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whimsyfinny · 3 months

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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: Nudity

Chapter Word Count: 2552

—-MDNI—-

A/N: sorry this one took a while! I’ve had so much going on, I’ve struggled to get time to myself. I wrote this over the course of several nights so pls let me know of any errors as it’s only proof read by me

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 7

Dean and I stood side by side in the dimly lit parking lot, trying not to make eye contact with each other as Sam stood in front of us; arms folded across his chest with his foot tapping impatiently. He gnawed on his bottom lip, frowning and shaking his head. He was the spitting image of an angry mother.

“You did what?” He asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Look, Sammy,” Dean started and I was unable to tell if he was about to be boastful or apologetic.

“Don’t you ‘look Sammy’ me. We’re on a job Dean, couldn’t you have kept it in your pants a bit longer?”

“Sam I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean for it to happen, it just sort of…did,” I stepped in, embarrassment taking over as I caught sight of my reflection in the Impalas drivers side window. My hair was tousled and my lipstick was almost completely worn off save for a few streaks under my bottom lip. That, and also the fact that my shredded underwear was currently scrunched up in Deans pocket. I couldn’t tell if I was more horrified when I saw him pick them up off the study floor and ‘save them for later’, or the fact that I may have developed a new kink for having my panties sliced off my body with a hunting knife.

“(Y/n),” Sam’s eyes softened, “you have nothing to apologise for; Dean should know better.” His words made Dean scoff.

“She’s not all sunshine and rainbows Sam, she’s the one who started it.”

“I did not! I only told you to kiss me, not fuck me into that desk!”

Sam’s eyes widened and his ears went pink, Dean snapping back at me before the younger brother had a chance to think.

“Yes you did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Yes, you definitely did. Don’t lie,” he paused, his tone changing, “you can’t deny it sweetheart - you wanted me,” Dean smirked, gesturing to himself.

“Ok, prove it - what did I say?” I crossed my arms across my chest, remembering I wasn’t wearing a bra. His smirk grew, suddenly making me very aware that I was most likely wrong about this and he was going to be obnoxious about the fact that he was right.

“You said - and I quote - ‘are you gonna fuck me or what, Winchester?’ Now to me, that sounds like you instigating this.”

I scowled at him, wanting to slap that lipstick-smeared smirk right off his face.

“Fuck you,” I spat, rapidly having to cross my legs where I stood as I started to feel more ‘essence of Dean’ trickle down my thigh.

“You already did darlin’.”

“Ok ENOUGH!” Sam got between us, putting up his hands, “let’s just finish the job and go home. But just so you know,” he pointed at us, “you are BOTH in VERY big trouble.”

The ride back to the bunker was a little awkward. I sat in the back, not wanting to move too much for fear of making a mess on the impeccable upholstery and Sam sat in total silence, giving us both the cold shoulder. Dean however drove the whole way home with the biggest grin on his face, occasionally glancing at me in the rear view mirror. Sam had taken the liberty of packing everyone’s luggage into the Impala before we had even left the auction house, so I wasn’t even granted the simple pleasure of washing Deans intoxicating scent from my hair in the motel shower. I just had to sit there for the next three hours breathing him in and replaying every red hot second of our time together in that study.

Dean pulled into the underground garage to the bunker and before he’d even put it in park I’d thrown the door open and jumped out, racing back to my room. I heard Dean shout after me but I had sprinted too far to know what he’d said. I ran through the corridors like a princess in a castle; long dress bunched up in my fists so I didn’t trip, with the rest billowing behind me as I frantically searched for my destination in this labyrinth. Upon reaching my door I flung it open and raced inside, slamming it behind me. I paced into the bathroom, heels clicking on the tiles and flicked on the light before turning the shower on and wincing at the loud clanking still coming from the plumbing in here. As the water began to patter into the shower basin I hurriedly peeled off my shoes and my dress before sticking my toe into the water now pooling in the bottom. The moment it was the perfect temperature I stepped in, sighing as the liquid poured over me and washed away the electric tingle on my skin left behind by the older Winchesters hands. I felt normal again, and much less sticky too as I lathered soap over myself. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as I slid down the tiles and sat down, letting the shower soak my hair. I tried my best to steady my mind and be calm, but all that I could think about was Dean. The way he touched me, running his rough hands over my soft skin. The way said my name; moaning it in a deep breathless voice. And oh boy… the way his mouth felt on mine was like something out of this world, the taste of him alone made me dizzy. I wanted to run to wherever he was right now and press my lips to his - to get high off of him again. It’s a crying shame that he’s such a jackass, so naturally I’m reluctant to give him the satisfaction. He’d be smug for days - or weeks - if I even mentioned that this was how I was feeling, let alone if I was actually acting on the impulses.

I must’ve sat in the bottom of the shower for at least twenty minutes, my brain going over the events on a loop, replaying again and again. In the end I gave up trying to silence my thoughts and turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fuzzy white towel around myself. I grabbed a smaller second towel and dried my hair, leaving it damp but not dripping as I walked into the bedroom. I searched for my duffle for a few minutes before it dawned on me: it was still in the car. ALL of my clothes were in there.

“Shit shit shit shit,” I searched through the wardrobe and dresser in the room, hoping to find something, ANYTHING, that I could wear to go and retrieve my bag but there was nothing to be found. I sat on the edge of the bed contemplating my options as I started to shiver, my damp hair making me cold. I considered wearing the dress again, but the stains on it made me think otherwise as I was now clean and fresh from the shower. My eyes darted to the door. There’s only one option: theft. Deans room was right opposite mine and he didn’t spend much time in there so the chances of me running into him were slim. I stood up, determination coursing through me as I marched to my bedroom door, opened it and quietly stepped into the hallway. I looked left and right, sighing in relief at the emptiness. I quietly padded across to Deans door, incredibly aware of how cold the air was out here. I grasped the handle and twisted, the door opening with a small click.

“Yes!” I whispered to myself, grateful it was already unlocked. Ducking in I closed the door behind me and spun around, pressing my back to the cool wood to observe the room. Eyes widening, my blood ran cold and I dropped to the floor. Dean was asleep - or so he seemed to be - above the covers and still fully dressed in his suit, a nudie mag open and covering his face. He had one hand behind his head and the other rested on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath. FUCK. I looked around whilst on all fours, feeling the dust from the floor sticking to my damp skin. So much for the shower. I spotted Deans dresser off to the side of the room; if he was asleep, I should be able to sneak in, grab a T-shirt and sneak out again with no problem. I crawled over to the drawers and started sliding them open painfully slowly to inspect the contents. It wasn’t until I opened the fourth drawer that I struck gold. Silently cheering to myself I snatched the first T-shirt I saw and pushed the draw closed. As I turned around to leave I near enough jumped out of my skin, shrieking a little. Dean was now laying on his side, head propped up with one hand and he watched me in total silence, the corner of his lips turned up.

“You need any help down there?” His voice was low and gravelly.

“No thank you,” I stood up, clutching his T-shirt in one hand and trying not to let my towel fall with the other, the corner now refusing to tuck in. “I got what I came for.”

“And you need one of my T-shirts because…?”

“None of your business,” I taunted, inching my way towards the door. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“It is if you’re being a little thief.”

“I’m only borrowing it.”

“Sure you are sweetheart,” he grinned, turning to lay on his back again, this time propped up on his pillows against the headboard with his hands behind his head. There was silence for a few moments as he chewed on his bottom lip, eyeing me up and down. He made me feel totally exposed. Out of nowhere he jumped up, reaching me where I stood by the door in one swift movement.

“I tell you what - you can keep the T-shirt for life on one condition,” he stepped closer, those piercing green eyes keeping mine entranced. I swallowed.

“What condition…?” My voice suddenly felt very small and quiet as a result of his close proximity.

“Drop the towel and put it on.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I wasn’t able to stop the heat rising to my cheeks and I couldn’t tell if it was from frustration at his arrogance or the fact that the low rumble of his voice was making my knees weak. The words bouncing off the walls in my mind failed to leave my lips, and in my silence he spoke up again.

“Or unless you’re happy walking all the way to the garage in nothing but a towel, you still have the option to refuse.” I scowled and smacked his chest.

“You knew?! If you knew I’d left my bag behind, why didn’t you bring it?”

“Because,” he put his hand on the wall beside my head and leaned in a little, “where’s the fun in that?” I tried my best to hold his gaze, fighting every urge to look away as my heart started to beat faster and faster. I’ve already fucked the man so what have I got to lose? I placed my hands firmly on Deans chest and pushed with enough force to knock him back, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of the bed, making him collapse onto it. Leaning back on his hands he looked at me expectantly as I took a step towards him and away from the door. I tried my best to keep a stern expression, refusing to let him know that any of this was affecting me - the last thing I wanted was for smug old Dean Winchester to know that everything he does makes my heart hammer in my chest. I threw the T-shirt at him, hard enough that he was taken aback as he clutched the dark fabric in his large hands. A look of disappointment started to cross his face before I reached up and untucked my towel letting it fall to the floor as I stood in front of him, fighting every urge not to cover myself up. At first I was unable to look him in the eye, scared of what that alluring evergreen stare would do to me if I did. Eventually I caved in, biting my lip as I saw how entranced he was; eyes flitting over every curve on my body, studying me like a work of art. I watched him swallow, throat bobbing as he licked his lips, jaw going slack and his pupils dilating. He was silent. I took another step forward so I was in reach of him and his hand immediately shot out to touch my thigh. Right as his fingers grazed my skin I smacked his hand away, pulling him from his trance.

“Please…” was all he managed to say, all cockiness gone from his attitude. I snatched the T-shirt from his loose grip, pulling it on over my head and down over my body, finally covering myself from his burning hot gaze. Dean was finally pulled from his trance when he could no longer see the curves of my figure, his eyes eventually meeting mine again. He looked a little flustered, his hands now crossed in his lap.

“My clothes look good on you,” he said, an unusual tone to his voice - something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He eyed my chest, observing the way the loose black fabric fell over the soft curves of my breasts and did little to hide my perky nipples. His eyes travelled south, surveying the rest of me before stopping and lingering at my thighs right where his top ends, hinting at the shape of my ass cheeks hiding underneath. He probably would have sat there all evening and ogled at me, however I could feel the tiredness start to hang heavy in my body and weigh on my eyelids, getting worse as the minutes passed. I groaned internally, remembering I still needed to go and get my duffle. But there was something about the way that Dean was looking at me that was making it hard to leave. I took a few more steps towards him until I was standing between his knees, swatting his hands away as they skimmed the backs of my thighs, sending goosebumps over my skin. I grabbed his chin unexpectedly, making him flinch. However it was only a matter of seconds until he was like putty in my hands. His muscles relaxed and he looked up at me with hooded eyes, mouth agape as I tilted his chin up to face me. I leaned down, our lips millimetres apart as I felt his hot rapid breath fan over my cheeks. I watched his pupils blow wide at the close proximity, a shiver ghosting over his skin as he stared up at me.

“Goodnight Dean,” I hummed, before letting go and standing up straight, turning to leave the room. I picked up my towel and opened the door, looking over my shoulder one last time to witness the starstruck Winchester sitting in a daze right where I left him.

“Thanks for the T-shirt.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #smut #eventual smut #spn #supernatural

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creator-of-calm-queer-chaos · 7 months

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Ten Fics, Share a Line, Ten People

The wonderful @beepbeepsan tagged me in this!

(Astrabear I apologise for tagging you, I did in fact copy and paste this and forgot to take out your tag lmao)

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Sinc Itur Ad Astra (Good Omens)

A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through Crowley’s body, from his chest outward. It’s quite hot, but comfortable, like sinking into a bath. Crowley feels Aziraphale wrap an arm around him, and Crowley pulls him even closer.

I wish this moment could last forever, Crowley thinks.

Then, in the middle of the perfect kiss, Crowley notices that the hot feeling in his chest isn’t going away. Instead, it’s just getting hotter and hotter. It’s almost burning - no, it’s definitely burning now. Why is it burning?

2. Finder's Keepers (Sherlock)

“Just… just make it stop,” Sherlock whispered.

“John, Sherlock is asking me to make it stop. Honestly it’s a miracle that he’s still alive, there’s an awful lot of blood here. What if I… put him out of his misery?”

“NO!” John screamed again. “Sherlock, hang on, I think I’m almost there.”

“Well, then, don’t want you to crash our party, do we?” the man snarled, pointing the gun at Sherlock’s head. “Any last words, pretty boy?”

All Sherlock could do was groan.

“All right then. Bye bye!”

BANG.

3. Blood in the Water (Sherlock)

“Sherlock.” John’s hand moved to his wrist and gripped it like a vice. “You- you have to pr- promise me.”

Blood dribbled out of his mouth. There was blood everywhere . It covered the floor, it covered their clothes, it covered his hands, some of it was dripping into the pool. Again, Sherlock’s mind held only one thought: Save John. Save John. Save John. Over and over like a mantra.

“Shut up,” Sherlock spluttered out. So much blood. “Save your energy, please. I can’t lose you!”

“Promise me you’ll catch the fucker.” His voice was like iron. Iron as blood.

“I promise,” Sherlock whispered.

4. What if Cas died how Sam died in S2? (Supernatural)

But Castiel didn’t move, Dean couldn’t feel a pulse beneath the hand on his neck.

“CAS!” Dean screamed, clutching his best friend tight, sobbing.

He looked at the pool of blood on the ground, soaking the dirt and- and as Cas’s hand lost warmth, the silver ring on his hand was soaked in red.

5. "Can you hear me?" w/ Clint and Natasha (Marvel / The Avengers)

“Let’s keep this between us, then, shall we?”

He brought the flat of the blade under Clint’s chin. He gently pushed it up, forcing Clint to look him in the eyes. He smirked, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, you’ll be so much fun.”

6. Made to Watch w/ Fitzsimmons (Agents of Shield)

She took out the knife and cut away his shirt. Then, she placed the tip of the knife into his skin. Fitz shakily inhaled and held his breath.

The woman began to carve.

At first, Fitz bit his tongue, but within seconds, he was screaming. Simmons was sobbing, sitting on the floor. The woman only grinned and kept dragging the knife through Fitz’s skin. Blood flowed from the wounds in huge waves, puddling around them. Fitz trembled and screamed and wailed. And yet he let it continue.

7. Secrets Revealed w/ Ward and Skye (Agents of Shield)

Skye was on the ground. She couldn’t breathe well. Her hands were sticky. Why were her hands wet?

There was a gun in her hands. She needed to fire it.

Fire. Click. Click. Nothing. Laughing. Someone was laughing. Why was someone laughing?

“Goodbye, Skye,” a voice said.

8. Muzzled w/ May and Daisy (Agents of Shield)

“Who’s that for?” Daisy snarked from where she sat, sitting up straighter and blinking rapidly. “Did you get me a present?”

“In a way,” the man said. The two guards hefted her up by her armpits and placed her in the middle of the room. The man sat on the ground behind her, and the woman in front of her. “We’re going to have some fun now that we know we have the time.”

May inhaled sharply from across the room.

9. Caged w/ Steve and Bucky (MCU/Avengers)

“Why did you draw me?” a voice said.

Steve jumped and looked up. The Winter Soldier had appeared in front of the cage. He held a plate of bread and cheese.

“Because I knew you,” Steve answered cautiously.

Not-Bucky opened the cage door and stepped in, placing the food on the ground. He leaned against the wall and closed the door with a slam. They were locked in there together

“Tell me what you remember,” Not-Bucky said.

10. Found Footage w/ Peter and the Team (MCU)

He wailed and screamed and pleaded, but nothing deterred them. He yelled for them, for Mr Stark and Natasha and Steve and Clint and Ned and everyone he loved. But none of them arrived.

This is open to anyone who would like to particpate! I'll tag a few people in case they want to, but no pressure at all :)

@whoopsitswhump, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @painsandconfusion, @atlantis-is-burning

#tag game #whump #fanfiction #fics #ao3 #fanfic #my writing #y'all it was so hard to find ten fics that I don't hate #i reopened that ridiculously long mcu/hp crossover fic from when i was 12 #it's so bad #i'm tempted to orphan it #whump fanfiction #this tag game isn't for anything specific it just turns out that all the fics i don't hate are whump

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mydarllinglover · 10 months

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Alone || Sharing Stories

"Circle around. Don't let them slip by." Voices whispered, filling the air.

Dog barked at the noise, Natalia grabbed hold of him, keeping him close to her as they tried to find the unknown sounds.

"Keep them together."

"You die now."

Walkers loomed towards them through the rain and fog.

"Go. Now." Michonne ordered, quietly.

A woman with a bandage around her head picked up the mask, whilst Aaron and Daryl lifted Jesus's body, to take back with them to be buried.

Natalia attacked the walkers that got too close to them.

"Go. I'll cover you." Michonne told her, as the others left.

An walker with a knife went to sneak up on Michonne, but Natalia got there quicker, stabbing the female walker in the head.

They both peered down on the "walker." Before meeting each others eye, nodding.

"Come on! Let's go!" Daryl called for them, he then locked the gates of the cemetery behind them.

"So you managed to climb over the gate, huh?" Natalia spoke to Michonne, as they walked, the sun was up, it was the next morning.

"See you managed to find your way back home."

"As you can see, it was a short stay."

"I saw them, the kids, hear Evie's gonna become Enid's second."

"I didn't know that."

"She's a good kid, they all are." Michonne spoke. "The baby, is that..."

"Yep. Archie, Archie Carl, he's ours." Natalia answered.

"Oh, so you guys were busy, in the woods." Michonne smirked at the woman.

"Who are these guys?" She pointed at the two women ahead.

"Yumiko and Magna." Michonne interrupted their muttering to each other.

"Ah, part of the group that my niece brought back."

"You the famous Aunt Nat who would've fought for our stay?" Magna looked over her shoulder at the woman.

"Who the hell would even think about doing this?" Yumiko rambled, passing the mask thing to Magna.

"I suspect some vessel filled with a chunky salsa of abnormal impulses and metastasized rage." Eugene gave his input, as Michonne and Natalia helped him walk.

"It's full on bat-shit." Magna shook her head.

"You think there's more?" Aaron asked.

"Yeah." Daryl nodded, looking around.

"So, what do we do?" Yumiko asked.

"Right now, keep moving." Michonne told her.

Once they got to the horses, they were able to put Jesus across it, to get him back with them.

Daryl looked back at the two women, who were riding the other horse.

"Judith vouched for 'em, so do I." Michonne spoke.

"All right." He grunted.

"It's gonna mean a lot to them." She continued. "Bringin' him back. Burying him."

"Sorry I couldn't do that for you." Daryl apologised, even though Natalia had been pushing onto him that that wasn't his place, and he didn't need to, he never listened.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do it for all of us." Michonne said. "Thank you, both of you. For trying to find him. And... for after."

"What matters now, is that we're together, now, that you were there." Natalia told her.

"Thanks for saving my ass back there." Michonne smiled.

"Just paying back the favour, 'Sides, I wouldn't let my best friend go like that." Natalia returned the smile, holding hands for a brief moment.

Dogs barking started again.

"We got some tails." Magna said.

"The living kind or original recipe?" Eugene asked.

"Let's find out." Daryl decided. "Good Dog."

They had got to a bridge.

Walkers were making their way towards them.

Daryl had shot at their legs, working out which was a walker and which was pretend, he found out as the man let out cries, the walkers quick to take him down for them as they tore the man apart.

A few turned away as others continued forward, then one man brandished his knife, running for Michonne, who sliced off his arm, stabbing him in the chest.

Natalia went for the girl who attempted to walk away, knowing she wouldn't get out of this, she dropped to her knees, hands up in the air.

"Nat! Wait" Daryl stopped her from killing the girl, ripping the mask off, revealing what looked to be a teenager with long dark hair.

"Please..." She sobbed. "Please don't kill me. Please."

Natalia dragged her knife back with her boot, slowly crouching down to pick it up without taking her eyes off the girl.

"How many?" Michonne asked, catching the mask Daryl tossed her.

"Please... you killed them all. It's just me now." The girl cried.

Natalia held her own knife to the girls throat.

"I don't believe you." Michonne spoke for her.

"There ain't no time. We'll take her with us." Daryl spoke, spotting the herd closing in on them.

"Get up, slow." Natalia breathed, grabbing the bit of rope that was handed to her, tying the girls hands together behind her back.

"Hey, you try anything, you won't have to pretend." Michonne threatened.

"Let's go. Come on." Daryl encouraged, taking the girl from his wife's grasp.

They soon made their way back to the Hilltop, the girl had a white bandana around her face, blocking her view as she sat on top of the horse.

The people of Hilltop gathered to welcome their leader back.

Tara and Enid left the house, with the twins following behind the young woman, Archie was on Tara's hip.

Daryl, Yumiko and Magna helped get Jesus down, as Michonne and Natalia yanked the girl off the horse, dragging her towards the cells.

"This who did it?" Tammy- Rose asked, once the people of Hilltop had realised Jesus's fate, their relief and happiness quickly vanishing

"No. One of her people." Michonne answered.

"You locking her up?" She continued to pester with questions.

"We're getting answers." Tara told her.

"And then what? Tara, Jesus trusted you, so we're all lookin' to you now. But people are gonna want justice for this. And when that time comes, we're gonna look to you for that, too."

"I know." She promised, following the pair, Daryl had also caught up with them.

"Evie?" Natalia gasped, spotting her daughter in one of the cells, Henry was in the other.

Daryl opened the door, pulling her out.

"Get inside." He told the other girl, pushing her in.

"Daryl?" Henry called.

"Evie, what the hell are you doing here? What are the both of you doing here?" Natalia looked at Henry through the bars as she assessed her daughter.

"Drunk and disorderly, you can either bunk her up with Henry, or call her sentence." Tara told her.

"What's going on?" Henry continued to look for answers.

"Jesus is dead." Daryl spoke, glaring at Evie, she was supposed to be babysitting, and now she's being sentenced for drunk and disorderly, with Henry of all people.

Tara and Michonne dealt with the other girl as Daryl unlocked Henry's door, pushing Evie inside.

"Both of you shut up, we'll talk about this later." He growled, as they turned to watch the interrogation.

"How many more of you are there?" Michonne pressed, when she kept bullshitting.

"They're all dead." She cried. "My family's dead. Please just stop."

"Not until you start answering our questions."

"Your name. Start with your name." Tara said.

"I told you, I don't have one." She answered. "None of us do. None of us did. That's not how it worked."

"How did it work?"

"Why do you wear their skins?" Daryl asked. "Answer!" He demanded, when she was quiet.

"They were good people." She sobbed harder. "We were good. It's what we did to live. That's-- That's all we wanted to do. Live."

"Bullshit." Natalia scoffed.

"Oh, you're saying you had to do this?" Tara asked.

"You wouldn't understand." She shook her head.

"Then make us understand. What the hell were you doing?" Michonne tried again.

"We, we were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us, and now they're dead."

"We attacked you?" Natalia took a step forward. "Sweetheart, we were tryna find our friend, and you and your "good people" ambushed us."

"They're dead. They're all dead. And I don't have anything." She cried for herself, but no one was buying it.

Michonne clamped a hand on the back of her chair, stopping her from rocking backwards.

"What did your people know about us?" She asked. "Do they know about this place?"

"I don't know."

"Huh?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything. They didn't tell me anything. Please stop asking me. Just leave me alone, please. Please just leave me alone."

They sighed in defeat, leaving the cell's.

"I don't trust a word coming out of her mouth." Michonne started.

"She's a good actor, I'll give her that." Natalia sighed.

"We'll get it out of her." Daryl promised.

"We try again in the morning." Tara decided.

"You'll have to do it without me." Michonne told them. "Taking my people back first thing. Can't risk them not knowing about this back home."

"Okay." Tara nodded. "Thanks, for being here and for helping. That group you brought in, I'm gonna let them know that they can stay. I guess that's my call now. That's what he would've done."

"Thanks, Tara."

She nodded, heading off to go deal with her duties, and to probably go check on her girlfriend.

"Keeping her here is a risk." Michonne told the pair who were still there. "You both know that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Her people, you reckon they'll come for her, I mean, she looks Evie's age, think she's got a parent, someone looking after her?" Natalia asked.

"That's what I'm worried about." Michonne admitted.

"I'll get her to talk." Daryl nodded.

"If she doesn't... You know what you have to do."

"We'll get her to talk." Natalia stepped in. "I'm gonna go check on the kids, you find out what the hell Evie and Henry did last night." Natalia told Daryl, hugging Michonne.

"On it."

"Hey, come meet, Archie, officially." She smiled at her friend, pulling her away.

Rosita had been watching the twins and baby, whilst Siddiq fixed Eugene's knee.

