by the end of the day. Up to now, Striker was winning.

The cowboy casually spotted Octavia, who by then looked like she'd snap at any second now. He couldn't blame her, the show's musical number was rather bizarre.

"How come that pervert hasn't noticed his daughter is not enjoying himself at all?" he asked Blitzo casually.

"Not our business, Strike. We're their bodyguards, not their family therapists. Speaking of which," Blitzo shot an assassin in the back before he could stab Stolas. Blitzo smirked. "That makes it four on my count, Striker."

"Let's save that for later, Blitz. Looks like the mare's finally kicked." Striker motioned to Octavia as she fled the tent, Stolas following closely behind.

"You should find Jakey. It's Millie and Moxxie's watch, anyway, they can go keep an eye on Stolas."

Striker nodded gratefully and left the circus tent. Surprisingly, it didn't take him too long to find Jake, Moxxie, and Millie. They were at a shooting game booth. Judging by the enraged look in Moxxie's face and the 600 souls in the vendor's hands, the wimp just got scammed.

"Hey, dad! You won't believe what I did, I petted a dragon!"

Striker chuckled and petted the boy's head. "I'm glad you had a great time, kiddo."

"Hey, you, cowboy! You look like ye might be better at shooting this sad little fella."

Striker frowned. He knew from experience that these booths were rigged to scam customers out of their money at the vendor's leisure. He had a better idea. Smirking, Striker pulled out his pistol and handed it to Jake.

"Show them what you got, kiddo."

The impling's face lit up. He pointed the barrel of the weapon at the carnie to give him a fright before shooting all of the targets with flawless precision in quick succession. The bullets went right through the targets, leaving big holes. The carne was reduced to a trembling, frightened mess.

"H-Hey, take it easy, p-pal…" he stuttered nervously as Jake pointed the gun at him again.

"That's my boy!" Striker laughed, patting Jake's shoulder.

"Now I think," Moxxie sneered as he leaned unto the counter. "That you owe us a thing."

Something crashed through the roof of the shooting gallery and on top of the carnie. The group leaned in to take a look.

"Sir?" Moxxie asked.

Striker sighed once he turned around and found the theme park literally on fire. "Really, Blitz? I leave you alone for a second and you screw the damn place up?"

"Oh, hey guys!" Blitzo seemingly didn't hear him as he drew his pistol. "You should probably go, uh, make sure Stolas is okay. I got some… unfinished business to take care of."

The group dispersed, with Millie quickly grabbing her plush thing. Strike quickly picked Jake up and moved out of the way as Blitzo fired at the burning robot; the thing caught the bullet in its mouth and curled up to roll towards Blitzo in a fiery charge. Blitzo jumped out of the way just as the robot hit the booth and it exploded in an inferno of green flames.

"Um, Dad, should we lend Blitzo a hand?"

"I suppose so lest he ends up blowing the whole place up with us inside."

Jake smirked as he spotted the dragon from before on the loose. "I got an idea!"

Striker knew what the boy was thinking. He wasn't sure if it was such a good idea, though; he's dealt with wild hogs, hellhorses, and many fauna, but never a fully-grown Hellvern. Then again, he's always liked challenges. He had Jake climbed onto his back and cling to his neck.

"Hang on tight, my boy, this will be one hell of a ride!"

Grabbing a discarded rope and tying it into a lasso, Striker expertly threw it over the dragon's neck and pulled, tightening around its neck. When the animal reared back and spread its wings, Striker took advantage of the momentum to pull himself onto the Hellvern's back.

"Easy, there! I'm your new master now!" the cowboy shouted over the Hellvern's angry shrieks, pulling the ropes tightly in the manner of reins. It wasn't that hard, as the Hellvern had already been tamed. Otherwise, it was like riding a giant version of Bombproof.

"Woohoo! Can we keep the Hellvern, dad?!"

"I already got enough with a Hellhorse, kiddo!"

