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helvegen-s · 23 days

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Rage, rage | eight

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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, injuries, description of injuries, self harm, bad familiar relationships, PTSD

Nimue and Azriel had bid farewell to everyone else before heading towards the Spring Court.

They had left early in the morning, winnowing themselves to the forest right in front of Tamlin's mansion. There, Nimue had magically bypassed any possible guards that the High Lord or his cousins had placed in the territory, and they waited among the trees, among the bushes.

Beside her, Azriel had shed the calm demeanor the princess had known the night before. Now, with all senses alert, he was the master spy of the Night Court. Nimue, hidden from view with a simple spell, couldn't help but watch as the Shadowsinger blended into the shadows of the trees, sometimes glimpsing only his eyes.

"What's the plan?" Azriel asked. They were waiting, not knowing for what.

"I'll go in, convince them you were torturing me, play dead, and when they least expect it, I'll kill my cousins and Jurian. But first, I'll find out their plans; I'm good at listening behind walls."

Azriel frowned.

He wanted to trust her, to put all his blind faith in her plan. In his right hand, he felt the promise tattoo they made last night pulsing.

"Okay. Keep me informed; every night I'll visit you to hear what you've discovered. Even if you don't see me, rest assured I'll always be there covering your back," Azriel raised a hand from among the shadows and touched Nimue, his hand on the female's muscular shoulder. He felt a shiver run down his spine and immense heat under the glove, the princess's body radiating a warmth so familiar that it made Azriel's bones melt.

Nimue looked at him and with a quick movement, pulled him towards her, a superhuman force making Azriel almost lose his balance. She held onto him, an embrace meant to crush bones that Azriel gladly reciprocated.

They stayed like that for a couple of seconds or a couple of minutes, they weren't sure, sheltered in each other's warmth, in the calmness of the bond between them.

"Thank you for trusting me, Azriel."

Get her out of here. She's in danger, she's scared. We can't let her go with those people.

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the warnings of his own shadows, and took a step back, letting go of the female. He stayed there, hidden among the foliage shadows, and under his watchful gaze, Nimue raised a hand on which appeared a knife made of light.

What was she going to...?

Nimue grasped the handle of the knife made of her own magic, and began with her arms: from her wrists to her elbows, she made small but deep cuts from which blood soon began to flow, dripping onto the forest floor.

When the smell of her blood reached his palate, Azriel felt like he was going to vomit. All his senses focused solely on that, on the dripping blood, on how the female was cutting her own flesh. Something inside him, deep within his being, stirred.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" before he was even aware, he had already taken a step forward, grabbing Nimue's hands and pulling them apart, his gloves staining with the red fluid.

"They have to believe that you've hurt me, that you've tortured me and I've escaped. I'll say you drugged me with faebane and that in one of your oversights I managed to flee."

Nimue freed herself from Azriel's grasp, and continued with the task, this time she stabbed herself in the same arm, staining her clothes with her own blood.

He felt his body starting to heal on its own, so with her magic she kept the wounds open and minimized the pain as much as possible to remain conscious even after losing so much blood. When she removed the knife from her thigh, she only felt a slight tingling.

Azriel felt like he was about to faint. All that blood, flowing in streams over Nimue's precious white skin, over the neat dress she wore and the undergrowth beneath her feet.

Nimue finally tore her clothes and made some final cuts on her face, and looked at Azriel.

Then she realized he was trembling, still as a statue and staring at her, his eyes wide. Around him, those shadows danced frantically from side to side, some bold enough to approach her and hover over her cuts.

"I'll be fine. Wish me luck, pretty face."

Azriel swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had seen it all, dismembered soldiers and people torn apart. By the Mother, he had done worse things to many people.

But seeing her like this...

They exchanged one last look, and Nimue started walking away, leaving the shelter of the forest.

The sunlight blinded her and she had to squint. She had chosen the perfect moment, as she just saw her cousins cross the mansion door and start descending the stairs. Behind them, the hateful human and the High Lord.

She had to focus on the cuts, on keeping them open, on mitigating the pain. She limped, dragging her right leg, her shoes soaked with all the blood she was losing, and when she saw her cousins looking at her, she let herself fall to the ground.

She searched every small corner of her being, every bit of anger she had suppressed over the last month, and pulled and pulled. She pulled until she felt herself explode, and let herself go.

She began to cry loudly, pretending false relief, letting out sobs typical of someone truly escaping from torture. Although in reality, she was just going back to the torturers.

She feigned relief when her cousins ran towards her and crossed the distance separating them in record time. She feigned relief when she felt them kneel beside her, asking her questions, starting to heal her wounds with their magic. She feigned relief when, between sobs and fake complaints, she began to answer them.

"They tortured me," she said. She took a breath and let out another false sob, this time her gaze fixed on Tamlin and Lucien, who were approaching cautiously. "They drugged me with faebane and tortured me. They're monsters."

Her cousins comforted her and ran their hands over her body, covering the wounds with their hands and closing them with that black and rotten magic that gave Nimue chills.

They kept asking her things and she answered, with little detail and between sobs: they had skipped a dose of faebane and that's how she had managed to escape, they had asked her about the Cauldron and her father's army, they had hurt her so much...

Her cousins bought it the first time, trusting their little innocent cousin, the king's beloved jewel. What reasons would the little princess have to lie?

However, between tears, she could see that Jurian didn't quite believe her. It didn't matter; sooner or later, he would fall too. And if not, she would kill him before he opened his mouth.

When they had healed all her wounds and the tears subsided, her cousins lifted her from the grass and led her carefully into the mansion. The blind faith the twins had in her was impressive, for they had also learned to see her for what she was: the key that would lead them to win the war.

They crossed the gate of the house and reached the vestibule. Before the doors closed behind them, Nimue glanced back, towards the edges of the forest, and with some effort managed to spot him.

Azriel stood there, astonished, following every detail of the scene with his mouth open. It had been so, so easy. And Nimue was so, so good at pretending.

A small pang of suspicion made it hard for him to breathe, but he soon felt the warmth of the tattoo on his right hand, as a reminder that he should trust, that he should trust the princess.

He fixed his gaze on her, on the other side of that clearing and inside the mansion's vestibule, and even at all those meters away, Azriel glimpsed the small cruel and rotten smile that the princess directed at him.

Here Nimue's plan began. Like a slow-acting poison, she would ensure to indirectly harm her father so much that he would think twice about even looking in the direction of Prythian.

The doors finished closing, and she turned her gaze forward, to her cousins, to Tamlin and Jurian, who a few meters away from her were discussing something quietly. She looked around, at the beauty of the house that Feyre had described to her, which, although somewhat neglected, was still just as intoxicating, when she felt a presence behind him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the tan skin, the reddish hair. She didn't bother to turn around, but Lucien spoke low enough for none of those present to hear but her:

"You're not going to fool me, little princess," he whispered in her ear. Nimue turned slightly to look the male in the eyes. Amazed, she met the mechanical golden orb, while the other eye looked at her with suspicion and scrutiny. "I know no one forced you to escape from Hybern, I know what they're like in the Night Court. The others might not have noticed it, but the disgusting smell of the Shadowsinger was suffocating at the edge of the forest."

Nimue looked at him, a silly smile on her face.

"I like you, Lucien," she whispered back. She turned her gaze forward again, still feeling the male's presence behind her. "But I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucien growled and took a step back.

Nimue couldn't wipe the smile off her face. This was going to be fun.

She had spent the day testing the waters, tempting fate with innocent questions, silently observing how the relationship between the Spring Court and Hybern's people worked. She excused herself from dinner early, and under the watchful gaze of everyone present, she left the huge dining room.

As soon as she was out of sight, she ran through the hallways she had memorized all afternoon. She knew which corners to turn and which corridors to navigate, and she reached the door of what was her new room. When she entered, she closed the huge wooden door and covered all the walls with her magical guards: nothing and no one could see, hear, or feel what happened inside.

She smelled Azriel's scent in the room above the touches of roses and fruits, but still didn't feel his presence. She kept looking and inspecting the room from top to bottom, absorbing every detail, when she saw something on her bed: the same candies that Feyre had offered her in the Night Court.

Nimue felt her body vibrating with joy, feeling seen and loved. That someone, anyone, had thought of her and had managed to get those candies there.

She took the first one and brought it to her mouth, immersed in that intoxicating sensation that eating something so delicious produced in her, and didn't realize that Azriel was there, among the shadows cast by the moonlight in the room.

He simply remained silent, watching her in the midst of that raid she was carrying out on the candies he had left there, so she wouldn't forget. So she wouldn't forget that her place was in Velaris, with them.

With us.

"I'm glad you liked the surprise."

Nimue wasn't even surprised. She just kept enjoying the candies, glancing over her shoulder at Azriel.

"I knew deep down in your heart you'd end up caring for me."

She turned completely towards him, mouth full of sweets, hands sticky, and Azriel could swear he would die right there.

How could he not care for her, when there was something inside him that melted every time he looked in her direction, when their skins brushed against each other?

"How has your day been? Are you alright, have they done anything to you?" Azriel's voice tinged with concern did not go unnoticed by Nimue, who, smiling at him again, dropped onto the bed. She patted the space next to her on the adorned quilt, but the Shadowsinger stood in front of her, looking down at her.

"They haven't done anything to me, don't worry. They wouldn't dare because they know what I'm capable of, and they've played their part well."

Azriel frantically searched for any marks of the wounds and blood he had seen on the princess's skin, but found that the only scars there were the usual ones, those covering the fingers of her hands and caused by all the hours training with weapons. He felt something inside him click again, his most primitive instinct to protect her relaxing when he saw her whole and unharmed.

"Good. I'll pass on everything you tell me to Rhysand, and if you need anything just ask."

Nimue bit her tongue. She needed something, but she wasn't going to ask for it out loud. She wasn't going to ask Azriel to stay there that night, next to her. She wasn't going to tell him that being back with her psychopathic cousins had stirred something inside her, that putting on that mask of the evil princess had brought her back to her former life, where her stay in Velaris would have been nothing but a fever dream.

They looked at each other, in silence, and it seemed that Azriel understood what Nimue wanted to say, even without her uttering a word. He held her hands, which he hadn't let go of all that time, and knelt in front of the princess.

"I'll stay guard while you sleep," he whispered. Nimue swallowed the lump forming in her throat and prayed to the Cauldron not to start crying at that moment. "I'll make sure nothing happens and you won't be alone. You rest."

Nimue nodded and quickly got into bed under Azriel's watchful gaze, and as she drifted off to sleep, she whispered to him:

"In a couple of days, we'll be back in Velaris, and I'll make sure you show me the best bakeries in the city."

Azriel smiled tenderly, watching as Nimue drifted off to sleep, and stood guard until the sun was high in the sky.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @superspideyparker @bookwormysblog

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #azriel x female!reader

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thirdtidemouse · 6 months

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i have to do more bc she isnt rly brought to life yet.. she will change a LOT... but this is dylan :-] (hammarlund? underhill?) i couldn't not do a hilda oc and i couldnt not make it a nervous werewolf. she stresses herself out but is surprisingly organised about cooking, one of the famously stressful activities. she spends a full day planning out a meal, cooking for herself and kaisa (thank god. that nerd cannot cook) and then asks for detailed reviews.

she is very stressed out about being a werewolf though. she has just finished being a teenager and this is kind of that all over again. she does not want ANYONE to find out and confides reluctantly only in kaisa. what she fears is people fearing her, and she feels like the moment her life has been pieced back together again, she's losing grip, again. it's almost a black hound situation when the people of trolberg hear about a werewolf sneaking around. some episode centred around the mystery ensues.

she likes food + music! although she's more of an amateur at music, she owns + plays a guitar, a mandolin, a banjo, and a harmonica. very folksy. she has a swedish-welsh accent. try and imagine it please.

the default sister dynamic is kaisa getting home from work late (she probably lives in a flat in/around the library), and dylan being in the midst of homemade ravioli or something with a sauce that took 6 hours. kaisa asks about her day to be polite. dylan tells her about the sauce that took 6 hours, a long hike, 3 different invasive plant species, a lot of butter, and the use of powertools. kaisa has been re-shelving niche history of magic books but got so caught up re-reading them that it also took up 6 hours. when they have eaten dylan asks for her opinion and scribes the whole thing down in her notebook as kaisa voices her 5 star yelp review. they do not ask anything else about each others days and interact mainly through dylan slow-motion fake-punching kaisa while she is trying to just hang out in the living room or do her work and is ignored. only when she is in a very good mood will kaisa fake-punch back. dylan has a lethal case of younger-sister-that-is-taller syndrome.

sorry for my handwriting but the vague outline of her backstory WHICH MAY PROBABLY CHANGE is:

from the time she was 8 and kaisa was 21, they lived alone together. kaisa became a full-fledged witch between then and age 25, when suspicion against witches was on the rise for a short while - dylan never became a witch, but the only trusted adults in her life (basically kaisa and tildy) were, and they decided it would be best for her to grow up somewhere less troublesome. they were both pretty messed up about her having to move away, dylan holding some kind of spite toward her sister for a while, and kaisa feeling incapable, guilty and ill-equipped to take care of her.

she went to school in wales at 12, living with as-yet-unspecified family members/friends, and while kaisa almost immediately regretted sending her away, dylan adjusted quickly and spent the rest of her school career there. after a few years she forgave kaisa, because she ultimately enjoys her life, but she is stilll missed at home. at 17 going on 18 she became a werewolf (whether she was bitten or it was always in her somewhere?) and four months later she finished sixth form and called kaisa out of the blue asking if she could come and move in. since they didn't live in trolberg before, she's new to the city.

i will write more cohesively about her relationships to other characters/flesh her out more later, ESPECIALLY the werewolf stuff, but now i have to go to bed. thank you for reading :-] feel free to ask/suggest anything about her!! i love discussing hilda ocs

by the way this is i think my first ever actual OC? i've made up others before but they've just been single designs i've never really thought much about their actual selves because i suck at writing. dylan is the first one thats really stuck. part of her is based off myself and people i know, most of her is not. the main similarity between us is double-denim.

this is fun though. critique is welcome

(obviously her werewolf self is a swedish elkhound. i know the design kind of just looks like a furry im working on it)

#hilda the series #hilda netflix #kaisa #dylan #hilda oc #original character #im going to bed sorry this is not proofread

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elspethdekarios · 3 months

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Faerûnian Writing Challenge: Day 10

Feb 10. First time after a love confession

NSFW 🔞 !!!

Gale x Female OC

This is basically just what I imagine happens in the bed romance scene. I wanted to do something different by writing in present tense and also from Gale's POV. Hope you enjoy!!