"Mommy!" Daisy called, spotting her as her and Michonne walked into the infirmary.

"Mommy!" Bambi repeated as they both swarmed to hug her.

"Hey, hey guys, hanging out with Aunt Ro and Eugene and Siddiq?"

"Mommy, Siddiq popped Eugene's knee in and it went phew and it cracked and it was so gross!" Daisy smiled excitedly.

"Glad I could be of service of entertainment to your younglings after saving my life, today." Eugene nodded at her.

"Oh, wow, so having fun, then?" Natalia laughed, taking the baby that was handed to her. "Thanks, Rosita, Thanks Eugene."

"'Course, anything for these lil guys." She patted the twins heads. "And that bundle of cuteness."

"Hey, Bam, Daisy, I want you to meet another one of Mommy's friends, this is Aunt Michonne."

"Hi." They waved at her.

"Hey, guys, I used to know you when you were this big." She smiled at Archie.

"Oh, yeah, I remember that." Daisy lied.

"No, you don't." Bambi scowled at her. "Mommy, Daisy's telling fibbers, again."

"Hey, guys, why don't you go find Uncle Aaron, ask him to show you the animals." Natalia told them.

"Okay!"

"My kids, everybody, you gotta love them." Natalia commented, when the girls ran out the door. "Anyway, this is my favourite child, because he can't walk or talk yet."

"Awe, come here, Archie." Michonne let out a sigh, taking the baby, who apparently loved cuddles with everybody, something they discovered very quickly, after getting to The Hilltop.

After Daryl and Natalia left to go rescue Eugene, Tara had begun passing the baby around as though it were a meet and greet back in the day.

"I didn't even know you guys would ever have another kid." Rosita folded her arms across her chest.

"We didn't think we would either, it was an accident, y'know what I mean. But I'm grateful, because of you." She kissed Archie's cheek.

"I think after the third kid, you gotta stop using the accident excuse." Rosita chuckled.

"It was, I swear." She put her hands up. "Y'know, I thought he was a girl the whole time, until I gave birth, the lil sneak."

"How did you and Daryl manage that, that's really dangerous, Nat." Michonne told her.

"Oh, Daryl wasn't there, just me, I was in a cabin, so it was fine, and Evie left to go find him and the twins, but it was fine, we're both alive, and I've dealt with worse, it was a piece of cake."

"Have yet to work out if you are terrifying or truly an amazement." Siddiq shook his head.

"I prefer being acknowledged as both." She shrugged.

"Neither of 'em will talk." Daryl told her, catching up, after putting the two teens back in their joint cell.

They were watching Aaron show the twins the horses, Natalia hugged Archie to her.

"Really?" She asked.

"Yup, won't give me names, where they got it from, but they're real sorry, think Henry's more sorry than Eve, she was more pissed at him."

"Good to know, we really gonna leave her in there?"

"Rules of the Hilltop, she wanted to come here and get lit first chance she got, that's her problem."

"Yeah, you're right, I just, I can't believe she would do something like that, y'know? We didn't raise her like that, hell, I think the last time I had alcohol, was the day before I met her."

"You mean, when we had spaghetti instead of going to that party, an' you got hammered."

"In my defence, it was my birthday." She ignored Daryl's furrowed brows at her confession, changing the topic, quickly. "What are we gonna do about that girl? The other one."

"I'll talk to her, find out what she knows." Daryl shrugged, taking Archie out of her arms. "And if that fails, thinking maybe you could. You're the best judge of character we got."

"I don't want to trust her, I don't want to figure her out and find out why she's walking around with walker faces on, unless it's something that's gonna harm us or our people."

"But you do want to." He finished her train of thought. "She's a kid, and something's nagging at you, I know."

"I think you know me a bit too well." She folded her arms across her chest. "It kinda bugs me actually, If I'm being honest."

Jesus's funeral was held the next day, it was a tough conversation to have with the twins, especially considering they would have to explain that the man they met with the funny name, just the day before, had come back dead, and what a funeral even was.

But for two five year olds, they had managed to stay very respectful, listening carefully and being quiet throughout the whole sermon, even though Daryl and Natalia were mourning their friend, they were both very proud of the twins, they just hoped this was the last funeral they would be attending.

After, Daryl had left to go deal with the girl in the cell, to get some answers.

After setting Archie down for a nap, and giving the girls an activity, she found Daryl sat outside the cell window.

She took a seat beside him, hearing three voices talking.

"I'm Henry, she's Evie."

"Henry, my dad's seriously going to kill you if you don't shut up." Evie's voice hissed.

"Evie relax, he's not here. No reason to be rude to her." Henry told her.

"I'm Lydia." The girl ignored her worry.

"My parents, they don't wanna hurt you, they're good people too, but, your people gave us a reason to feel threatened, just be honest with my dad, and it'll turn out better for you." Evie told her. "If not, then it's only self defence."

Daryl and Natalia silently low-fived, that was their girl.

They had sat out there most of the day, listening to the three teens talk, how Lydia opened up, told them her story.

When Natalia returned from checking on the kids, Daryl would quietly fill her in on anything important, but only when he felt he had to.

"I remember that look in his eye. Still see it. How cold it is. Was." Lydia corrected herself, telling them about her father. "Why am I even telling you two this?"

"Beats the quiet. Beats being alone."

"Alone, seriously?" Evie scoffed.

"I've never been alone." Lydia continued. "My people travelled in groups with the dead. I miss the sounds... the smell..."

"Not gonna lie, walking around in dead people's skins is pretty messed up."

"I've been covered in guts of the dead, and I would still prefer that over wearing their faces." Evie kicked something as she sighed.

"Thinking this place isn't gonna fall like every other place... that's messed up."

"It's not, because it won't, these people worked hard for this, they didn't take any easy routes out." The blonde got defensive, She had also dealt with shit during the war, things she couldn't forget.

"Evie, chill out." Henry told her.

"Your dad's an asshole like mine." Lydia spoke up. "All you did was sneak out. Is it even that hard? Are there a lot of guards posted here?"

"We're not dumb enough to fall for that." Evie raised a brow. "And my dad's not an asshole. You're just a stranger, he's an actual good person."

"Your dad doesn't even wanna be here, he's only doing it for your mom and my mom." Henry told her. "That's why he had you living in the woods for years, with your sisters and brother."

"That's not why." She scowled at him again.

"I thought you said both your moms died." Lydia stood up, looking at the pair as they sat on opposite sides of the small bed.

"Second mom, I mean." Henry corrected. "They're both tough. Not somebody you want to mess with."

"I used to call mine my back up." Evie scoffed, "She's been my mom longer than my real mom was, same with my dad, I barely remember them, my first dad, he used to have a crush on my mom, and so did my second dad, guess he got it in favour that the first died in her arms." She laughed.

"Hey, what happened to your dad?" Henry asked Lydia.

"My dad was a stupid man. My mom, though, she kept me alive. Kept me safe. She's a lot like your mom's. You don't mess with her, either."

They had no choice but to interfere when Henry started talking about the Kingdom, even when Evie kept telling him to shut up.

"Hey. What's going on?" Henry asked.

"You been pardoned." Natalia told him, unlocking the door of the cell door. "Both of you. Let's go."

"Mom." Evie started.

"Let's go." She pushed both of them forward.

Daryl was waiting for him at the top, grabbing hold of the boy and yanking him forward.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" He circled the boy. "Huh? Telling her about the Kingdom? What if there's more of her people out there? You got family at the Kingdom."

"I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't think that it would..."

"I told you!" Evie yelled.

"Wait. You were listening?" He caught on.

"Yeah, of course we were, me and Nat, few of the others, we've been switching off, seeing what she'd say to you."

"You were using us."

"Yeah and it was workin', too." Daryl stared coldly at him.

"She's a good person who got messed up out there. And she's right about you. You know that? You're an asshole."

"Henry, shut up." Evie pushed him back. "You were being stupid, what for some girl that you just met? What happened to Enid?"

"Oh, yeah, that's why you were sucking faces with Gage. I told you we should've stopped drinking, but no Evie never wants to listen." He pointed at her, who's face had got completely red, as she backed down. "You want answers, get 'em yourself." He looked back to the girls parents, before walking away.

"Evie? Who's Gage?" Natalia demanded.

"No one, just.. leave it alone." She scampered as well, before her parents could interrogate her too.

Daryl was even more angry, when he went down to talk to Lydia.

Natalia decided to spend the remainder of the day with Archie, taking him in, appreciating him, soaking up how little he still was, and when the girls were done with their chores, they joined in, she gave the teenagers their space, knowing they needed it.

At night time, Archie was kicking up a fuss, whilst the twins were trying to sleep, Natalia guessed he was missing his dad, considering he'd barely seen him for the past couple of days.

She left the trailer, the one her and Daryl had got married in when they escaped all those years ago, to get some fresh air, trying to soothe her sons cry's.

"It's alright, shh, lovey, it's okay." She tried, bouncing him as she went in search for her husband.

When she had found him, he pulled her to a stop, covering her mouth as he pointed ahead, three people were scampering around, whispering, Evie, Henry and Lydia, until Lydia demanded to go back to the cell.

"If my dad catches us, we're all gonna be in so much trouble." Evie complained, as they rushed past, not even catching the two adults.

"He's not gonna catch us, we're putting Lydia back, so it's fine, right Lydia?"

She didn't give a response.

Natalia was the one to give the girl her breakfast, finding the two other teens right where she expected.

She had moved silently in order to not wake them. She noticed how Henry and Lydia were holding hands, and Evie curled up by herself, away from Lydia's cell.

"Ahem." She cleared her throat.

"Mom." Evie gasped.

"Mrs Dixon, this was my idea, she didn't wanna be alone, so we were just keeping her company." Henry sat up.

"Go." She nodded her head. "Go help your father with the kids"

"Will do, sorry mom." Evie kissed her cheek as she scrambled past, Henry followed.

"My ear hurts. Everything hurts." Lydia told her. "Does Daryl still have those pills?"

"You should know something, my husbands the soft one, after what you tried with him, I'm not falling for your bullshit." Natalia sighed, setting down the tray of food, grabbing a seat to sit down in.

"My mom's not coming for me." Lydia said. "None of them are. If someone dies or gets taken or whatever, they move on. Like they never existed. That's how it's always been. They don't come into contact with big groups unless they don't have a choice. That's why I-- I was trying to find out everything I could about you. 'Cause then when I escaped. I'd have something to give them. A reason for them to take me back."

"Your mom needs a reason to take you back?" Natalia asked, tilting her head.

She looked down.

"Think our moms would've got on pretty well." Natalia commented. "Except, my mom was clean, very clean, she wouldn't of been walking around with masks of dead people. She would've washed her hands with me if she could. She never hit me, never often, only when I deserved it, to make me better, she hated it too, because she loved me, and it hurt her more to cause me pain, but, she was mostly the type of parent that liked to pretend her kid didn't exist, unless it was something she could shove in other people's faces, prove to them that even as a single mother, she was better than them."

"What about your dad?" She asked.

"My dad was my best friend, and I was his, until he died, when I was four, allergies of all things, sometimes, I used to wonder if my mom did it, if she killed my dad just to get rid of him, but she loved my dad more than she liked me."

"Did she make it?"

"I don't know, she went on a cruise, with my step-dad, right before shit hit the fan, she's most likely dead, or she could still be on that boat, just sailing around the world, avoiding all this shit." Natalia finished talking about herself, opening herself up had done the job, she could see it on Lydia's face. "Where are our people, and don't bother lying to me, I can tell."

"If my mom found them... I can't think of a reason she'd keep them alive. Sorry." She sighed.

Natalia caved, tugging out the bottle of pills Daryl had handed her when she left, moving to drop them in the girls hand, then grabbed a spoon full of water, handing it to her.

The girl graciously accepted it, throwing the pills back.

"See what happens when you co-operate, you earn things." Natalia took the spoon back. "She got a camp somewhere?"

"Near the guard bridge. Maybe a mile east. But we don't-- They don't stay in one place for long."

"What you told my daughter, and Henry, about your family, were you telling the truth?"

"I thought all of it was." She answered honestly. "I needed it to be. But I had it all mixed up. It was a lie, but... the lie wasn't mine."

"Your mom told you it all, like she was the good guy, right? Until you believed it."

"Deep down I knew, I knew what she was. I knew what she did." Lydia agreed, sadly. "My dad was my best friend, too. But then, he was against the wall, scared. And my mom was there. Had that cold look in her eye. Then she-- She got her knife. And then she-."

"I know." Natalia sighed gently, soothingly. "It's okay. I know what you mean, that's alright."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you." She apologised. "I'm sorry I wasted your time."

"You've done more than enough, Lydia, don't worry about it. Eat your food. Evie is a talented doctor, get her to check you over, considering you seem to know her quite well, on your midnight strolls."

She then left the cells.

"So this whole time. Lydia's mom made her think it was her fault her dad died?" Henry badgered her, as soon as she left the cells. "Why would a mom do that to a kid?"

"Sometimes, people end up with kids when they shouldn't, just how it goes."

"So what happens now?" Henry asked. "Can she stay here with us?"

"It's not up to me, come on, get Lydia some fresh clothes, I'm gonna report back to Daryl and Tara, see what we can do about scoping out that camp. Maybe after you can point out to me who this Gage person is."

"He's an asshole." Henry gave his opinion as he walked the other way. "I told Evie she could do better."

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #carl grimes #carol peletier #daryl fanfiction #glenn rhee #michonne #rick grimes #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x y/n #daryldixonalonetwd #darylxnatalia #daryl imagines

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stop-pressing-e · 11 months

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The Lost Swan - Chapter 10

Prev chapter | New chapter Prologue

/Sometimes the recovery stages can has it set backs or a breaking point for the both of them.

Enjoy reading!/

Mention of: Harassment and someone being threatened

They just got back home and the first thing Natasha did was slap Krauser across the face. It was sudden for both of them. Krauser was surprised and Natasha was in shock by her action. It was a stinging pain on his cheek, nearly ringing in his ear. It was nothing to get angry about since a slap is nothing extreme. Krauser kept his calm and stood still while Natasha was making faces and her fingers twitching as she tried to figure out how to make sense in her current state of surprise and then a burst of anger.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking, Krauser?” She was yelling at him. “I could have handled it. You could have let me do it on my own.”

They were at a bar to enjoy a night out and because Natasha was getting tired of being in the house all the time and wanted a bit of excitement. She still cannot return to her hitman job or pick up a civilian job to pass the time and Krauser hasn’t been taking any mercenary jobs in order to continue caring for her. There were signs of improvement from her but he was still not taking any chances in case of any setbacks with her mind or her having one of her panic attacks. He had to admit, it was a tiring job but anything to keep her safe and he needed a change of fresh air to enjoy his time too.

Natasha got a chance to interact with other people from town, mainly with a group of women who were on a trip where she ended up on stage singing karaoke with them and joining them on the dancefloor. Krauser has gotten to keep his thoughts quiet over a couple pints of beer and a game of darts by himself, occasionally checking on Natasha. He can see the joy radiating on her face that has made his heart skip a beat to see how happy she’s experiencing. Maybe it was time to reduce his caretaking duty and slowly allow her a bit of freedom and some independence when he goes back to taking up contracts again soon. She’s a big girl, he told himself. She can handle things on her own.

“Mind if I ask a dance from you, cutie?”

“I’m sorry but I’m not interested.” Krauser turned to the sound of Natasha’s voice and saw a man wearing a vinyl jacket was hitting on her and had his hand cupping her chin so she could look at him. While Natasha looked uninterested, he can see her body language being uncomfortable by the lack of space closed between them. She caught Krauser looking at them, making her raise a hand to stop him from interfering. The man turned to who she was looking at and smirked.

“Your boyfriend, I’m guessing? I hope he doesn’t mind if I could borrow you for one dance only. One dance, that’s it.”

“And as I said, I am not interested. Back off or else I’ll make you kiss the floor.” She took a few steps back to get away from him but he pulled her back by the waist. “I’m counting to three to get your hands off me or else-”

“What? Slap me?” One of his hands snaked down and squeezed her ass. “I like to see you try.”

“Not her.” Krauser stood behind him, hand on the other man’s shoulder, looming over the shorter man. “Me.” He yanked the man away from Natasha with one strong tug, slamming him against the bar counter, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and pressed his knife against his neck. The length of Krauser’s knife and how sharp it was drained the colour away from his face.

“W-Whoa, calm down man.”

“Now you’re afraid for your life?” Krauser hissed. “Pathetic waste of air. You should have listened to her when you got the chance and not be in this position. Now, apologise to my wife. Properly.”

“Darling, take your knife away from him, now.” Natasha said firmly to Krauser. “He’s gonna die of a heart attack before he could utter a word.” She leaned closely to his ear. “We have people watching too. Put it away now.” She pulled away and smiled at the people who were watching them. “Sorry folks. It won’t happen again, I promise. Let it be a lesson if someone like him doesn’t listen.”

Krauser pulled his knife away and sheathed it back into his holster hidden underneath his shirt. “Apologise. Now.”

“I-I’m sorry, miss.” The man in the vinyl jacket stuttered. “I won’t trouble you again.”

“Now get out of here.” So the man did. Krauser fished out his wallet from his pants pocket, produced a crisp hundred dollar bill, and gave it to the bartender to pay for their drinks and to keep them silent about what happened and allow them back in for next time. The drive back home was silent with Krauser keeping his eyes on the road and Natasha having so many thoughts stewing in her head.

“Answer me, Krauser.” Natasha said, hands on her hips and almost gritting her teeth. She never grits her teeth unless she is this angry. “I was this close to headbutting that man in the nose and watching him squirm in pain. But no, you had to interfere and that could have nearly gotten us kicked out, or worse banned, from that place.”

Once she was finally done talking, Krauser took a small deep breath and exhaled. “He needed a hard lesson with an actual threat.”

“I have a knife in my boot! You gave me this knife for my protection!” Natasha pressed her palms together and brought it to her mouth to process her next line of thoughts. “Darling, you need to stop doing this. Being overprotective I mean. It was fine at first because I was recovering but as of lately, I’m starting to feel suffocated by it. I can’t even go outside to have a little walk by myself.”

“I’m not letting that-”

“Do not say his name in this house.” She stopped him. “He doesn’t know where we are. No one knows where we are.” Her hands were starting to shake again. “You need to stop, Krauser. I’m not a fragile doll anymore.”

“Natasha, you-”

“What?” She was yelling again. “Tell me to trust you? I am trusting you. I’ve basically put my full trust into your hands from the moment you told me you’ll take care of me when I woke up. Where’s your trust in me? Why can’t you trust me anymore?”

“Because I can’t lose you again!” He snapped back at her. “I dreaded those days when I was in bed alone, wondering if you could make it and retain your memories of me! Of us! The thought of that man who put his hands on you will do something worse than kissing you!” He grabbed her arms and shook her. “When you made me promise to kill you if you went down that path again and I didn’t do it because killing you will be basically killing me!”

The woman stared at him with shock, her lips parted with her bottom lip quivering. “You’re…You’re hurting me, Jack…” She could feel her arms getting cold from the blood restriction Krauser is accidentally doing when he grabbed her. Krauser pulled his hands away and saw the marks he left behind on her.

“Shit, dollface, I’m-”

“I’m going out for a walk.” Natasha halted him from apologising. “I need to clear my head. No, don’t follow me please.” She quickly added, knowing he would join her without a beat. “You need to clear your head too. Actually, you need your own alone time. Trust me for once like before, Jack. Please.”

He really wanted to protest against her going out alone, especially when they just came back home from the bar and she had a few drinks. Then again, he had a few pints and he was the one who drove them home under the influence. Shit, he could have gotten them hurt if he wasn’t careful.

“One hour.” He said, raising a finger at her. “Then you come straight back home.”

“I will.” She said and made her way to the door. “One hour.” Without looking back or saying ‘I love you’ to him, she left the house and took her walk. Krauser, without a second thought if she was far away or not to hear him, punched a hole into the wall and let out a scream. He had fucked it up. That one moment where he could have allowed Natasha to fight her own fights and he stepped in like her usual knight in a tactical vest and brandished his large knife at her harasser. It’s been five months but it felt like years after the event.

Krauser took a look at himself in the mirror by the front door. It was tempting to break the mirror and cut his own knuckles by the shards while at the same time thinking of her sadness and disappointment because she liked the design of the mirror. More importantly, she’ll be afraid of him if he allows his emotions to get out of control. What would happen if he hurts her again as he did moments ago? Maybe she is right, he does need some alone time for himself and clear his head.

He spent the whole hour sweating and building up his muscles again. Fifteen minutes each has been spent on archery practice, knife training, and working out his upper body and his legs. By the time he was done, he noticed that it was raining when he got back inside. Heavily, he noted before looking at the clock.

One hour is up and by now Natasha should be back from her walk if she kept track of time. Then again, if it had been raining the whole time she’d been out, she would have come home earlier on while he was working out. Something is not right.

The old familiar fear was kicking in again. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be happening. Not again. Natasha has said no one knows where they are living currently, not even Nikki or her organisation. But what if…?

His phone started ringing. They've changed numbers and they have very little contact with other people but a few shops that offer home delivery. As he looked at the caller ID, his shoulders relaxed and his heart was slowly returning to its normal pace. It was Natasha.

“Jackie…Can you pick me up, please?” Her voice was too soft to hear over the sound of heavy rain in the background and on the line. It also sounded like she had been crying from the soft shudders she made and when she was trying to compose herself. “I can’t get home because of the rain. I’m at a bus stop taking shelter.”

“I’m on my way, angel.” He said, swearing he heard her speaking to someone before she ended the call. Krauser brought towels, an umbrella, and a bit of spare clothes for her, grabbed his keys from the hook, and jumped into his Jeep. Natasha mentioned the bus stop and other than the one in town, which was deemed too far to get there by foot, he knew where she was.

Natasha was found shivering at the old bus stop with a few of the windows gone or broken, allowing the heavy raindrops to splash inside, the old bus sign broken and laying on the wet ground, and old graffitied chairs. The sight of her appearance shocked Krauser as soon as he stepped out with the umbrella. It looked like she had fallen in a muddy ground, the hems of her pants ripped, her arms covered in scratches and blood, part of her hair was crudely cut, probably by a knife, and she was hugging her jacket against her chest rather than wearing it. Upon closer look, her eye was red, her wet hair plastered to her face, and she looked relieved to see Krauser.

“I’m sorry…” She started it off as he started to examine her appearance while she held back a sob. The marks on her arms were still visible, internally scolding himself, as he was careful when running his fingers against her skin. “I’m sorry for slapping you. I’m sorry for getting angry with you. I just-” She was cut off by his large form hugging her, not caring if the mud and rain ruined his clothes. He was warm, gentle, smelled of sweat, and relieved to have her safe. She almost shed more tears when he asked her, “Are you okay?”

Natasha decided to show Krauser why she wasn’t wearing her jacket. Bundled up inside was a kitten no more than eight months old. They have the prettiest blue and brown eyes, the cutest pink nose in contrast to their off white dirty fur and scrawny appearance. “Would you say I was stupid for cutting a chunk of my hair out of frustration and then deciding to chase after this cute little fellow into the woods when it started to rain? I tried to find her mother too and eventually I slipped and fell into a ditch with her. I had to save the kitten and the phone in my jacket first before I could climb up. It was so slippery but I did it.” She waited for him to say something, anything, after she was done talking. Instead, she got a kiss on her dirty forehead.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Krauser told her, sighing softly. “I’m sorry too.” It was a rarity to hear him apologise and often he was not good with words, but after today, her heart was beating faster. “I should have trusted you back at the bar. I was afraid, after what happened, anything could happen without warning, such as this.” He rubbed his palm against her cheek to clean off the mud since the towels are still in the car. “Do you remember what I said in that room? That room.”

“Loud and clear.” She nodded her head. “It’ll forever be ingrained in my memory and I shall not forget those words. Krauser, I think we should really discuss the matters of our trust and allow me to handle myself again.”

“Soon sweetheart. Right now, let’s get you home and clean up. You’ll catch a cold from being out here long enough.” He glanced at the kitten. “She can stay for the night.”

“I think Iris will be a lovely addition to the house.” She countered back as they walked back to the Jeep, cooing softly at her. “She’ll make a lovely companion for me when you’re out.” “I’ll say a dog is better.” He said when he opened the passenger door for her, setting a towel on the chair before she entered. “He’ll guard the house and you when I’m away.” “Aren't the traps enough, darling?”

“Nope. Trust me.”

“You know I do.”

#Jack Krauser #Dullahan #Krauser/Dullahan #Hatter's writing #The Lost Swan #Jack Krauser X OC #Krauser X OC #Resident Evil Krauser

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t4t-lumpygrab · 2 years

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Fanfic Request!