Striker led the animal through the green inferno, eyeing the crazy robot going after Blitzo. Millie and Moxxie were shooting it, but it was far too fast for bullets. Striker couldn't contain an excited 'yeehaw' cry as he whipped the Hellvern forward and it snatched Robo Fizz right before it could run Blitzo over; the animal threw Robo Fizz into the air before eating it whole.

"Got a new mount, Striker?! Can I keep Bombproof?!"

"In your dreams, Blitz!"

They barely made it out of Loo Loo Land before it was consumed by flames, then made a run for it before anyone could identify them as the people who destroyed the place. Mammon would look for heads to roll before the day's end, after all.

*HB*

"Best… Day… Ever…" Jake laughed in-between exhausted pants as they got home that night.

Striker fell on top of the couch, groaning in exhaustion. "We're taking the rest of the week off, kiddo. If Blitz calls, tell him Bombproof has a cold or something like that, but I'm not moving from this couch."

Jake joined his father and snuggled against him. "Thanks for taking me to Loo Loo Land, daddy."

"I'd say 'anytime' if the park hadn't been reduced to ashes." Striker chuckled, eyes closed as he wrapped an arm around his son.

As Jake snuggled into his father's arm, he thought about what Millie had said back at Loo Loo Land about.. "Hey, dad?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you something? "

"What?"

"Well…" Jake took a deep breath. "Do I have a mom? I mean, Millie has one, Moxie too, Blitzo… Even Stolas's daughter has a mom. I've never seen any pictures and you've never told me about her…"

Jake trailed off as he heard snoring. Dad had already fallen asleep. He must be really exhausted, Jake thought. I can ask him some other time. I'll let him rest for now.

…

Striker didn't open his eyes until he was certain that Jake had fallen asleep; then he carefully cradled his son in his arms and carried him upstairs all the way to his room. He carefully tucked Jake in as quietly as possible; Jake shifted a bit, but otherwise didn't look like he'd wake up anytime soon. Striker smiled as he stroked his son's hair.

It's not that he didn't want Jake to know about his mother. He wanted to tell his son about the wild-spirited, strong-willed woman that stole his heart. He really did. But he just couldn't find the words to explain what had happened to her. Just even remembering her was like adding lemon and salt to an open wound. Striker would tell Jake about his mother eventually, just not now.

The cowboy carefully placed the stuffed dragon he had grabbed from the shooting gallery in Jake's grasp, carefully leaning in to kiss the boy's head.

"Good night."

*HB*

Well, seems there's been a hint about Jake's mother. What do you think happened to her? I might go into details later on.

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nagia-pronounced-neijia · 3 years

Text

w(h)ip wednesday

It's a surprisingly quaint little farm, the kind of thing some traveller from the far-away west might paint into his little journal and tell all the Belgians and Austrians and French about. Green hills rise up in a gentle roll, with occasional stones that must have tumbled down from God-knows-where, looking pushed up through the grass and the barley like crooked teeth. Sheep meander among the gray rocks, bleating occasionally to each other and munching on the plants.

As they step past the low wooden fence, Trevor spots a goat chewing cud in a pen. It stares disinterestedly at them, eyes gleaming with that peculiar mix of cunning and stupidity native to goats. If it was ever a person, their mind seems long gone, he thinks, replaced by a goat's determination to be the biggest pain in the arse it possibly can.

They keep going and find a yard full of chickens. Here chickens, there chickens, everywhere fucking chickens. Mostly roosters, judging by the wattles, which he finds odd, and when Sypha steps too close to a hen, one of the stupid cockerels jumps at her. His wings flutter, feathers flying further than he can, and he seems determined to murder her with talon, beak, or both. He makes the most insane noises as he does it, like metal screaming.

It's instinct to try and put himself between her and something trying to hurt her. Even something as small and stupid and surprisingly vicious as a pissed-off chicken. He raises his arms to block the pecks and scratches, glad of the fur-and-leather vambraces, thick enough that he feels nothing.

"Calm the hell down," Trevor says, and puts a boot to the bird, which doesn't improve his disposition, exactly, but does manage to make him reconsider attacking. "I'll do it again," Trevor warns him, and immediately feels like an idiot.