Elspeth offers her hand, and he takes it in his own as he climbs over her. A shiver runs through him at the sensation of her hands on his back. Gods, it's been so long since he's touched someone like this. A mortal, even longer. He only just began daring to touch himself again. After a year abstaining from excitement of any kind in fear of the orb, having that feeling be sated felt... odd. Like the ball could drop again at any moment. But as the days went on and he finally felt like he was not a ticking time bomb ready to level a city at the drop of a hat, he began to allow his mind to wander, his fantasies to take hold of him, his thoughts before drifting off to sleep to be consumed by her. Elspeth. Even her name on his tongue stirs electricity inside of him. He started slow, testing the waters with just a few gentle strokes, keeping as quiet as possible in his tent, but even the feeling of his own hand made him let out an intense breath of relief, of pleasure. After a few days of this, he concluded that the orb was indeed still stable, and he truly let his desires take hold of him. Every day, he watched her travel, fight, plan, strategize. Every day, she spoke to him with genuine interest and curiosity. He was beginning to accept that maybe she actually did enjoy his company. After all, she could take her pick of companions to socialize with. And she did make an effort with everyone, that was true. But he'd taken notice of the way she'd ask him for spell concentration advice, inquire about his studies back home--hells, she would even walk all the way across camp to ask him to open a jar for her when Karlach or Wyll were clearly closer to the food chest and obviously stronger than him.

So he began to let himself think of her, imagine her hand was the one exploring under his covers, wondering what her lips would feel like on his. What kind of kisser was she? Soft and tender? Passionate and eager? He didn't much care, really. He just wanted her. Soon his thoughts would drift to her body. The first night that he let himself imagine her unclothed, he came within seconds. And he has thought about it every night since, even daring to imagine what it would feel like to be inside her. Wondering what positions are her favorite and which ones she's never tried. He feels confident that he can last a perfectly average amount of time now, here with her. And considering this may be his last night alive, he knew he had to take a chance.

She caresses his face, pulling him in for a kiss, deliberate and tender before increasing in passion. A sense of desperation is palpable in them both. She tugs at the hem of his tunic, and he rises to his knees to let her take it off. Her soft hands run down his chest and abdomen as she admires his body. It's the first time he's been touched since Mystra. The first time he's been touched by mortal hands in years. The warmth of her palms feels like home. He has to take a moment to feel it all, to place his hands on hers, now resting on his thighs, to let the sensation of her flesh, her presence fully sink in.

"Gale," she says softly, "are you alright?"

He nods.

"More than alright." He leans back over her, pressing kisses to her neck. "Just taking you in."

He slides his hands under her top, sighing with relief and excitement when he realizes she's not wearing a bra. He pulls the shirt over her head to reveal modestly sized but plump, perky breasts, prickling from the cool night air.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he says as he runs his hands over them, ducking his head and savoring the soft skin on his face. She reaches for his pants and he reaches for hers, becoming a tangle of limbs increasingly bare.

"I've wanted this for so long," Elspeth breathes, discarding the last article of clothing to the side of the bed. He hovers above her, kissing her lips between words.

"So have I," he says. "Since the day you pulled me out of that rock, I've dreamed of knowing you this intimately."

He lifts up to kneel between her legs, spreading them slowly apart, growing harder than he thought possible at the pink wetness he finds there. He places his hands on her hips and trails kisses down, stopping before he gets there. Her panting grows heavy with anticipation.

They meet eyes across her body as his hands move closer and closer.

"May I?"

She nods fervently, running her hand through his hair. He kisses her wrist before dropping his head and putting his tongue to good use. She writhes in pleasure as he tastes her, and hells, she tastes good. He's sure this must be the nectar of the gods, Elspeth Ambrosia.

The sensation of her nails gently trailing across his scalp makes him moan into her, which makes her grip his hair and push her hips up to his face. She writhes in pleasure, squealing softly between quickened breaths, before coaxing his face up with a hand on his chin. He lifts his head, meeting her eyes as she looks down her body. He can feel his heart swell at the pure love and longing in her expression, and he wants nothing but to take her, to love her, to make her feel pleasures unimaginable. Elspeth pulls him up, kissing his wet face with fervor, her tongue running over his lips, asking for permission to push into his mouth and tangle with his own. In a smooth motion, without breaking their kiss, she brings her legs up towards her chest and angles her hips. The tip of him feels her warmth, just barely touching him, and effortlessly he pushes himself into her, groaning as her heat envelops him. He pulls away from her kiss, wanting to see her face as she moans, wanting to know she's enjoying herself as much as he is. He gets his answer when she gives him a sensual smile and whispers "I love you."

He keeps his thrusts slow, pushing a little deeper into her each time and savoring every noise that comes from her lips, unable to keep himself from kissing them for more than a few moments. Graceful fingers caress his face, his shoulders, his back. When they run across his scalp again, he can feel himself getting too close to completely unraveling.

"You are phenomenal," he mutters into her neck as he pulls himself out of her. "I want this to last forever."

Twisting to the side, El guides him onto his back and swings a leg over his waist, reciprocating the kisses he trailed along her neck.

"Then let's take our time."

Gale wraps his arms around her body, hugging her tight to his chest as if she might float away. Her skin is soft and warm against his own. She rests her head on his shoulder and runs her fingers through his hair as she presses lingering kisses to his cheek. The orb on his chest glows a pulsating violet.

"Does it hurt when it does that?" she asks, touching the scarred skin with a gentle fingertip.

"Sometimes," he answers. "But not right now."

Her lips move down his neck to the center of his chest. She kisses its center with a tenderness that he doesn't know he's ever felt from another being. It surprises him. He rests a hand on the back of her head and presses a kiss to her starlight blonde hair.

Gods, he's in love with this woman. A love deeper than he's ever known.

Their kissing grows heavier as passion overtakes them again. Giving him a full view of her body, Elspeth hovers over him before she lowers herself to take all of him inside, exhaling as she does. A rhythm finds their hips as she rides him, his thumb rubbing circles over that most sensitive spot until she's crying out with pleasure, all restraint abandoned.

Hands on her waist, Gale flips her to her back, pushing one of her legs up to her chest as he thrusts into her again and again, still rubbing circles between her thighs, finally letting his body take over as his mind goes quiet. One of her hands grips the forearm he's using to hold himself up, the other gripping the sheets as her cries grow louder and louder. He feels her begin to tighten and pulsate around him, and as she lets out the most intense sound she's made so far, pleasure washes over him. A consuming, overwhelming, heavenly climax that gives way to relief. Peace. Complete and utter satisfaction.

Both breathing heavily, Gale collapses next to Elspeth as they stare up at the canopy above them. She pulls back the sheets and slides underneath them, lifting the fabric for Gale to do the same. He snuggles close to her, takes her into his arms, and kisses her forehead. To hold her close is a bliss he's never known with another lover, mortal or otherwise. It's the first time he's felt like himself in a year. It's the first time he's felt wholly, fully content in his life.

To sleep peacefully in her embrace is enough to make him believe that everything will be okay.

#BG3FicFeb #gale #my writing #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #gale x oc #gale x tav #gale fanfic #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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papaver-decervicatus · 10 months

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Headcanons- König (featuring a bit of Sebastian Krueger)

Authors Note: Full disclosure, at this point König is basically an OC of mine with how specifically I think of him. Which, in fairness, cannot be helped when his entire characterization is limited to 20 mins of voice lines, 131 words in his bio, and multiplayer animations exclusively. I feel similarly about a lot of the other SpecGru/KorTac operators but König is definetely the most fleshed out because I've been writing a lot about him (at this point, like 30k words extended universe thing whoo-ee.)

A tag for the lovely @kneelingshadowsalome who has inspired me to write the above mentioned story and all this silly little world building about one of our favorite masked murder men~! Thanks for being so kind and pushing me to publish my work after so long ❣️

⚠️TW: Mentions of abuse, murder, undiagnosed mental struggles, ableism (?), sexual assault, and human trafficking

Birthday, March 15th, 1982

Full name: Julius Kilgore Doss

Early Life and Backstory

Born and raised in the slums of Vienna, Austria to a poor family. His father was frequently unemployed but focused on manual labor jobs (he was also like 6'10 like his son,) and his mother worked various hospitality jobs.

He gets his first name from being born on the Ides of March.

Teasingly called “Kaiser” as a child for his name. This resulted in a minor obsession with Roman history in an attempt to disprove these accusations. That failed.

Result of a “baby trap” from his father. His parents got married when he was 3 years old.

He is an only child, and he was an incredibly complicated pregnancy. His mother was on bed rest for two trimesters.

He was born with a pretty severe cleft palette, this was the original cause of his bullying

When König was 12 or so he got his cleft palate surgically corrected, but he got permanent scarring from the event.

This did not help his bullying. The site became infected and required multiple follow-up surgeries to correct.

He was severely abused by his father, who would frequently intentionally scar König in an attempt to “toughen” his “shy” son up.

The behaviors he was trying to correct were just König’s undiagnosed neurodivergence and the abuse did nothing but make König retreat further into himself.

Undiagnosed au/dhd. Primarily manifests in masking in a need of control of his environment.

As much as he desires company, he has such a hard time relating to others (not because he lacks empathy, but he experiences it differently) he tends to be a loner save a few very close loved ones.

Sebastian Krueger is his mother’s brother’s son. Krueger's father was in the military.

Originally joined the military to get away from his hell of home life at Krueger's father's recommendation. Has re-enlisted ever since.

König is 3 years older than Krueger (March 29th, 1985) and the two grew up together.

Krueger also had a little sister but she died in a car accident at 11 along with his mom. From then on, Krueger's father, König’s mother, and father, Krueger and König all lived in a medium-sized flat in Vienna. The two shared bedrooms often.

Krueger was well known as a serial delinquent and general creep when they were growing up. Despite his harsh reputation, König always stood up for him (which did not help his bullying). The only time he didn’t was when he beat Krueger to a bloody pulp for attempting to assault a girl.

Krueger never attempted that again and later thanked König reluctantly for setting him straight before he did something really stupid.

Krueger never stood up for König in front of his face for fear of showing weakness but definitely threw some punches behind his back in his stead (which further isolated König).

When he was 19 and came back from his first deployment, Krueger's father had a mental break and lit the flat on fire after murdering König’s father. Krueger was out at the time.

He got in time to save his mother, but he gained third-degree scars on the right side of his face, cheek, and over a lot of his legs.

Super insecure about it, and avoids wearing shorts like the plague.

Will never admit it, super fucking glad his dad died.

Very close with his mother's mother, his Oma. When she got too old to live on her own, she moved in with König’s mom and she gave König her house near Gosau, Austria.

Credits the metal scene as single-handedly saving his life at 13. He went to jump off a bridge and was talked down by a local metal band bass player who was 17 at the time. The two became friends and König joined the metal scene.

He became sort of a stagehand for local bands and bulked up as a result. Found he liked working out (because people were less likely to make fun of him) so he kept at it.

Got the nickname “König” from underground bare-knuckle boxing rings. He was scouted at a bar during a fight at 15 (he was 6’3 at the time, and still growing) where he beat up someone for attempting to spike a girl's drink when he was there helping his bass player friend.

He fought for around 3 years on and off and never lost a fight. He made decent money and learned a lot of stuff about sparring in the process.

He didn’t stop his tendency for fighting in the service and got reprimanded a couple of times for picking fights with soldiers he disagreed with.

Has yet to lose a one-on-one spar with another man, but hasn’t fought anyone outside of training sparring in years.

Appearance

6’10 and 280lbs at his peak, trapezoid body type. Athleticism most resembles a Hockey Player or a Boxer. Has lost some musculature with age but definitely stays on top of it.

His face is partially numb because of all the surgeries to correct his cleft palate and all the scarring.

Even though it’s been years since any trauma to the area, he has sort of a “disquieting effect” because he doesn’t emote properly from the numbness. Mostly just numb around the bottom of his “Greek-style” nose and through his burn scars. Smiles appear lopsided as a result

Strawberry blond, pin-straight hair, that gets darker when he’s deployed because the hood blocks sunlight bleaching.

As a teenager he let it grow down to his shoulders because he was involved in the local Vienna metal scene, when he joined the military he cut it short. Doesn’t care because no one sees it anyways. It’s usually in a crew-cut style.

Hair has thinned as he's gotten older, will probably bald at some point (but I hold onto hope that that one person on twitter who teased that his model does actually have hair is right because I think it would be funny for him to have an elaborate braid or something)

He has bunny teeth that he never bothered getting corrected because he was bullied so badly he kind of gave up on vanity.

Has stretch marks all over his body because he’s so massive, they tend to act up during the winter.

He is not vain enough to do anything about them besides moisturizing when needed.

Generally does the bare minimum extra besides keeping himself clean.

Uses generic military-grade laundry soap, generic antiperspirant, and unscented lotion, but he does use spruce-scented aftershave and tea tree shampoo.

Likes having facial hair, but rarely gets to.

Plenty of Freckles, beauty marks, moles, etc. beige cool-toned skin otherwise.

Has various tattoos but no piercings. Tattoos include

Skull with a crown on his left shoulder

Trash polka war scene sleeve on his right arm through the shoulder.

Bleeding Laurel crown on his sternum

Dagger at the base of his neck

Various basic things like a lion, some roses, a couple of guns

Does not wear the hood when not on duty, it was originally a last minute addition to his uniform for anonymity when in the field working with terrorists.

General

Blood type is AB+

Contrary to popular belief, is not shy so much as he is awkward. Has built up a sarcastic, cocky, and harsh persona to avoid (what is in his mind) inevitable heartbreak and betrayal by those closest to him.

Genuinely cocky. He believes his own hype on that front.

Actually, a big teddy bear but, next to nobody gets close enough to him to find that out.

He (probably) has ADHD that manifests in nervous movement.

Never got tested, never will.

Struggles with anxiety that leads to depression, but the military was decently good for his mental health because of the strict scheduling and forced camaraderie.

Does not have a temper problem as much as he has an impulse problem. He doesn’t get into fights because he’s angry, he gets into fights because he’s a cocky bastard who knows he’ll win and he wants to speed up the process of others leaving him alone/deferring to his plans

The big difference between König and Krueger is that König wants control over his surroundings and others to be comfortable, and Krueger wants others to be uncomfortable and he wants control over others and he doesn’t care about his surroundings.

König mostly wants to throw his weight around to get left on his own, and Krueger wants to manipulate others to do his bidding.

König would solve an ethical disagreement by explaining himself until he came to blows with the other party.

Krueger would go behind their back once he knew he wasn’t going to get his way, but wouldn’t result in physical violence immediately.

Krueger needs other people to feel powerful and in control; he doesn’t really believe that he has an equal or a superior. He thinks in terms of leverage and power.

König feels less powerful and in control when he has a ton of other people in the mix: he doesn’t like the unknown variable of a possible weak link. He thinks in terms of self-sufficiency and sacrifice.

Wanted to be a sniper because the position is a solitary one, he wants to be put in positions where he doesn’t have to trust other people because he simply does not trust other people

He is a really good shot

Often Times gets into little skirmishes with snipers because of jealousy

Another reason he couldn’t be a sniper was his red/green colorblindness. It’s moderate to severe.

He is a people watcher, he is genuinely concerned with the people around him. Will remember even the smallest details if he’s close to someone (which is a hard position to earn.)

Has a very duplicitous way about him. Cunning, ruthless, and bloodthirsty on the field but in reality he’s a very agitated, demure sort of guy off the clock, especially in crowds.