Request: Lemongrab and Treetrunks bonding :) Word count: 1.6K

Woo! Sorry that it took a while to get to this one! Hope you like it.

🍋

Normally someone banging on the door meant that the police were trying to pin something on her again, or that Mr Pig had forgotten his keys and really really badly needed to use the bathroom. Very rarely did it mean opening the red door and seeing a huge yellow creature staring down at her unblinkingly.

Treetrunks took a step back, noticing the prominent scarring across his face and two twiddling hands, and how one of the eyes staring down at her was a slightly different oval shape than the other. When he smiled the left side of his mouth was missing multiple sharp, pointed teeth. “Hellooo little elephant…”

“Golly! The new Lemongrab is awfully bold!” she thought to herself. She hoped he wouldn’t try to force his way in, based on her memory of the last lemongrab that seemed like something he might do. “Can I ask what you’re doing here?” She asked politely.

“I want you toooo tell me about my predecessor.” he said quietly.

“Well I only met him once. What do you want to know?”

“He said something rude to you, but I cannot remember what… And so I cannot apologise.”

Treetrunks was surprised. The new Lemongrab is awfully polite. She decided he must take after the second one more. “He called me a servile.” she stated.

Lemongrab frowned. “I am sorry.”

“And then he called me a slave.”

“I apologise dearly.” Lemongrab shifted uncomfortably in the doorway from foot to foot and then turned away. “Bye.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “I came tooo atone for my past life’s mistakes, now I shall take my lemon leave.”

Treetrunks frowned at him and whisked her tail from side to side. “You call that atoning?” The new Lemongrab is awfully noncommittal, she thought.

“I… have apologised?” Lemongrab seemed confused.

“You- or he, or however it works,” Lemongrab shrugged. It seemed he wasn’t sure what to think about it all either- “hurt my feelings! But even though you hurt my feelings I still cooked a pie for you. Now you need to do something for me, mister.”

Treetrunks went back inside and Lemongrab followed her curiously into the kitchen. He hurriedly sat down at the table and took a deep breath to steady himself. Treetrunks had been making pie batter, and the red table had been dusted with clouds of flour. Lemongrab drew a self portrait of himself in the flour residue and then rubbed it out with his sleeve while he waited for Treetrunks to assign him a task. “I help you… and then I will have atoned for my misdeed?”

Treetrunks had resumed kneading the batter with her stubby front legs. “You can start by picking my apples in the orchard.”

Lemongrab stood up, bowed to her and went outside into the apple tree grove. He picked one, single apple off a nearby tree and placed it on the table. “I have produced an apple for yoouu!”

Treetrunks glanced at him standing in her kitchen, looking proud of himself. “Now go and do the rest of them.”

Lemongrab picked around 10 apples this way- doing each one individually and piling them up in a pyramid shape on the table.

The new Lemongrab is very methodical. “That’s enough dearie.”

Lemongrab sat down obediently next to his large apple sculpture and waited, expectantly, for another task. Now that she’d gotten used to him the scarring didn’t bother her as much anymore. Lemongrab idly tapped his fingers on the table the same way Sweet Pea did while he sat and waited, watching her rolling out the batter with curiosity.

“You can start dicing the apples now.” She passed him a knife and then froze immediately after. A knife! He’d attacked the Ice King the moment he wasn’t useful to him anymore when they’d been trapped in the dungeon, and he’d done all those awful things to his own brother and children. And she’d just handed him a knife!

Lemongrab didn’t seem to notice her reaction and was unskillfully hacking at the apples. It was clear he’d never chopped food before. The sight of him frowning down at a nicked piece of fruit, not having cut a single slice off it, was so ridiculous she stopped being scared of him. “You’re supposed to do it like this dear-”

Lemongrab watched her cut an apple and clumsily tried to copy her. She began to worry that he might cut himself accidentally, but Lemongrab dissected the apple successfully. He picked another apple off the pyramid and began to cut it, glancing up at her occasionally. Whenever she looked over at him from where she was preparing the filling with the diced fruit he’d prepared, he looked embarrassed and averted his wide eyes.

“You may as well spit it out.” She said eventually.

Lemongrab stopped cutting and blurted out. “You are married.”

“Yes?”

“So… How do yoouu know if… you are in love?”

Treetrunks looked up at him in surprise. It was the first time she’d seen Lemongrab look embarrassed about anything. “You probably aren’t if you have to ask.” she replied.

“Oh.” Lemongrab seemed disappointed. “But… hmm…”

“So who is it?”

Lemongrab’s eyes widened. “None of your business!”

“You brought it up.”

Lemongrab shrugged and went back to cutting the fruits but he seemed distracted, and Treetrunks was very curious about him all of a sudden. “The new Lemongrab is obviously much more complicated than I thought…” she said to herself.

“But I guess at the end of the day only you can decide if you’re in love or not. Everyone is different. We’re all like apples and oranges, or however the saying goes.”

Lemongrab made a hmm noise and tapped his fingers together as he reflected on this. “I do not know myyyy own feelings…” he said eventually, “I care… and I am happy when we are together… But what if I am merelyyy tricking myself and, and I just want to believe that I am capable of loving someone, but in reality I feel nothing. And if I look into my lemon heart-” He made a lemon shape over his chest with his fingers, “-I shall find naught but emptiness.”

“Lemongrab of course you can feel love.” Treetrunks said sadly. Poor thing. She supposed it made sense, though, she’d been so quick to judge him that she hadn’t really considered how he must feel having survived what he did. Or not survived it- he did die, didn’t he? She was still confused about how candy people worked. But it must be even more confusing to have to deal with those unanswered questions every single day of your life, especially with no more siblings to turn to. Lemongrab was completely alone now.

Lemongrab seemed unconvinced at her words. “Hm. Debateable. I can only be stable if I am alone.”

“It’s true that being with other people can be scary and sometimes you might get hurt, but it can be a lot of fun too.”

“Nyes...” The corner of Lemongrab’s mouth twitched upwards into a smile before he suppressed it.

“So who’s your sweetheart?” She asked again, feeling nosy.

Lemongrab got embarrassed again and she realised he was pretty terrible at hiding his feelings for someone who claimed to not have any. “It iiis not like that. Ngh! No! We just hang out sometimes and call each other.” he said quickly. “We are simplyyy… political allies.”

“If you’re just political allies why don’t you tell me who it is?”

“That is none of your business.” Lemongrab said coldly and then suddenly he realised something and asked; “Treetrunks are you my political ally?”

“What?” she was caught off guard by the question.

“Are you?”

“I guess not. I’m not a politician.” Lemongrab seemed disappointed by her response. Political ally seemed to have a deeper meaning for him. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

“Friends scare me. No rules. Strange… unpredictable. I had a friend once, then he ate me.”

“Lemongrab it doesn’t have to be like that. I’m not gonna eat you. I’m way too tiny for that.”

“Hmm…” He looked like he was considering her offer. “Friendship…” he said it like a foreign word. Treetrunks realised she’d never thought about whether Lemongrab had many friends, if any. All of a sudden she had a mental image of him sitting alone in his castle for days on end and she suddenly felt very sorry for him.

“We will have too write up an agreement for it.” He said eventually.

“Or you could just finish helping me with this pie and come visit every now and then.”

“No… rules? No- no procedures? I do not even need tooo show you my passport?”

“Lemongrab did you bring your passport?”

“Of course.” Lemongrab fished his passport out and showed it to her. “Please excuse my unflattering photograph.”

She pushed it away.

“Lemongrab: when you’re friends with someone it means you like each other and enjoy spending time together. It’s when you feel… relaxed and like you can be your goshdarn self with somebody. There’s no need for all this hullabaloo about passports and passwhats, you just do whatever feels right. And if that doesn’t go math you say sorry and do something else.”

Lemongrab was still clinging onto his passport. He thought about her words carefully for a moment and they replied slowly; “And theeeese are the rules… of being friends?”

“They’re more like guidelines, but if it helps you can think of them as rules.”

“I see. Yes. Yes I would like to beeee friends.” Lemongrab smiled, showing the tips of his sharp, fanged teeth but this time it didn’t frighten her.

“And Lemongrab-”

“Hm?”

“Being in love is like that too. No rules just guidelines.”

Lemongrab raised his passport to cover his face and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Lemongrab seems like a nice boy.” Treetrunks thought.

#adventure time #lemongrab #my writing #fanfiction #Fanfic Requests #treetrunks #and also. implied lumpygrab I'm sorry my hand slipped and also I've been thinking about how Lemongrab conceptualises relationships recently

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mangy-writes · 2 years

Text

A Wheel of Time

Chapter Five.

I manage to convince Nynaeve to stay with me and we share a bedroll that night after I run Stepin off. He gives me a sympathetic look but otherwise says nothing and I stay up for a long time after Nynaeve goes to bed. The next morning Nynaeve and I both ignore Lan to the point of it being downright comical. Kiruna Sedai must have been relieved during the night and is giggling with one of her Warders behind her hand, he looks equally amused. She all but bounces over to us, “So, what did Moiraine’s Gaidin do to anger your wisdom?” she asks, laughter still colouring her voice. “Not a clue, don’t care either, until he apologises he best stay away from me,” I reply, anger lacing my tone. “Well alright then,” she mutters, amused. We all mount and Nynaeve and I ride in relative silence as the Aes Sedai around us question Kiruna. Stepin rides up to us but says nothing and for hours we are like that, “So, I found out what Lan said,” he starts conversationally. “I don’t care,” I tell him coolly. “You should…” he mutters softly. “Something, something honour, something something widow’s white,” I answer, surprising him. “He's a borderlander, it narrowed down what he said by a landslide,” I explain. Nynaeve hisses softly from her spot besides me and I nudge her softly. “Wool-brained idiot,” she whispers. “Most men are,” I reply, making her smile at me.

…

We are sitting around the Warders fire but tonight I have wacked at any of them who tried to cook, instead taking the duty on to myself. Chopping meat and vegetables, all dehydrated, with a surety, hardly looking at the knife I scrape them into the pot before stirring again. Stepin comes up to the fire then and the grey haired Warder, whose name I don’t know, immediately begins complaining. “Damned woman won’t let any of us cook!” he tells him. “So? You can’t cook anyhow. Only decent cook we have is Maksim,” Stepin replies, depositing himself on the ground next to Ivhon. I grab a clean mug and pour him something before handing it over. He grins and nods his head once. I go back to cooking, picking up one of the toasting flat breads I had made by my fingers and half the Warders lunge to stop me. I look at them concerned as I flip them over with a pinch between my thumb and forefinger. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Stepin asks. “No? Have you never turned a bread before?” I ask, Nynaeve snorts. “She burned the tip of her thumb,” she tells them. “I di-” I stop when she gives me a look. I shrug and go back to cooking, moving quietly and sure of myself. Thirty minutes later some of the Aes Sedai come over to investigate as I quietly begin making bowls. I pass one to Kerene and then one to Moiraine as well. Lan chuckles at that and Moiraine scowls at him but neither says anything. I finally fix myself a bowl after I am certain no one wants anything at that moment. “You are an excellent cook,” Kerene compliments. “Thanks,” I reply softly, not looking up. Later that night everything is quiet as I sit on my knees, eyes closed, trying to calm my body enough for the world to stop spinning. I wind up doubled over not far from my bedroll heaving, my braid getting in the way. I groan and lean back, breathing through my mouth as another wave a dizziness washes over me. I feel someone rubbing my back and a wet washcloth is pressed into hand. “Careful, do not move too much,” Kerene warns softly, “It’ll pass in a few moments,” she advises. I nod slightly but even that proves too much and I am doubled over again. Kerene carefully moves my braid aside and stays by me the entire night as I either throw up in between her trying to get water into me or I sway sitting down. She leaves momentarily when the sun starts coming up and comes back a moment later. “I do believe you said something about soap?” she asks. “Yes,” I reply softly. “Alright, come on,” she tells me, offering her hand. I take it and immediately stagger Kerene wraps an arm around my waist and shoulders some of weight before helping me to a small bend in a river we are camped near. “I cannot channel the water hot, but you can get some of that out of your hair. Just sit here and I’ll come back with a change of clothes for you,” she tells me. I have no choice but to nod weakly and grab onto the rock she has set me on before I fall off the other side. She comes back as promised and helps me out of my clothes, I try to protest but she just looks at me. “I am two hundred and five years old, there isn’t much I haven’t seen,” she tells me drily. I still try to weakly stop her and she sighs. “I- I look nice from my shoulders up, but from the shoulders down not so much,” I mutter. I have always been self conscious about the way I look. She comes to stand in front of me and looks me in the eyes. “Child, if you let something like that get to you it is the only thing people will see. Chin up, back straight, shoulders back. You are a lovely girl inside and out,” she tells me. I let it be after that and after I am undressed she strips down to her slip, for which I am grateful, before helping me wade out into the river where a rock sits not three feet from the shore line, though the river gets fairly deep fairly quickly. “Wash yourself and I’ll manage your hair,” she tells me. “Thank you,” I whisper. “Of course,” she replies.

Not fifteen minutes later some of the other Aes Sedai start coming into the small clearing by the river and Kiruna grins. “Finally took her out?” she asks. “Nauseous for most of the night and can hardly stand right now,” Kerene replies. “Poor dear, sick in her hair?” Kiruna asks. “Mhm, all in these bells too, thank the Creator one of my first Warders was Arafellin or I’d be lost,” Kerene replies. I blush and mumble, “I’m right here.” Kerene laughs and continues to try and untangle my hair, channelling briefly to wet my hair repeatedly before taking a comb to it again. I feel her brushing the soap through my hair and I realise she is an exceptionally thorough person. She rinses my hair out again and passes the comb through it as I finish washing myself. She hauls me closer to the shore and she finally manages to get all the knots out of my hair she soaps it again, apparently understanding the trials of having long hair that gets in the way. “What are you doing? You can’t undo her braid!” Nynaeve demands, outraged. “Naeve I can hardly stand on my own, she is helping me,” I reply, turning my head to look at her, which is decidedly the wrong thing to do and Kerene has to quickly catch me. “What did you do to her?” Nynaeve demands. “I didn’t do anything, it’s called channelling sickness. It’s when a channeler who has no training grabs the Source,” Kerene explains, “Sometimes it is extreme nausea, or dizziness, fever, chills, it depends. Cordelia spent half the night propped up against me throwing up,” she adds, just a touch protectively, and it confuses me. “Hold still, I have to rinse this soap out,” she tells me. I listen and she helps me out of the water wrapping a towel she must’ve procured from their tent around me and starts combing my hair again this time using a weave of air to help dry it. “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper, noticing Nynaeve begrudgingly starting to bathe. “The last thing you need is to catch a chill, and this is a welcome change compared to shielding a mad man,” she replies.

She allows me to dress myself and Kiruna is the one helping me back to my bedroll, which is a mess, she tsks and channels briefly before helping me roll it up and gathering the rest of my things. “We will be in Tar Valon in about a week and a half,” she tells me. “Okay?” I ask. “You’ll have to enrol as a novice,” she tells me. “Oh, of course, if it’ll help with this,” I reply. She smiles softly, “It will eventually,” she promises. “Eventually,” I mutter spitefully. She laughs and the rest of the camp is a blur after that. My head is still spinning for a moment but I insist on riding my own horse.

…

I am exhausted by the end of the day and that damned dizziness hasn’t left me yet. I stumble once dismounting but otherwise stay upright and brush off Stepin when he offers me help. I fall asleep easy that night.

…

“When will she wake up? It’s been a day!” the Wisdom demands. “When the sickness has ran its course, she’ll wake up,” I reply easily. She growls and rides ahead of me, back to where my Warder is holding the poor girl up.

…

I wake up slowly, groaning, before realising I am on horseback, in front of a decidedly male rider and I jerk, hard. “Hey ande easy, easy, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Stepin whispers, rubbing one of my forearms. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask as he passes me a waterskin. “Three days,” he whispers. “What?” I mumble, confused, then it hits. “Three days? Three whole days!?” I exclaim. “Yes, ande, three days,” he replies, sounding particularly amused. “This isn’t funny!” I exclaim. “Where is my horse?” I ask suddenly. “Tied to my saddle,” he tells me, bringing my attention to his left side. I click my tongue once and Daes Bhadi wickers, nuzzling my thigh. “Hey girl, I’m okay,” I whisper softly. She wickers again and I continue to stroke her nose as we ride.

…

I dismount and grimace as the world spins, Stepin is right beside me in an instant. “I’m good, just need to get used to my legs again I suppose,” I tell him and he backs off. I use one of my spears as a walking stick and set up in the Green Tent, something I haven’t done since I ran. Then I manage to procure a wash basin and the Aes Sedai incharge of the supplies, a Red, tells me we are still following the river. I thank her softly and walk off in the direction she pointed me in and start washing my clothes so that I can have a clean change to switch into. I hear someone coming up behind me but I continue to scrub out a particularly stubborn stain, the rest of my clothes hanging on a bare tree to dry. “That is not going to dry quickly,” Moiraine tells me. “I plan to wash up while I wait, they aren’t that wet anyway, I’ve gotten good at wringing clothes out over the years,” I reply. “Your mother isn’t particularly skilled at home making?” she asks. “Yes and no, no good with laundry or cooking, but is skilled at gardening,” I reply. I feel her channel then and my clothes dry instantly. “I really wish you women would stop doing things for me, I am appreciative but it makes me uncomfortable. I am able to do things on my own,” I tell her, beating out my skirt and smoothing it out over a branch before taking down the dry clothes and folding them back up and putting them into the saddlebag, leaving out a change for after bathing. I toss the dirty water in the basin and then catch fresh water before moving off to the side and behind the skirt I had hung up to give myself some privacy. I hear a quiet ‘Don’t.’ but I ignore them and dress after managing to not cave and just go into the flaming river in order to bathe.

I check the skirt to see if it is dry and instead decide to comb through my hair and apply lotion to my hands and feet before pulling back on my stockings. I come out from behind my makeshift privacy screen to Kerene waiting patiently. “What?” I ask her, unsure of why she is looking at me as I tighten my corset, the skirt blouse combo I wear means that the corset is more of a vest than anything else. “We are making you uncomfortable?” she questions. “Well… no, but you treat me as if you are waiting for something, you and Moiraine both do, and it is annoying at times. Like, when I couldn’t stand up straight let alone care for myself I was very grateful you helped me,” I reply, once again self conscious. She nods slowly, thinking, “Do you want to know why we are trying to help you or would you prefer us to leave you be until you ask for help? Because, from what my Warder has told me, you won’t ask for help, because you have been ridiculed for it before,” she asks. I look up at her suddenly, confused as to where this conversation is going. “I- you were looking for something in the Two Rivers?” I ask, it’s a yes or no question, or at least I hope it is. She glances around once and then channels some sort of barrier around us. “Yes,” she replies carefully, keeping her voice soft. “Am I what you were looking for?” I ask, she shrugs. “I don’t know yet, but I think so,” she replies, “But it is up to you what you do.”

I nod, thinking everything over, “I don’t mind it when you try to help me, but the rest make me uncomfortable,” I tell her softly. “I appreciate everyone trying to help, and I am aware that it is mostly because of my helping you and then Kiruna Sedai, and then the sickness thing, but it really is uncomfortable,” I continue, thinking what she has told me over and still not coming to a conclusion. She smiles, nods once, and then gets up, channelling briefly before leaving. I check the damn skirt and toss a rock at her retreating form before folding the damn thing and heading back to camp. I stop though when I see Stepin leaning against a tree not far from the river. “Were you watching me bathe?” I ask, not quite outraged, mostly confused as I com over to him and notice that he is actually within sight of the river. “Not quite, just making sure you’re still steady on your feet. Wanted to be close by in case you fell in,” he tells me. I look up at him and there is this look in his eyes that makes me stop breathing. He cups my cheek tenderly and the next thing I know, I am pressed against a tree, not that I exactly mind. He kisses me full on the mouth and I grip his forearms, rising to my toes to properly kiss him back. After a few moments we separate, both breathing heavy and I blush. “I am sorry I should not have done that,” he mumbles, not looking at me. “It’s alright, I kissed you back,” I reply, still blushing. He looks at me finally and I look away, not able to meet his eyes and he steps up to me again and lifts my chin. I look up at him and he bends down to kiss me again before sweeping down and picking up the bag I have my clothes in and guiding me back to camp.

…

Kerene’s weave goes ice cold as she stiffens and it draws both mine and Kiruna’s attention. “Sister?” I ask hesitantly, unsure of what is going on. “I’m fine,” she replies quickly, though she looks uncomfortable. “Oh blessed Creator!” Kiruna gasps, giggling. “Do you know who?” she asks. “I’d bet my stipend it is Cordelia,” Kerene replies softly and it clicks. “Light bless!” I grumble. “Tell me you keep heartleaf, I doubt she does,” I ask her. “Of course not, why would I?” she asks, then it dawns on her, “Shite,” she whispers. “I do, don’t worry,” Kiruna reassures her. “No, no, they haven’t- it was just unexpected. I didn’t know he felt that way about her,” she mumbles, now deep in thought.

…

“You flippant whore,” Nynaeve growls behind me and I stop mid step and turn. “What?” I ask, turning around. “You fucked Stepin!” Nynaeve accuses and the camp goes silent. “I did not,” I tell her, not even allowing her to respond I stalk off towards the Green tent and I don’t move from my bedroll until I see Kerene pass me. I enter into the little alcove set up for her and wait until she notices me. “Yes?” she asks. “I want to apologise, from what little I know of Aes Sedai, especially the Green Ajah, they don’t like other women uh-” I stop the moment she cuts me off. “Stepin and I are not intimate, or at least we haven’t been in a while. I have a… partner and Stepin is free to see whoever he wishes. But you should know he will not drop his duty to me for you,” she warns. “No, I know that! I am not going to steal your Warder. And uh- if possible I am going to try to distance myself from him, I don’t wish to put him in an awkward spot and I don’t like how attached I am becoming to him,” I reply. She seems to disagree but says nothing and after a short moment of silence I leave her alone.

End Notes: Yay! A new Chapter after a forever amount of writer's block!

#bun writes #a wheel of time

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themadhalewrites · 2 years

Text

Blind Date

Fandom: Marvel

Character/s Includes: Bucky Barnes and Reader

Word Count: 819

Bucky didn’t know what to expect when arriving at a fancy restaurant that Natasha and Steve told him to go to without any real reason or expectation then that he had to just say “Rogers” to the hostess.

On the way to the table, Bucky couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down her tightly fitted top to the black skirt with a slit that reaches halfway up her thigh showing her light skin.

Arriving at the table Bucky had to forcefully advert his eyes to you but seeing the angry in your eyes he looked for every possible escape but the slap came before he could run.

“That’s for looking at her arse all the way to the table,” you said before kissing his cheek where you had slapped, “That’s to apologise for doing the exact same thing when I arrived.”

That made Bucky smile, you both had wandering eyes but he was going to make sure that he kept his eyes on you for the rest of the night.

Sitting down you both talked about how you knew your mutual friends, you had learned that Bucky and Steve had been in the army together while Bucky learnt that Steve and Nat were your trainers at the guy you often went to when you weren’t bogged down with work and school.

“What are you at university for?” Bucky asked trying to be into the conversation.

“Nursing I guess.” You said confused.

“Don’t enjoy it?”

“I sometimes do but the needles are scary and we are at that stage of course work.”

“A nurse with a fear of needles, I wouldn’t trust anyone with a needle let alone someone who is also afraid of them.”

“See that’s what worries me, people not wanting a person who is afraid of needles working in a hospital.”

“You could go into another course.”

“Not with the money I have, it’s either nursing or nothing.”

“We will both find our place in the world at some point.”

“Are you unemployed?”

“Yeah, no one will here an ex-serviceman with severe PTSD.”

“I would,” You said smiling.

You picked up your menu to hide the blush that was spreading across your cheeks. Looking over the menu you picked out your favourite dish that was on the menu before looking at the wine list. As the waiter arrived at your table Bucky let you order your food before ordering his own and a bottle of white wine.

“I don’t drink white wine, I only drink red.” You said pointedly.

“Well I only drink white” Bucky responded just as pointedly.

“Lady’s choice?” You smiled crookedly.

Bucky sighed, “A bottle of red wine as well please.”

Bucky turned to you and smiled brightly which resulted in you ducking your head away from his gaze.

Throughout the night Bucky had learnt all about you from your parents to how many siblings you had.

“Well my parents split soon after my youngest sister was born, I was 13 at the time and being the oldest and only boy I took up the male role before taking up a parenting role once my mum got rather sick.”

You nodded but Bucky could see your eyes were focusing on something behind him.