But the rooster subsides, sulky, glaring at them both with beady eyes.

And the cabin door swings open. The woman who steps outside isn't quite pretty, but she's striking. He thinks her nose might have been broken, once, and her hair falls loose around her shoulders in a riot of deep red that catches in the sun.

But it's her hands he's most interested in, and, just like every family book always said, they tell the real story to him immediately.

Her face may look youngish -- certainly only of middle years -- but her hands, too pale, have wrinkles and liver spots, a sure sign of a witch. The deep, nearly black bruising that extends from the nail to the second knuckle of her littlest fingers, however, is the mark of a witch who has embraced questionable magic, if not outright reveled in the foulest and blackest of workings.

Beside him, Sypha moves to wave one arm. "You must be Sârșe," she says, and he can hear that she's smiling.

The woman inclines her head. "I am. And who might you be?"

"I"m Sypha, and this is Trevor." She jabs at him with an elbow. He doesn't jab back, but mostly because he's trying to figure Sârșe out.

"Hello," he says, about a second after Sypha's pointy elbow makes contact a second time.

Sârșe watches them both. Absolutely no emotion colors her face. Even her eyes look flat and lifeless, no more interested in them as people than the goat had been. "What have you come to find?"

He sighs. "Oh, we found it already."

"Trevor," Sypha hisses.

But Trevor ignores her. "Look, we know you're a witch. Well, Sypha suspects. But I know. And I don't care about the whole," here, he makes a sort of quotation mark with the fingers of both hands, "'demons into chickens' thing. Not sure anybody should be eating those, but it's not my business."

The very furthest corner of Sârșe's mouth curls up for about a second before smoothing back down. Her gaze remains flat. "And what is your business?"

"I'm not saying I expect you to turn them all back, mind, because I know that's not how it works. But how many of your sheep used to be people?"

He's a little relieved when, rather than hotly deny it, Sârșe licks her lips. "All of them," she says, calmly, like she doesn't care at all.

Well, that explains at least one of her fingers. Hell, he's a little surprised it hasn't spread further.

Sypha's the one to step forward and ask, "Do you have any plans to stop?"

Sârșe stares between them for what feels like several minutes. It's probably not even a whole minute of its own, but it sinks its teeth into him and drags. Her eyes look like empty wells, endless and awful.

"No," she says, still very calm.

"Told you," he mutters to Sypha. "When they're this far gone, they don't really listen to reason."

That draws Sârșe's attention. She snaps her head to look at him. Something even darker stirs in her dark eyes, moving and shifting, and they bite into him. He doesn't look away, but he wants to, because eyes like those see, and the brain behind them judges, and men are always found wanting in a gaze like that.

Found wanting and then turned into farm animals. And then potentially sold at fucking market day, to be slaughtered and eaten. Christ.

"Do you think yourself such a hero, Trevor Belmont?"`

He lets out a short bark of a laugh. "I helped kill fucking Dracula, sure. But what I was really doing was helping a man kill his own father. What kind of hero is that?"

She repeats the question back at him, emphasizing it. "What kind of hero is that, Trevor Belmont?"

"No kind at all," he replies.

And, for the first time, she smiles. It's terrible and pitying. "Will you kill fucking Sârșe? And if you do, what will you really have done?"

Sypha fields this one. "We'll have stopped animals that used to be people being sold and eaten by those who once knew them. You have to admit that's grotesque."

"I admit no such thing. They know who I am. They know the consequence of crossing me. They know what I bring to market day. They choose to buy from me regardless. Their business is no business of mine."

God, witch logic. It's all perfectly factual, but frustratingly circular in a way he can't put words to. A sort of pure, unfeeling truth that leaves no room for honesty or humanity. Infuriating.

"Yeah, done with you, now," Trevor says, and draws the Vampire Killer. Consecration is little good against witches except in their hands, but the Morningstar would be worse than useless.

Where's a rowan branch when you need one? Not that there would be a single rowan tree on this property; they would have all died the first time she took a piss here. Hell, if he were half the Belmont that Sypha thinks he is, he'd have a fucking pouch of salt on him, and he doesn't. Their salt is in the wagon with their goddamned cooking supplies.