Gets his “berserker” energy out on the battlefield. Is typically much more relaxed in “civilian” life or when in leadership positions.

Chronically the instructor who starts off making every recruit shit themselves but becomes a base favorite after basic training when he opens up and shreds a bass solo at drunk karaoke night

He hates civilian life for more than 6 months at a time. If he has to go much longer than that without doing something related to field work he gets incredibly antsy and like. Decides to build a whole ass barn on his property from scratch because he always has to have something to do.

Was promoted to Colonel incredibly young (32) for the position due to his exemplary ability as an insertions specialist and as a leader. Never attempted a rank above it because of forced retirement requirements.

The only reason I can personally see my version of König in KorTac is because somewhere along the line he fucked up and was either going to be forcibly retired or put out of active combat in the Austrian Special Forces.

You don’t become a Colonel in the military for fun and desert for merc work, and shitty merc work at that.

More than likely I think he was supposed to retire and that made him have a midlife crisis because König doesn’t see himself as a person, he sees himself as a soldier. Without the army, he’s nothing. He needs that stability, that outlet, that free pass at total carnage- so when the army told him he had to call it quits, he “retired” and went to KorTac under the specific condition that his name not get used for fear of tarnishing the Austrian special forces.

Not a particularly big “Austrian culture” nut but he has his moments.

Prefers Austrian foods that he grew up with, likes beer a lot (and has gotten drunk only once in his life because he’s. Fuckoff massive,) and doesn’t care about culture/history all that much.

He more or less just finds comfort in stuff that reminds him of the happier parts of his childhood, mostly the mountains.

König considers himself “traditional” in the sense that he doesn’t believe women should be on the front lines of combat. If he has to attack an enemy woman, he much prefers it to be with a gun at long range.

Doesn’t necessarily think of women as “lesser” instead he firmly believes that they are superior to men because they are better humans, less violent, etc.

The number one hatred in life is men who are sex traffickers.

Hatred was acquired from his work.

Has had various stints in therapy because of what he’s seen.

Fond memories of the house he inherited from his Oma It’s where he lives when not deployed.

He also has a decently expensive townhouse in Vienna, mostly from when he was a colonel and he needed to be close to Vienna for work-related reasons.

Has a shitton of money from his work that he just doesn’t spend on anything. Drives a shitty car, and inherited a nice house, he doesn’t have anything to spend it on so he ends up giving most of it to his mom, grandma, and local charities. Still always has a ton left over.

Is a lumberjack and carpenter for hobbies, and built most of the furniture in the house.

Very much enjoys the alpine lifestyle. Hunts his own game, leatherworks, the whole nine yards.

This bitch cannot draw. Stick figures that look like marks dogs made with pens in their teeth. Awful, awful, awful at drawing.

Very much an “audio person” who can remember anything he’s heard but has sort of a terrible sight memory.

His handwriting is so bad it puts 6-year-olds to shame.

Not overly religious, but believes in god, more as a “wow. What a sicko. Makin everything then fucking it up” sort of way. Prays on occasion.

Doesn’t watch tv or movies. Would rather listen to music, go hiking, or read nonfiction books in his free time.

Small psychology fascination. He’s read a lot of early psychology essays, he’s the kind of guy who likes to read shit from Freud and go “I’m bad but thank god I’m not this fucked up”

The punchline, of course, is that he is that fucked up.

The most expensive thing he owns (discounting his guns, knives, car, or house) is a custom long-double neck electric bass.

Her name is Wulkyrie

Extensive custom knife collection. Finds cleaning them soothing.

His favorite is a Custom Glock Field Knife that is 10 inches long, has a serrated edge on the bottom, and has a red hand chord he wrapped himself.

Has the engraving of an Edelweiss flower at the base, her name is Kaiserin (empress)

She is his prized possession. Goes nowhere without it.

He also has a gun collection. It is much smaller due to firearm restrictions, but he certainly has many more than is necessary.

Mostly hunting rifles. Probably also has a custom game bow.

He can handle being a leader, but he does not enjoy it. He hates being under people, too. He is such a good leader, though, because he hates the position and the power that comes with it, so his troops are the most self-sufficient, inventive, and well-trained platoon in the army at any given time. He creates other leaders because he’s a very selfless commander.

Believes the mark of a great leader is not the willingness to lead, but instead the reluctance to let others get hurt. The only thing he hates more than having someone tell him what to do is letting down someone beneath him.

He’s taken the fall for many of his subordinates' screw-ups, but he’s an all-or-nothing guy. If you’re not loyal to him, your ass is grass.

Bonus! Romance HCs (very very very slightly NSFW)

Gave up on dating early in his military career. He had a couple of short-term girlfriends, each he ended upon realizing he probably couldn’t be there for them like they wanted.

Not sexually inexperienced, but rarely has partners more than once or twice. Has had sex with ten different people in his life tops.

Simultaneously very badly wants to and is completely terrified of being a father. Should the stars align, he’d want nothing more than to have a full house with a lovely wife and a gaggle of little ones in the Alps.

Would want a traditional Austrian wedding, especially fond of the “bride stealing” tradition.

preferably a capable woman he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving in the mountains, would also probably only end up with a pretty extroverted partner who pursued him first.

They fell first, he fell much much much much harder. Admires her from afar for a long time but doesn’t think he’s worthy so he never makes the first move. Once he realizes that she’s not going anywhere and can handle herself, he’s violently loyal.

Also desperately wants a partner who is less strong than him so he can feel like his strength can be put to good use in protecting them.

Has a marking fixation, clothing, jewelry, hickies, bruises, cum, etc.

Anniversary presents include modest but expensive jewelry, knives, tools, and replacement bed frames for the ones that. Got broken. Whoops!

Love languages are receiving physical touch and words of affirmation. Giving is physical touch and acts of service.

#navigation -> headcanon tag #könig mw2 #könig cod #cod mwii #könig

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naughtyneganjdm · 5 months

Text

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 10

Summary: After a confrontation, Negan finally erupts on Hershel for the way he is with his daughters. Y/N opens up to Negan about what she discovered with Beau.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Beau, Maggie, Hershel, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/133666453

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, smut, etc.

Notes: I'm working really hard to get this story done. I've written a lot of it and have most of it done, just have to edit it and put it up. Thanks to those that take the time to comment. You guys really make my day.

A soft rustling sound filled the air drawing Negan to lift his head up from the pillows. Amongst the darkness, he saw nothing. That was one thing about being in the attic, it sure did get dark at night. Faint footsteps were heard and it made him smile. Getting more comfortable in the bed, Negan pretended to be sleeping. After he left Y/N and Beau, Negan just came upstairs and let things cool down which took a while. With how long Y/N was being in returning to him, he was starting to think that she had forgotten about him, but with the bottom of the bed dipping he was happy that it seemed otherwise. A soft tug of the sheets was felt before they were being thrown up so she could crawl under them up the bed.

“What in the world are you doing?” Negan snickered feeling the warmth of hands caressing up and over his thighs toward his hips. Sucking on his bottom lip, Negan hummed and dropped his head back into the pillows. Huffing out, he felt fingers hooking into the waistband of his pajamas tugging on them along with his boxer briefs. “Oh, I see.”

Lifting his hips, Negan helped get the material down to the bottom of his waist and he swallowed down hard. It did only seem fair that since Y/N left him with a set of blue balls that she would come back and make up for it. An amused breath fell from his throat when he felt the warmth of breath over his manhood. The only thing he could see in the darkness was the movement under the blankets when faint kisses were being pressed over his hip, “Are you making up for earlier? You’ll have to do a good job because the blue balls are pretty bad.”

Hooking his arms behind his head, Negan stretched out his body and felt delicate fingers wrapping around the base of his cock giving his body small strokes. They were soft at first, working to get him hard and he hummed out. Pretty quickly the jerking motions got a little more aggressive and it made Negan grunt. This was a different choice of pace.

Closing his eyes, he felt the warmth of a mouth surrounding his semi erect cock and let out a long exhale. It was an attempt to get him fully hard and he knew that. It was vastly different than earlier, but the movements continued until she pulled her mouth away to stroke her fingers over his saliva covered length that was now rigid in her grasp.

“Come on,” Negan hissed, arching his hips upward toward her caress. This felt like another round of torturing him after what happened earlier. “If you want me coming down your throat, you have to do a whole lot better than that.”

Wincing, Negan felt the lips wrapping back around his body and he let out an uncomfortable breath with how rough she was being. Lowering his hand, he placed it over her head over the blankets and lifted his head up. Trying to fix the pace of her movements, Negan found himself frustrated with how much it actually hurt in comparison to felt good, “Listen, I know I said I wanted to come down your throat and you want payback for earlier, but you don’t have to suck the flesh off the damn thing.”

Getting up on his elbows, Negan grunted reaching over to turn on the light that was beside the bed. Flicking it on, he pulled back the sheets and let out a shocked gasp when it revealed that it was Maggie beneath the sheets. Immediately he reached to pull her from his body and pulled himself up on the bed to press his back against the headboard.

“Maggie!” Negan’s voice came out angry with confusion flooding into her green eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Was it that bad?” she was surprised to see Negan reacting that way to her trying to give him a blowjob. Swiftly, Negan tugged his pants back up over his hips and huffed. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve given you a blowjob, but I just thought I would come up here since it’s been a while and I thought we could use some personal time.”

“Rough would be an understatement when it came to the blowjob,” Negan reached down to wrap his fingers around his erection to give it a squeeze. Overwhelmed, he lowered his head and cussed out to himself knowing that he thought it was Y/N sneaking into his room to finish the job that she started earlier. “What were you doing?”

“Well, I was planning on coming in here to get you hard and thought about riding you as a surprise, but then you started talking about wanting to come down my throat,” she reminded him, getting comfortable on her knees and frowning at the way that Negan was acting. “It was probably because it was dark. You know that I like seeing what I’m doing. I can do better.”

“No,” Negan shook his head, scrambling with her hands when she reached for his pants again in attempts to go back to what she was doing. An offended expression flooded Maggie’s features and he immediately shook his head. “Stop it.”

“First you talk about wanting to come down my throat and now you are being prude,” Maggie pointed out with a huff watching Negan folding his arms out in front of his chest. There was still a prominent tent in his pajama pants and she didn’t understand why he was doing this. “Your dick is hard right now and you’re turning me down.”

“Maggie, not to be an asshole, but that wasn’t really the best blowjob you’ve given,” Negan admitted, reaching for a pillow to cover his lap and he shook his head. It irritated him that she was able to give him an erection because if he would have known it was her to begin with, Negan would have never wanted that to happen. “Being truthful, that shit kind of hurt and you’ve never done it like that before.”

“I told you it was because it was dark,” she repeated in a frustrated tone trying to caress over Negan’s thighs. “If my mouth isn’t good enough, just use me. I know it will feel better inside of me,” she crawled in over Negan placing her hands in over his shoulders. “I know you like it there. You always have.”

“What is with the sudden urge to climb my dick?” Negan inquired, his eyebrows furrowing when she tried pulling the pillow from his lap. They were struggling with the pillow and Maggie let out a frustrated huff. “Why do you need it inside of you right now?”

“Why are you fighting this so hard?” she shoved his chest further back against the headboard. A grunt fell from his throat when she managed to pull the pillow away to toss it aside. God, Negan wished he was anywhere but here right now. “You are fucking hard, let’s fix that.”

“I don’t have a condom,” Negan blurt out, his hands swatting at hers when she tried to reach for his pants again. Swatting his hands back had him returning the gesture and soon they looked like ridiculous children. “Enough Maggie!”

“Pull out before you come,” she suggested throwing her hands up and his laugh followed. “Why do you sound like that?”

“How often have you told people that?” Negan frowned, tipping his head to the side. It took her a minute, but then suddenly she seemed offended. “I didn’t…I don’t mean it like that.”

“I’ve been dating you for six months Negan. I’m not some slut that has been sleeping around,” Maggie snapped at him, hitting him in the chest. Wincing out, Negan reached for the pillow again to cover himself back up since she was so eager to get on that part of him. “Even if you did come in me, I’m on the pill you know. I don’t think it’s much of a problem if I wanted you to do that.”

“You want me to come inside of you now?” Negan wondered, his eyebrows arching up when she huffed out. That was never something they had talked about before. They were always pretty careful about things and now she was just throwing caution to the wind. “Why?”

“Why not?” she lowered herself down in over his thighs, bracing her weight on his legs. Still she was caressing at his body and he knew that she was still trying to tempt him into giving her what she wanted.

“Because,” Negan huffed out with a heat flooding his face. This was just getting more awkward the longer that it went on. Dragging his hand down over his face, he wished that this would just end, but Maggie kept going.

“Because why?” she pushed back and he let out a hesitant laugh feeling uneasy about this whole conversation.

“Because you could get pregnant!” Negan reasoned with her, his face scrunching up when he thought about everything.

“And getting pregnant with me would be a bad thing?” Maggie frowned and it made Negan stammer to find words, but he just stared out at her flustered. Well that was new. Never in their time being together did they talk about wanting to have children. In fact, it was her just focusing on wanting to be married that she was stressing most often. “Would getting me pregnant be a bad thing? Is Lucille the only person good enough to have your babies?”

“I am so confused right now,” Negan noticed that she seemed to be overly emotional about the idea of him not having unprotected sex with her. “Do you want my babies? Is that why you came in here? Because you want me to get you pregnant?”

“Not really,” she was honest and it made Negan laugh which only seemed to make her even more furious. But he couldn’t help being amused with this whole thing that was going on. Having her getting mad at him over something she didn’t even want seemed crazy to him.

“Then why are we having this discussion? You know how much I come and I have strong swimmers,” Negan suggested noticing the way she looked down toward his lap. It made him drop his head down before slowly lifting his head up to meet her fierce green eyes. “What?”

“You told me yourself that you hate condoms,” she reminded him and Negan’s face twisted. Sure, that was something he may have said, but he still wore them with her. He knew better. “How often did you wear condoms when you were with Lucille?”

“Never,” Negan replied back with a simple shrug. That was a silly question though. They were married and they had been together most of their lives. “But Lucille was my wife and she wanted to have my babies.”

“I’ve been with you six months, why do you have a hard time with the idea of not wearing condoms with me? We haven’t even had sex in a very long time,” Maggie reminded him with a frown and Negan reached out to caress in over the sides of her shoulders.

“It’s complicated,” Negan muttered, sucking at his bottom lip as she shifted further up over him. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of condoms because it doesn’t feel as good. Have you ever put on a really tight glove? That’s kind of what it feels like. But the good thing about condoms is it desensitizes things a bit and it makes you last longer.”

“You last long enough Negan,” Maggie huffed and Negan groaned out, dropping his head back against the headboard. “We know you can last for quite some time.”

“Not all the time,” Negan countered, lowering his head with his eyebrows bouncing up. “Sometimes I come immediately. I’m a guy. That shit happens.”