“Anything interesting back there?” Bucky asked and smiled when you nodded.

“The hostess’ boobs,” You responded before giggling, “such a tight top they could fall out.”

Bucky laughed before looking and nodded, “Good set as well even though they are fake.”

“They’re fake?” You asked confused.

“Yep fake, probably had it done just out of high school as well poor girl she was probably good looking before the surgery.”

“I think she would have been as well, everything else about her is nice, good sized ass and a good looking face but not a woman I would want to share my man with.”

“Wouldn’t want her,” Bucky said looking back at you.

At that moment the waiter came out with your food and smiled softly placing your food down before walking away.

“He was checking you out Y/n,” Bucky said picking up his knife and fork.

“Not my type plus he’s doing the hostess.” You said making Bucky look between the waiter and hostess.

Bucky looked back at you, “You’re right.”

You smiled and started eating but while you both were eating you would talk about the men and women in the restaurant. Some of the women Bucky liked you didn’t but there was the rare one where you both liked them and pointed out everything that was awesome about them.

After eating you both spilt the check before walking out of the restaurant but before he could walk away you grabbed his hand.

“We can go back to mine, I have wine and have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

“Are you trying to get me in your bed?” Bucky said cocking an eyebrow.

“Of bloody course, have you seen yourself.”

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iwadori · 3 years

Text

When they neglect you for another girl Part 4 (Sakusa)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Word Count: 2.6K

Genre: Angst to Fluff

masterlist

AN: YES I DID PUT MYSELF IN THIS STORY! SUE ME. This is basically inspired by a random conversation i had w the great @teesumu, so this is basically for you doll <3

Sakusa:

You and Sakusa have been together for a around 10 years and love eachother immensly.

However recently Sakusa has been busy and you havent really had much time together lately as he claims been busy doing loads of visits with his new agent.

But of course, being the loving partner you are you wanted to revive the spark in your relationship.

You have been seeing a lot of people on social media posting their aesthetic ‘picnic dates,’ and you knew that this was something that appealed to you before it was ‘on trend.’ Kiyoomi immediately came to your mind once you had the idea of going on a date. You knew that you haven’t be around each other lately, as Kiyoomi always had either a ‘meeting’ or some sort of ‘interview’ that his new agent “Empress” has set up for him.

You didn’t really know Empress that well, just that she was ‘good at her job,’ a ‘hard and dilligent worker,’ and a ‘raging hottie’ with Atsumu’s opinion being the last one. You weren’t suspecting her to have any malicious intent towards you or Kiyoomi, since you knew that he had a great judge of character. But it was just odd, that every time Kiyoomi was running late or having ‘super-secret’ conversations on the phone it was always because ‘my agent set up this,’ ‘my agent set up that,’ and that’s what left you a bit wary.

As you were scrolling through your phone you see a calendar updating saying : Next Week‘ A DECADE AGO WE FELL IN LOVE.’

10 years. How could you forget? You and Omi have literally been together for a decade. You think back to the decade of madness and love you’ve been through together, smiling fondly to yourself but then you think about where you are now... barely even talking to each other, only mainly seeing him when he comes home from work.

You need to fix this. Or at least make an attempt to get you and Kiyoomi talking again. So, the only thing you can do, is plan that picnic.

You spent the rest of the day planning your anniversary picnic. ’It’s going to be great,’ you think to yourself, you have a list of all Omi’s favorite foods you're going to make him and bring and you are probably going to pick up a few board games and maybe even get some paint supplies. You and Kiyoomi used to paint a lot together, with the two of you not being the best of painters, but you enjoyed eachothers company non the less.

Everything was sorted...for the most part. All you needed to do was get Omi there, and it’ll all be okay. Right? As you were bubbling and looking for more picnic inspo, you hear your front door open which made you even more excited to tell your boyfriend your plans.

As you rush to go greet him, you see he’s on the phone making you roll your eyes. “No Empress it won’t work, we need this sorted by next week. Okay? Next week.” he says in an agitated way. He hangs up the phone and sighs, shoving off his duffel bag.

“Hey Omi, how was your day?” you say a bit hesitant, noticing his annoyed mood.

“Fine” He said dismissively, aiming to walk past you aiming for your bedroom.

“Oh well I have something amazing planned for ne-” you try to say following after him.

“Can we not do this right now Y/N,” he says again turning too look at you making you frown a bit, all you wanted to do is surprise him with your plans and have a day out with him. After noticing your sad look he finishes with “it’s just that Empress she’s bee-”

“I don’t want to hear about her.” you say bitterly folding your arms, Empress is the last person you want to hear about right now “God Omi can’t you just care about me? For once.”

“I do I-”

“You don’t anymore,” you say, with all the emotions and feelings you’ve been just supressing from a while coming up. You don’t even know how you got from point A to B with this conversation, but there's no stopping now. “I feel that, for a while now we haven’t been how we were before when we were just Y/N and Kiyoomi. Instead of how we are now. Just Y/N. Then Kiyoomi and Empress.”

After hearing his agents name, Kiyoomi’s name contorts to confusion “Empress? What does she have to do with anything?”

“How can you not see? For the past month all it’s been is ‘Empress this’ ‘Empress that,’” you complain “Having your super secret conversations with her, like god Kiyoomi can’t you see a problem with this?”

“It’s not like that Y/N, we’re just work partners” he says looking a bit annoyed “Just business.”

“Just business? So Kiyoomi, what were you talking about on the phone earlier” you say with your voice slight accusingly.

“Umm I, I can’t really say?” he says more of a question then a fully assured statement. You squint your eyes at him and scoff.

“What is going on with you Omi?” you say “are you cheating on me with her is that it?”

“No, no of course not Y/N! How could you even ask that?” he frowned at your question making your chest hurt, since deep down you knew he could never do that to you. Could he?

“Well tell me then, what were you talking about?” you ask again.

“I can’t say..” he finishes

“Well I can’t stay.” you say and his face goes back to confusion “Here. With you.”

“What do you mean Y/-”

“I need a break or something. I just can’t be here right now.” You start to rush and pack a big of things whilst Kiyoomi just stands there.

After you pack up your stuff, you look back and see Kiyoomi just there. Standing. You were upset, you kind of wanted him to rush after you and beg you not to leave, but he was just there. Standing. So you put the hand on the door and just before you leave you turn back and say “bye Sakusa, see you later?” to which you see him slightly nod at.

When the door shut, Kiyoomi starts to cry. After hearing you call him by his last name really twisted the knife that was already in his heart. You haven’t called him that since you were like 15. He knew what you wanted; he knew you wanted him to rush towards you and beg you not to leave, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. But what he could do is call the one person he only could call.

After a few rings, he hears “What do you need Saku?”

“She’s gone, she left.”

“What do you mean she’s gone, did you tell her?”

“No I didn’t tell her. And that’s the problem, Empress she think-”

“Saku, don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?”

“Don’t I always?”

He couldn’t argue with that, he just had to trust that Empress could sort it. “And also, don’t spend the week with your head up your ass crying, you’ve got a lot of grovelling to do kiddo.”

He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, as he knew that what just went down needed to be resolved, fast.

Meanwhile, on your end. You’re a mess. Sobbing all the time, tissues are your best friend, you’ve been waiting just waiting for a message or a call, or some form of communication. You just wanted to feel wanted by your boyfriend (can you even call him that now.)

You spent the rest of the week at your parents, immersing yourself in your work and doing ‘self care’ things, trying to forget all about the argument you and Kiyoomi had.

One day, you receive a letter, it wasn’t delivered by a mail man though. It was slid under your door, in a golden envelope sealed with a red hot wax seal. It read:

‘Dear Y/N,

My sweetheart, im sorry for how the week has been and I know a letter with only a fraction of how I feel won’t make up for how I acted that day. But im inviting you to join me at the Gardenia Botanical Gardens at 2 pm tommorow, to celebrate our 10 year anniversary.

I know there is a big chance, you may not want to see me and I understand but please. I love you, so so much, that words can’t even describe. But I need you to see me apologise and I need to make it up to you.

I hope to see you there, I’d wait the whole day for you. If you don’t show, I understand.

Sincerely, Sakusa Kiyoomi

P.S The theme is ‘summer hot day, tea with the queen’ - Atsumu’

You smile at the letter, but wonder if you should actually go or not. You did want to see him of course and get this all resolved, but you had your own plans for your anniversary which wouldn’t of been spoiled if he didn’t withhold his super-secret phone calls.

It took you hours to contemplate on what to do, but you decided to just sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. In the morning, you knew what you wanted to do. Of course, you had to go, at least to hear him out and see if he really did cheat on you or not. For all you know he’s inviting you to tell you that he’s going to run away with his agent and his secret kids they had together. You shook the negative thoughts from your head and just repeated your mantra ‘hope for the best and prepare for the worst.’

When you got there, you didn’t exactly know where he would be but he said ‘botanical gardens’ so of course you decided to just wander around there. It was nice walking around and just smelling the roses, and seeing the pretty scenery.

“Excuse me ma’am,” you hear someone say tugging on your leg “um that mister over there told me to give you these.” Looking down, you see a small boy who looked about the age of four with a crumpled up bunch of roses handing them to you.

“Oh thank you,” you say giving the kid a head pat “where is this ‘mister’ might I ask?”

“He’s over there!” The kid pointed behind him and you look to see Kiyoomi sitting under a white gazebo which is surrounded in your favorite flowers and the table is filled with food.

You walk over to your ‘boyfriend,’ with him not noticing your present yet. When you reach him you say “I think she stood you up buddy,” you joke making him jump abit startled.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, instantly beaming “You came you made it!” he stood up and pulled you into a hug, which you return before you remember why you came here in the first place.

“Oh I-” he says awkwardly

You decide to sit down pulling him down with you. You kind of sit there in uncomfortable silence, for a while until you both say.

“So I-”

“What are yo-”

You both laughed at your simultaneous comments, before Kiyoomi looks at you letting you speak. “What did you want to bring me here for?”

“I didn’t want, what happened last week to happen Y/N I-” he says looking a bit panicked “It wasn’t supposed to go this way.”

“Then how was it meant to go Sakusa.”

“Y/N, please don’t call me that, I know I made you upset but pleas-” he starts before getting distracted again “Y/N, I called you here to say a few things..”

“Them being.?” you ask a bit impatiently.

“I love you. I love you so much, you don’t even understand. Ever since I saw you at my volleyball game in our first year, in the stands just cheering us on. I knew that from that day, after I scored the winning point and our eyes met, that we were destined to be together. I just love you so much Y/N”

“Omi I don’t understand I-”

“Just let me finish please, It’s taken a while for me to say this. And trust me, there’s been so many times when I wanted to just say ‘hey Y/N let’s get married,’ but I couldn’t I was scared, and I wanted it to be perfect, so perfect. Because you deserve the world Y/N. That’s why I got Empress to help, I know that our conversations may seem odd, but I love you and she knows that she just wanted to help trust me. And she did, all this wouldn’t of been done if it wasn’t for her. But anyways Y/N what I waned to say was I love you and I love you and I-” he rambles on loosing track of his words.

But in the midst of his speech, you hear all that you needed and responded with the only way you can.

“Yes.” you say simply, with a growing smile on your face.

“Yes?” he repeats confused “What do you meann ye- ohhh" Kiyoomi blushes embarrased that after all that he ended up ruining the thought out proposal he wanted to give you with his ramble.

“Im sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to say it like that I wanted it to be perfect and I-”

You shut him up with a kiss making his eyes widen as he reciprocates it anyways.

“What did she say?” you hear someone shout from a far, and you look over to see the MSBY Jackals all standing there with shit eating grins on their faces.

“I said yes!” you yell back, to which they all cheer and rush towards you guys giving you both hugs and slapping Kiyoomi on the back.

As the boys celebrate Omi finnally do what he’s been planning for ages, you get approached by Empress who awkwardly walks up to you. “ I didn’t want to leave the impression that me and Saku were any sort of thing?” she says

“Yeah I think it was definitely a big misunderstanding, it’s just that Omi was never around and whenever he was he was just talking to you and you know how it is.”

“I definitely know, I’d feel the same way if my boyfriend did that to me.”

“Oooh boyfriend?” you ask her feeling nosey on her romantic life.

“Yeah boyfriend. You know iwaizumi hajime... the trainer?” she says smiling a bit when she said his name.

“The trainer! Nice.”

The rest of the night was fun and was basically an engagement party for you and Omi all you and friends just partying and celebrating yours and Omi’s love for each other. “Omi” you say getting his attention “Happy ten year anniversary babe”

“Happy anniversary, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

After the party you spend your months now planning for a big fat wedding, with the help of your new found bestie, Empress (who you obviously misjudged from the start.) You and Omi could never be happier, every thing was back to how it was before, maybe even better. And you definitely spent at least two Saturdays a month going out for picnics and it was now a tradition in your relationship, so in the end you did get your ‘aesthetic picnic date.’

AN: WHAT DID U GUYS THINK??

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyuu fluff #sakusa x you #sakusa headcanons #haikyu angst #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa oneshot #haikyu sakusa #signedwithane😌

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rubysunnday · 3 years

Text

i found

Summary: Y/N found love in the one place it should never have been. In the Barrel for the Bastard of the Barrel

A/N: I've arisen from the dead, aka my tik tok hole. I wrote this piece for Magpie's 1.2k celebration (@magpiencrow) using the song prompt I Found by Amber Run.

I say using it. I planned on using it, forgot I was using it, remembered I was meant to be using it and plonked it in.

But alas. Here we are.

The rain hadn't stopped all day. A thunderstorm had rolled in from the sea and had settled over Ketterdam, refusing to let up on its constant flashes of lightning and booms of thunder.

The humidity had given Y/N a migraine - one of the worst ones she'd had that year. She'd handed over her bartending role to Joe and had retreated the relatively quiet corner where Inej and Jesper were hiding.

Hiding being the optimal word.

There was unease amongst the three of them. A job the previous night hadn't gone to plan and Kaz had lost his temper with them all, removing himself to his office. None of them had seen him since last night and no one particularly wanted to see him.

Y/N knew she should probably go check on him but her head was pounding and she wasn't prepared for a shouting match.

"Someone should go talk to him."

Y/N scoffed, snatching up Jesper's shot glass and pressing it to her forehead, the condensation from the ice inside it easing the pounding momentarily. "Bagsy not me."

"Did you just say 'bagsy'?" Jesper asked, making a grabbing motion with his hand at his drink.

Y/N handed him his drink. "You introduced me to the bloody word." She sighed, sliding down in the booth, disappearing further under the table. "I'm not going to talk to him -one of you two can."

"Well, it truly is a lost cause if Y/N's giving up," Jesper muttered, sipping his drink.

Y/N titled her head back and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. The heaviness of the air wasn't helping her head - nor was the problem known as Kaz.

Jesper glanced at her and his eyes narrowed with concern. He tapped Y/N's thigh. "Hey, you alright?"

"Mmm?" She opened her eyes and glanced at Jesper. Y/N patted his hand and closed her eyes again. "Fine, headache. Look, I think we should just leave Kaz to brood."

"He's not ok," Inej replied, twirling a knife between her fingers.

"When is he?" Y/N shot back. "Kaz will come to us when he's ready - there's not pointing in pissing him off before then." Y/N winced as someone smashed their glass against the wall and a fight started up in the far corner. Her overwhelmed brain wasn't happy."I'm gonna go outside."

She clambered over Jesper and slipped out the back door, winding through the piles of boxes and crates they'd yet to put away. The rain was still pouring down and the street outside the club was practically a river.

Y/N perched herself on an upturned crate and fished a cigarette out from her pocket - a habit she hadn't meant to pick up but somehow had. She found her lighter and lit the end of her cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling.

"I didn't know you smoked."

Y/N chuckled softly. She turned to look at Jesper. "I think it's a Kaz induced habit. Whenever he," she mimed strangling someone, "you know, I find myself smoking."

Jesper sat down on the crate next to her and Y/N silently offered him the cigarette. He took it and inhaled on it, his shoulders relaxing. Y/N leant back against the wall and watched one of the many leaking drain pipes outside the Crow Club.

"Kaz didn't mean what he said last night," Jesper said quietly, handing the cigarette back to Y/N.

Y/N lifted the cigarette to her lips and sighed. "Jesper, he never means it. He still says it, though. And he never apologises. But, alas, that is Kaz."

Jesper's leg brushed against Y/N's and she found herself relaxing a bit more in the presence of her friend.

"How many times have you thought about killing Kaz?"

Y/N laughed, her smile so wide it reached her eyes. "Oh, all the time. I have a whole plan as to how I'd do the deed and hide the body." She paused, glancing down at the smoking cigarette between her fingers. "I've thought about murdering him about as many times as I've thought about kissing him."

Jesper sighed softly, shifting close to Y/N and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, Y/N."

She exhaled a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know." She nudged Jesper's knee. "You?"

"Every time he insults me - which is -"

" - every day," Y/N and Jesper said in unison. The two shared a glance and then burst out laughing.

"Saints, look at us bonding over our unrequited love," Jesper said, chuckling.

Y/N lifted her cigarette to her lips and took a long, deep drag on it. "He's such a dick."

"I know."

"I still love him."

"I know."

"Look, we have something in common! Finding love where it shouldn't be. In the form of our scary, incapable of loving anyone, boss." Y/N rested her head on Jesper's shoulder, linking her arm through his and cuddling into his side. "I'm glad you're here, Jes. Truly."

Jesper pressed a kiss onto the top of Y/N's head, resting his cheek on top of her hair. "I'm glad you're here too, Y/N."

Y/N nudged Jesper in the ribs. "Right, go on, off you go - this is all far too sentimental for my head."

Jesper laughed, standing up. He took off his blazer and chucked it at her. "Use it as an umbrella whilst you mope," he said in way of explanation at her confused frown. "Don't get shot!" Jesper called as he walked back inside.

Y/N snorted and laid the blazer over her legs. She inhaled and exhaled heavily, letting the end of her cigarette drop to the damp cobbles, stamping it out under her heel.

A pebble landed in a large puddle the other side of the alley, splashing loudly. Y/N looked up at the opposite window, frowning. As the ripples from the puddle settled, Y/N could just make out a silhouette of an all-black figure, looking out the window.

Y/N noticed the crow head cane in the figure's hand almost instantly. She stood up, pulling Jesper's blazer on and stepped out into the rain, not caring that she was getting wet.

"What?" Y/N asked, looking up at the window Kaz was standing in.

"Come here," Kaz called. Without waiting for her response, he turned away and, presumably, returned to his desk.

Y/N shook her head but obliged. She dragged a ladder out from behind a crate - she and Jesper had hidden it after they realised they couldn't do what Inej did and simply leap up onto the roofs and Saints forbid, need to use something to climb up there - and leant it against the building.

Kaz was sat at his desk in nothing but his waistcoat and shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. With his hands completely bare.

Y/N tried to look anywhere except at his hands. Or his bare arms. Or his face. In fact, she just tried to avoid looking at Kaz. The DeKappel on the wall suddenly proved to be very interesting.

"I have a job for you," Kaz said, his eyes firmly fixed on the paperwork in front of him.

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Of course," she said pleasantly, trying to ignore the disappointment swirling inside her. She'd naively thought he'd apologise for what he'd said.

Not that he ever did apologise. Because, apparently, apologies were dangerous.

"I need you to go to Councilman Fere's house and talk to the footman - he's expecting one of us. Apparently, he has something of importance he needs to tell. But first, I wanted to discuss last night -"

"Oh, Kaz, can we not do this now?" Y/N asked, rubbing her forehead.

Yes, she wanted him to apologise. But judging from the tone he'd used, that wasn't going to happen.

She hated that, out of everyone in Ketterdam, she'd fallen for Kaz. Kaz - a man who didn't seem to know what emotions were.

"Why?"

"Because my head is killing me and I don't want to do this now," Y/N replied, snapping out of her inner thoughts. "We can discuss it tomorrow when, hopefully, my head isn't trying to murder me."

Kaz was watching her closely. Whether he noticed the pain behind her eyes or how she was ever so slightly squinting at the numerous candles, he said nothing.

Instead, all he said was "fine, tomorrow afternoon."

Y/N nodded, trying not to wince as a sharp pain lanced through the back of her head. She turned around to go, heading towards the door and her bed.

"Y/N, wait."

Y/N turned back around as Kaz threw something at her. She lurched forward and caught a small, silver tub. "What's this?" She asked, holding it up.

"Numbing cream," Kaz explained, sitting back down. "It helps with headaches and other things." He paused, twirling a pen between his slender fingers. "I use it for my knee."

Y/N was trying her absolute hardest to not smile. "Thanks, Kaz."

"Oh, and don't worry about that job," Kaz added, now thoroughly engrossed in his work again. "I'll send Jesper."

"Are you sure? I don't mind -"

"Go to bed, Y/N," Kaz said, his tone neither harsh nor gentle. He looked up at her, his eyes staring firmly at her. "Get some rest. If what this footman tells us what I think he will, we're going to have a long night tomorrow."

Y/N nodded, pocketing the tin of cream in Jesper's blazer. "Yeah, 'course. Night, Kaz."

Y/N stepped out of Kaz's office and closed the door. She leant back against it for a moment, exhaling her anxiety.

Any conversation with Kaz was dangerous - Y/N never knew if she was going to murder the man or shove him up against a wall and kiss him. She'd found love in the one place it shouldn't have been. In the Barrel. And she'd found it for the one person who would never love her back.

The Bastard of the Barrel.

#shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows imagine #six of crows imagines #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker imagines #magpie's 1.2k

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬5/end

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse, blood, violence/death, fucking.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: Another finale! Hahahhaa, hope you like it!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed with shame burning in your cheeks but the heat quickly travelled to your loins as you thought of the scene at the drive-in. When you closed your eyes, you felt Arvin’s weight on you and his hand between your legs. You rolled onto one side, then the other, tossing and turning as you couldn’t escape the memory or the lingering sensation of his touch.

He was already downstairs when you woke up, a lazy Saturday morning as the garage was closed for the weekends. He was at the counter, boiling water for the coffee as you came down in a plain peach dress and flats. He looked over his shoulder and smiled at you, urging you to sit.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast, honey,” he announced as he filled the coffee press, “you know, my ma was a waitress. Worked down at this greasy diner when she met my dad. Before she died…” he stopped and his throat bobbed, “I dunno, I just remember the smell of her cookin’.”

“I’m sorry, Arvin,” you said as you took a seat at the table, “about your mother.”

“Why? It was so long ago, I hardly remember,” he shrugged as he searched the cupboards and pulled out the cast iron pan, “you know, I can barely even see my pa in my mind. Even when I really think. I feel like I’ve lived a dozen lifetimes already.” He put the metal to the burner, “but I think I found the one I want.”

You ran your fingertips along your throat nervously as you leaned your elbows on the table. You felt the void left by your missing wedding ring. You clapped your hands together and lowered them to the wood.

You watched him work in the kitchen. When you tried once to get up and help, he bid you back down tersely and you obliged. You felt restless sitting there as someone else did everything. He put a cup of coffee before you and sipped from his own between flipping the eggs.

Finally, he presented you with a plate of hash, egg, toast, and bacon. You thanked him as he sat and you picked up your fork and knife. You weren’t very hungry, the anxiety squeezed your stomach as you watched his hand. He buttered a slice and you recalled the tingle as his fingers sank into you.

You dropped your fork and apologised for the loud clang. You picked it back up and pushed the potato around. You were trying to think of what to say. Of how to say it. Arvin wasn’t volatile like Roy but he showed glimmers of anger that troubled you nonetheless.

“Last night…” you began.

“You liked it?” he perked up and swallowed, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Arvin,” you uttered.

“I just… you’re so wonderful and warm, I never known a woman like you,” he ranted, “and I… I never been with a woman, you know? I hope I didn’t leave you wanting--”

“Arvin,” you said more firmly, “I’m married.”

His face fell and he leaned back in his chair. He looked down as he scooped up some egg and hash and shoved it in his mouth. He chewed tight-lipped. His steely silence was worse than any punch. You shoved some yolk in your mouth and chewed.

“I…” you began, “I’m not meaning to upset you but we can’t just pretend--”

A deafening bang sounded and shook the house. Your breath caught as you looked at Arvin with wide eyes and he cleared his throat as he stood.

“Where is ya, boy?” Roy hollered as another blast came and you heard the door jolt. You rose and looked down the hall as slivers decorated the floor below the holes peppered in the wood. “I heard about you and my wife…” footsteps clamoured up the steps of the porch, “you think you can pull a gun on me? Well, I got a bigger one, boy!”

“Shit,” Arvin pulled you back as another gunshot blew out the handle, “go, hide.”