Sypha conjures a ring of fire, driving away all the chickens and other animals from the farm, and Sârșe's eyes widen for a moment. She looks between them again, gaze darting from Sypha to Trevor, trying to determine if the Belmont or the fellow magician is the bigger threat.

She apparently decides on him, because she flings an arm out and tries to drag him toward her.

Trevor, more used to this sort of thing by now than he likes, drops forward. He lets himself fall, and feels the grip of the spell break as his weight pulls him away from it. His hands hit the ground first, and he pulls himself into a roll, coming up on one knee.

He lashes out with the whip, half-turning to improve its force as he lets his arm flow then jerks his wrist. The line sings out, tip whistling, and the metal end bites into her hand.

Her finger flies away, landing with a sort of wet, useless noise in the dirt.

Sârșe doesn't even scream. She just looks between her now maimed hand and the finger on the ground.

"That was very stupid," she says, somehow wholly unbothered by the fact that he just tore off part of her hand, a part she probably uses pretty often. She raises the same hand, even as it bleeds, and makes a curling gesture with her remaining fingers.

Once again something grips him, trying to pull him closer.

When she raises her other hand, Sypha slides sideways, colliding with one of the wooden fences. It cracks with the force she hits it at, splintering.

He's not thinking when he sends the whip out again. It's anger that drives him to it, and this time, he gets her in one of those tainted, blackened littlest fingers, and Sârșe screams. At first it's just a gurgling sound of pain, thin and high, like any woman might make when a man reached out and hurt her because he could.

But then it turns to something else. Something thick and strange sounding, that scratches at his ears and the air around him.

"I name you worm, that crawls in the dust," Sârșe says. "I name you dog, that licks his master's hand. I name you cock, that lords himself over nothing. I name you buck-goat, that ruts and farts, and I name you pig, that wallows in shit."

Absolutely no imagination on the woman. He supposes whatever demon she serves, or made a deal with, or whatever, has probably long eaten it. "People have really got to find worse things to call me."

Sârșe laughs. "What a strange worry," she says casually. "But needless. You'll call yourself all those things, in the end, and worse." And she raises both hands, and this time, she really does manage to pull him in, mostly because he lets her.

Once he's close, she smears her blood on his cheek and smiles that terrible, pitying, dark-eyed smile, and the empty wells of her eyes stare at him, judgmental, even as he sinks one of his knives into her throat.

He pays no attention to the witch's body after that. Instead, he runs for Sypha. She'd fallen among the splinters, and he doesn't even think about kneeling, about passing his hands over her to feel for blood, for anything sticking out or misplaced.

"Are you alright? That was some hit." And fuck him, his job is to be the one taking the hits. He still hasn't forgiven himself for the scars on her upper arm from their fight with Dracula.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she grumbles. "Help me up."

He does, splaying one hand under her back and supporting her under the elbow with his other hand. He hefts her up, taking most of her weight, and she stumbles a little as she rises. She leans heavily against him, and he lets her, wrapping one arm loosely around her shoulders. "You're sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," she snaps, predictably irritated, and waves a hand at him. "Leave it be."

"Alright, alright, if you say so. And, well, she's dead. If we're lucky, some of these people might start turning back. Do we want to be here for that?" They probably should. He thinks his uncle would have. His father certainly would have.

#netflix castlevania #castlevania fic #wip wednesday #whip wednesday #trephacard #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #witchbottle

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thefreakydeaky · 4 years

Text

Call Out My Name

Chapter One Title: All I Know

Characters: Negan x Plus Size Reader, The Saviors, The Wives, Eugene

Summary: You belonged to him.Try as you might to pretend indifference, Negan’s very presence has awakened feelings in you that you believed had died with the old world.Is the ruthless King of the Sanctuary still human enough to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, Canon Gore & Violence.