“In the time I’ve been with you, I’ve never seen that happen,” she reminded him feeling angrier the more they spoke to one another. Negan frowned and slumped forward while she continued to go off on him. “Sure, we’ve had some shorter experiences, but that’s because they’ve had to be. Sometimes, in my head I’m begging for you to come when I’m giving you a blowjob, my jaw can’t always take it.”

“Fair enough,” Negan stammered, his eyes narrowing and that’s all he said.

“Then just fuck me Negan,” she slid her hands further in over the center of his pants only to have Negan grab a tight hold of her wrists to lift them up.

“Maggie, I appreciate that you want me to give you a creampie, but I’m really not interested right now,” Negan stressed wishing she would just take no for an answer.

“Why not?” she frowned, reaching for the bottom of her shirt to pull it up over her body revealing her bare breasts that were underneath. It had Negan’s face flushing over and he lowered his head. Reaching out, she curled her finger in underneath his jaw forcing him to look at her.

“Sex is messy Maggie. We’re in your father’s home. He already hates me. How am I going to explain that I need to wash my sheets in the morning?” Negan rambled on trying to find every reason in the book to prove why they shouldn’t. Maggie was doing everything possible to get him to sleep with her and he was doing everything he could to avoid it.

“What is going on with you Negan?” Maggie brushed her fingers through his hair, looking down. “You love my breasts and you’re not even reacting.”

“It’s complicated,” Negan stressed when she reached for his face to cup it in her hands.

“It’s not that complicated. You’re hard, I’m wet…” she reached for the pillow to place it beside him on the bed. Crawling in over him had him huffing out when she started rocking her hips over his groin. “If you don’t want to be in control, I’ll take my pants off and I will ride you until you come. Wouldn’t you like that? Being balls deep inside of me? Draining you of your release?”

“Maggie,” Negan hissed, grabbing her hips in attempt to stop her movements over him. “We’re at your family’s home. Your father has threatened me multiple times. My children are right under us…”

“And you were okay with me sucking you dry moments ago,” she prompted him letting out a huff when Negan carefully moved her from over him. Negan stood up from the bed and reached for her shirt to hand it over to her. “Do you not find me beautiful anymore?”

“Of course I find you beautiful Maggie,” Negan shot her a glare, throwing his hand up in the air. Moving over toward another part of the attic, he sat down in a seat and shook his head. “There are just things that have happened, things that I know…”

“What do you know?” Maggie seemed nervous, her green eyes searching his features as if she was trying to read something from him. Getting her shirt back on, Maggie slid back onto Negan’s bed and rest her back against the wall.

“A lot,” Negan exhaled talking about his emotions and more so how he felt toward Y/N.

“How did you find out?” she whispered, her head lowering down and suddenly they both went silent. Tipping his head to the side, Negan bit down on his bottom lip with his thick eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry Negan. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“What are we talking about right now?” Negan inquired, his jawline flexing when he noticed the shift in the conversation. “Maggie?”

“I thought…” she lifted her head, pulling herself further to the edge of Negan’s bed. “What are we talking about right now, Negan?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Negan stressed with another raspy laugh. “You are confusing the fuck outta me with this back and forth. What’s really going on right now?”

Both of them were silent. Standing up from the chair, Negan moved before the bed and snapped his fingers to get her to look up at him, “I think the two of us need to talk.”

“I agree,” she whispered, her green eyes narrowing out at him when she nervously brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I need to talk to you about something. Something important.”

“As do I,” Negan lowered down onto the bed, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when Maggie slid in closer to him. “Do you want to go first?”

“No, not really,” Maggie hesitantly laughed, noticing the way that Negan was staring out at her. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Negan pushed for her to go on only to hear the sound of the door opening at the bottom of the stairs. Slow steps were heard up the stairs and when they got to the top, Negan was met with the glare of Hershel. “Hershel. Hey there.”

“Hey there?” Hershel made his way into the attic, moving over toward the chair that was across from Negan and Maggie who were in the bed together. “What’s the one thing I asked of you Negan?”

“You’ve asked a lot,” Negan looked to Maggie whose face was flushed over with embarrassment. “What are we talking about?”

“I asked for you to stay in your separate rooms,” Hershel reminded Negan who let out an amused laugh and shook his head. “Do you find my rules funny?”

“A little bit. As we’re both adults and she’s far from being underage,” Negan declared with a shake of his head. “I respect your rules Hershel, but Maggie has been my girlfriend for six months.”

“Yes, but what goes on under my roof? Now that’s different,” Hershel snapped at Negan, lifting his finger to point it at Negan. With tension in the air, Negan felt his neck flexing. “How long has Maggie been up here?”

“I don’t know. Like, fifteen minutes,” Negan suggested looking to Maggie for some kind of answer, but she didn’t have something to come back with.

“That’s enough time for something bad to happen. Is it not?” Hershel looked between them and it made Negan snort. An amused rumble fell from Negan’s throat and he rolled his eyes. “Did the two of you have sex under my roof?”

“First of all, I need more than fifteen minutes,” Negan answered Hershel with a shake of his head. Yeah, he was being arrogant right now, but Hershel was pissing him off and he was letting loose. “Even on my worst day, you need time for foreplay. Get things started. You can’t play a game of hide the hotdog without preparing the bun. You know what I mean Hershel?”

“Negan!” Maggie blurt out embarrassed that Negan was saying what he was in front of her father. “What the hell?”

“Oh come on Maggie. This is ridiculous. Sure, if I was really eager, I could fuck you in fifteen minutes, but what the hell does it matter?” Negan inquired hearing Hershel’s breathing getting uneven and angrier the more he listened to Negan go off. “It’s not like the two of us haven’t had sex before. And we both know I’m not the first guy that you slept with.”

“Maggie, why don’t you go to your room?” Hershel stood up from the seat that he was in, pointing toward the stairs. Maggie remained still on Negan’s bed, unsure of her next move. “I asked you to do something young lady, I suggest you listen.”

“No, Maggie. You do what you want,” Negan looked to her, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “Because no one has the right to tell you what you can and cannot do in life. If you want to go to your bedroom, go. If you want to stay, stay. Because unlike your father, I will not be a man that tells a woman what she can and cannot do in life.”

“Negan, I don’t mind going to my room,” Maggie realized that tensions were growing between Negan and her father. “If it makes my father feel more comfortable…”

“If that’s what you want, I’m not going to force you to stay here,” Negan’s expression softened and he nodded his head. Standing up from the bed, Maggie stopped when she got to the top of the stairs and sighed when she looked back at Negan. “I understand.”

“Daddy. Why don’t you just come down with me,” Maggie held her hand out to Hershel, but his glare was still locked on Negan. “It’s not worth the fight.”

“Go to your room Maggie,” Hershel ordered, his tone angry when he refused to look at her. Negan shot Maggie an amused expression, his head dropping forward when he stroked his fingers over the back of his neck. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Yeah,” Maggie frowned realizing that things were just going to get worse between Negan and her father. It was two Alpha males butting heads and Negan started something more with her father which wasn’t going to end well. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” both men responded, waiting until Maggie left the room and Negan stood before Hershel waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t Negan looked around the attic and threw his hands up in the air.

“What would you have done if when you came up here I was balls deep inside of your daughter Hershel?” Negan spoke up, making sure to sound cocky and arrogant in the way he was talking to the man before him. “That sure as hell would have been awkward, wouldn’t it have been?”

“Boy, you’ve got a lot of nerve,” Hershel finally spoke, his jaw clenching. That wasn’t exactly the first response that Negan was expecting, but it fit for Hershel Greene. “You come into my house and you be disrespectful of me and my wishes.”

“Me? It was your daughter sneaking into my room Hershel,” Negan threw his hand up in the air showing that they were standing in the attic. “I’m not the one that snuck into your daughter’s room. I am wondering something though, does this rule only apply to Maggie? Because I don’t see you up Glenn’s ass about going into Y/N’s room. Which he did do the other day in front of you. Are you showing favorites again Hershel?”

“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” Hershel questioned, stepping forward toward Negan who stood his ground. Bringing his hand up, Negan pressed his fingers over the center of his chest and made an overdramatic expression.

“I don’t think I’m smart Hershel. I know I’m smart,” Negan corrected Hershel with a shake of his head. “I have done my best to be respectful of you and to keep my head down, but I can’t put up with this shit anymore. Do you know what else I am? I am a better father than you.”

“Oh yeah?” Hershel’s eyebrow arched, his arms folding out in front of his chest when Negan stood before him upset.

“Yeah. Because unlike you, I don’t have favorites. Both of my children know that they are loved because I’m there for them. No matter how much they upset me. No matter how many mistakes they make. My children go to bed at night knowing that I love them,” Negan claimed with a firm nod of his head, his chest aching the further he spoke. Right now Negan just wanted to explode on Hershel. Too many times since being here Hershel had pissed him off and he bit his tongue for way too long. “My son and my daughter both know that the way you treat Y/N is wrong. And you know you’re wrong too, but you keep doing it. Why?”

“My life…it’s none of your business,” Hershel declared with a scoff, stepping in closer to Negan to close the distance. Both of them were getting loud at this point and neither seemed to care. “What I do and do not do with my children has nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a good job Hershel,” Negan snarled, the lines in his forehead growing. “Telling your daughters what they can and cannot do is really something else. You’re teaching them that they have to obey to a man. Do everything a man tells them to or else they are wrong. That’s not something I want my daughter to learn. In this world you need to teach your daughters to stand up for themselves. To know they are equals when it comes to men.”

“I don’t need you lecturing me,” Hershel replied back, moving forward to shove into Negan who found amusement in it. “My daughter doesn’t belong with a man like you. Maggie deserves better.”

“It’s kind of funny to hear you say something like that,” Negan tipped his head from side to side. “I actually agree with you. I do think Maggie belongs with someone else, but then again, that’s not really your business. See, your daughter, she can be with whoever she wants. She can have sex with whoever she wants. Just like you Hersh. So why don’t you stop acting like Maggie is twelve years old and realize that she is a grown woman that is capable of making her own decisions. Maybe put some of that effort into Y/N and make up for the years of abuse you put her through.”

“I did not abuse my daughter. I never laid a hand on her,” Hershel was seething with the things that Negan was saying. “How dare you accuse me of that.”

“Mental abuse is just as bad Hersh,” Negan chastised Hershel with a tip of his head, clicking his tongue at the top of his mouth. “You have done nothing but treat her bad her whole life. You made her hate herself. You made her miserable. And yet here you stand still thinking you are a good father. That beautiful woman with a huge heart believes that she is the problem. That she is some kind of mistake because you got your rocks off with a woman that wasn’t married to you. Maybe to Maggie you’re a good father. Hell, maybe even Beth too. But with Y/N? You dropped the ball and you’re a terrible father. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I don’t want you here,” Hershel yelled at Negan who simply smiled and let out a tense breath. “You need to get out of my home.”

“Hersh, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of your home with your ass backward point of views,” Negan pointed his finger at Hershel, his whole body tensing up when they were both screaming at each other. “Because you know what? I love your daughter. With everything that I am. And when I leave this place, I’m going to make sure that she never fucking questions it. I’m going to provide for her everything that she has ever needed or wanted. She’ll never question if she is loved because I’m going to let her know every fucking day that she is loved. That she belongs. That she is perfect just the way she fucking is. And if she wants to do something? She’ll be allowed to because I’m fucking lucky that she is in my life.”

Hershel’s breathing got heavier the more that Negan rambled off, “Because the day that I realized I loved your daughter, everything fucking made sense again. She’s beautiful. She’s smart and she makes me happy. And I will never let her feel the way that you make her feel.”

“Hey,” Annette’s voice was heard when they both turned their heads to see that Annette was standing at the bottom of the stairs with Beau and Y/N who had obviously heard them fighting. “I think it’s time the two of you separate. Now.”

“This is my home and I’m not going anywhere,” Hershel asserted himself only for Annette to start making her way up the stairs.

“Well this is my home too Hershel and you are going to listen to me right now,” Annette demanded of her husband, reaching out to grab a hold of his jawline. “I say that Negan goes to bed and so do you. We will talk in the morning about things, but right now that man’s daughter is sleeping. And his son just witnessed the two of you butting heads. So you are going to get your ass downstairs or I swear Hershel you will see a wrath in me you’ve never seen before.”

The expression over Hershel’s face was shocked when he turned his attention from Negan to Annette. With a nod, Hershel’s body loosened up and he nodded his head, “Yes dear.”

“Thank you,” Annette pointed toward the stairs where Hershel slowly made his way down. Once he reached the bottom both Y/N and Beau stepped aside to let him through. When he left, they both made their way upstairs with Annette standing before Negan. Annette made sure that they were alone before turning to Negan. “I liked everything I just heard from your mouth. You’re doing exactly as I would expect someone who loves my daughter to respond to things. As far as I’m concerned, you have my permission to be with Y/N. You’re exactly the kind of man that she needs in this world. Never change that. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan nodded his head realizing that they must have heard his rant that he went off on in front of Hershel. “Thank you.”

“Now get some sleep,” Annette stressed, giving Beau’s shoulder a squeeze before pressing a kiss against Y/N’s temple. “We all need it.”

��Wow,” Beau muttered once Annette left and closed the door at the bottom of the stairs behind her. “That was amazing dad. I can’t believe you stood up to him like that.”

Setting the things down that Beau had given her on the chair, Y/N moved across the room to wrap her arms around Negan’s shoulders. Pulling him down, her lips collided with his and Negan picked her up, pulling her in closer to his chest. In that kiss he felt everything he needed to know that he was head over heels in love with Y/N. The passion in the kiss alone let him know that they belonged together. After hearing what Negan said to her father, he could tell that she was filled with so much emotion and he clung tightly to her.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips pressing her forehead to his when Negan finally let her down to her feet. “So much.”

“I love you too,” Negan slurred hearing Beau clear his throat to remind them that he was there. “I’m sorry son.”

“No, I like seeing this,” Beau explained waving his hand about in the air. “After the night I think we’ve all had, it’s good to see the love that is shared between the two of you,” Beau took a minute to think about things before stepping forward to place his hands over both Negan and Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m going to head to bed. Are the two of you okay?”

“I’m good,” Negan confirmed, but Beau looked to Y/N specifically.

“I’ll be fine,” she promised Beau who stepped forward to give both of them a big hug. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight, buddy,” Negan pressed a kiss against Beau’s temple watching his son make his way down the stairs. Once he was gone, Negan turned his attention to Y/N who looked sad. “Hey, I’m sorry if you heard that I just…”

“What I heard from you was one of the better parts of my night,” Y/N assured him, placing her finger over his lips to silence him. Pressing a kiss against her finger, Negan sighed and pulled her in close to him so that he could cuddle into her. “You are the best thing to happen to me. You know that?”

“I feel the same way about you,” Negan slurred, squeezing her tightly like he would never let go. When Y/N pulled back, she grabbed a hold of his hand and led him toward the bed. Laying down with her, Negan allowed her to crawl in over him and rest her head against the center of his chest. Stroking his fingers over her shoulders, he could sense that something was seriously wrong. “What’s going on?”