He shoved you away and turned back to the table. He tossed the butter knife and hurried to the counter. He pulled out a drawer and took out a steak knife. He shook his head and glanced over at you again.

“Go on,” he snarled.

“No, you,” you ran to him and touched his arm, “go, I’ll talk to him--”

“He’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“No, he won’t,” you assured, “he woulda done it years ago, Arvin, go.”

You pointed him to the back door and he shook his head. You met his eyes as he glanced back at you and you nodded.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll get him gone and come find you when he goes,” you promised, “Arvin, I can’t see you die because of me.”

His eyes searched your face and he touched your cheek. “Alright, honey,” he breathed, “you know I’ll do anything for you, don’t you?”

“Go,” you insisted as the door flew inward with a heavy kick.

Arvin scrambled away and the back door creaked in his stead as you turned to near the doorway and peer past the staircase. Roy kept the double barrel level as he pointed it at you. You quivered but tried not to show your terror.

“Roy,” you greeted through your tight throat.

“You whore,” he cocked the gun and you flinched, “I oughta shoot your fuckin’ head off too, but I just want the boy. Where is he?”

“I… I dunno, he just went out front, I thought you woulda seen him,” you lied as you filled the doorframe with your body, realising the table set for two would give away your deception.

“Don’t you be hidin’ him from me, you’re still my wife,” Roy snarled as you came closer, trying to keep him from the kitchen, “and I’m gonna put down that punk and remind you who I am. Who you are.”

“I am your wife, Roy,” you said evenly, “I can never forget that, now please, lower the gun, I’ll help you find him.”

“I ain’t believe you, you let him beat me--”

“What was I supposed to do?” you touched the metal muzzle, “he been keepin’ me here. He has a gun too, you know that.” You slid past the barrel and hesitantly reached to touch his chest, “I been so scared without you here, you’re my husband, Roy, and I love--”

He sputtered and flinched suddenly. The gun sagged and fired into the floorboards beside your shoes. The metal slid from his grasp and fell down smoking as a red splotch stained the dingy fabric of his shirt. The cascade spread as he staggered and you saw the wooden handle of the steak knife stick out from his side.

Arvin pulled the blade out as you tripped over the gun and toppled to the floor. Roy slumped to his knees as the younger man brought the knife down over his shoulder and sank it into his heart. Your lungs puffed with panic at the sickly crunch as the blade twisted between his ribs.

Your eyes widened and blurred with tears as bitterness filled your stomach. You opened your mouth and screamed as Roy fell onto his stomach and gasped out his last breaths. You felt a slickness on your cheek as a hand touched you and an arm wrapped around you. You blinked and Arvin came clear as he held the knife against your face and pulled you into his lap to cradle you.

“Wh--wh--wh--” you babbled as your eyes found your husband, completely still across the floorboards.

“He can’t hurt you no more,” Arvin cooed as he rocked you, “I heard him, he said he was gon’ shoot you. I told you, honey, I’ll do anything for you. Anything to keep you safe.”

🚬

The porcelain was cold against your body as you sat in the tub, the hot water slowly rose around you. Arvin shoved your bloody clothes in a bag and took off his own. He tied up the sack, his hands still tinged scarlet. He put the bundle in the sink and neared the wall of the footed tub.

You watched him step over the side, his stomach tightly muscles, his figure much more slender than Roy’s, though his arms were thick and his shoulders wide. He lowered himself across from you as he sat with his back to the flowing faucet. The water deepened and scalded your skin.

He took a cloth and scrubbed your face, your neck, your chest above the surface of the water. You were numb as you felt itchy, as if bugs crawled over every inch of flesh. He stood you up and finished washing you. He was gentle but firm, lingering around your curves as his brown eyes drank you in.

He took a new cloth for himself and after wiping off the droplets across his face and rinsing his body, he scratched the red from around his nails. You shivered as he helped you out of the tub and hugged you in a towel. He led you to the bed and laid you down under the quilt.

“Gonna drive out and find a ditch,” he said as he dressed. “Finish cleaning when I get back. Probably need another bath then.”

You said nothing as you stared at the ceiling, a searing white.

“Honey,” he neared and pressed his hand to your forehead, “I know you’re shook. He tried to kill ya. We both heard him say it.”

You looked at him and your eyes dampened. He bent and pecked your lips and retracted his hand reluctantly.

“I’ll try not to be too long,” he promised and pulled on his denim jacket.

He left you and you listened to his footsteps fade. You closed your eyes and saw Roy’s blood spilling forth like a tainted river. You could hear the scraping as he was dragged across the wood, Arvin’s grunts as you watched him struggle to roll your husband’s large body in a sheet.

Your lashes flicked open but the picture is painted vivid in your mind. You hear the car and the engine fades into the soft sway of trees and the noise of critters in the grass. You don’t have the strength to do more than lay there. Time passes by your stagnant eyes and the shadows set in from the corner of the room. The windows darkened and deepened your gloom.

Arvin startled you as he appeared at the door. You didn’t hear the approach of his car or his footsteps on the stairs. He neared and kissed you again. He pulled the chain on the lamp and it cast a yellow haze over you.

“You’re awake,” he said as he stood straight, “I needa wash up again.” You hummed and stayed as you were, “you want tea?”

You shook your head and he watched you. He clamped his thin lips together and backed away.

“Found his truck, just down the way,” he pulled his grey tee over his head, “looks like he drove out to the river, walked up here. Make sure it was seen so he can’t be traced up here. Smarter than he looked.” Arvin bent to untie his boots. “I left it in the water, put it into gear and let it drift off.”

You rolled onto your side and pulled the blanket to your ear. He quieted as you listened to the rustle of his clothing as he stripped it away.

“Anyhow, they won’t find him,” he said, “likely he told whoever, if anyone even cared, that he was goin’ fishin’.”

He waited for an answer but didn’t get it. He went into the bathroom and you heard the pipes rattle as he twisted on the faucet. You felt the dampness cross the hallway and seep into the room. When he returned, he gave a sigh and tossed his towel over the old chair sat by your vanity.

He folded the blanket back and you closed your eyes at his nudity. He slid in next to you and tugged the blanket over his shoulders. He circled his arm around you and brought your body against his. Suddenly, you felt everything as you were set alight by the heat of his flesh.

“Honey,” he said softly as he framed your face with his hand, “I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

You quivered and pushed your hands to his chest. You’d never been naked with another man, never seen another man naked. In the tub, you hardly figured what was happening but then, it was all too real as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh.

“Didn’t I save you? He would killed both of us,” he rasped, “honey, I know, I’ve met so many men like him…” he rubbed his nose against yours, “and killed every one of them.”

You winced and your fingers curled into his shoulders. He smothered you with a kiss as his hand trailed down and he cupped your chest. He groaned as he fondled you, tilting his hips to rub his dick against you. He rolled your nipple under his thumb as he dragged his lips down your cheek and chin.

His hand crept around your side as he slipped lower to nibble your breasts. Roy never touched you like that. Early on he was clumsy but impatient, and after a while, he was thankless and cruel. Arvin was gentle, doting and diligent. He suckled at your bud and the tugging plucked at your core.

“Mmm,” he left a path of spit down your stomach as he nudged you onto your back, “honey, you’re so beautiful,” he disappeared beneath the blanket and pushed your legs apart as he nuzzled your pelvis, his hot breath tickling your patch of hair.

He purred as nosed your cunt and his tongue dipped between your folds. You murmured and reached down to grasp his damp hair. You brought your thighs against his head and arched your back as he tended to you, slow and scintillating as he filled you with a yearning you’d never known before.

You didn’t think as you tangled your fingers in his locks and tilted your pelvis against his lapping. You shouldn’t feel this way, should feel so good. Your husband was dead and there was another man in your bed. You were a whore, just as he said. But it felt good and he wasn’t there to tell you again.

Arvin moaned as he devoured you, his hands hungrily groped your ass as he lifted you slightly from the bed. He pushed a finger against your entrance and eased into you. You gasped and he dipped another inside of you. He moved his hand in time with his mouth, his groans rumbling through you.

You hooked your legs under his arm and cried out as you came. Your body spasmed and jerked and you rode out the shattering ascent. You shook as you stilled and kissed your thighs with his wet lips, smearing your juices across your flesh.

You panted as he pushed himself up and the blanket fell down his back, leaving both your bodies bare to the soft glow of the lamp. His hands roved over your body and he bent again, kissing every inch his fingertips danced over first. He brought his lips back to yours and you tasted the sweetness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

He pushed his thighs to yours so your legs bent around them, wide and welcoming. He parted and stared down at you, his deep brown eyes swallowing you up.

“The moment I saw you, I knew,” he said as he caressed your cheek, “and I haven’t stopped thinking of this ever since that moment.”

“Arvin,” you sighed and touched his wrist.

“I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reached down between your bodies as he planted and elbow into the pillow. He ran his tip along your wet folds and his jaw clenched. “I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you…” he pressed against you until his tip was inside you, “forever.”

“Arvin,” you gulped and gripped his muscled arms, “I…”

“He’s gone,” he sank further into you and kissed you again, “and you’re mine.”

You moaned and he bottomed out with a gasp. His body tensed and he shuddered as he wiggled his hips.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, “so warm, so… sweet. Oh, honey.”

“Please…” you croaked as your eyes watered.

You didn’t know if it was the bloodiness of the day or that you’d never felt anything so pleasant, so gentle, so caring. You didn’t know why you were crying or why your body buzzed like cicadas under the moon. You pushed your head into the pillow as he pressed his fingers to your clit and rubbed in time with his steady thrusts.

“Honey,” he droned and kissed your wet cheek between each stroke, “oh, you’re so nice.”

He tilted into you over and over. You brought your legs around him and hooked your arms under his as you clawed at his back. Your body contorted with his as your eyes rolled back and you succumbed to the stolid heat coursing through your veins. You cried out and let your hands fall down as you groped his ass, begging for more.

The bed quaked as he grew more fervent in his appetite, the pain was dulled by the sheer bliss and you sang out your delight. There was nothing but his body and that radiating pulse in your core. You came again and again as you whined ravenously and dug your nails into his flesh.

He jerked into you with a fluttery breath. His hips stuttered and he fell limp over you. His head hung over your shoulder as he huffed. His cum coated your walls in a salacious heat and you ran your hands up his back. He turned his head to kiss your temples, tears still rolling down to your lobes.

As your nerves stilled and the afterglow dimmed, reality shrouded you once more. The body over yours felt heavier as you were paralysed against the bed. Arvin drew you with him as he rolled onto his side and held you. It was nice but tinged with the horror wrought by his hands.

You didn’t miss Roy but you didn’t feel free either.

🚬

Arvin rolled out the rug over the bloodstain in the hall, the whole covered over with a thin board of scrap. You watched and clutched your purse then checked the clock. He stood and neared to fetch his jacket from the small square corner table. He pulled it over the button-up that once belonged to your dad and the tie that was Roy’s.

His hair was combed back tidily and he wore a carefree smile. His eyes twinkled as he offered his hand and gestured to the door. The frame was curtained with a sheet as the shredded wood was removed and another would be ordered from Tim’s Hardware. He clung to your hand as he followed you out into the Sunday sunlight.

“We don’t have to go,” you said as he swung your hand and led you to the Chevrolet, “I know you don’t like it.”

“Nah, we should go to church,” he smiled and spun you to kiss you. He held your face between your hands as his lips lingered overly long. “Let the lord and all the other holy people see me and my girl.”

“Arvin,” you shied away.

He reached past you and opened the door. You sat and he gripped the metal as he looked down at you.

“I will keep my hands to myself before the lord,” he avowed, “I only ask his blessing for what I know to be his work.”

You considered him and wrung the short strap of your purse, “I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“I didn’t, not before,” he said with a smile, “not ‘til I met you. His most precious angel.”

You chewed your lip and turned your face down. He chuckled and closed the door. He got in the driver’s side and the engine rolled over. His hand wandered over to your lap as he steered with one hand. You looked out the window and stared up at the pale blue sky.

You didn’t believe in God. You couldn’t. Just like your father said, a benevolent lord would not gift such suffering to his creation. There was no all-knowing being sitting in the clouds, no glorious purpose for you or any other. There were only devilish men and their dark deeds.

#Arvin Russell #arvin russell x reader #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #Of something beautiful but annihilating #the devil all the time

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worstloki · 2 years

Text

Some Tesseroki HCs

- Tess picked up eye-rolling from Loki and does not hesitate to over-use the gesture when around ones close to it

- Loki learns to appreciate his post-sceptre blue eyes because they remind him of Tess (and now they match!)

- Tess’ eyes frequent all the various colours of space, but seem to spend much more time with shades of green when Loki is around

- Tess likes the action genre and shorter pieces of media!! Loki prefers longer serials like dramas, so long as it doesn’t get too repetitive. Tess doesn’t like reading, unless Loki is doing it aloud.

- They both find it fun to mix their magic together! It happens involuntarily sometimes, they’ll be sitting together or watching the stars and then realise oh, we’re not holding hands, our magic is just tangling together again, whoops,

- Tess intrinsically knows... everything about space and the universe itself even. What he does not know is the terminology different people use. This makes for interesting discussions and Tess soaking up new words whenever Loki is talking about something, and Tess describing phenomenons in very abstract unrecognisable ways leaving Loki confused over such things as a description of the sun. Astronomy conversations turn into guessing games.

- Loki is genuinely surprised when Tess respects that he doesn’t like overt displays of affection in public (and sometimes not in private either) !

- Tess doesn’t need to sleep and never did in humanoid form before but since they started sharing a bed has started to!!

- Loki suspects Tess has a blood kink but doesn’t know enough about kinks or what’s typically considered hot to be sure

- Running semi-gag of kissing each other’s hand when apologising

- Tess gets very flustered when cuddling. Not used to people holding them for the sake of holding them/just being close.

- Loki finds it easier to sleep soundly when someone else is near. It can be Thor, it can be Tess, on a few notable occasions it’s been Val, but it’s a surefire way to avoid bad dreams and he’d much rather avoid those. The people in question either are used to the clinging (Thor) will never get used to it (Tess) are convinced he does it on purpose to mess with people (Val).

- Tess loves hard candy!! For the texture and colours. Not sure if she has tastebuds, but she says they taste great so who knows!!

- Tess likes long swishy robes/flowy outfits but also isn’t fond of wearing layers !

- Loki annoyedly muttering about where he left a specific knife and Tess knowing exactly where it is, or teleporting it to her hand

- they have different definitions of what a mortal is but will use the other’s one when conversing together—this does sometimes leave other people confused though

- Tess uses a staff/spear if anything at all, Loki sticks to knives. They know how to use each other’s weapons to a point where doing a fancy move correctly will have them looking at the other mid-fight expecting praise/acknowledgment lmao

- Tess obviously has constellation freckles and gives off variable amounts of various radiation

- (either of those can have a deteriorating effect on Loki, but he kind of doesn’t care.)

- Loki makes so many space related puns. A lot fly over Tess’ head but its getting used to picking up on the tone/peculiar phrasing’s when they’re said and asks! When it actually recognises a word and understands the wordplay on its own is a momentous occasion and you bet Loki’s smiling so hard

- they have a collection of small cube and knife shaped objects that have been gifted to each other under the guise of ‘it reminded me of you 🥺’

- people often ask how the sex works if Tess is technically a cube and may not even have a gender or blood etc. lots of snickering and no answers ensues.

- Tess changing their size for various tasks. That’s it. That’s the headcanon. Tess goes giant and Loki’s got hearteyes. Tess goes tiny and Loki’s got hearteyes.

- Loki introducing Tess to coffee. Obviously, she loves it. Even though she likes very little ‘mortal’ food and drink. Loki hates coffee. It’s too bitter. He was giving it to her as an attempted prank. It backfired. Now they always have coffee available at home. All the time.

#tesseroki #that’s it that’s the post #inspired by @lokigodofaces’ post !

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lovetorn · 3 years

Text

in chains for you [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Criminals!AU

Summary: The Dream Team is an underground crime group that works for Techno Industries. But what happens when one of their most valuable members is taken for ransom by their enemy, Schlatt?

Warnings: Swearing & mean insults :(, kidnapping, death, violence, uhhh nothing else? message me if you see anything else!

Word Count: 8.1k+

A/N: I’m so sorry for any mistakes/plot holes, my adhd said no❤️ when i was editing :(

Note: Please remember these are all characters! Since I do not know any of these people in real life, I have created all aspects of their lives, personalities etc. and apologise for any OOC moments. I portrayed Schlatt as the villain purely from his role play in the Dream SMP, obviously, I do not believe him to be like this irl in any way. He is also written as much older than the Dream Team to enhance the villain-like characteristics. Remember, this is just fiction! Thanks!

Night had fallen over California, and the icy breeze from the South blew through the city of Beverly Hills. The lights from several luxury hotels and displays lit up the streets and exposed the city. It was more alive than half the people that resided there. Here, people only cared about their money and their assets; barely any room left for emotions towards others that didn’t benefit them.

“Hurry the fuck up, Sapnap!”

The gravelly sound of Dream shouting prompted Y/n to run faster. Tensions were high as three criminals rushed to the dark SUV that sat running outside of the tall building. They clutched black duffle bags in both hands when the sound of familiar sirens cried a few blocks away.

Unlocking the car, George threw open the back car door and launched his duffle bags onto the car seats before hopping in. Dream rounded the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat, Y/n doing the same for the passenger’s side. And whilst they were shoving the bags in, Sapnap came running out of the building, another duffle bag in his hand and a briefcase in the other. The ends of his white bandana flew around in the wind behind him as he missed a dip in the floor.

“What the fuck has he got now? We’ve gotta go!” George exclaimed, hurrying the boy by waving his hand. Dream put the car in drive as Sapnap slammed the door, “Go, go, go!”

The car squealed while Dream pulled off of the curb, the wheels screeching against the tar as he pressed his foot heavily on the accelerator. 40, 50, 70, 100, 130mph. The speedometer jumped by 10s and then by 40s as the car barrelled down the long strip of road, the wailings of sirens fading behind them.

George, Y/n and Sapnap were laughing as they took their masks off. The sound pissed Dream off as he gripped the steering wheel harder; why is nobody taking this seriously?

Ripping his white mask off his face and throwing it into his lap, Dream looked at Sapnap through the rearview mirror, “Why did you take so long? That could’ve fucked our whole plan!”

“Jeez, chill out.”

Dream shot him a glare through the mirror as Sapnap put his hand up, “Schlatt said he had a briefcase full of Chick-Fil-A gift cards, so I grabbed the first one I saw.”

George lolled his head to the side, mouth agape as he stared at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”

Sapnap shook his head, resting the case on his thighs and popping open the clasps.

“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, turning the case around to show the rest of the car the bundles of hundreds of red and white cards that laid on a sheet of red velvet. Sapnap’s eyes remained as wide as saucers the entire time he tilted the case at different angles to ensure everybody saw.

Y/n turned around in her seat to face the boys in the back and giggled.

“Can I have one?” She asked, holding her hands up in a praying gesture. Sapnap laughed and nodded, “I’ve got enough for a whole country! And anything for you, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back around to face the road that was gone as quick as it came.

The deep sigh that came from Dream in the driver’s seat caught the attention of everybody in the car. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shut the case. “Calm down, green boy. She’s all yours.”

Arriving at the motel George had found, the four lugged the black duffle bags in the small room. Locking the room door, Dream spun around to see everybody sitting on one of the single beds.

He eyed the black duffle bags in the corner with a frown, each one full to the brim with thousands of 100 dollar bills that they had to transfer back to base. George cleared his throat when he saw his friend looking at the bags and raised his eyebrows, “Dream?” The man turned at the sound of his name and nodded once. He had an odd feeling in his stomach but decided to ignore it and face the problem at hand first before anything else.

Dream sighed, “We did good tonight,” The three on the bed hollering softly, fist-bumping each other before Dream continued.

“But...” Y/n, George and Sapnap all groaned, throwing their heads back at the oncoming disappointment that Dream was going to throw on them.

“Sapnap, what the fuck was that? You can’t go off on your own tangents during a plan this big! What would’ve happened if—”

Sapnap’s eyes widened when he realised Dream’s rage was aimed towards him. “Dream! It’s okay, bro. I’m right here, we’re all alive—”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided Dream’s gaze when it landed on her. She didn’t want him asking her to back him up; not tonight.

“Anyway, I hope you all know what comes next.” The three nodded, heads down and eyes trained on the worn carpet. Sapnap and George stood up and went to different sides of the room, George to the bathroom and Sapnap to the desk where he pulled out his iPod and earphones.

Dream watched as Y/n lifted her head back up, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and patted the space on the bed next to her. Dream ran a hand through his tangled blonde hair and walked over to her, sitting where her hand once was.

“You okay?” She asked softly, placing her hand over his that sat in his lap. Dream nodded before huffing. “I just don’t know how successful this plan actually is. Something’s off.” He whispered, grabbing her hand. Y/n leaned forward to try and meet his green eyes; the ones that made her weak at the knees when he looked at her a certain way. But he didn’t need to know that considering they were just friends.

“We did good today, look! We’re here, alive and well. And if something’s bothering you, just know that I’ll always be here to help you. Now, I need the bathroom.” She smiled, squeezing his hand before standing up.

“George? When are you done?” She yelled at the bathroom door. Dream tilted his head to the side as he admired her, what would he do without her?

“Soon! Stop being annoying!”

It had reached a point in the night where Dream couldn’t sleep. The single bed he laid in was uncomfortable, and the nagging feeling of doubt kept him awake. Something was wrong.

He looked over a Y/n who laid in the other bed across from him. His top priority was to keep her safe; he had to. His eyes then travelled to his two other best friends—Sapnap in the desk chair and George on the brown couch.

He smiled softly. Dream rarely got emotional, but seeing his friends and partners in crime—literally—so vulnerable, had his mind plagued with vicious scenarios that brought tears to his alarmingly vacant eyes.

They weren’t always void, but seeing death as he did, had pushed the soul of nature out of his once striking eyes. He thought they looked dull now, matching the rest of his face, but Y/n always told him they were the prettiest she’d ever seen. He’d always flush when she said that which always elicited a poke in the ribs and a teasing comment from her.

Dream forgot how long he’d been lying there, his mind drifting in and out of sleeping until a high-pitched squeak came from the main door. He reached for his knife that held a place under the pillow and sat up, holding his knife and facing the door.

On the floor next to the door, sat an ominous black envelope. Dream chewed the inside of his lip, his heart beating rapidly with panic. How did they find them?

—

“How the fuck did they find us?” George asked, his palms sweaty as he held the letter in his hands. The gold foiling around the letters was both alluring and terrifying.

Palm Casino. Wednesday Night. 12am. Be there, or face death.

Dream had rolled his eyes when he read the letter for the first time; Schlatt was so dramatic. And although fear and doubt had set in his stomach, he didn’t let his friends know.

How did they find them? They had been careful with the robbery, getting everything they needed without leaving a trace, nothing out of place, except for—

Dream shoved his partners out of the way and leaned down to pick up the briefcase with the Chic-Fil-A gift cards. Sapnap went to interject, primarily to save his prized possession when Y/n grabbed his elbow and shook her head when he turned to her.

Dream opened it then turned it upside down, emptying the cards onto the rotting carpet.

“Dream—”

“Shut up.” He then continued to rip the velvet from the inside of the case to reveal a small box with a red flashing light. Sapnap stopped his wriggling and stood staring at the device.

“This is your fault, you dipshit.”

Sapnap was silent. Y/n softened her grip to rub his elbow comfortingly instead, the action making Dream narrow his gaze. The girl rolled her eyes and spoke up, “How was he supposed to know it was in there, Dream? You can’t blame him for this at all.”

Dream shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor before huffing and scrunching his nose in a disgusted manner.

Midnight had arrived quickly, like a thief in the dark, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky. A light breeze swept into the city, making the palm trees sway in the delicate moonlight as a black SUV pulled up to the Palm Casino.

“Okay, here we go. I want you all on your best behaviour,” Dream joked. And as his mask only hid half of his face, a lopsided grin graced his face as he popped the door open. Y/n knew that smile; it was one that was begging for chaos, but she knew it was just a deflection from his real emotions.

Walking to the entrance, Y/n reached up and placed her hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dream let out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The boys sported black on black suits with matching Rolex watches, the gold of the timepieces shining in the low light. The only differences between them being Dream’s smiley mask, Sapnap’s white bandana in his hair, and George’s white glasses upon the top of his head. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a fitting dress with gold jewellery. She would’ve worn anything else, but considering the situation, she complied.

As the waitress walked them over to the poker table, Y/n caught Dream’s hand in her own, squeezing it once before letting go. She knew he was worried and the action in itself was enough to calm Dream’s nerves for the time being, but as soon as he made eye contact with Schlatt, it all went away.