Word Count: 2,930

Careful to avoid making any noise, you pressed down on the stainless steel lever.As discreetly as you could manage, you peered into the communal living space.Sherri and a few of the other wives sat together on the large sectional speaking in hushed tones. Your prison guard however, was absent. You grinned. Dropping all pretense, you stood up straight and let the door swing shut behind you.

“Good Morning.” You called out cordially.

Her eyes gave you an appraising once over. They paused at the sight of the old flannel you had on over your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Negan’s first wife asked sternly.

“Where ever the wind takes me on this fine day, Miss Sherri.”

The remnants of a southern upbringing scolded you for being rude.You knew well that all of these girls had to put up with the boss man same as you,but you couldn’t risk getting caught just to be polite.

“He’ll be angry.” You heard her call after you, but Negan was always angry. So you didn’t let that stop you.

There was no way of knowing how long you had, but you intended to explore as much of the sanctuary as possible. You had been out of the room before, sure, but you had only seen flashes of the place as you ran past.Then there was the mini-mission you went on two months ago to find out what was making Joey late. Once you figured out what day of the week Pastry day was, it was simple.Third day of every week, Joey headed straight for the bakers and stood in line for a good half hour. You left when they handed him the sweet bread and found you could beat him back to the room.That was the most you had seen of the sanctuary since your arrival and was not the best way, you were convinced, to get to know and appreciate the beauty this place might hold.

The Sunlight felt nice for the first few seconds after you stepped out of your building, but soon enough the humidity ruined the moment.

You stayed on the greenery beside the road to avoid burning your feet, following the gravel path to the market place.Careful to avoid the baker’s side of the warehouse, you walked idly passed stall after stall of goods and services.

Your eyes caught on a table of battered shoes. You recognized the pasty ex-alexandrian running the table.Eugene, he was called.You knew this from the stories Tanya told you at dinner time.He was nothing but a blubbering wuss from the sound of it, so you figured you could handle him.You strode confidently to the front of the line and smiled.

“Excuse me?” You found yourself demanding not two minutes later.You glared at Eugene until he looked away.

“You don’t have credit.”

“The hell I don’t!”

“How many more times do you need me to say it?”Eugene repeated a smirk on his lips.

He leaned back in his chair looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“How fucking dare -” You started to shout, your voice ringing out through the warehouse.

Calling attention to yourself was the last thing you wanted to be doing you reminded yourself anxiously. You scrambled to come up with a different tactic.The corners of your mouth pulled up into a practiced grin that you never thought you would have cause to use again.

“My my,” Injecting sugar into your voice, you leaned across the table until you were nearly close enough to touch him.“Look at you! You’ve been runnin’ with the big dogs long enough to do a halfway decent impression, Eugene.”

Eugene’s shifty eyes widened. “You know my name?”

“Negan only ever talks about one genius with a mullet.”You lowered the volume of your voice conspiratorially, “How fortunate you are that my darling husband hasn’t seen through you yet.” You postured, taking a risk. “Maybe, I ought to help him see you for what you really are?”

“He will never believe you.”

“Why not? It wouldn’t make any sense for me to lie about a man I have never met. All i have to do is call into question your history with the people of Alexandria and make it seem like I feel concerned for his safety.”

Metal chair legs scraped against cement as Eugene pushed his seat back and stood.

“I’m g-going out for a smoke.Them shoes better be the only thing missin’ when I get back.” His trembling lower lip killed any affect his wrathful tone might have had on you.

You snickered at his retreat.

Your white dress fanned out behind you as you hurried away brown leather contraband on your feet, eager to begin your self guided tour.

Building after building of industrial rot, a few rusty tin shacks, and a sad row of herbs and spices later, you found yourself in front of the main building itself.

The Sanctuary’s weather beaten concrete face was made of cruel sharp angles. Her broken windows were yellowing jagged teeth.She stared brutally down at you until you couldn’t bare to meet her eyes anymore and turned, walking brusquely away from her frightening visage.

You turned the next corner only to freeze in your tracks.The wet raspy growling filled your ears before the smell hit you.