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” she begged of him and Negan immediately nodded feeling an ache at the center of his chest. “How did you and my father start fighting anyways?”

“It’s complicated,” Negan was honest, clearing his throat when he cuddled his chin in over the top of her head. “Maggie was in here talking to me and then things got heated between me and your father. Which reminds me…”

“Yeah?” she lifted her head to stare into his hazel eyes. It made Negan feel guilty when he thought about what Maggie had started to do when she came up here.

“Your sister came up here and when she did…” Negan began, noticing the way that her eyes looked miserable. Suddenly he felt like everything that just happened no longer mattered compared to whatever was going on with Y/N right now. “What happened Y/N? I can tell that you aren’t okay. Talk to me.”

“Are you sure you are capable of me talking to you after all the stress you’ve put up with?” she made sure that he was okay and he gave her a small nod, a smirk tugging at his lips when he led her to kiss him.

“I want to be here for you no matter what Y/N. Through everything. You need to know that,” Negan whispered, stroking his fingers over the side of her face. “I don’t care how much stress I’ve gone through in a day. I don’t care how tired I am. I love you and I’m always going to be here for you to talk to. To help you through whatever you are upset about.”

“Your son found something earlier,” she pressed up and away from Negan, pulling herself into a seated position on the bed. Lifting up, Negan moved in beside her and cuddled in closer, wrapping his arm around her while she spoke. “Growing up, my father always made me believe I was a mistake. That my mother was someone that he slept with once. It was a poor judgement call on his end and he never heard anything from her again. That I just showed up on his doorstep after my mother died during childbirth. And that’s why I thought he always hated me. I was the baby he had that he never wanted.”

“Okay?” Negan’s brow arched in curiosity, sliding to the edge of the bed when she went for the book that she had sat down at the other side of the room that Beau had found. Holding it out to Negan, he gave her a strange look and then accepted it. “What is this?”

“It’s something your son found up here hidden in the floorboards,” she explained to Negan pointing toward the area that Beau said he had found it. “Apparently there is money in there too, but he left it.”

“Should have taken the money,” Negan teased her with a wink, but when she didn’t laugh, he realized that this was serious. Running his fingers over the binding of the booklet that she gave him, Negan frowned and lifted it closer to observe it. Reaching for his glasses, he put them on and let out a long sigh. “It looks like someone tried to burn this.”

“I’m guessing it was my father,” she informed Negan, sitting down beside him on the bed when he slowly opened the front cover. “I think he wanted to burn every memory of her, but he couldn’t.”

“What does that…?” Negan’s words came to a halt when he flipped through the pages. Further and further in she noticed the more confused he seemed to get seeing the photos. Lifting his head, Negan looked over her features and then back at her mothers. “I don’t get it.”

“He lied to me,” she pointed toward the photo that Negan stopped on where it was the photo of her mother holding her while Hershel and Maggie were in the photo. “Why would he lie to me about all of that Negan?”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Negan’s nose wrinkled, flipping through the pages again. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. If my dad was genuinely happy when my mother was pregnant with me,” she stopped Negan on the page where Hershel had his hand over her mother’s pregnant belly where he genuinely looked happy. “Why all the lies? Why the abuse? If you look toward the end of the booklet, she was wearing an engagement ring. They were engaged. So why did he treat me like the biggest mistake he ever made if he loved my mother? Why lie to me and create some kind of story to make me feel like he hated me for the one mistake that he made. My mother was still alive Negan. Until I was a toddler. She didn’t die in childbirth. I don’t understand.”

“You need to talk to him,” Negan closed up the booklet and set it on the nightstand that was beside the bed. “Go talk to him now.”

“And say what Negan? Beau found this hidden in your hideaway spot? Why the hell did you treat me the way you did all these years?” she threw her hands up in the air with Negan debating that question.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what you say,” Negan extended his hand out to hers, hooking their fingers together. “You’ve had to put up with this your whole life. I know you’re scared of him, but you shouldn’t have to be. And he should have never treated you the way he did. It was wrong. No parent should ever have the kind of control that man has over all of you. The way he treats you is terrible and it’s time he got called out on his bullshit.”

“I don’t think I have the power to do it tonight,” she confessed with a broken sound. There was pain in her eyes and he hated that. Lifting his hand, he swept his thumb in over her jawline before leaning in to give her a faint kiss. “This is a lot on me Negan. This is the first time I’ve ever seen her photo. I guess it makes sense why he hates me since I look just like her Negan.”

“But he looked happy in those photos,” Negan implied taking a quick glance back at the booklet she had shared with him. “If that was the case and he hated her, those photos wouldn’t exist. The story your father tells is obviously a fucking lie.”

“I don’t understand why someone would do what he has done,” she reached up to wipe at her face when she started crying. It was an uncontrollable thing. Something that she hated and wished wasn’t happening, but it was. “I have felt unloved my whole life. That I was something that was never supposed to happen. An error that the world made. Something that didn’t belong or fit in. And those photos…that shows something different Negan. My father was horrible my whole life. He made me feel terrible about myself. He made me hate who I was. He treated me like I was a mistake, some kind of monster that never belonged in this family. How that man made me feel had me contemplating killing myself when I was younger because I hated myself that much. He separated me from my siblings. Taught them that I was wrong, that there was something wrong with me. And he confirmed his feelings the other night Negan. If I had a family, I would never do that to my children. I would let them know they were loved. I would give them everything. I always thought I was too broken to have children, so I stayed away from it. But I’m not broken. I’m full of love and I know what’s wrong. I would know what I would do with my children because it would be the complete opposite of my father. Beau has showed me through you and everything that he says about his mother what real love is supposed to be like.”

“What are you saying?” Negan breathed out, his fingers curling around the back of her neck frowning to see that she was crying like she was. “I agree with you, your father made the mistake. Not you. You were perfect. You always were.”

“I’m saying that…I think I want a baby. I want a family,” she declared, her eyes gazing over at him when his eyebrows bounced up. Considering the conversation he just had with Maggie, this was something that surprised Negan. “I was scared of a family this whole time, but it’s something that I want. I want to have that family I always dreamt of, but I’m never going to find it here. The only way I will is if I make a family on my own. Where I can be everything with my children that my father never was with me.”

“You want a baby?” Negan thought about her comment and he shrugged his shoulders. In the eyes of some people, he may be an asshole for saying this, but it really hit him deep the further he thought about things. With Maggie, Negan didn’t want that family. But the idea of a family with Y/N? Well that struck something different inside of him. “Then let’s make a baby. You and I.”

“Negan, I just meant in general,” she responded with a sigh, stroking her thumb over the back of Negan’s hand. “You have Beau and Erin. The last thing you need right now is another baby on the way.”

“Why is that the last thing that I need? I love being a dad,” Negan explained, using his free hand to place it in over the center of his chest. “There is nothing more that I love than being a father. You see that I love my children. Nothing is more important to me. So if you want a baby, I’m the best guy to have a baby with. Stop taking your birth control and let’s make a baby.”

“We aren’t even officially together Negan,” she pointed out turning toward Negan when he lifted his hands to cup her face tenderly in them. “I’m still engaged to Glenn.”

“And you’re engaged to me. We are officially together, we just haven’t told everyone else yet. It doesn’t have to be known by others for it to be official,” Negan asserted, tipping his head forward to nuzzle his nose in against hers. “When we get home, I’ll get you a ring, we’ll get married on New Years and we’ll be happy. Our little family. Together. My kids love you. I love you. And I think it’s exactly what you need in your life.”

“Don’t you think it’s us rushing into things if we do that?” she wondered and Negan laughed, shrugging his shoulders when he thought about it. “You’re really okay with having a baby with me?”

“Why not? I know I’m in love with you. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So why not?” Negan pushed, stroking his thumb down over the side of her face before curling his fingers around her neck. “I love you. I love being a father. So let’s just do it.”

“What if I’m being emotional and this isn’t what I really want?” she breathed out noticing the way that his thick eyebrows bounced up. “Now I’m just talking myself in circles. I know what it is that I want.”

“Then do what you want,” Negan suggested, his hazel eyes watching her closely when she stood up. His lips parted when he saw her reaching for the bottom of her shirt. A long exhale fell from his parted lips when she dropped the material on the ground. Clearing his throat, Negan watched as she unhooked the material of her bra and dropped it next to her shirt. Stepping forward, she reached for Negan’s shirt and tugged it up his long torso. Lifting his arms up for her, he let her pull his shirt from his body and drop it with hers. With heavy eyelids, he watched her closely when she pushed into the material of her pants and got them down her body along with her panties. “You are sure this is what you want?”

“It is,” she stroked her fingers through his thick hair having his dimples become more prominent when he tipped his head back to stare up at her. Pushing at his pajama pants, Negan managed to lift his hips and get the material down his body before kicking out of them while he sat at the edge of the bed. Carefully moving in over him, she adjusted his glasses over his face and hovered her lips in over his. “Are you sure this is what you want though? You did want to come down my throat earlier…”

“But why waste perfectly good baby making sperm?” Negan snorted nuzzling his nose in against hers, his fingers digging into her hips while she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Faintly, her nails bit at his flesh while he stared up at her with all the desire and want in the world. “We want a baby growing inside of your belly, not my sperm just floating around in there.”

“It sounds so bad when you say it like that,” she laughed, burying her head against the side of his neck feeling his palm finding its way between her thighs to caress over her sensitive flesh to get her ready for everything. “Are you sure Beau and Erin would be okay with something like a baby?”

“Beau and Erin just want me happy,” Negan whispered, his lips hovering in over hers when she carefully reached between the two of them to caress her palm in over the warmth of his flesh. Once he was ready, she balanced her hips in over him and took her time bringing them together. Tipping his head back, Negan kept his stare locked with hers when she took her time moving her hips over him. Each movement was slow, dragging things out while he dragged his hands up the length of her back to keep her comfortable. “Being with you and them is what makes me the happiest.”

“I love you,” she whispered, stroking her fingers through the curls of his dark hair at the bottom of his neck and he gave her a big smile.

“And I love you,” he dragged out his words, bringing their lips together in a tender sweep of a kiss. While she took her time rolling her hips over his, it gave him time to touch her. Comfort her. Have them connect in all the right ways while she was over him. “I just want you happy Y/N. I want to bring all the happiness in the world to you that I can.”

“You do,” she promised him, her words vibrating against his lips when her movements grew stronger over him. Bringing his hands to her hips, Negan did his best to help aid in her movements over him burying his nose against the side of her neck while she hooked her arms around his shoulders. “Negan.”

“It kills me that you’ve gone so long without knowing how amazing you really are,” Negan tipped his head back, staring up at her with awe and adoration in his eyes. Their breathing grew labored, his soft moans falling from his parted lips. “You’re better than he will ever be Y/N. You don’t need to prove that to anyone. It’s there in everything you do. I love you. And I will always protect you and be here for you from here on out. Do you understand?”

“I do,” she tugged at his hair, drawing his head to tip back when she started moving harder over him, drawing him deeper and deeper within her with every movement she made. Negan’s face twisted with pleasure, his jaw lowering when he looked down to watch her taking his body repeatedly in fluid movements. “Look at me.”

“Fuck,” Negan hissed out, his body tensing up while she caressed over the planes of his back. “You feel so good.”

Pressing her forehead to his, she added more strength to her downward thrusts and heard his moans filling the air, “You’re not being quiet.”

“I don’t care,” he slurred, his lips finding hers having her purring out against his flesh with the way he was kissing her. Over and over again, she rode him enjoying the way it felt with him inside of her. There was something in the way that Negan looked at her that drove her crazy with desire. “I don’t want to hide us anymore. We shouldn’t have to hide that we love one another. Not from anyone. I love you. And I want the whole world to know it.”

“I want that too,” she whispered, nibbling at his bottom lip when his arm curled around her waist working to move her a certain way over him that had them both breathless. Tossing his head back, Negan bit back on a moan, but it escaped anyways when he felt her nipping at the side of his neck. “Negan.”

“Are you serious about the baby thing?” Negan confirmed with her feeling her fingers dragging across his bottom lip. Taking her finger into his mouth, he sucked faintly at it before pulling his head back. “Is it something you really want?”

“I do,” she admitted, swallowing down hard when Negan pulled her in closer to him drawing himself further into her. It had her back arching, her fingers digging into his skin when he reached back to grab one of his pillows. Setting it at the middle of the bed, Negan stood, lowering her down over the center of the bed. Adjusting her body, he laid her so her hips were laying right over the pillow. Getting comfortable over her, Negan laid his body in over hers. “What is this?”

“You don’t want to hear the science of it while we’re doing this, so just lay back and enjoy,” Negan snickered feeling her arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Entering her again, Negan rolled his hips, allowing his groin to rub up against her clitoris with every move he made. It had her lifting her head up to meet his lips in attempts to silence her cries. The friction was incredible and he knew that it would be a good position for her while he made love to her. It felt good for both of them. The motions of his hips were slow and rhythmic, taking his time to have things build up for them. There was a constant pressure on her clitoris from the base of his cock rubbing up against it and it had her clinging tightly to him. “Look at me.”

“Negan,” she tried so hard to stay quiet while Negan kept up with his steady movements. It was crazy how sexy she found him still wearing his glasses throughout this whole thing. “You have no idea how much the glasses fucking work for me.”

“I’m glad you like them because I use them all the time, I can’t fucking see,” Negan snickered, lowering down to bring their lips together again in a drawn out, passionate kiss that had both of them panting when they pulled away. The way her body was clinging to his, Negan knew that she was close to an orgasm and he moaned out himself. “Fuck.”

It was easy to embrace the closeness of the position because it kept them connected. They were eager to be with one another and share this personal moment to make it special. The intimacy was something they both lacked in their other relationships so making love like this made them both feel more alive than they had in a very long time.

“Negan,” she brought him to her, hooking her fingers into his hair while he continued with his steady thrusts that had her whimpering into his mouth. Clinging tightly to Negan, she felt a rush flooding into her head and it ached, but in the best of ways. With her warmth contracting and relaxing around him, she could feel his body start to shake over hers. Clinging tightly to him, she heard his moans faint in her ear and they turned somewhat louder when she felt his length throbbing inside of her.

Her name fell from his lips when she felt the warmth of his release filling her. Instead of stopping, he kept up with the movements making sure to continue through his orgasm. It had her clinging to him when he finally laid in over her with both of them tremoring from the moment they just shared together.

“I love you so fucking much,” Negan slurred, pressing a kiss against her jawline while he laid comfortably over her. Adjusting ever so slightly, Negan made sure that he could lay over her without hurting her while he stroked his fingers over the side of her face. “I can’t wait until we leave here and we can be together. We’ll make the family that you always wanted. And you will be loved. So fucking loved.”

“You make me believe that’s all possible,” she whispered stealing a kiss from his perfect lips before getting comfortable beneath him, stroking her fingers at his scalp. “I could say I love you a thousand times and I don’t think it would ever be enough to let you know how much I love you.”

“I love you more,” Negan snickered, rubbing his nose in against hers and it had her laughing.