“Boys! How are we doing?” The man yelled, throwing his arms up with a smile on his face. Dream nodded once and sat down at the table, Sapnap and George following. Y/n went to sit beside Sapnap but was cut off by Schlatt who took it upon himself to police the members at said table.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid this game is only for the men.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and clasped his hands on the table. Y/n narrowed her gaze at him before rolling her eyes and moving to stand behind Dream.

Schlatt then stood and excused himself from the table, making George throw Dream a confused look before the man spoke up. He walked towards another room, guarded by velvet ropes, but not before shouting, “Let the games begin!”

—

Dream sat observing the last man in the game next to himself, ensuring he wouldn’t lose, not that he ever did. He had learnt from his father early on to read the expressions of the players around him and how to benefit from the folds and raises. People were shocked when they found out his age, bewildered that such a young man could earn numbers like that.

Dream stared narrowly at the man; his eyebrows raised as he wore a sly smirk. The man in front of him was profusely sweating, his hand reaching to grasp a tissue from his pocket as the last community card was placed down. The surrounding men groaned; their expressions irritable as the Dream Team gained another win. Dream threw the cards onto the Poker table and stood up, offering his hand to the gentleman. He reluctantly accepted then hurried out of the room, four of his acquaintances following.

Y/n watched as Dream swapped seats with Sapnap, allowing him his turn at the game. She then moved and leaned down to Dream’s ear, “This is bullshit, where’s Schlatt gone?”

Dream shook his head and shrugged quickly, “Fuck knows.”

“Let’s go, Sapnap,” A man they recognised as Fletcher spoke, sitting down in front of the young man as his buddies filed around the table to take their seats. Sapnap didn’t talk, he only glanced back at Dream who tilted his head, holding his forefinger up to indicate this would be their last round.

Once Sapnap had collected his two starting cards, the game began. Dream watched as each of the men were eliminated through folds and how they apologised to Fletcher for letting him down. The man brushed them off, telling them to “watch how it’s done”. Dream, Sapnap and George stifled a laugh as they watched the second last man fold. Behind them, Y/n grew impatient and began mumbling to herself about how ridiculous it was.

“Excuse me? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a round? Get the fuck outta here.” Fletcher said, his voice harsh as Y/n’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. Dream went to interject before the man spoke again.

“A scotch on the rocks.” He then said.

“I’m not a waitress.” Y/n’s voice was monotone while the man waved her away. Y/n scoffed before she moved towards him. Dream’s hand flew out to catch her wrist, and Y/n rolled her eyes. As angry as Dream was, he wasn’t going to start something with Schlatt’s men before the meeting actually started. Sapnap didn’t pay any attention to the conversations around him, focusing only on winning.

Fletcher chuckled, holding his cards close to his chest, “you dumb kid”. Sapnap’s facial expression went from serious to amused, watching as the dealer placed down the final community card. Sapnap’s eyes flickered to Fletcher’s grey ones as he slammed his cards down on the table. Sapnap then reached to gather his winnings in chips, earning pats on the back from George and a gentle laugh and fist-bump from Dream.

Fletcher sat in disbelief; he was sure he would win this one. Sapnap stood up and embraced George in a hug before moving to Dream as Fletcher circled around the table.

“You cheating bastard!” Sapnap held his hands up in defence, clueless as to why this man was coming at him.

“No cheating here, Fletch, just plain luck,” He grinned, clearly not fearful of him.

“Dude just take the loss and move on, it’s not that deep,” Y/n said, catching the attention of Fletcher again.

“Not now, you whore. The men are talking,” Fletcher glowered, looking intimidatingly down at the girl.

Y/n, however, wasn’t fazed by his words, “Look, it’s not his fault that you lost. I guess you just suck at Poker.” Fletcher’s face went bright red, and Y/n swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. Her eyes widened as she took a step back slowly. George pushed her behind him despite her protests of being able to handle herself.

“Come on Fletch, there’s no need to go after an innocent woman,” Dream asserted, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He soon realised that his actions were a mistake as Fletcher spun around and threw his fist towards Dream’s nose. Dream’s mask had cracked slightly on impact, his green eyes widening in panic as he stumbled back slightly.

Sapnap scanned the other men around them and calculated their next moves before he ducked a punch from a redhead. George’s hands gripped under Dream’s armpits as he pulled him up, dodging fists from the older men. Dream’s eyes were watering from the unexpected hit to the nose, and he could barely see.

But what he did see was Y/n raising the metal drinks tray she found on the poker table next to them and slamming it down on the back of Fletcher’s bald head. Her eyes were wide as she stood behind his figure that was now on the floor, groaning. Her eyes met his and Dream felt his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t acknowledge it at the present time because there were five other guys to deal with.

Dream regained his posture and cocked his head to the right, stretching his neck before standing off to the others. The men stood with their fists raised in front of their faces and their feet apart, ready to engage. George, Sapnap and Dream were just as confused as Y/n was, who was making sure Fletcher stayed down.

“I really fucking hate you guys. Let’s get a move on with the meeting, shall we?” Y/n said lazily, she just wanted to get home.

—

Dream sat in a large black chair, the lower half of his face covered in blood, the top half covered by his stained, cracked mask. Y/n had her legs crossed, with a stern expression, glaring at Schlatt as he rounded the table to sit at his obnoxiously large desk.

Schlatt had demanded it only be Dream and Y/n in the office with him, making George and Sapnap wait outside. The two boys had angrily complained about it, but Dream assured them it would be fine, leaving them to sulk next to the heavy wooden door that led to Schlatt’s office.

“You two make a good pair, eh?” Schlatt smirked, bringing his hands to interlock in front of him on the desk. Dream glanced at Y/n, who gave him a bored look.

He then turned back to the front, “Why are we here, Schlatt?”

“Oh, not very friendly,” He laughed, earning no responses from anyone in the room except for his assistant, Quackity, who stood in the corner. “That’s Quackity by the way.”

Dream shrugged, uninterested with the introduction of his assistant and remained still until Schlatt continued.

“Now, tell me where the money is, Dream.” There it was—the literal million-dollar question.

The masked blonde didn’t react. Y/n cast her eyes towards him, seeing nothing but the white mask that covered his face. The smile on the front was a harsh contrast to the anger Dream felt. And when Schlatt huffed and wiggled his fingers at Quackity, then Dream perked up.

Suddenly, Y/n wrists were being grabbed by Quackity, who had crossed the room in seconds. Dream immediately stood, only to be pushed back by Schlatt who had moved in front of him.

Y/n opened her mouth object when Quackity whacked his free hand over her mouth. She let out a whimper at the smack, tears welling in her eyes in shock. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle against his harsh grip on her wrists. Y/n’s breathing became heavier, her thoughts clouded with fear of the unknown; what would Schlatt want with her?

Quackity dragged the girl from the large chair towards the other side of the room, where another door lay, but he didn’t take her in yet. Dream’s gaze was locked on Y/n, everything else slipping away as he watched her thrash against her captor.

“Let’s call it leverage?” Schlatt’s haunting voice echoed through the room, and he had an evil gleam in his eye. “You tell me where you hid the money, and I’ll let her go.”

Dream’s head was on a swivel when he turned back to face Schlatt. Panic blossomed in his stomach; if he gave up the money, they’d all be dead. And as hard of a decision as it was, Dream knew what to do—he had his full faith in Y/n. He remembered what she had told him when they first started working together and drew in a breath. He nodded at Y/n once, receiving a pleading look in reply, and sighed.

“Give ‘em hell, baby.”

—

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Sapnap spat as the three men got back into the SUV outside of the casino. George shook his head in the backseat, scoffing as Dream ignored their questions.

Meanwhile, Dream drove in complete fury. He knew what he did was wrong and stupid, but Y/n once demanded he let her go if she was ever held for ransom. It was an odd request at the time. And this was an irrational move that could get her killed, but he had no choice—it was her or the whole operation, and Dream was loyal.

“Hello? You fuckin’—”

“Sapnap.”

The youngest froze at Dream’s tone and sunk into his seat, choosing to look out of the window than at him. He flexed his hand against the steering wheel, refusing to meet their gazes.

“Y/n asked me before any of this started, that if she were to ever be held hostage, for ransom, whatever, to trust her and let them take her. I don’t know why I never asked her why, but we have to trust her, and you have to trust me for making this decision.”

“Call Techno and tell him that Schlatt’s taken one of us for ransom.” Dream said to no one in particular. Sapnap scrambled to get his phone from his pocket and dial their boss’ number, but not before turning and facing Dream from the passenger’s seat.

“I—we trust you, Dream. And we’ll be with you till the end, okay?” Sapnap mumbled, gesturing to George in the backseat.

“She’ll be fine.” Dream had a hard time believing George, “We know Y/n, she’s a strong girl—a whole lot stronger than us—she’ll get through it.”

The piercing sound of metal against metal made Y/n cringe, distracting her from the burning of the new rope bound around her wrists. Quackity’s heavy breathing almost made her laugh, they hadn’t even walked for that long.

He didn’t say anything to Y/n when he guided her inside a cell. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked around the dirty space, scrunching her nose in disgust as she noticed the damp walls and the stray cockroach that scurried across the floor.

“I’m sorry about the state of this, we don’t have visitors often,” Quackity said, exhaling a scoff he let go of her arms. Y/n’s face dropped when she felt the rope loosen and fall off her wrists. She remained still as Quackity rummaged around behind her.

The screech of the cell door closing startled Y/n—she thought she’d have more time to fight back. She heard Quackity shuffle away from the cell, and shortly after, the sound of dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor caught her attention.

Y/n slowly turned around when someone cleared their throat behind her. She rolled her eyes as she came face to face with Schlatt. He stood with his hands behind his back in his usual arrogant suit and his deep red tie.

“Do you know why my tie is this red?” He asked, his head tilted to the side with a patronising smirk. It was an odd question, but Y/n could already guess the answer, she just didn’t want to hear it when she was this vulnerable.

Schlatt leaned down and closer to the cell, his face fitting perfectly between the bars as his eyes glared into Y/n’s.

“It’s so you can’t see the bloodstains.” He winked before sanding to his full height, his mood shifting entirely, “Anyways, I’m gonna keep this short. Get comfortable, Princess, you’ll be here awhile knowing Dream and his goons.”

With a clap of his hands and a small chuckle, Schlatt left, his shoes clacking down the hallway and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. The machine dinged and then it was gone, leaving Y/n in a deafening silence.

She sank to her knees, crestfallen, onto the concrete beneath her, still in her tight dress. As strong-minded as Y/n was, she couldn’t bring herself to give a witty remark. She was absolutely defeated. She knew Dream would get her out, eventually, but at what cost? Would Dream let everything the Dream Team has worked for in the past 3 years go to waste? For her?

She didn’t let herself cry as she picked herself up, and hesitantly sat on the cot in the corner of the cell. Her dress was uncomfortable, and the feeling of satin against her skin irritated her immensely.

Y/n had no idea how far underground she was; she sat in complete darkness and utter silence, nothing but the ringing of her ears and her screaming thoughts to keep her company.

—

Dream paced the small space, tearing at his hair roots with his fists, his face red with panic and anger. He was so in his head; he couldn’t hear his two friends calling his name from 3 feet away. The thought of Y/n alone with Schlatt made him so infuriated he could punch a hole through the brick wall next to him. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and the stinging of his nails digging into his palms was numbing.

Sapnap threw George a concerned glance, his brown eyes pleading George to do something to stop Dream from falling further into an endless loop of guilt and despair.

“Dream!” The sound of George calling him in that tone caused him to pause his pacing. He turned to look at his English friend with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You need to stop! Y/n wouldn’t want you having an existential crisis over her, she’d want you to hurry up and figure out a plan to get her back.”

Dream stood frozen for a moment; what would Y/n want? It was like a switch flipped inside Dream when he stood up straight, sending him into autopilot. All emotion wiped was from his face, leaving his eyes vacant and face blank. And as much as George hated to admit it, this cold version of his best friend knew what to do and how to do it efficiently. The sudden change shocked Sapnap slightly, leaving him frightened as he grabbed onto George’s sleeve.

“Ok boys, let’s get to work.”

Emotion is a weakness, and they sure did not need that right now.

Y/n had been suffering in the same tight dress and uncomfortable heels for a week; Schlatt’s lack of humanity and human decency (as well as kidnapping her in the first place), had put him in Y/n’s bad books.

The only human interaction she had was Quackity bringing her meals twice a day and the small conversations they would have as she ate. He didn’t talk about his work much, only hinting at his eventual betrayal and escape from Schlatt. Although, he continually spoke of his family to her, telling Y/n that he was there against his will and was threatened with death if he left. She felt sympathy for the boy, he was so young.

When Alex, as she now calls him, left her, Y/n was back with her mind. She had remained seemingly sane despite being in solitary confinement but was going insane without Dream. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his emerald ones gleaming at her through the darkness, their vibrance giving her shivers.

She missed his touch: his cold hands in her’s, their knees brushing slightly when sitting on the motel bed, his hand on her thigh in the car, despite complaints from the boys. She cared deeply for him, and she knew he did too, but they were both too scared of rejection to get together. Sapnap always teased them for being ‘pussies’, and George would roll his eyes whenever they would flush at their closeness—god, she missed them too.

Biting her lip, Y/n tried her best to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. But she hadn’t let them fall since being held ransom, fearing she would be seen as weak by Schlatt, and even Alex. The burning at the back of her throat was fiery as she let them out. She struggled to breathe, clawing at her throat when she felt her lungs tighten. Y/n tried to sit upright to calm herself down, but her pained cries filled the cold, concrete basement and rattled the cell bars. She sobbed for hours, only falling asleep when the last ones dried.

—

As Dream put the car in park, he turned to face George in the passenger’s seat.

“You ready?” He asked. George exhaled and nodded, “Let’s get her back.”

Dream smirked. His attitude had flipped entirely from last week, leaving him cocky and ready to fight the world. However, George saw through his best friend’s act. He heard Dream’s choked and ragged cries in the bathroom at 4 am, and noticed his red, puffy eyes at 7 am when they woke up. He saw the way his hands shook every time he drove, and he caught onto Dream’s routine of not eating until Sapnap would force him away from the table with the plans spread across it.

George was concerned for his best friend, and Dream was oblivious. But despite everything, George knew he was determined to get Y/n back, above all else. Her life came before his own, and that scared George to his core, how far would Dream go to save Y/n?

“Ok, Geor—” The piercing screams of fire alarms made Dream jump as they echoed down the street. The two boys shared a surprised look before they hopped out of the SUV. They jogged down the road towards the Palm Casino with black duffle bags on their shoulders.

Flames rose as high as the sky and embers rained on Dream and George as they ran through the smoke to the entrance. Employees darted out of the main doors, crashing into the boys as they continued to the central control room of the casino. George heaved the heavy door open before closing it firmly behind them. They dropped the bags and began drinking in the clean air as they set their eyes on Sapnap who sat behind a desk with his feet up on the table.

“Well, boys, how did I do?” He said, arms out as he cocked his eyebrow up. George laughed in disbelief, “I can’t believe that worked.”

Sapnap shook his head quickly, “You had no faith in me, did you?” He threw his hand on his chest and stood up from his spot.

“Sap, you did great!” Dream exclaimed, walking over to slap the boy on the back. Sapnap’s pained expression turned into a smile as he watched George do the same.

“Ok then, where’s the security office?”

—

“I can’t fit my fat ass through there, Sapnap.” Dream’s jaw dropped as he measured the gap with his hands, “There’s just no way!”

George rolled his eyes and pushed Dream towards the duct, “Just go! Do you want Y/n back or not?” Dream’s face scrunched up, much like a child when having a tantrum, and whined.

“Why don’t you just go? I simply just cannot fit! Here, you wanna see?” George and Sapnap nodded, amused looks on their faces as they watched him dive headfirst into the air duct.

His body slipped in in such an elegant way that it made them burst out laughing. Dream, who couldn’t see his friends, exhaled deeply before he began crawling along. His movements heightened their laughter, seeing him wiggle through, but it only made Dream more determined to pursue the journey.

“Oh yeah, you have such a fat ass, Dream! Throw it back for me, baddie!” Sapnap yelled after him, his giggles interrupting the sentence a few times.

George and Sapnap’s antics were long gone, and all Dream could hear was the squeaking of an elevator and the creaking of the metal beneath him. He had memorised the layout of the ducts in his head and decided that this was the spot to drop down into.

The first basement looked usual, with a boiler in the corner and some filing cabinets lining the walls. Dream dropped from the ceiling with no sound, moving silently towards the elevator in the opposing corner of the large room. The sound of shoes slapping the hard ground paused Dream’s movements before he moved quickly behind a cabinet.

“—He said not to go down there, Tubbo. What do you think he’s hiding?”

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, were those kids? He adjusted his mark slightly before he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet. Sure enough, Dream saw two teenage boys, one significantly taller than the other. But nonetheless, they were definitely very young. Why did Schlatt hire two British kids to guard his secret underground prison? Dream shook his head, glancing down at the floor as he crept out of his hiding spot.

“Oi!” He heard. Dream looked up, seeing the taller boy stalk towards him. The blonde boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked back at the other boy.

“Tubbo, do you know who this is?” The blonde asked in disbelief. The shorter one nodded, his expression lifting at the sight of Dream. Their jaws dropped as Dream exhaled deeply.

“Dream? As in the Dream Team? As in Techno Industries?” Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t respond as the two boys inched closer to him.

“Listen, I’ll give you a few bucks if you don’t mention this to Schlatt, got it?” Dream growled, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. The boys’ eyes shone, the shorter one reaching forward to accept the bribe before the blonde pushed him back.

“That’s all? I was expecting at least a grand each from THE Dream.” He smirked. Dream remained expressionless and went to decline before the blonde continued. “It’s a grand each or I tell Schlatt you were snooping around his casino.”

Dream shook his head and pulled another $600 from his pocket and shoved it into their hands, “Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll do it myself.”

The taller one went to reply, but the other one pulled on his sleeve and shook his head. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a string of curse words before turning and stomping away. The other boy muttered a quick ‘thank you’ with a small smile on his face and hurried off in the direction of the staircase that went up to the casino’s main floor. Dream guessed that the fire had been taken care of by the way they fled carelessly up the stairs.

Dream sighed and trod over to the elevator. He pressed the arrow to go down and groaned when the scanner next to it blinked red.

He scrunched up his face when he glanced back towards the air duct. The only other option was to try and get down the air duct and into the rafters in the basement below.

Dream had the urge to throw a temper tantrum at Sapnap’s shitty planning. He pulled himself back up into the duct and crawled towards the wall where the elevator was. Reaching a sharp drop, Dream looked over the edge, his eyes widening at the height. He grunted as he positioned himself above the fall; all he had to do was slide down.

He could hardly see the bottom, but he knew if he slid down as planned, he would go straight through. So, instead, Dream slowly moved his arms and legs into the small space and gradually let himself down, inching closer to the bottom with every move.

Sweat dripped down his temple, and his muscles ached as he went, his palms becoming slippery against the smooth and thin metal. He held his breath as he reached the bottom, scared any sound he made would attract unwanted attention from whoever could be in the vicinity.

He let out a quiet, steady breath, and he returned to his hands and knees in the horizontal air duct. His original plan was irrelevant, so he didn’t know the map of the air ducts in the second basement, leaving him guessing.

Once he thought the spot was right, he harshly pushed on a panel of the duct below him, hearing it clatter on the concrete as it hit the ground. He cringed at the sound and slowly lowered himself onto the beams that were directly below him. How convenient.

The sharp sound of the panel dropping had caught the attention of several guards. On this level, there were actual security guards with weapons and not lippy teenagers. Dream made eye contact with one of them, scolding himself when the man scrambled for his walkie talkie as he spotted Dream on the beams above.

Dream rolled his eyes and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he landed before standing up. He brought his pointer finger to his lips before bringing his fist to his neck and dragging his thumb across the skin. The action itself made the security guard’s eyes widen and freeze his movements. Dream’s sadistic smile and seemingly wild nature made the guard move backwards into the wall as he passed.

He went around another corner and was met with an entirely different area he wasn’t expecting. But, Dream was sure he was going to succeed in finding Y/n and escaping as soon as possible. And of course, the echo of a sinister whistle made him freeze. Fuck.

“Dream! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” As Schlatt rounded the corner, a smirk spread across his smug face, Dream squeezed his eyes shut.

“A little friend of mine told me you were here! Just thought I’d come and say hi,” He chuckled as Dream cracked his knuckles. Damn kids.

“Schlatt, where’s Y/n?” Dream demanded, cracking his neck when he jerked his head to the side.

“Now, that’s not a nice way to greet a friend, is it, Dream?”

Dream’s eyes widened behind his mask. He stood stunned, no words coming from his mouth.

“Dream, she’s not yours. She never has been. So why do you think you have to save her?” Dream’s expression remained the same as Schlatt continued, “You’re too pussy to even ask her out, let alone be her boyfriend.” It was a ridiculous argument, Schlatt knew that, but he was positive he was going to get a rise out of Dream this way.

He sneered at Dream’s silence, the deep rumble of his cackle rattling Dream’s bones. Suddenly, a scream added to the ominous atmosphere that Schlatt had created, and Dream jumped into action, launching himself at the older man.

“Where is she?” His voice became raspy as he threw a punch at Schlatt’s temple. Schlatt growled at the attempt and hurled his arm back at Dream. He dodged it, barely, but stepped back and rushed towards the cell Y/n was in.

“Y/n?” He shouted, ducking and searching for the girl through the bars of the numerous cells that lined the basement.

“Here.”

The sound of her broken voice snapped Dream into action. Sprinting down the hallway, he was met with Y/n’s grubby and exhausted body. His heart broke at the sight of her, and he gripped the bars, pulling and pushing them in an attempt to break them.

Dream was so caught up in getting Y/n out, he didn’t notice Schlatt coming from his left.

The impact of a fist colliding with his temple sent Dream stumbling to the right, his mask cracking slightly in the corner at the force. He grunted in pain before spinning to meet Schlatt again, who had his arm raised in its previous position. Dream tried to shake his head from his dazed state, the unexpected hit stunning his consciousness.

Schlatt aimed once again and swung his fist to hit Dream in the face. But, Dream saw it coming and swivelled to the left to dodge the incoming punch. Schlatt let out a guttural sound, growing frustrated with his miss. The hit to his temple left Dream seeing stars; however, he managed to duck and strike Schlatt in his stomach, earning a deep groan. The older man recovered quickly, picking himself back up to his full height as he mumbled, “bastard.”

Dream was losing shamefully, lazily avoiding punches and swaying lightly as Schlatt grinned at his anticipated win.

Whilst Dream stumbled slightly, Schlatt snickered, his fist coming across to hit him again. This time, the punch followed through and cracked his ceramic mask fully, the object dropping to the ground and shattering on impact. Schlatt barked out a laugh as he watched the pieces scatter.

“And here we have, the real Dream! You know, you’re not what I expected. Definitely uglier.” He cackled, doubling over in laughter as Dream watched. He blinked and was void of any emotion as Schlatt stood back up.

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Dream clenched his jaw, and he lunged forwards, his hands coming to grip onto Schlatt’s shoulders and bringing his knee up to jab him in his stomach. He groaned out in pain as he doubled over, yet again, but this time not in joy.

The back of Dream’s belt that held his handgun was screaming at him. So, reaching behind him, Dream revealed his firearm. The weapon had wiped Schlatt’s smug look off of his face, replacing it with one of fear. His expression mocked Dream, although he didn’t catch onto Schlatt’s taunting.

“Dream, listen, buddy—”

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt.”

But, Dream’s face contorted to something of confusion and horror when Schlatt started chuckling. He pulled the side of his suit jacket to the side to reveal a similar Glock, making Dream freeze his once confident motions.

“You see, I’m always 3 steps ahead of you, Dream,” Schlatt tormented, pulling the gun from its secure place in his jacket.

“You’re fucked now.” Dream went to lunge at him again, but Schlatt stepped to the side and pushed him down.

Dream’s gun went sliding across the polished concrete and out of his reach. The blonde swore as he saw Schlatt stumbling towards his fallen body. He lifted himself off of the ground, panting heavily as he ducked another punch from the older man. Dream stepped back, balancing his weight on his right foot, and threw his fist out towards Schlatt’s cheek. The punch landed, and Schlatt staggered backwards slightly, blood dripping from his lips as he grinned.

“I see how it’s gonna be,” He lifted his arm and aimed the gun towards Y/n, who stood in the cell behind him. Dream leaned to the side to catch Y/n’s pained gaze.