Walkers

Your eyes swept from left to right a few times trying to count, to keep track and then you realized, that they weren’t coming for you. There was a chain link fence separating them from you.Your brow knitted.They were tied down.They were, for the most part, stationary.Some chained up, some tied up, some stuck through with pipes. It took a twisted mind to come up with such a gruesome thing.

You wondered if Negan had come up with the idea himself.You shook the thought away. You didn't want to know. You made for the only corner of the god forsaken place you hadn’t yet visited.

The stolen too-big boots kicked up loose bits of gravel behind you as you headed for the backlot. Little did you know that you had an audience.Eyes followed your trek down the road from the loading dock behind you.

The field was inhabitted by broken wood pallets, a rusted up old mercury with bullet holes along the side, some old crates, a busted up head board, ruined tires, and tin sheeting. They lay rotting in the grass.Nearer the chain link fence, lay the final resting place for the few men who managed to stay on good terms with Negan until their last moments. Crude wooden headstones marked with paint stuck out in a bad attempt of making a row.

You slowed down as you reached the end of the pavement and waded into the living green sea of grass hoping not to encounter any snakes.The damp blades were staining the skirt of your dress, but it’d be worth the scolding. A long jagged claw snagged at your dress.You cursed. As you pulled it loose, you realized it was a foot and a half of wood that likely came off of one of the pallets.You tossed it aside and smirked.Now that you’d gone and torn the thing, he would be extra pissed. Hell if you were going to get him good and mad you had better do it well you thought, untieing the bright orange ribbon from around your wrist. Negan's latest gift to you. Each time you saw it, it reminded you of who you belonged to. You frowned as you let it flutter to the ground. It may as well have been a dog collar.

Negan was following you, keeping far enough away not to draw attention.He cursed Fat Joey for letting you out.That idiot was going to pay.He grit his teeth as he watched you wade into the tall grass.Flannel shirt or not you were ruining your dress.Where the fuck was he supposed to find you another dress as nice as the one you had on? The sight of you tugging on your skirt brought his eyes to your wrist. He saw you take off your bracelet and let it fall. Did you have any idea how hard it was to come by anything in bright colors these days?Of fucking course not!You were a spoiled selfish ungrateful untamable thing.He was not going to be taking it easy on you this time.He spotted you staring at the barbed wire topped fence and froze.

He didn’t have to imagine you attempting to clamber over the high fence, face full of determination fueled by spite.He would never forget it.Your last attempt to leave made it clear that you didn’t give a shit about your own well-being anymore.Negan cursed under his breath. God help you if you were stupid enough to pull another stunt like that.Yet he knew way down deep inside, somewhere primal, that you belonged to him.After three years and fifteen failed attempts to leave him, Negan had come to the conclusion that he had to do everything in his power to make you want to stay.

Despite the show and the accusations he had made, alternately burning and bashing some person or another, every time you fucked up Negan went easy on you.The second he’d laid eyes on you, he’d chucked his personal rule book out the window. He was afraid that this made him look soft and that burned his pride like nothing else could.

However, women with your body type had always been his preference and He knew, a figure like yours was a rare find these days. He wanted you. Negan wanted you badly. More than anything, he wanted you to want him to fuck you.It was a frustrating blue balls inducing shit show of a situation.Charming women had always come easy to him. It was his shit luck that you weren’t easily charmed. He followed you into the field. His eye caught the shine of the ribbon easily. As He pocketed the scrap of orange cloth, the memory of your first meeting came to mind.

Your hair pulled back into a braid, a lovely face, enough cleavage showing to catch his eye. Your faded jeans had holes in the thighs and your breathing was heavy from your attempt to out run The Saviors.

You looked so darn pretty kneeling before him.You’d had the audacity to meet his gaze. It pissed him off and turned him on in equal measure.Your eyes captivated him.They were burning with resentment, but no tears.Not his Y/n. You didn’t cry, didn’t beg, and didn’t flinch at the sight of Lucille.Not even after he’d dirtied her up a bit.Near the end of his speech,some traitorous switch inside him had flipped.