“I love that you can make me smile even in my worst moments,” she declared, stroking her fingers across his bottom lip. Kissing at the pads of her fingers Negan hummed and nodded his head. She had said this to him earlier, but she really meant it. “That’s one of the best things about you. No matter how bad I feel, you can always make me smile.”

“Good,” he whispered with a weak smile, his tired eyes gazing upon hers. “I hope I can always do that for you because I want to be that light in your life. Forever.”

“You’re serious about getting married on New Years?” she confirmed with him and it made him smile. With a confident nod, he sighed and felt her lifting up to kiss him again. “Really?”

“Really, really,” Negan snickered, peppering loving kisses over her lips. “I know I want to start in the new year with you. So why not do it the way we should and get married? We’ll just do it with us, the kids and someone that we both know. Maybe Simon?”

“Simon?” she repeated with a tip of her head. “He hates me.”

“He won’t when he knows that you’re my wife,” he snorted, nuzzling his nose in against hers again. “Because I’ll knock him on his ass if he gives you shit. Just like I’ve wanted to do since I’ve gotten here with your father.”

“It was really hot seeing you lay into him,” she informed him with a tiny laugh, stroking her fingers down the lengths of his back. “It’s not often that I see people put him in his place.”

“Well, people should be doing it more often,” Negan stated with a half-smile, capturing her lips in another kiss. Moving his hips every so lightly had her whimpering out and she lifted her head.

“We should have sex like that more often. It was really nice. It felt good,” she conceded, her fingers sliding down low enough to squeeze over his small bottom.

“It did,” he agreed with her, nibbling at her bottom lip and giving a sheepish smile. “Plus, this position is better with keeping the sperm inside of you instead of wasting all of it with you on top. You orgasming couldn’t hurt either helping it get to where it needs to go. We keep this up and by next year, we’ll be married and have a baby on the way.”

“It’s scary sounding, yet actually sounds nice,” she suggested palming down in over the side of his face staring upon him with all the love that she could. “With you it feels like I’ve found my perfect storybook ending.”

“You have,” Negan promised, giving her a weak and tired smile. “Come the day after Christmas, I’ll make sure that all your dreams come true. And we will live happily ever after.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan #Negan fanfiction #negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Negan x you #Negan Smut #Negan Smith

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isabella-kr · 1 year

Note

Just read your reassurance fic and fuckin loved it. Absolutely feral for price rn. Not sure if you're still open for requests, but i am a strong believer that price gives the best hugs, holds you to his chest for comfort, problemsolving kinda hugs, but maybe something happened and now its oc/reader's time to return the favour.

This is the first time I've ever made a request so hope I did it right lol. basically I'm starving for fluff. maybe a bit of hurt/comfort.

Thank you so much for requesting!! I'm so glad you liked it!! I agree, he definitely gives incredible hugs and I would kill to experience them at least once. I hope you don't mind, but I made this an F!reader because you didn't specify and it's what I find easiest; however, if you'd like me to change this to gender neutral, let me know and I will edit this :))

Out of Your Control

Do not repost

Synopsis: After a mission gone awry, Price can't help but blame himself for everything that had gone wrong. Hugs won't solve the problem, but they will definitely help ease his nerves.

Pairing: John Price x Female!Reader (Hints of an established relationship)

Genre: Angst & Fluff / Hurt & Comfort

Warnings: Swearing, self-blame, Price cries, reader cries, use of ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’

Word Count: 2k

General Masterlist COD:MWII Masterlist

GIF not mine

The mission was a disaster.

Everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. It was as though the enemy was expecting them, and decided to make his defence ten times stronger, quicker, and more ruthless. It was clear that the mission was doomed for failure from the start, but they prevailed nonetheless; eager to complete their task.

The place was swarming with soldiers who were armed with weapons from head to toe. So were they, but no matter how armed their Squad seemed to be, the enemy soldiers had twice as many guns, and twice as many blades. They were like flies on a hot summer’s day, doubling at speeds that didn’t seem humanly possible, and before long, they were surrounded from every corner.

Their hushed voices rang out through the comms as they considered their next course of action. Yet as Price was about to tell them to retreat - to evacuate because there was no way they would come out if this mission alive – it was already too late. Loud sirens rang out in their ears, and the rapid sounds of stomping boots made the hairs at the back of all their necks stand up. It went south too quickly for them to even attempt to deescalate the situation.

Bullets rained down like hail, and it didn’t take a genius to know they would not be getting out of this scot-free, and none of them did. Some of their injuries were worse than others, but they all looked equally beat up, as though they were on the brink of death.

It was barely an hour later that they were sat in the medical bay, with nurses and doctors running around them like headless chickens. Their frantic movements and hushed whispers made her head feel like a balloon ready to be popped, and she could only assume the others felt the same from the way their faces scrunched up with discomfort.

Price was nowhere to be seen, having ran out the moment the nurses told him he was free to go. The Captain’s injuries weren’t as severe as the others, and that only seemed to worsen the guilt he was already feeling.

It was Soap who looked the worst out of all of them, like Death himself was about to knock on his door and take him away. Yet somehow, with half of his face turned purple, and his left eye swollen shut, he still managed to send her a sweet smile the moment their eyes locked together.

She sent him a sympathetic glance in return, hissing and flinching when a bullet was suddenly extracted from the flesh of her thigh. She almost glared at the doctor who pulled the metal out of her, but stopped herself when an anti-septic was wiped over the open wound, and another wave of pain made an anguished groan leave her throat. She could only sigh and wait for this to be over; to finally leave and get some time for herself.

“Take this,” a nurse spoke with a sweet smile, giving her three small pills and a cup of water. Once she downed the medicine and emptied the small, plastic cup, the nurse nodded, “Good. Now, you get some rest, alright? You need it.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, plopping down from her bed to leave the stuffy room. She winced with every limped step she took, but decided she would rather suffer than spend the night in the medical room because of a non-fatal injury.

She wasted no time before making her way over to her room, welcoming the familiar smell with a smile on her face. The material that was soaked with her sweat and blood was pulled off her tired body, and soon replaced with something more comfortable. The new clothes were soft to the touch and didn’t stick to her bruised skin, making her sigh out in relief. She decided to wear something that would cover her up entirely, not out of modesty, but to hide the injuries from the captain’s guilt-filled eyes.

After leaving her room and making another stop to brew two cups of tea, she began making her way down a long corridor. It didn’t take her too long to arrive at Price’s office, though the wound in her thigh definitely slowed her down somewhat. His door seemed to be locked shut, for when she pressed her elbow against the handle, it didn’t budge.

With a small sigh, she knocked on the door with the rip of her boot, and waited for the door to be opened. Yet no sound came from inside the room; no gruff voice telling her to piss off; no sound of papers rustling, and no heavy footsteps making their way across the room.

She exhaled sharply, eyes closing as she kicked the door harder than before. Some of the tea trickled down from the mugs, the steaming hot liquid burning the skin of her finger. She ignored the burning sensation, instead focusing on the man who she knew was on the opposite side of the door.

“Sir, I need to speak with you,” she spoke out loud, hoping the sound of urgency in her voice would get him to open up. But alas, the silence continued. “Captain-” she looked around her, making sure there was no-one there to hear her next words, “John… please let me in.”

That seemed to get him moving, as only a few seconds passed before the door was pulled open. She walked in without waiting for permission, and placed the two hot mugs on his desk. Her eyes were quick to notice the scattered papers on his desk, his handwriting turning frantic on some of them.

Her eyes soon settled on the bearded man who walked around the desk and sat down in his chair. He had a blank look in his eyes, and she slowly sat down on the chair on the other side of the desk. She moved one of the mugs closer towards him, but he made no attempt to reach for it. His eyes didn’t even glance down to look at it.

“John,” she spoke slowly. Softly.

He didn’t look at her, and she swore his eyes were avoiding eye contact at all costs. There was a dark bruise forming on the apple of his left cheek, the skin turning a dark purple, mixed with a sickly yellow. A deep gash also decorated his clavicle, the skin red a raw, yet the wound was not deep enough to require stitches.

She could feel her heart break into a million pieces at the sight of his hopeless state. “John,” she whispered once again, “…sweetheart.”

This time, his eyes moved to look into hers. They were glazed over, and she could tell he was close to cracking, the guilt eating him up alive.

“This wasn’t your fault, John,” she told him with a shake of her head.

He let out a humourless laugh. The type of laugh that told her just how deep in despair he was. “Yeah, it was. I should’ve known better.”

“John, no.” She disagreed, “You couldn’t have predicted this.”

“No, but I should’ve been ready for it,” he argued, “I should’ve been prepared for things to go wrong.”

“And you were,” she spoke softly, “But we were all taken by surprise. None of us could have known this was going to happen. No matter how prepared we could have been. No matter what you think you could’ve done, we were simply too outnumbered.”

With a tilt of his head, he exhaled sharply, “This was supposed to be an easy mission. In and out.”

She nodded in understanding, “And it would’ve been if the information you were given was correct,” she pointed out. “This one was out of your hands, John.”

He shook his head in disagreement, hie eyes trained on the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. With a small wince, she pushed herself off the chair and walked over towards him. Her fingers curled around his jaw and she moved him so that his eyes were locked with hers.

“John, what matters is that we’re all alive.” She told him, “You’re fine. The boys are fine. I’m fine. We’re all okay.”

With a blank stare, his hand moved to her thigh and applied some pressure in the exact spot where the bullet had penetrated her skin. He didn’t do it hard, in fact, he barely touched the area. Yet despite all that, she felt like a thousand needles were stabbed into her sore skin at once.

She choked at the pain that travelled through her body, and her hand instinctively pulled his away. He stared at her with a look that told her he did not believe a word she just told him. How could he when the soft, and otherwise welcome gesture caused her so much pain.

“You don’t sound fine to me, love.”

“John.” She scolded, “This isn’t something that’s never happened to me before. I’ve lost count of how many times I got shot, and I’m sure you have too.”

He didn’t respond to the accusation, his eyes only closing in shame. With a small, yet deep sigh, she managed to pull him towards her. The non-bruised side of his face was pressed against her chest, and her arms wrapped securely around him. The palm of her left hand cradled the back of his head, whilst the other moved to rub comforting circles on his shoulders.

“I know you won’t believe me,” she whispered, “But none of us blame you. Not Ghost, not Soap, not Gaz, and most definitely not me”

Upon hearing her words, he wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her even closer to him than she was before. A small whimper left his lips, and he moved his face so that his nose was pressing against her. She moved down, carefully not to startle him, and kissed the crown of his head. She kept her face there, only tightening her hold around him when his body began to shake; the dam which he had built breaking into pieces as he allowed his emotions to flow freely.

His tears soaked through her shirt, and the situation made her own eyes well with tears. She didn’t care when they began to roll down her cheeks, or when his fingers clenched around the material of her shirt and pulled on it. She only cared that he finally let himself feel, without shoving his emotions away until they became unbearable.

“We would never blame you for this. Sometimes things are out of our control, okay?” She hummed against him, “There’s no point in beating ourselves up over it. It’s in the past. We can’t change it, so let it go. Please, just let it go.”

A sob wrecked through his body, and his fingers let go of her shirt to dig into her skin. He managed to nod against her, and she felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She knew the guilt had not fully left him, and that they still had a long way to go, but this was progress. She was just glad he was willing to try and move past it, and no matter how long it would take him, she would remain by his side the entire time.

She would wrap her arms around him and hold him close as he let the tears flow freely, just as he had done for her so many times before. She would hold him for as long as he needed her to, even if her arms began to ache, she would keep her arms wrapped securely around him.

“Just please…” she sniffled, “Don’t beat yourself up over this. We’re all going to be fine. Nothing a little rest and some medicine can’t fix.”

“And some stitches.”

“Yeah,” she let out a small laugh as her lips pressed against his hair once more, “And some stitches.”

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resowrites · 11 months

Text

Rogue’s Company - oneshot.

Summary: Henry and his wife become parents…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, mention/some detail of birth (I’ve tried to write as sensitively as possible but please avoid if you’re unsure), banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2095

A/N: This was supposed to go up next week but I’ve just got too much on. There are a few more pieces that I can post asap but I’m also happy to leave the story here - let me know if you want more.

Please note: as I've tried to write this story as both standalone oneshots and an ongoing series, I now have to use more imagery to flesh out this arc and I'm aware this may disappoint some of you. But I want you all to know, whether you're a regular reader of mine or not, I will always adore and support you no matter who you are or what you look like. Please also note: this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. Love you guys ~ R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Rogue's Company.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the soft but unnatural light. At first, she didn't recognise the off-white walls, punctuated at intervals by bland pictures. After a while, she could hear a strange muffled sound. She realised someone was speaking. "Ollie? Are you awake?" It was Henry.

"W-where… am I?"

"The hospital, darling. You've been asleep the last six hours." Then it dawned on her. She'd given birth that morning.

"Where… where is he?" He smiled softly.

"He's fast asleep, as you should be. Come on, close your eyes." Henry smoothed her hair and hushed her softly, but a burning desire stopped her from slipping back into the depths of sleep. She had to see him.

"Where is he?" His brow furrowed slightly.

"He's just over there, darling. Don't you remember? He guzzled a whole bottle of milk and fell right to sleep…”

"Need to see him--" she tried to sit up slightly but pain shot through her stomach. Her grimace made Henry hold her down by the shoulders.

"Oh no you don't. You've got to try and relax for me darling, or you'll hurt worse." He eyed the buzzer above the bed, wondering if he should call the nurse. That morning suddenly flooded back to her. She remembered the high blue screen, the nauseating sensation as her stomach was pulled apart until… cries. Soft at first and then harder, stronger. They'd had a son. Her need to see him grew desperate.

"Darling, please. I must see him." Henry bit his lip but decided the only thing to do was to wheel the trolley over to her side. He did so painfully slowly, eager not to wake the little bundle wrapped within it. When Henry finally came to a stop, a smile spread across his face. Her eyes were glued to him immediately. Swathed in a white blanket and fitted with a tiny knitted hat, their baby boy was divine. His small fists were bundled up by his cheeks but his bottom lip stuck out, making his expression carefree.

"He's so lovely, isn't he?" He whispered though she could hardly find the words. Instead, tears filled her exhausted, heavy eyes. Henry gently wiped her face as her eyes screwed shut. "Oh darling, you're in pain aren't you?" When she didn't respond, he pressed the red button to the top left of her hospital bed. Moments later, an older woman in bright blue scrubs breezed into the room.

"Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Cavill! I was just about to check on you both. How are you dear? Is your stomach giving you grief?" But Ollie couldn't tear her eyes away from the small bundle to her left.

"Sorry, she's a bit preoccupied…" Henry nodded toward their son.

"Ah, well that's alright. I just need to do a couple of checks and then I can bring you both up some dinner if you’d like?" He tried repeating the offer to his wife but her attention was still fixed solely on their little boy. The nurse went about checking her as quickly and carefully as she could. She also gave her some stronger pain relief. But instead of feeling sleepy, Ollie rallied and became fully aware that she was now a mother. Her sobs came hard and fast.