“Please,” Dream’s strained voice was barely audible through Schlatt’s booming psychotic laughter. Clenching his fists, Dream glared at him, “Don’t do this, Schlatt.”

“Oh, Dream, I could do this all day!—” A flat crack bounced off the concrete room and was soon followed by a heavy thud. Dream swallowed in shock as he watched deep red blood spill across the floor, oozing out of the fresh wound. He was frozen in his spot as he watched the body twitch and then loll, unmoving.

“Dream?” Dream’s eyes flickered from Schlatt’s body to Y/n, who stood with his gun loosely in her hand.

“Y/n?” His voice was weak as he struggled to stand. The clatter of the gun dropping on the hard surface didn’t come close to silence the thoughts running through his head.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here. Dream?” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around Dream’s stiff body. His hand came up to feel the wetness on his cheeks, and he pulled it away, seeing red smeared on his fingers.

“He’s gone?” He whispered, earning a nod from Y/n, “It’s okay.”

“No, I know. It just shocked me, that’s all. I thought he killed you.”

Y/n sighed, tightening her grip on him, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m right here, see. I’m not hurt, I’m fine, with you.”

Dream turned his head towards her, an unsure expression on his face as he threw his arms around her.

“Fuck, I thought—”

“Dream. Deep breaths.” He nodded, following Y/n’s motions in breathing evenly.

“Jesus, usually you’re the one helping me calm down from something like this,” Y/n giggled, her hand coming to run her fingers through his hair, not minding the dampness of drying blood. A smile broke out on Dream’s face before he noticed Y/n’s eyes widen and her head fly to the side to search for something.

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, seeing Y/n’s eyebrows crease, “Your mask.” She whispered, spotting the shattered ceramic feet away from where they sat.

Dream breathed out a laugh, bringing her face back towards his, “My mask is the least of my worries right now.”

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”

“Of course, you will.”

“Y/n!” Sapnap yelled, running towards the girl as she pushed open the security office door. Y/n locked her arms around Sapnap’s shoulders as they embraced, the pair giggling in disbelief.

“How have you guys not been kicked out yet? The fire’s out.” Dream said, closing the door behind them. George shrugged, “Paid ‘em off.” Dream snorted in response.

When Y/n pulled away from Spanap, she hugged George, who was eagerly waiting behind them.

“Don’t do that ever again. You left me with two dumbasses for so long,” George mumbled. Y/n felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed George tighter, “I missed you guys so much.”

And after a teary reunion, the group sat around the desk in the middle of the room.

“Where’s the big man himself?” Sapnap nervously laughed, dread ate at his conscience at the thought of Schlatt coming after them again.

“Schlatt’s dead.” The news had George raising his eyebrows and pushing his head forward, “Huh? Sorry? What?”

“He’s dead, Y/n killed him.” Dream stated, earning a small smile from Sapnap that Y/n laughed at. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Sapnap’s reaction made me giggle.”

The group shared a collective rumble of laughter before Dream suggested they went back to the motel.

“Hey,” Dream whispered at Y/n when she passed him, gently grasping her elbow. “You guys go ahead, I just need to speak with Y/n,” He continued, waving the boys in the direction of the car. George and Sapnap shared a knowing look and tried their best to conceal their cheeky smiles.

“What’s up with them?” Y/n asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the boys. Dream shook his head slightly, “No clue.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you are. You know, after everything.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m okay, I think. I don’t think anything’s really hit me yet.” Dream sighed in response.

Y/n sucked her lips between her teeth, throwing her arms around Dream’s neck in a hug. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Thank you,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking with emotion. Dream’s heart clenched at the sound and tightened his grip around her.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, you know that,” He murmured, hiding his reddening face in her neck. He flushed, even more, when he felt her lips against his neck, “I love you, so much, Dream.”

Dream’s heart skipped a beat before he pulled his head from her neck. His green eyes looked into hers, the closeness of them making Y/n inhale sharply.

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?” He replied, his voice low. Y/n nodded shortly, inching her lips up to his.

“Kiss me.” She muttered, nudging his nose with hers. Dream laughed breathy before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers.

Their bodies had become flushed against one another, her hips against his as they shared a heated kiss. Dream pulled away first, his cheeks pink and his lips plump. Y/n whined silently, bouncing in her heels at the loss of his lips.

Dream smiled widely at her, “I guess I want you more than I thought I did.” Y/n gasped, taking her hand from his neck to slap his chest, giggling like a schoolgirl at his teasing.

“Shut up, you’ve wanted me since you met me,” She said to which Dream nodded.

“You got that right, baby.”

Feedback is greatly appreciated, always xoxo

#dream smp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream was taken #dream was taken imagine #dream was taken x reader #dream x reader #dream team imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #dream imagine #dream was taken imagines #minecraft imagine #dream smp x reader #sapnap imagine #georgenotfound imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken x reader

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Benny Watts/The Queens Gambit imagines - From Pawn to Pen Part 4

AN: I’m sorry I missed posting last week. I’m currently going through a hard break up and it’s really taking a lot of energy out of me so I struggle to write at the moment.

Overall Summary: You’re a young journalist for Chess Review, with a love for chess and a desire for knowledge. One day at a tournament, you come across the famous Benny Watts...

In this chapter: You return to Boston for the week.

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Benny Watts x Fem!reader

Word Count: 1,940

Warnings: Some strong language

You smiled as you looked at the copies of ‘Chess Review’ on the racks.

Your first front page piece for Chess Review.

They had used one of the pictures of Benny that you had taken at the hotel and you were pretty proud of your photography skills.

You picked up a copy and took it inside to pay for it.

On second thought, you picked up two so you could mail one to Angelie.

You left the store quickly after and started to walk back to your apartment.

Boston was busier than you had remembered and you finally had some time to sort out the apartment after your article went down well with the big man.

You opened the door to your apartment and put down your groceries on the kitchen counter top.

The last tenant hadn’t left the place in too bad a state, just a carpet stain here and there and a broken lamp.

You had bought some paint to redecorate your living room and bedroom since it seemed too boring after where you lived in Paris. You had spent the last couple days painting and then you finally left to go check out your title page.

The books that Benny had given you were still on your small two person dining room table where you had left them when you first got back. You looked over at them and furrowed your brow as you thought about whether you are actually going to bother to read them or not.

Your phone started to ring and your frown disappeared when you realised it was probably Angelie. No one else had your number besides your work.

“Hello?” You answered it, taking the phone off the wall as you leant beside it.

“Miss (Y/L/N)?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere after listening to it so much over the last tournament.

“Benny Watts?” You asked, almost in shock.

“Have you read those books I leant you yet?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm it was him.

“It’s been four days.” You told him flatly.

“You could’ve easily gotten through at least two of them by now.” Benny challenged you which caused you to shake your head (even though he couldn’t see).

“You know, Benny Watts, I do have a life to live.” You defended yourself to which Benny found amusing.

“So, you’re back in Boston since you picked up this phone.” Benny changed the subject completely.

“How did you even get this number?” You asked, genuinely curious and a little worried.

“You really think Chess Review won’t hand over your telephone number to their favourite US chess player?”

“You got it from Beth Harmon then?” You teased the boy to which he responded with a dry laughter.

“Ha Ha. Very funny.” Benny retorted, “If you’re in Boston, it means you currently aren’t working. Fancy an educational trip to New York City?”

“Benny, I told you. I’m not coming to New York.” You reminded him about how you declined previously when he asked.

“Come on, just for the weekend? We’ll play some chess, do some tourist shit and eat some food?” Benny asked, trying his best to persuade you Benny Watts style.

“I’ve also told you before that I don’t play.” You felt a small bubble of excitement in your stomach as you considered going to New York but you quickly squashed it down.

“What are you afraid of?” Benny asked. Deja Vu.

“Why are you pushing this?” You closed your eyes as you let your head roll back to press against the wall.

“Because I see that same light that’s in Beth Harmon, that’s in every decent chess player when you see a chess board.” Benny confessed to you.

“I’m sorry, Benny. You’ll just have to find someone else to play with. I don’t want to be apart of this little game.” You hung up the phone with a sad sigh before Benny could respond.

You found yourself looking at the books again.

You picked up Benny’s and you opened it...

“I’ve been waiting all day for your call.” You half scolded Angelie as you answered the call.

You heard Angelie’s laughter through the phone and it made you home sick.

“Je suis désolé!” Angie apologised. “This new project has me so busy, constantly on set, costume changes, make up changes, redoing scene..!”

“It sounds awful.” You chuckled,

“It is! You wouldn’t understand... You’re just a big time American journalist.” Angelie pouted. “Anyway, how are you?”

“I’m okay.” You lied.

“Menteuse!” Angelie called you out. “Tell me the truth. What is bothering you, Mon Cher?”

“Benny Watts called me today.” You had filled her in on the tournament with him once you had first arrived back in Boston and she had already previously told you off for not taking his offer to New York.

“He did?!” Angie gasped.

“Yes, he did. He got my number through work and called me to ask if I had read the books he gave me which I haven’t because it’s been less than a week since. the tournament.” You explained.

“That boy is in love with you, I am telling you now.” Angie was always the hopeless romantic type. It’s how she has had her heart broke so many times.

“The boy wants to play chess with me to assert his masculine dominance over me and boost his ego with an easy win.” You argued.

“You are always so negative about men! You hardly know this one!” Angelie groaned.

“He’s Benny Watts. That’s all I need to know.”

“I think you should go to New York and meet with him.” Angelie told you. You hadn’t even informed her about the fact he asked you again.

“I think I should stay here and enjoy my first weekend off in six months.” You shook your head at the idea.

“(Y/n), you only live once and how many girls are invited to New York by the Benny Watts?!”

“Probably quite a lot.” You knew Angie was only trying to hype you up but you couldn’t help but knock her down.

“Even if that is so. You could probably get another article out of it. Benny Watts and his life in the big apple?” Angie suggested.

“I’m sure ‘LIFE’ has already done that piece before.” You pushed another idea aside.

“Trust me, (Y/n). You need to stop being so afraid of the unknown and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself?” Angelie had had enough of the negativity from you at this point.

There was a sudden knock at your door.

“I’m sorry, Angie. Someone’s just knocked on my door, I’ll have to call you back.” You looked over at your front door and wondered who it could be.

“Ça va. Call me back!” She told you as the knock occurred again.

“Je t'aime.” You hung the phone back up on the wall and went over to your door.

You opened it and you felt your face go white at the sight of who stood there.

“Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Benny Watts.

BENNY WATTS.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Well, you wouldn’t come to me so I came to you.” Benny shrugged.

“You can’t just stalk someone. This isn’t okay. This isn’t cute!” You were bewildered.

“This isn’t stalking. It’s simply coming to Boston to visit a friend.” He defended himself as he stood out in the hallway.

“I wouldn’t call us friends, Benny.” You scoffed.

“Ouch.” Benny put his hand on his heart.

You went to close your door on him but Benny stopped you.

“Wait.” He pleaded. His cocky demeanour suddenly dropped. “Look, I know this is weird but I really wanted to see you.” Benny started to explain.

“I––” He cut you short.

“–– This isn’t some game. I just want to help you. I want you to play chess again. I want you to play with me.” Benny stayed with his hand against the door and his foot in the gap as he spoke.

“This is crazy, Benny.” You told him, your eyes locked on his as you felt your heart race.

“I know.” Benny stepped back. “I’m staying in the hotel down the block. I’ll be here all weekend. If you don’t want to see me, then don’t. But if you change your mind. I’ll be around.”

You watched him back away from the door and head back down the stairs.

Benny fucking Watts.

You rushed back to the phone and dialled Angelie’s number.

“Bonjour?” She answered,

“You’ll never guess who was at the door.”

You ended up tossing and turning all night.

You caved in at around 3am and started to read Benny’s book again.

You finished it by the time the sun was rising.

You had a cold shower to wake you up at around 9am and then you stared in the mirror as the thoughts racked your brain.

You walked over to your chess set that rested on the dresser top and you took it over to your bed, opening it up.

You set up the board and stared at it.

You picked up the queen. The same queen that Benny had held in the photo you took.

You caved.

You dressed and did simple make up before heading to the hotel that Benny had told you he was staying.

“I’m looking for Mr Benny Watts.” You asked the elderly lady at the front desk.

“He’s staying in room 306 but I’m almost certain I saw him leave about an hour ago for breakfast.” She informed you.

You thanked her then sighed.

You left the hotel lobby and started down the street. There was plenty of places to eat around the hotel, you almost considered just waiting in the lobby for him to return.

Then you saw it.

Through a window of a small diner.

The famous black hat.

You pushed open the diner door and walked towards the booth where Benny was sat.

He had his back to you but he didn’t seem surprised to see you when you sat down opposite him.

“Morning.” He greeted you as he munched on some pancakes.

“I won’t play chess with you.” You stated. “I won’t play chess with you but I will spend the weekend with you and you can talk about it.”

Benny remained silent as his brown eyes watched you carefully.

“I finished your book.” You told him. “I'm ready to learn.”

Benny placed his knife and fork down, picking up the napkin beside his plate to wipe his mouth.

“Great.” He nodded, interlinking his fingers above his food as he elbows rested on the table. “Let’s begin.”

(WHAT HAPPENS NEXT HERE)

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arosebyanyother-name · 2 years

Text

Sometimes When I Get to Thinking part 2

4270 words

Part 2 is out! + I hope you all enjoy!

Warning: this one is full of smut :)

Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!

Your third day in Deadwood you sleep late, eager to escape any pain you may feel when you wake, but the noise from the buffet downstairs wakes you before long; there was always someone having an argument with someone else. You’re beginning to think staying at the inn didn’t have an up side; sure you have a warm bed, as uncomfortable as it is, but having to deal with that insufferable Farnum, and the grotesque food, and those goddamn stairs was bound to send you over the edge sooner or later. At around noon you rise and get yourself ready like you do every day, dressing and putting your hair into a loose plait. Deadwood certainly lacked decorum, so you didn’t have to pay such special attention to your looks as you did in big cities or regular towns, where rumours of such aesthetic debauchery would spread like wild fire, but even in Deadwood you find yourself wanting to look your best... to look your best for the doc. You can’t wait to see him later in the evening, to feel his hands against your skin again. The previous night had almost been too much for you to handle, and you had to take care of your urges solo in your bed after saying goodbye to the doc for the night.

As you’re pulling your thigh high stockings up and clipping them onto your garter belt, right leg propped up on your bed, you hear a knock at your door.

“One moment!” you call out, but before you can even take your leg down from the bed Farnum stumbles into your room, leaving the door hanging wide open. “You slimy bastard,” you exclaim as he looks you over, eyes wide.

“It was an honest mistake miss, my hand just slipped, I swear,” he tries to explain, staring at your legs. You’re not sure whether to believe his excuse, and picking up your knife from your bedside table now, you step forward, pointing it at him.

“It’d be wise of you to leave my room now, and close the door on your goddamn way out,” you say firmly, and he does as you say, apologising profusely as he backs out of your room. If it wasn’t for the fact that Farnum’s inn was the only inn in the camp you’d have gotten out of there quick smart, but Farnum’s only saving grace, unfortunately for you, was that he did own the only inn in town, so at least for now you’re stuck there.

Heading downstairs with your cane and your cards you avoid the buffet, instead making your way to the Gem, in the hope that someone somewhere in Al’s establishment might have something remotely edible for you to consume. You take a seat at the bar, making yourself comfortable as Dority makes his way over to you.

“Same as yesterday, if you have it,” you say to him, sweet smile on your face. He brings you some fresh bread this time, and canned pears, then pours you a drink. “Between you and me, that Farnum... well I’d like to kill him, I swear to you I would,” you laugh lightly, more in disbelief at your own words than anything else, as you begin to eat.

“I’d do it for you, that is if I was allowed to,” Dority replies, far too seriously for your own comfort. Your eyes widen as you take a drink of your whisky.

“Oh no, I’m sure it wouldn’t come to that Dority, but I appreciate the sentiment. Think I just need to move out of the inn, sooner rather than later.”

You tell Dority about your cards, and to your surprise he’s more than eager for you to do a reading for him. It seems to you he’s anxious about the longevity of his future. As you’re shuffling your cards you hear a voice yelling from upstairs, and you quickly realise it’s that of Doc Cochran’s.

“Oh, get her name out of your goddamn mouth Al! And leave her the fuck alone!” he yells as Al’s office door swings open and he steps out.

“It seems the impenetrable doctor has finally gone sweet on someone. She obviously possesses something my whores don’t,” Al exclaims, laughing as they descend the stairs. You turn from your seat at the bar, laying eyes on the doc, wondering who they were talking about, and if it could be you. You couldn’t be sure either way. Almost as if against your will a smile appears on your face, and you wave to the man, who also smiles as he sees you, but goes back to his serious old self within seconds, sustaining his hard exterior.

“How’re you doc? Did you sleep w-“ you begin, but are interrupted.

“Come for your treatment tonight, don’t forget,” the doc tells you quickly, walking right past you and out of the Gem. You turn back to Dority, a sour look on your face. What could you possibly have done to warrant that kind of response from the doc, you wonder to yourself. Al walks up behind you, placing a hand on your left shoulder.

“It seems you have an admirer,” he comments through his sly scheming smile.

“Me?” you ask as you turn to him, eyebrows furrowed, your face reddening slightly. “I don’t mean any offence, but I hope to god it’s not you.”

“Me? No. You’re far too intellectual for my taste, dear,” Al replies, his tone taking a patronising turn. You continue to shuffle your cards, and the tower flies out of the deck, landing on the bar top. You pick it back up quickly and put all your cards back into their pouch, attaching it to your belt as you stand.

“Be careful Dority, the cards are telling you to watch your back. Make sure you’re weary and don’t get fucked over, because if you do it could end very very badly for you, and everyone involved,” you tell him, grabbing your cane. “I hope the reading covers the fee for the food, and thank you for your company Dority,” you say as you begin to walk out. “Goodbye Mr Swearengen,” you add.

“Goodbye, and enjoy your appointment with the doc,” Al calls out, teasing you. You huff as you walk back to the inn, and take any frustrations you have about the goddamn men in this goddamn town out on that piece of wood Doc Cochran has bought you the day before as you begin to carve it with the same knife you threatened Farnum with earlier. You’d considered leaving the discarded wood shavings on the floor of your room for Farnum to clean up himself, but seeing as you wanted him to harbour no ill will against you, out of fear of not knowing what he’s capable of, you decide against it, collecting the shavings in the previously vomit filled bowl in your room.

You spend most of the afternoon carving that cane, and the beginning of the evening with Merrick in his newly erected newspaper office. You’re happy to be in the presence of the mild mannered, if overbearing man, happy to hear him talk, just as he is happy to talk. It takes your mind off of other things momentarily, like the possibility that it was in fact the doc who was sweet on you, a possibility that in your mind was becoming more and more plausible. You pass a few hours with Merrick, sitting when your legs hurt and standing when your back hurts, an annoyingly constant cycle that, no matter what the treatment, you’ve never been able to put an end to. Sometimes, when the pain is real bad, you find yourself wishing that the inside pain would show on the outside, just so people will know, just so people will believe you. The curse of chronic pain, you think to yourself as you stand again, is the never knowing; never knowing what was going on inside your body, never knowing when whatever was causing the pain would become so irreversibly bad you’d die.

The pain growing in your legs brings you out of your deep thoughts and back into reality.

“Do you have the time, Mr Merrick?” you ask, suddenly noticing how dark it is outside.

“It has just turned 6pm,” Merrick replies, checking his watch.

“I’ve enjoyed my time with you immensely, but I have an appointment with Doc Cochran I must keep,” you say, walking to the door.

“Come by any time, it’s always a pleasure to converse with you, and if you don’t mind I’d like to interview you about your thoughts on our humble town next we meet,” he says as you walk out the door and down the dark street. You nod in acknowledgement and wave him goodbye, hoping he’s seen. When you make it to the docs door you have to take a moment to compose yourself. Sometimes even walking takes the wind out of you. Eventually you knock, and only hear a grunt in response.

“Doc?” you call, opening the door ajar and peeping in. You see him sitting on the end of his bed, leaning on his legs, bottle in hand, dressed only in pants, shirt and suspenders, his sleeves rolled up. “Are you unwell or just drunk?” you ask as you step in, walking over to him.

“Drunk,” he replies, word slightly slurred.

“Okay, well that’s good to know,” you say, sitting next to him on his bed and laying your cane on the floor. “I’m guessing you forgot about our appointment. If you’re not up to it I can come back tomorrow,” you suggest, and he shakes his head profusely, turning to you.

“I’m not that fucking drunk. How’s the pain today?” the doc stands, placing the bottle on a table before beginning to lift your skirt up. His abruptness startles you momentarily, but it also arouses you immensely. You imagine he’s eager to see under your clothes again, to touch you, and in truth he is, his inhibitions temporarily tempered by the booze.

“The pain still isn’t so good doc,” you reply, gathering your skirt up in your arms as he begins to pull down your panties. The excitement of your body is unignorable now, as a rush of warmth comes over you, your heat becoming slick. The doc notices instantly, looking to your naked pussy before looking to you, then back down again. Your breathing has noticeably quickened, as has his. “Who... who were you talking to Swearengen about today?” you ask, looking into his eyes, searching for an answer in them. He places a hand on your knee, kneeling down in front of you, and you open your legs ever so slightly. “If it was me, which I suspect it was, please don’t hesitate to tell me so.”

“It was,” he replies, looking up at you, letting his hand crawl up to your thigh. “I... I don’t mean to be crass (Y/N), but I’d like to go down on you,” he states, waiting for your reaction.

“I’d like that very much doc,” you reply, and reach down to him, caressing his face softly before running your fingers through his hair. The doc removes his glasses, placing them on the table with the bottle, and you lie back on the bed, spreading your legs further. With both hands he feels up both of your thighs, squeezing them softly and placing them over his shoulders as he positions his face between your legs.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, his face painfully close to your cunt. You can feel his breath on you, and you shudder, bracing yourself for the docs lovemaking. “And feel free to call me Amos when we’re alone, if you’d like,” he finishes speaking, beginning to lay soft wet kisses on your thigh, trailing them closer and closer to your slick heat until he’s kissing at your clitoris.

“O-okay Amos,” you say, biting down on your bottom lip. The doc is attentive in his lovemaking, and pleasures you just right. You think all those anatomy classes he must have taken sure have paid off. Reaching down you run your fingers through his curls again, arching your back slightly now. He’s slow, paying almost no mind to your climax, only to your present pleasure, but you’re sure he’ll get you there. Your soft breathy moans make him almost painfully hard, precum flooding his pants, and his grunts against your cunt send you closer and closer to your steadily approaching climax. With his hands he’s kneading at your ass and your hips, massaging them, ensuring that you’re comfortable in the position you’re currently occupying. The doc’s facial hair only adds to the stimulation, causing your legs to tense every now and then at the sensation of his coarse whiskers brushing over your thighs, your labia. He’s only been at it for a few minutes, but you’re losing control. Unable to hold off your climax any longer you take a fist of his hair in one hand, not pulling too tight, and a fist of his bed sheets in the other as your breath quickens even more. The doc reaches up, running a hand over your belly. He can feel how close you are and quickens his pace, matching it to the rhythm of your breath. He sucks at your clitoris harder, moving his tongue around in circles. His expert technique combined with the simple orgasmic thought of Doctor Cochran being between your legs, powerful and assertive in his mannerisms, and pleasuring you, sends you into an episode of utter and complete debauchery.

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cry out, moaning loud as you possibly can as your legs tense, lifting up from the docs shoulders against your will. Your back arches, your eyes squeeze shut, and your cunt clenches and pulses aggressively as the doc sucks you through your truly earth shattering orgasm. “Amos, Amos, Amos!” you moan between breaths, moving your hand from his hair, placing it around your neck and squeezing delicately. The doc watches you from his seated position between your legs, a satisfied smile on both of your faces. He leans back down, licking the remainder of your wetness from you as you thank him in a whisper over and over and over again, consumed by the sinful pleasure his mouth has brought you.

Just as your climax is beginning to die down you hear a knock at the docs door, and before either of you can call out Al Swearengen bursts in, the reverend’s lifeless body flung over his shoulder. The doc recoils and stands, and you pull the skirt of your dress down to cover yourself as you sit up.

“He passed,” Al says, carrying him in and giving both of you the once over. The doc walks over to him as Al drops the reverend onto the small bed he was occupying the day before. A smirk appears on his face as he begins to speak again. “You have cum on your face doc.”

The doc begins to wipe at his moustache with his hand. You stand and walk over to him, taking a handkerchief out of your pocket, using it to wipe him off, laughing lightly to yourself, and once he’s clean again you lay a kiss on his lips, which he leans into.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Al comments, walking to the door.