“Darlin’, You have got a look in your eyes that says you haven’t been fucked right in years.” He drawled smiling his slick easy smile.”Why don’t you come on home with me, I’ll show you how good it can be with a real man.”

“You expect me to believe that a bean pole like you can handle curves like mine? Honey, I would eat you alive.”

He laughed low and long.The genuine mirth startled everyone, but you.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.I just wanna love you right.”

“Well, I am sorry, Mister Real Man, but your pick up lines are bad jokes at best and that mouth of yours...” You shook your head in disapproval. “So dirty.”

You were meant to be his. No doubt about it.

“Mmm, there are plenty of good things I can do with this dirty mouth and you are curious to find out, I can tell.”

Negan’s big strong hand had fisted into the collar of your flannel pulling you toward him. You stumbled onto your feet to keep from being dragged. Before you could catch your balance, his lips were on yours.

Unbeknownst to Negan, unlike his bat and savior show, the heated kiss he gave you impressed you.

He nipped at your lower lip and turned back to what was left of your group.

“We are gonna do just fine, Dollface. As for the rest of you sorry shits, You are going to bring me my stuff and then go out and get me something nice.”

His hazel eyes gleamed down at you. “We’ll consider it a wedding present.”

Your exclamation was drowned out by the saviors’ hearty laughter as you were forcefully led to his truck.

From the moment Negan made you a wife, you vowed that you would get away from him even if you died trying. After three years and fifteen failed escape attempts, you had come to the conclusion that making him hate you was the only way out of the wives club.

You rummaged through the crates and found quite a few empty glass bottles. They would do. You put them all in the same crate and carried it with you as you counted your steps. You waited until you were at least two yards away to throw the first one.

Thunk

Wading further into the tall weeds and grass he frowned at the unfamiliar sound.

“Well I’ll be damned.” You murmured to yourself as you bent to pick up another bottle.

You glared at the Mercury, closed your fist around the neck of the bottle, and swung. It grazed the roof, but landed on the other side of the car.

“Have you lost your freaking mind?”

Your shoulders tensed at the familiar deep baritone of your husband’s voice. You stood there clenching your teeth, frustrated with the intrusion.You schooled your features before turning to face him.

“Hey there, Sugar. What are you doin’ out here?”

Negan came to stand before you, but he didn’t ask the questions you had expected him to ask.Perhaps, Where in the hell did you get shoes? or How in the hell did you manage to escape a locked room with a savior standing watch?Instead, Negan swallowed his anger and made himself the very picture of patience.

“I could ask you the same question, Darlin’.” He replied.

You stared at him, curiosity battling the wrath within you.

“Well?” Negan prompted after a minute or two of your silence.

Your thoughts raced.

What the fuck?!Why was he being nice?!He should be letting you have it right now! He should be cussing up a storm!

“Just... keepin’ busy.”You said lamely.

“In the junkyard? Playing with glass? That’s a hell of a thing for a Queen to do.” He murmured.”You could have hurt yourself.”

You were disgusted by how genuinely concerned he sounded and cringed at him calling you “Queen”.For weeks now, you had been working on him, from picking fights, to ruining belongings, to giving him the cold shoulder.Until finally you’d been able to break out again.You wanted him good and mad and Negan was not cooperating.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Actually, I haven’t been here long.I walked the whole Sanctuary first then ended up here.”You shrugged and made to pick up another bottle.”It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Who do you think you are?”

You should have known his anger couldn’t stay contained for long.

“Beg your pardon?” You snapped.

“I said,” Negan growled pulling you toward him by your shirt collar, “Just who, in the fuck, do you think you are?” His eyes glowered down at you.

“Y/F/N Fucking Y/L/N.” You declared and kicked him.

The shock on his face turned to fury. Familiar though the expression was, Negan had never turned it on you.Adrenaline spurred you into action.You yanked out of his grasp and tore through the field.

“Y/n!” He bellowed.

You didn’t dare look behind you as you pushed yourself to run.

#Negan #negan x plus sized reader #negan x reader #the walking dead #twd x reader #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm x reader

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