"Darling, what is it?" The nurse patted Henry gently on the arm.

"It's alright, it's just overwhelming isn't it?" Ollie nodded, somewhat embarrassed that she was feeling so overcome. "I just need to take him for a few minutes so I can see how he's doing as well?" She felt reluctant for anyone to go anywhere near him, but she was hardly in a position to resist. He stroked her hand and reassured her when she could hear their little boy stir the minute he was placed on a table at the other end of the room.

"Is he alright?! You're not hurting him?!" Henry and the nurse chuckled.

"He's fine darling! And I'm sure once the nurse is done she'll let you hold him?" He looked over at her for confirmation.

"Yes, of course! But you'll have to support his bottom, she won't be strong enough just yet to hold him by herself. Let me see now, he's still six pounds, three ounces, and eighteen inches long…" Ollie craned her neck to try and get a better view.

"Has he still got two balls?" She swatted Henry with her hand but immediately regretted it when the sensation reverberated through her stomach. She gathered her strength to try and sit up properly. He dashed to help her.

"I'm fine love, stop fussing over me… are those measurements okay? It seems pretty small." The nurse smiled softly as she put their son back in his babygrow.

"It's somewhat on the small side but he's all good, you've got a very sweet little boy. Well, I'll leave you three to it. I'll be back with dinner in about half an hour, if you need help using the bathroom just buzz. For now, try and get some rest and when you're ready with a name, just let me know." She then smiled, handed their son over to Henry, and made her way from the room. For a while, he just stood holding him, rocking gently back and forth. His whimpering hadn't quite died down but Ollie couldn’t stand it any longer.

"Henry, I can't see him! Please, put him on my chest--"

"Alright, alright, here he is…" Henry ducked down, careful not to put too much pressure on either her chest or stomach. Immediately she was struck by his eyes - bright blue like his father’s. She felt her lip tremble. He just chuckled softly. "So… what do you think? He woke up an hour after you fell asleep and just gurgled away happily in his cot. He hasn't cried once!" She stared down at his little face and felt a strange sensation spread through her chest. It was pure, unconditional love.

"He's… glorious. Even though he looks just like you!" It was true. From the dark tufts of hair on his head to the strong jaw and double chin, there was no denying who his father was.

"Yeah, but he's got your ears, look," Henry rotated him slightly so she could see the side of his head.

"Well that's a relief…" They both laughed. “Wow. I can't believe we made that…" He laughed again.

"I know, I still can't even believe he's here! It feels like only yesterday you told me you were pregnant…" Henry kissed her cheek for what felt like the hundredth time that day. But her eyes were still glued to their son who was cooing to himself.

"Bloody hell… he's chatty like you as well."

"You should have heard him earlier, he was having a whole conversation with the nurse--" He lifted him up to place him back in the cot.

"No, don't. Don't take him away!"

"But darling my arm's going dead! I'm just putting him back down for a little while so you can rest…"

"Fine, but pull that trolley down a bit so I can still see him…" Henry did as he was told, smiling at her enraptured face.

"So, I take it you're pleased then?"

"Pleased? I'm besotted. I never want him out of my sight again--"

"You know you cried and cried when they had to take him away to clean him up?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Really? I have no memory of that…" A pit opened in his stomach.

"Do you remember him being born?" She tried to think.

"Only in fragments. I remember his cries, and that he was all slippery. Apart from that my head's still foggy." Henry crouched over and stroked her head.

"It'll probably come back to you as you recover. The surgeon also did a great job, the incision wasn't that big as he's only a wee thing--"

"It certainly doesn't feel small…" She winced as her mind fell back to the soreness she could feel at the base of her stomach.

"Well, give the drugs a chance to kick in, and if you don't feel better in a little while I'll call the nurse back. So, do we have a name?" A small smile curled her lips.

"Yep. Hal."

"Hal?"

"Yeah, don't you like it?"

"Of course, but why that name?"

"Don't you know your Shakespeare? It's short for Henry. You know, as in Henry IV? And you call yourself an actor—"

"You… you wanna name our boy after me?"

"Well, technically Henry V…" She smiled mischievously but he was too choked to speak. "What I also like is that it rhymes with Kal." Henry snorted.

"Hmm, are you sure you don't want to wait until the morphine wears off?" She gave him a knowing look. "Fine, Hal it is! But if he's named after me then it's only fair he's named after you as well--"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean his middle name should be Oliver. What do you think?"

"My name isn’t Oliver, you little shit!" She went to thwack Henry only for the pain to pull her back to the bed. He smirked.

"Mmm, it’s gunna be a fun couple of weeks… and technically it is! You were named after Oliver—"

"Yes, yes, alright. Hal Oliver, it is. Poor little sod. Well, in for a penny, in a pound, let's use another of your names—"

"What, you mean Dalgliesh?"

"No, you twat, William." Henry snorted but felt pride swelling in his chest once again.

"Hal Oliver William. You know that spells 'How?' He could go by Howie—"

"Yeah, no." He laughed.

"Well 'Hal's' perfect, just like him. And his Mum." Henry leaned closer to kiss her on the forehead. "Well done, darling. I'm so, so proud of you."

"I'm just grateful he's here and doing okay--"

"Me too. Can you believe we're parents? It feels so weird!"

"It does. But in a way, it also feels like he's always been here, as a part of us… I know that doesn't make sense."

"No, I know what you mean. I just couldn't imagine life without him now. We're a family of five! Oh my God, my mum and dad are going to be so thrilled—"

"Have you told them yet?"

"Yeah, though I haven't sent a picture. I wanted to wait until you were awake. Shall I take one of you holding him? That way we can send it to everyone?" She smiled and nodded. But just as he went to pick up their son, the nurse shuffled back into the room wheeling a tray of fresh sandwiches and a bowl of strawberries. "Oh, great, I'm hungry." Ollie giggled and the nurse smiled in her direction.

"Well, I'm glad to see you looking a bit brighter! Just let me quickly check you over again and then I'll get out of your hair. How are you feeling now?"

"Elated," she sighed.

"He is a gorgeous little thing. The spitting image of his father, right down to the chin!"

"It's alright, I still love him…" Henry and the nurse burst out laughing.

"So, have you settled on a name?" They smiled at each other.

"Yes, our son is called Hal Oliver William," her voice broke.

"What is it, darling?!"

"It's nothing, it's just… that's the first time I've ever called him our son." He brushed the tears from his own cheeks and gave her another kiss.

"Aww, that's wonderful! I'm so thrilled for you both. And it looks like you're recovering well, your blood pressure's good too. When you're feeling a little stronger, you can have a walk around and take a shower. All being well, you can all head home in the next day or so. Well, I'll leave you three in peace. Just buzz if you need anything." In a whirl, she was gone. Henry began breaking the sandwiches into smaller pieces so he could feed Ollie directly. Normally she'd have fed herself but she was grateful for the help as her whole body still ached from the procedure.

"There we are, just try and have a little bit for me." He beamed at her, still feeling shocked and relieved it was all over. Henry knew their lives would never be the same, but already parenthood was proving to be so much better than he'd expected. He felt like the three of them could take on the world. "Well, my darling girl, are you happy?" She swallowed her small mouthful and gazed up at Henry.

"The happiest I've ever been in my whole life."

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @livesinfantasyland @jackjanira

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine

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lemonkeiku · 8 months

Text

LOST

Summary : Ghost was M.I.A and when the team found him after a few weeks, he already changed.

Pairing: Zombie!Ghost x Bambi (OC) (can be platonic, no mention of romance)

Content: zombie!AU, angst, zombie physichal description, crossover with Resident Evil.

Warnings: mention of Resident Evil content, possibly bad English especially the grammar (sorry, English is not my first language) and I haven't written for a long time.

Author's note: I've been committed that in my AU, Call of Duty and Resident Evil was in the same universe. All connected with Bambi (my OC) is the daughter of Chris Redfield HAHAHA

---

It was the worst situation they could have imagine. After years serving for the military, fighting on the battle field, declaring wars against terrorists and experiencing dozen of life threaten mission, none of them required them to point their gun to each other. Or to be precisely, to one of them.

It all started a few weeks ago. There was a terrorist attack involving bio-weapon—a virus that could bring back those who were dead and turned them into bloodthirsty monsters that would attack anyone in front of them. The Task Force 141 was sent to deal with this incident but no one had experience with bio-weapon on this scale. Too many unexpected event and the situation got out of control.

Ghost was declared M.I.A. during this mission.

A few weeks later, they came back along with some backup from agencies experienced in dealing with bio-weapons—the BSAA—to clean what they left behind and hope they could find Ghost.

They found him. In an abandoned building not far from where they last saw him. He still wore the same uniform, most of his gear still attached. Even his helmet. He also still wore his mask but the bottom part was ripe off, showing his rooting flesh and exposed jaw bone.

There was no much left from him.

He stared at his team blankly. His eyes turned all white, couldn’t even recognize his teammates. He didn’t talk. Only an unrecognizable growl was heard. No one was sure if he was trying to say something or not.

Nobody could make a move. All of them was shocked that they didn’t know how to react. They never prepared to see Ghost like this. No one prepared to see Ghost like this. They could imagine to find Ghost’s dead body somewhere, not walking around like this. Even Price couldn’t make any decision when he was told to kill every undead they met.

Gaz really could only stand still. His Captain didn’t move, so he wouldn’t make any move. Soap was calling Ghost’s name a few times, thinking he probably still be there. But when Ghost didn’t even flinch, everybody should know that he was no longer with them.

Bambi’s head was crowded by the thought of Ghost being a zombie. She knew he was gone, maybe since they lost him a few weeks ago. Nothing they could do to reverse it. Her father always told her how horrified to loose someone to bio-terrorism. She was told multiple times the best thing she could do for someone who was infected, especially those who already turned. Her father was a long-run bio-terrorism fighter. He had been fighting in the war against bio-weapon for more than twenty years. There was no reason for her not to believe him. She just never thought she would experience it on first hand.

She kept telling herself that Ghost was already dead. The figure in front of her was just his walking empty corpse without a single soul. Without Ghost’s soul in it. He was already gone. She already lost him. There was no way to bring him back.

She could hear Soap kept asking what should they do and they started arguing soon after. All the voice sounds unclear as she couldn’t understand any words that came from them. The voice in her head felt louder, kept convince her that the man she care so much was already gone. She tried to convince herself that keeping him that way just made his fate worse than death. It wasn’t the right thing to do.

As everybody kept arguing in the background, Bambi raised her rifle and pointed it directly to Ghost’s forehead. No one noticed her movements until the sound of the first shot exploded from the tip of her rifle. The first bullet hit his helmet but the second bullet hit the perfect spot between his eyebrows.

His body fell with a loud thud on the ground and almost echoed as everybody stop making any noise. She could hear Soap screamed, maybe to at her. Price was also heard saying something but Bambi couldn’t process anything. Her mind was too messed up to understand what the others were saying. It felt like her soul also leaving her body.

Ignoring the voice that Soap, Price and Gaz were making, she walked to Ghost’s body. It felt like she was a zombie too, like something moved her. She lost her grip and dropped her rifle along the way. She fell on her knees right in front of Ghost’s dead body. And this time he was really dead. She turned his body around, placed his head on her lap as she sat on the ground.

Then, she burst in tears even though she had been trying so hard to control her emotions all this time. She screamed on top of her lungs that people outside the building could hear her mourn. She just shot someone she cared dearly. Even she knew it was right decision she could take, but it felt like a part of her died too with him.

Everybody went silent and leaving only Bambi's anguished cries echoed through the cold walls of that abandoned building. Nobody could say anything.

Ghost was declared K.I.A that day. It didn’t matter exactly when Ghost died, they already lost him since the day he went missing. The grief they felt was far worse than anyone could imagine. None of them have remained the same since that day.

#call of duty #call of duty original character #cod oc #cod original character #original character #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #zombie!ghost #zombie ghost #athea 'bambi' diggory

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 1 month

Text

15 Lines Tag Game

tagged by: @carlosoliveiraa @clicheantagonist @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman @la-grosse-patate @g0dspeeed @direwombat @aceghosts @sofrosine @nightbloodbix @kyber-infinitygems @corvosattano @voidika @roofgeese @thesingularityseries (thank you all so much!!)

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

(i failed to follow the rules and did 17 each, i'm indecisive)

tagging: @dickytwister @amalkavian @transcaster @shellibisshe @unholymilf @thedeadthree @confidentandgood @strafethesesinners @harmonyowl @florbelles @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @marivenah @finding-comfort-in-rain @strangefable @efingart (no pressure of course, I'm late to this, sorry for any double tags)

“When you've seen the things I've seen, a little pig sticker cutting through a few layers of flesh doesn't mean much.”

“Blood on my hands or not, I don’t need to be saved. Not by you or anyone else.”

“I’ll bite you if you try and feed me.”

"Then let me do what I do best. I don't need the help, all they'll do is slow me down, make me take my eyes off the ball. You gotta let me win this fight the only way I know how."

"I'm not so delicate."

“Because I prefer to look into the eyes of the person I'm meaning to kill. Makes it more personal. I want them to remember the face of the person sending them to their maker.”

“I put my fucking neck out there every day for all of you – I have been from the start. Who else is having these crazy motherfuckers digging around in their head? Do you have Joseph Seed telling you you’re some fucking sign of the Apocalypse? No.”

"If I don't keep my promise it will be just another regret in a long line of them. My life started with regret – should've been a boy, never should've been born at all – my life will likely end with regrets too."

“Just a weapon. A square peg jammed into a round hole for so many years that my edges finally ground down, and now I fit only one thing."

"I might not have the scars on the outside of what my father did to me, but I think the ones I do have are the big scarlet letter about the kind of monster he turned me into."

“It’s a sad state of affairs when I'm someone people are happy to see after any absence.”

“Well shit, if you’re damaged goods then I must be fucking ruined.”

“I did what I had to do. Just following orders.”

“Some people just aren’t meant to be saved,” Kit muttered.

She smiled, an empty grin that creeped across her face but left her eyes cold and dead. “Trust me, Jacob should be the least of your worries.”

“You know that old saying that God never gives you more than you can handle?" She scoffed, hands held at her hips, posed like a superhero. The demigod she had become. "He must have had quite the plan for me.”

“I’ve made my mistakes. I hurt people. Innocent people . I can’t have you on my conscience too.”

1) “I don’t give up on anything, but I refuse to be a distraction."

2) “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

3) “Oh, don't worry, sir. I only save the bleeding heart act for the innocent.”

4) “He’s a charming fellow.” The venom in Rory’s voice wasn’t lost on anyone.

5)“Just have to use my feminine wiles and sweet talk the prick, yeah?"

6) “I’m not particularly fond of having to be like that. I do what I have to. Intimidation, fear – they’re good weapons. But I’m not some sadist, I don’t enjoy it.”

7) “That's just life though, isn't it? It's the fucking pits, and then we die, and that's that. No point letting it ruin what bit of good there is.”

8) “I know. It was him or me.”

9) Laughing, she picked up her cigarette from the sand and took a drag. “I certainly wouldn’t lie about something like that, Captain.”

10) “Two on however many. I’ll take those odds.”

11) “What? You want my life story?” Her eyes narrowed, challenging him just enough. “Is this our first date?” she asked, lifting the MRE packet. “Really splurged on dinner.”

12) “Whatever it takes.”

(and some lines from the COD MW fic i'm working on)

13) “I know, I know. Bureaucratic bullshit, not my fault, can’t let it bury me. Got enough going on inside this head already, yeah?”

14) “Tell me I can help at least. Tell me I can do something. Don’t just let me sit here in this empty house, alone, not when I can be out there making things right. Tell me you’re going to need me on this one, John.”

15) “Love you too, prat.”

16) “Oh, please, no.” She shook her head. “None of the formality. I might sound like I have a stick shoved up my arse, but I assure you, that’s not me.” She held out her hand to shake, and was met by a firm squeeze by Garrick’s hand. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

17) “I’m not sure the simple act of trying to keep you alive is being ‘too good’.”

#tagged #oc: kit cross #oc: rory sinclair #oc aesthetics

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idle-daydreams · 6 months

Note

idk if you’re doing oc-reader requests. But uh…yeah

could you do a Yandere fyodor with a reader inspired by my oc, Nera?

the gist is, she’s the guardian of the book(the one everyone wants). However, she has a deep rooted loyalty to the agency. The only thing rivaling that loyalty, would be her love for Sigma, one of the few she views as family. She’s distrustful of people, but still nice to people she knows and likes. Her ability allows her to feel the emotions of others, but she’s very sensitive to it. She usually wears mostly back formal wear, liking pants better so she can defend herself if need be

[A.N.: Sorry for being so late, I've been busy with midterms. Hope you like it!]

Rat And Mouse

Tw: Yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of murder and torture.

Nobody knew about your connection to the Book.

It was something you’d never discussed - not with the agency, despite your loyalty to them; not even with Sigma, though he’d been born of its pages. You’d kept your head down, continuing to pretend that you were just another Agency member, just an ordinary person with a near-useless Ability. It was worth more than your life if anyone found out.

And yet somehow, Fyodor did.

You cowered before him as much as you could while tied to a chair. Though the room was cold, your skin was slick with sweat, hair hanging loose around your face. Your head was still a little fuzzy, but you were certain you’d been chloroformed in your apartment.

The man sitting before you smiled serenely, one leg crossed over the other.

“Be calm, dorogaya,” he said.

You grimaced. Your ability allowed you to feel other peoples’ emotions, yet you could sense nothing from him. Not anger, nor excitement, nothing. It was as though he wasn’t a real person, but an empty doll with blank eyes and an unsettling smile.

It was unnatural, inhuman, and utterly terrifying.

“What do you want?” you said, trying to keep your voice from quavering.

Fyodor spread out his pale fingers. “Come now, I know they do not hire idiots at your Agency. Do you believe I do not know about your connection to the Book?”

Your heart leapt to your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to inject as much confusion as you could into your voice.

Fyodor smiled. “How disappointing.”

He stood up. You’d never seen Fyodor Dostoevsky in person before. In photos he’d seemed unimpressive – a pale, thin man with lanky hair and a tired expression. But what those pictures had failed to capture was the malice of his demeanour, the aura of darkness that hung around him. It was almost palpable, making your flesh crawl as he came closer.

“Please,” you said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just an innocent—”

“—secretary? Forgive me, but I do not believe you.”

You tensed as he placed a hand upon your face, expecting blinding pain before the oblivion of death overtook you. But nothing happened. His hand was ice-cold, but nothing else.

“I said to be calm,” he murmured. “I am not looking to kill you.” To your horror and confusion, he ran his hand through your hair in an almost gentle caress. “You are very beautiful. I should have noticed a piece of such monumental importance earlier.”

“I-I-” you began, “I’m not ly-”

“Ah, please do not. Sigma has already told me everything, so there is no need for you to lie any further.”

No. A leaden weight dropped in your stomach. Sigma wouldn’t have - he couldn’t have! ‘But he could,’ a treacherous voice in your head reminded you, ‘his Ability allows him to extract information from people with a touch, remember?’

You looked up to meet Fyodor’s indifferent gaze. “You’re lying.”

He shrugged. “Believe what you wish, dorogaya,” he said.

Then he turned and left the room.

You exhaled, mind racing a mile a minute. Sigma wouldn’t have betrayed you, even if he did have the ability to do so. He hated Fyodor, and had no reason to work with him ever since the Vampire Incident. But then, the only other person who’d known your secret was your ex – actually your first, and only – boyfriend, whom you hadn’t seen in several years, and whom Fyodor had no reason to contact unless he’d already suspected you of hiding something. And the only thing which would give him cause was...

‘No,’ you firmly told yourself. ‘It wasn’t Sigma. He would never betray me like that! I trust him with my life. Fyodor must have found out... some other way.’

You shook your head vehemently to convince yourself. It didn’t matter much at the moment anyway. What was more important was the fact that Fyodor would use you to find the Book. Though you were its Guardian, you possessed no supernatural link to it, only the knowledge of its location. Something that he could draw from you through torture.

You looked around. It was a small room. There was no window, no clock, no way to gauge the time. Fyodor had tied you up rather cruelly; the rope binding your wrists had been looped around your neck, so that you were forced to keep your arms bent at an unnatural angle to avoid strangling yourself. Your eyes welled with tears as the full extent of your plight hit you. Fyodor was a madman, a cruel and barbaric terrorist no matter how mildly he acted. Your ability was useless, your fighting skills non-existent - how were you going to get out of this alive?

‘Its fine,’ you told yourself. ‘The Agency will know that I’m missing. They’ll find me. I just have to hold it out till then.’

Your arms were burning, sweat beating your brow, when Fyodor returned.

“Ah, my bird has kept herself on her toes,” he said, as mildly as though he’d caught you in some trivial task. “I am glad my arrangement was not beyond your capabilities.”

“What do you want?” you said through gritted teeth. “I’m not telling you where the Book is no matter how matter what you do, so just forget about it.”

“No? That is quite the bold claim. Are you not afraid that I will hurt you?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You swallowed. “No matter how much you t-torture me or whatever. I’m not telling you anything.”

Fyodor nodded, looking only mildly disappointed. “I admire your resilience.” He reached for your hair again, running his fingers through it to straighten it out. “There is a lot about you that is to… admire.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. Fyodor movements were gentle, almost tender – more suited to a lover than to a lunatic. You tried to pull your head out of reach, only for him to pause with a raised brow.

“You do not like it?” he said. “Apologies.”

He stepped away. You followed his movements nervously as he began fiddling with the things on the sideboard. “Tell me,” he began, as there was the clink of glass, followed by the sound of pouring liquid. “Determined as you are to keep the location of the Book from me – what makes you think I do not already know?”

“What?”

You started. Fyodor turned back to you, a full wine-glass in his hand.

“Would you like something to drink?” he said, proffering the glass to you.

“No,” you said distractedly, ignoring the dryness in your throat. “What do you mean, you already know? You know where the Book is?”

Fyodor slowly took a sip of the wine as he strolled over to you. That faint, awful smile danced upon his bloodless lips as he leaned closer. “Well, we have used a page from it before,” he said softly. “Did you not wonder where and how we got it?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Your position as Guardian meant that you knew the Book’s location, but you had no way of knowing if someone had removed it from its place. If Fyodor had somehow found it…

“Ah, I have agitated you. I am sorry for that.” He held out the glass to you once again. The wine smelled enticing; it was a deep red colour, almost the rich red of blood in the dim light. Yet your stomach roiled at the sight of it. Fyodor had the Book… if Fyodor had the Book, then the world was already as good as done for.

You met his soulless eyes, and dropped your gaze to the floor.

“You’re lying,” you said miserably, trying to think of what to do next. It was your worst nightmare; to be battling wits against one of the smartest terrorists in the world.

“Why would I lie?” Fyodor casually circled behind you, tracing a finger across the rope around your neck. You braced yourself yet again, imagining his finger slicing your throat.

“If you already had the Book, you wouldn’t need me,” you said, biting back the scream that threatened to erupt from your lips. “You’d already be halfway already to your next awful scheme.”

“Oh?” He ran his fingers along the base of your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “And what makes you think that you are not part of that scheme?”

‘It can’t be.’ Your heart drummed painfully against your ribs. The door before you seemed to dance, the shadows in the corners laughing at your misfortune. “You – I’m only as important as the Book. The only reason you could want me is because of the Book. There’s no other reason.”

“Before the vastness of God, everybody is insignificant. But for sinners such as us, there might be other reasons.”

Something simmered beneath your skin, a faint flicker of an emotion so dark, so twisted, it made you feel ill.

Desire.

Lust.

Obsession.

It disappeared in a flash, as though dragged back into the void.

“I will give you a chance to make your own decision,” Fyodor murmured from behind you. There was a soft swish, and the pressure on your neck and wrists slackened. You slowly pulled your hands to your lap, realizing what had happened.

“You’re letting me go?”

Fyodor stepped back into your field of vision. “I told you; I am giving you a chance to make your own decision.” He pointed at the door. “You wish to leave? Leave.”

You stared at him, alarm bells ringing in your head. “What are you planning? You’re planning something.”

He smiled that awful, soulless smile of his. “It would not do to reveal all of my secrets, yes? You must figure out some things for yourself.”

You looked from him to the door, then back. There was no point in arguing with him. Fyodor hadn’t become who he was by being honest or transparent. There wasn’t a chance in hell that this wasn’t part of some elaborate strategy – but this was also your only chance to escape.

You stood up slowly, joints stiff after the prolonged restraint. “I don’t – whatever you’re planning,” you began guardedly, as you began backing towards the door, “but you’d better drop it. I’m not so stupid as to lead you to the Book.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to be.”

“So—” You broke off as you bumped into the door. You were wasting time. Fyodor watched as you fumbled with the doorknob, making no attempts to stop you. His eyes – those empty, all-knowing eyes – chilled you to the bone. You looked away as you flung open the door, fleeing the room. There was a narrow corridor that led down a flight of stairs, but you barely paid your surroundings any heed in your desperation to leave.

‘I have to get to the Agency,’ you thought. ‘I have to tell them about the Book. And I need to go check up on the Book, see if it is still safe. It has to be – I’d have known otherwise!’

But an awful thought hit you just as you reached the front door. What if Fyodor did have the Book?

“What is it?”

Fyodor spoke from behind you. You jumped; you hadn’t realized he’d caught up to you.

“Nothing.” You spun towards him, hand still gripping the door-knob. “I – stay away from me!”

He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I have done nothing,” he said. “That door is unlocked; you are free to leave. Why do you not do so?”

“Because you brought me here!” Wrung by a sudden jolt of anxiety, you threw open the door. A blast of cold wind hit you; it was night, a chill wind howling through the trees. A snow-covered landscape surrounded you, a foreign horizon visible from the distance.

“Where are we?” you said with dread.

“Siberia.” Fyodor cocked his head. “I did bring you here. But even I can make mistakes sometimes, can I not? Or do you consider me incapable of fault?”

“No! But—” Your head spun. You hadn’t drunk the wine; you hadn’t ingested anything back in the room. Were you still suffering the aftereffects of having been drugged? Or had Fyodor done something to you?

“But you said that I was part of your scheme,” you said, rubbing your temple. “Don’t tell me you realized your mistake in the last five minutes. So it stands to reason that letting me go is part of your plan.”

“Is it? What if you’ve already told me what I need to know?”

“Because I haven’t told you anything!”

“Haven’t you?”

“I—” You ground your teeth. You didn’t know. You didn’t know what Fyodor wanted. But if he was simply done with you then he would have killed you, which meant that letting you go was part of his plan. He was either hoping for you to lead him to the Book, or he was somehow using you to get to the Agency. There was no way to tell unless you wrenched it out of him.

You looked at him, and felt yet again, that faint prickle of desire radiating off of him. He claimed to be a human… and humans were capable of more than just fault. They could hunger, for more than just food or water. They could desire, and be swayed by it.

“You… want me,” you said slowly.

Fyodor smiled. “The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil fight; and the battlefield is the heart of man.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Is it not obvious?”

It wasn’t. The only obvious thing was that he trying to trick you, to manipulate you somehow. Whether or not Fyodor was attracted to you – and the idea made you both want to laugh and scream – his main motive was the Book and the eventual destruction of the world.

‘I can’t stand against him,’ you thought. ‘If I try to foil him directly, he’d crush me. But if I stay close to him, I may be able to get a hint of his plans, enough to take down the Decay of Angels for good. I could just pretend that I’m f-falling for him or something. So long as I don’t reveal anything about the Book, it’ll be fine.’

It was a sickening thought. The very idea of staying close to Fyodor filled you with dread; pretending to be his lover was straight-up repulsive. And the longer you stayed with him, the more you were at his mercy.

But you were a member of the Agency. And you were a Guardian of the Book. And if that meant putting your life on the line, you were willing to do it.

You took a deep breath.

“You want me,” you said, fighting down the panic clawing in your chest. “That’s why you brought me here. And you’re letting me go because—?”

“I brought you here in a fit of passion, but it is obvious that you don’t want to be with me. And I do not want a woman to submit to me by force.”

“That’s considerate of you,” you said carefully. “But I hope it isn’t a lie. You really have no interest in the Book?”

His smile widened. “Even if I swear on my life that I am not lying, would you believe me?”

‘Fair point.’ “So if I walk away, you’d just let me go?”

Fyodor gestured towards the snow-covered woods in response.

You bit your lip. “And how far are we from the nearest airport? How am I to get home?”

“Are you really asking me that?” he said, raising a brow.

“I don’t fancy travelling through the snow at night by myself. Your guidance is as good as flailing around blind.”

He inclined his head. “True. Well, we are far from the nearest city, at least a couple of days on foot. In any case you would find it difficult to go home from there — you have no documents on you, after all.” He slyly cocked his head to the side. “My private transport will be here in a couple of weeks; you are welcome to stay with me until then.”

The revulsion deepened. But you forced yourself to nod politely. “Then… I guess I have no choice but to stay.”

“A difficult decision.”

“But—”

The words stuck in your throat. How could you talk about living with a murderous psychopath like him? How could you simply state your demands as though hashing out a deal with a roommate?

Fyodor stepped up to you, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Do not worry, dorogaya,’ he said softly, his breath tickling your ear. “I will not force you in any manner. Anything you do will be entirely by your own will.”

You shivered. His presence pressed upon you like a shroud. ‘This is just a game,’ you reminded yourself. ‘A game of cat and mouse. Just play along for a while and you can bury this guy.’

“Thank you,” you said out loud. “Could you please step aside?”

Fyodor pulled away. You threw a glance over your shoulder, at the stars twinkling in the night sky. Then, squaring your shoulders, you stepped into the Rat’s Lair.

#yandere bsd #yandere fyodor #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere fyodor dostoevsky #manipulation

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