“Wait Mr Swearengen, before you leave, I’m guessing you have Farnum under your thumb,” you say.

“You’ve very observant,” he says, weary of what you’ll say next.

“Well then, I’m also guessing you asked him to check me out, to find things out about me, and before you answer let me just say that firstly, if you want to know anything about me, you can just ask, I’m not one to lie... and secondly, the method Farnum used to check me out was to burst into my room uninvited whilst I was dressing this morning.”

“He fucking did what?!” Doc Cochran snaps, taking another drink from his bottle. You lay a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.

“All I’m asking, Mr Swearengen, is that you reel him in a little,” you finish, and Al nods to you, flashing you a genuine smile, before walking out of the docs residence, closing the door behind him.

“If I hadn’t sworn an oath to heal and care for people I swear I’d teach that E.B a lesson,” the doc tells you, turning to you.

“And if you did teach him a lesson, you wouldn’t be the man I think you are Amos. Men I can usually handle myself, I’ve had plenty of practice,” you say, smiling to him. “I have to thank you for the care you’ve taken with me... a-and for the pleasure you’ve brought me. I’m more than glad my reading came true,” you tell him, sitting on his bed again, stretching your legs out in front of you and massaging them with your hands. The doc fetches the ointment and sits next to you on the bed, taking both your legs in his lap, unbuckling and pulling down your stockings.

“It has been documented that a woman’s orgasm can actually help to alleviate pain associated with her moons, ovulation, and things of the sort,” he tells you as be begins to rub the ointment into your legs. A palpable excitement rises in him as he speaks, and despite the stress of it all you can suddenly tell how much he enjoys being a doctor.

“You need to learn to take a fucking compliment doc,” you say, a large smile on your face now.

“It was my pleasure to pleasure you,” he tells you, voice quiet and intimate. Your cheeks flush.

“So you weren’t simply pleasuring me to alleviate pain associated with my ailment?” you ask, looking down into your lap now. You’re searching for some sort of sign he likes you in a way beyond the affection between a doctor and a patient, beyond that of a quick fuck.

“In all honesty,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Your ailment was not at the front of my mind when I asked to pleasure you... and although we have only known one another for a matter of days I find that I’ve taken a liking to you, and I find that I have the desire to be around you whenever I can manage it.”

“I’m happy to hear you say so Amos, very happy actually... ecstatic,” you say, looking to him again. “You’re a spectacular man, if you don’t mind me saying so, and a wonderfully attentive doctor.”

“If I were what you say I am you wouldn’t be sitting beside me now in the pain I know you’re in.”

You smile to him, in a sort of empathetic way.

“Amos, no one is expecting you to perform any miracles. I feel better than I did the first day we met, and that’s all due to you... what say you to retiring to my room for the night? Because, to be completely honest with you, the reverend being here with us is unnerving me slightly, and I’d like to repay you for the lovemaking you gave me, if you’d like that also.”

You make eyes at the bulge in his pants, making it obvious to the doc that you’ve noticed how aroused he is.

“I will happily agree to that,” the doc says, standing. He gets sort of shy when you flatter him, or talk about lovemaking with him, but you think his mildness is mighty becoming on him. It shows you that your words aren’t just words, that they really mean something to him. “If you agree to take your meals with me from now on, here, so you won’t have to frequent places like the Gem for a decent meal anymore.”

You roll your stockings back up as he speaks, and fix your hair slightly, so as to make your roll in the hay slightly less evident.

“I will happily agree to that also,” you reply, standing and grabbing your cane. He takes his doctors bag in hand, as if by habit, and you pick up his bottle. The two of you walk down the darkened street to Farnum’s inn, and once again you’re happy to see he’s not around. The doc walk with you up the stairs to your room, slowly, helping you when you need it. As soon as you’re inside and the door is closed you begin to undress for him, unlacing your dress and letting it fall to the floor, leaving you standing in front of him in your undergarments. Doc Cochran sits on your bed, beginning to undress himself as he watches you, taking off his suspenders, unbuttoning his shirt. You lay your cane on the floor beside you, then untie your corset and pull off your chamise. Your breasts are bare now, and the doc is encapsulated by them. You sit on his lap, straddling him, and begin to kiss him hard. His hands wander up to your breasts.

“And here I was thinking the female breast had lost all allure to me years ago. I guess I stand corrected,” he states, smiling stupidly after you pull away from his lips, the pair of you slightly breathless. Before long the two of you enter into a session of long passionate lovemaking, with the doc on top, pounding into you, beads of sweat gathering at his brow from the sheer power of it all. It ends, after an orgasm even greater than your first, with you lying naked atop the sheets, his cum inside of you, and the doc sitting on a chair beside the bed, also naked, with a pencil and notepad in hand that he had taken from his medical bag.

“You’re beautiful,” you say to him, absentmindedly. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m drawing you. I want to be able to remember you like this always,” he tells you as he begins to draw, highly concentrated. You take a swig from his bottle and pass it back to him.

“Where’d you learn to draw?” you ask, smiling to him as you look him over sultrily.

“My anatomy classes when I was in medical school,” he replies, also taking a drink. He looks from his notepad to you, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You’re perfect (Y/N),” he says, with such a serious tone that you know he really means it. You stand, walk over to him and sit on his lap, kissing him again. His eyebrows furrow as he kisses back intensely. “Okay okay that’s enough of that,” he says after you pull away, acting serious again. “Lie back down on the bed so I can finish drawing you.”

You do as he says, still smiling at him. You realise suddenly that you haven’t been this happy, this content, in an incredibly long time. Something about the doc just lights you up inside, in a way you’d never experienced before.

“Maybe you should ask Merrick in here to take my picture,” you tease with a wink.

“He’d have a coronary, and that’s not something I feel like dealing with,” he replies, serious as ever. The two of you spend the rest of the night in bed talking. He loves to ramble on about medicine and the various fascinating diseases of the human body, and to his surprise you love to listen. He asks you about your life before coming to Deadwood, and you tell him a little about your less than ideal life with your father, but you mostly talk about your education, which he finds fascinating. After that he tells you about his life as a doctor during the civil war, and his stories almost make you cry. When dusk breaks, neither of you having slept a wink, you both decide now would be the ideal time to sneak back to the docs place for breakfast. He helps you to dress, and you help him to dress, and before long you’re walking down the stairs of the inn.

“Doc Cochran, I didn’t see you come in,” Farnum says, suddenly appearing like a phantom out of the shadows in the lobby of the inn.

“Well I think we can all agree you could do with being slightly more observant,” the doc retorts, and you giggle softly at his remark. Farnum is left stunned as you walk out, arm in arm. You’re spotted by Al on the way to the docs place. Al is looking down on the town from his balcony.

“I wonder if Swearengen will be able to keep his mouth shut about us,” you say to the doc as you spot him.

“If it won’t benefit him in some way to have people know about our relationship I’m sure he’ll stay quiet,” he replies, gazing up to Al with a warning look.

“I hope you understand when I say I’d like people not to know for now. When men find out a girl is making love to a man because she enjoys it, and not for money, they suddenly feel like they can do whatever they want to her,” you say, worried look on your face as you walk into his abode again.

“Of course I understand,” he says, patting your face gently before kissing you again. “We can let people know when we’re both good and ready, let’s just focus on getting some food and coffee into you now before I have to start doing my rounds.”

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harbouredsoulss · 3 years

Text

Exit Wound - 2nd & Final Part

Author’s note:

SUPRISE!

I was so close to turning this into three parts. Instead I decided I would make this one longer! I really loved writing this!

I am so excited to share more stories with you! I have so much planned.

I really really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞

If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Angel, Mayan or all of my fics, just let me know 🥰

You can read Part One here and my Masterlist here.

EZ Reyes X [OC] Amalia

Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing! Fluff. SEX.

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life. Will she save him?

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She sat there for a time, kneeling beside the couch, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he took in unsteady breaths. Angel had begged her to go to bed and get some rest but she couldn’t bring herself to leave EZ’s side.

Angel tried everything he could think of to convince her to go to sleep but knew nothing he would say could change her mind.

It was moments like this where Angel hoped he would find something like this one day. The unwavering love and commitment Amalia had for his brother was unshakeable and made him slightly jealous, though he would never say that out loud.

Later on in the night Coco and Gilly had come back to drop off the pain relief and antibiotics. They didn’t stay too long, they could tell just by looking at her she wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, nor should she be. They left with goodbyes and good luck, though they kept the latter for Angel’s ears only. Amalia was grateful they had gotten back so quick with the supplies and she desperately wanted to wake EZ and give him the medicine as soon as possible but she knew he needed to rest, and decided it could wait until he wakes.

The minutes ticked down as did the hours as she sat there, eyes trained on the rise and fall of her lover’s chest. For a time, she sat there caressing his face, allowing silent tears to stream down her own. His forehead was covered with sweat, his temperature rising. She wiped at the beads of sweat with a wet rag, allowing the cold cloth to mildly ease his fever down.

When dawn was nearing, Amalia found herself drifting in and out of consciousness, head resting on her arm that lay on the edge of the couch, her fingers intertwined with EZ’s. Her mind continued to torture her with fleeting visions of EZ dying on their sofa, blood pouring from his wounds, voice screaming in pain, echoing all around her. There were moments where she would wake with a start, eyes wide, squeezing his hand, running hers up and down his arm just to feel his warmth. To see he was still there with her.

She continued these bouts of suffering as her body fought for her to sleep and it was only after the third nightmarish vision, she had of losing EZ that her mind rewarded her with a faint memory instead of a twisted dream. It was of a time when their relationship was new and fresh. Yearning, and anticipation reaching the cusp, they had finally given in to their desires. It was the beginning of everything, and that’s where her memory took her.

Amalia’s body was wrapped in his arms, legs tangled together she couldn’t tell where she began and EZ ended. Her breathing was laboured, hands running up and down tracing the ridges of his chest. It was the night they had first slept together, though this moment was long after they enjoyed each other.

EZ had fallen asleep with his arm around her waist. Sleep didn’t come easy to Amalia that night. She was too buzzed with what they had done. She’d had sex before, and like EZ, she would have drifted off by now but that night everything felt different and it was as she continued laying there listening to his intake of breath, as his dreams consumed him, she soon realised why.

“How do you feel,” she heard him murmur against her skin.

“Amazing,” she whispered, a coy smile on her face, “but I thought you were asleep?”

Craning her neck, she turned to look up at EZ and found him just as she thought, fast asleep. It took everything in her to not burst out laughing. She felt ridiculous beyond belief. EZ was talking in his sleep.

“I love you,” she froze, hand stilling on EZ’s cheek as she heard him speak those words they had never shared before.

“Te quiero, Amalia.”

The memories were so intense, and powerful Amalia ended up crying herself awake. Though this time when she woke, she found EZ’s head turned towards her, eyes opened wide watching her.

“You’re awake,” she said, voice cracking.

“Barely.” he whispered back, wincing as he tried to move his body to face her more clearly.

“Baby,” she whined, standing up and gently placing both her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving, “you need to stay put.”

Her face hovered above his as she stood like that, trying to make her point as gently as possible. His eyes stared into hers not before taking in the look on her face, which happened to be wrought with anguish and exhaustion, cheeks tear stained with lips cracked and bleeding. He could only imagine what she had gone through within the past twenty-four hours.

She didn’t say anything for a moment and neither did he. They just stared at one another. Observing the contours of one another’s faces, making sure to mark this moment in their memory. Though EZ had no problem with that, he never forgets.

“How long have you been sitting there?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“All night,” she said as she pulled away to sit on the coffee table behind her, “I had to make sure you didn’t die. I wasn’t alone though.” She pointed to where Angel’s sleeping form laid on the recliner positioned to EZ’s right.

“He refused to leave and kept nagging me to go to bed.”

“You should’ve listened to him.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same thing? EZ we both know if the roles were reversed – if it were me on this couch right now, you wouldn’t have left my side either. Hell, you would’ve driven me to the hospital.”

They were at a stalemate both knowing she was right. Both knowing nothing more could be said to contradict her statement. He was madly in love with this woman and wouldn’t live in a world where she didn’t. He would have also stayed.

“If I had lost you EZ, I-I I don’t think I could live with myself.”

She looked at him then and allowed all her despair and anger to seep its way out of her. To expose him to it. His body stilled and he tried to turn away not wanting to see what he put her through. But he looked and watched as she could finally breath in relief. It struck him suddenly – piercingly, as to how much he had put her through, and because of that he could have sworn he heart his heart begin to break.

“I know,” he whispered, though he knew he would never truly know until he was in the same position.

There wasn’t much that could be said for what happened. EZ knew he could apologise; profusely, however, it would do no good. What he brought to Amalia – what he put her through was something he knew would kill him had it been her bleeding, damaged body brought to his door step. If it were him who had to sew up her wounds.

Throughout the day little to no words were shared between them. Though that didn’t mean anything sinister to their relationship. EZ knew once he was better, he could make it up to her and Amalia knew that nothing EZ did to hurt her was intentional. He didn’t ask to be shot. She knew what she was getting herself into when they started dating, hell, even before that. She knew who EZ was and she loved him anyway.

__________________________

Four weeks later

“No fondling the help!” Amalia said, doing her best to swipe EZ’s wandering hands away which were trying to make their way up her skirt.

He lay on their bed, wound still covered and healing. He was a lot stronger than that night. Since then, he had been out and about, though his nurse was strict and limited him when it came to wandering around. She was too afraid he would rip open his stitches.

“It’s not my fault you’re so… sexy.”

Through his healing process Amalia found EZ’s sex drive, which had thus far been neglected, had grown, and at first, she was scared. Too afraid of hurting him, or injuring him further. Though as he began to heal, albeit, slowly, she allowed their nefarious activities to return – though they were limited. She could tell he wanted more than what she gave but she couldn’t quite get past that fear.

The first time they had sex after the incident involved Amalia on top, hands on either shoulder, straddling EZ’s waist. His wound was still on her mind at all times, as was the fear. EZ couldn’t have cared less. He wanted inside and was willing to have his stitches tear if it meant getting what he wanted.

She felt like a nervous teenager again who was about to lose her virginity, unsure of what to do with her hands. She was too afraid to put too much pressure on different parts of his body. Too afraid to hurt him.

“You won’t kill me by touching me,” he said, hands gripping her waist as he ground the most sensitive part of her body onto his, “but not touching me, will.”

A small gasp left her mouth as he repeated the action again. It had been so long since they had touched each other like this, though she was still clothed. She wanted to give in and remove the fear from herself. She was close to doing so, especially when his fingers found her clit. He had moved her panties to the side and began rubbing the little nub slowly.

EZ loved hearing the sounds that escaped as he teased her. He lay there looking up watching her as he continued to pleasure her, and allowed himself to ease a finger inside.

“Fuck! EZ!”

He grinned, proud to hear his name on her lips and added another. He could feel the tension within her begin to build slowly as he picked up the pace, and knew she was close, but he was selfish. He wanted to be inside her when she came.

Removing his fingers, he tried as best he could, withholding a wince, to push his cock inside her. By this point, Amalia had stilled already missing where his fingers had been, not expecting the intrusive entrance of his cock.

“Ride me,” he rasped, “ride me hard.”

She did as he begged, disregarding her previous fears.

She fucked him hard and fast, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. His pleasure was ecstasy and that made him numb to the pain. It made him lean forward gripping the back of her neck, pulling her head back so he could lavish her throat with his lips. With one hand on her waist, he allowed the other to find her breasts. He began to tease her nipples one at a time tweaking the little buds enjoying the sounds escaping her as he did so. Soon his mouth ventured down to her chest and gave it the same attention he did her throat. He left small purple bruises on her skin. Some that would have been easy to hide, others more difficult.

The pressure was beginning to build inside them both, becoming more intense. It caused them to go harder and faster than they did before which Amalia did not think was physically possible. This meant that they had no rhythm. Not that they minded. They just continued to thrust their bodies towards one another seeking the friction and pleasure they needed to get to the end. EZ’s fingers we back on her clit rubbing furiously, willing Amalia closer and closer to her orgasm. He wanted her to cum first, clenching herself on his cock as he had experienced in the past. He had missed this. Her.

“Fuck EZ!” She was close, so close.

“Come on baby,” he panted in her ear, urging her on.

“I’ve got you,” he cooed, “just let go.”

And she did.

She screamed his name, voice cracking as he continued to fuck her.

Her clit abandoned, he gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as he finally brought himself to climax.

A loud moan escaped him, her name a whisper on his lips that he chose to repeat over and over again as his climax washed over him. His thrusts began to slow as they began to cool down. He brought his face closer to hers, forehead to forehead. Lips brushing each other’s.

“You’re bleeding.” She whispered.

He looked down briefly and caught sight of his white bandage that now showed splotches of blood.

“It was worth it.” He grinned.

TAGLIST [OPEN]: @appropriate-writers-name

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

attraction | hs vampire au

moodboard made by me so don’t use pls

Pairing: Vampire!Harry x NewbornVampire!Reader

Warnings: major mention of blood, basically a slow burn with sexual tension/teasing, SMUT including unprotected sex (wrap it up before ya tap it), kids), voyeurism, oral (f receiving) and so much more, fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Word count: 10.9k (oops)

A/N: well... hi again? i guess?? 🙃 back from the dead agaaaain 🙌🏻 okay but i had a major writer block since my last one shot and oof, was it tough... but now i’m back! more relax and feeling inspired for halloween? so hope you will enjoy this special oneshot about one of my fav brit boys ❤️💞

masterlist | tag list

Somewhere near London, UK – year unknown.

Tonight was probably the worst one you ever experienced in your life – well, afterlife –, aside from being turned into a monstrous blood creature against your will just a few months ago. Despite your new inhuman abilities, the mob running and screaming after you still gains ground since you’re leaving a most vivid trail for them to follow.

Though your heart no longer has a normal pulse it feels as if each thump is excruciating pain. The obvious reason might be because you haven't been able to feed yourself properly since you've been... reborn. And so very little human blood was running through your veins because you couldn’t seem to control the hypnosis power. That’s why you’ve been sticking to animal blood but if you were honest, it didn’t give your body the same strength.

Now your body starts to grow heavier by the minute, along with a most painful throb to your fangs that threatens to turn you into a mindless monster that will slaughter aimlessly just to get fed. But that's not what you want. No. No. It may have been four or maybe five months since you could no longer be considered as normal, but still you thought of yourself as a human. And hurting any human was just not conceivable at all for you. You just couldn’t... But sometimes, even the biggest will in the world wasn’t enough anymore.

I feel so sick, I can't go on much longer...

If only these damn hunters knew I wasn't going to kill anyone...

All I wanted was some of her blood because she was alone... just a little bit...

Tears form in the corner of your eyes, feeling like a lost and hopeless child despite being in your twenties. Though you suppose you won’t age anymore now? Or maybe age in such a slow manor you will not be able to see the changes until dozens of years pass. You have no idea at all. The person whom turned you didn't even care to explain a damn thing and just left saying it would be “quite amusing to watch you struggle”.

Your fangs grit in anger just by remembering all this, remembering how and why you could have been so naive – stupid being the right word actually. Willing the tears away you jump into the nearest centenary oak on the side and climb as high as you possibly can. The leaves and branches obscure most of your body, making it easier to hide yourself as you wait in breathless silence for several long minutes. The humans bellow carry guns and crossbows, even torches with blistering fires waving in the cool British wind so hiding from them is definitely the best solution here.

They seem confuse at losing sight of you and your tracks, but the conversation you pick up with your improved hearing foretells how they believe you're still in the area. A tall man with a buff body and dirty blond hair seems the most knowledgeable and well prepared as he dictates how everyone should fan out to cover more space.

Sweat is now dripping all over your body in a way that lets you know your consciousness is going to fade if you don't feed yourself soon. So you use the little strength you have left to escape their sight, silently crawling from a branch to another to reach the next tree. Your senses are becoming dull as well and you know by now you’ll never be able to put up much of a fight if they spot you.

Since there is no one around right now, you decide it may be the best opportunity to climb down and try to get further away into the forest. However, you barely make it to the ground, crunching some leaves beneath your feet before a bullet was fired directly at you. With the quickest slam of your body to the ground, you avoid being hit. For the moment, at least.

“Don't let her get away!”

“Shoot her down! She's weak now!”

Your head shakes, body shivering in a sense of mixed cold and fear, hearing dozens of weapons getting loaded before bullets and arrows start whizzing your way, thanks the lords most of them missing you due to your astute senses. Like blondie said, you are now really weak and can’t help but fail to avoid all of them as one wooden arrow pierces through your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the floor with a screech of pain.

It hurts more than you expected it to, but you grit your teeth and yank it from your skin in one motion. The wound may not be that deep but you can feel blood oozing down your back, staining the fabric of your long dress. After forcing yourself to stand you try to keep running, but after a few steps your body succumbs to your fatigue and falls, noticing the humans have now formed a pretty wide circle around you to cut off every single path possible to escape.

If you weren't this weak and starving for blood, you could fight them off and get away but at this moment, that’s completely impossible. A man with long black hair approaches, extending his hand forward as he’s holding out a wooden cross. The closer he gets the more a headache pounds inside your head, causing you to hiss in agony, tears swelling in your eyes and claws scratching the muddy ground.

Is this the end?

I never got to really live...

I never got to properly love... Love in a way that was true and fulfilling.

A tear slides down your cheek but it's too late. Everyone readies their crossbows and guns to fire at the behest of the long raven haired man. Both of your eyes immediately clench shut, preparing for your upcoming death...

But it never came.

Suddenly, screams and several wet crunches invade your ears while your eyelids slide open the moment you feel an imposing shadow looming over your body. A broad but not too bulky back comes into view as you note a peculiar style of clothing, the vivid red suit they wear contrasting with the dark surrounding of the London outskirt. However the smell of fresh blood rushes through your nostrils, causing your eyes to pulsate and your fangs to throb hungrily.

“How dare you filthy humans attack one of my kind.”

A deep unfamiliar voice penetrates your skull, making you lift your head and discover a tall man with dark wavy hair. He slightly turns towards you, sending you a stoic yet piercing type of glare with intense scarlet pupils that causes goosebumps to bubble all over your body. You have no idea who he is but you can feel in your guts that not only he is indeed a vampire as well but that he's extremely powerful, as demonstrated from the way he dismembers two humans with the vicious dart forward and jerk of his hands. The corpses join the other four on the floor who you discover have their heads decapitated in a clean swipe, no jagged edging to the flesh around their torsos.

The imagery is whiteout a doubt disgusting to even look at, but it's even more appalling that all you can think about is how delicious all this river of bloody disaster smells and how exquisite it would be sliding down you throat. You start to salivate heavily with the madness of hunger, the extreme sensation almost completely overwhelming you but you try your best to hold yourself at bay.

“I didn't expect to see ya again thi' soon, Harry...” your blonde pursuer sighs, his facial expression clearly showing that now, tables have turned.

“I don't want to hear it" interrupts your saviour (at least you hope he is?), his intimidating hoarse voice bringing chills to everyone – you included – while still in front of you. “Leave right now, Niall or I won’t hesitate to rip off y’head too.”

The man named Harry flares all ten of his claws to life, also baring his fangs to definitely reveal that nothing of this was just for show. “'m sick of you killing my people. If they're slaughtering the humans, it would be different but this one–” He turns pointing his finger at you, “this girl hasn't killed anyone. I can smell it... You're chasin' her down for no reason.”

“T-That's not– she was attacking someone, dat's why she got caught–”

"If you speak one more word to me that isn't beggin' for your life followed by leaving, I'll rip all of your limbs before I even go for y’head.”

Harry and Niall stare each other down, the tension as shape as a knife. The human may know how to counter his vampire foe but in all likelihood with most of their numbers dead or bleeding to death, he's aware that right now he has not a single chance. And once again, cohabitation seems the only way to get out of here in one piece (hopefully).

“Fine... we'll be goin'. I know thi’ is yar territory mate, we crossed da border” Niall apologises, a hand over his chest and a small bow before telling his fellow hunters to retreat back to the city.

Though Harry isn't usually happy about letting humans go his posture is finally relaxing a bit, claws retracting as he death glares everyone down until they are no longer insight.

With a long and heaved sigh he fully turns around, finding you holding your head and gritting your fangs in disarray. It's quite clear you are probably not even aware of your surroundings, the blood shot vessels in your eyes telling the brunette your current state of hungriness. As soon as he's by your side in a blink of an eye, he bends down on his knees in front of you, pushing your own hands away so he can clutch your cheeks.

“Calm down, dear, relax your mind. Open your mouth and let me see your fangs, please.”

Though you whimper in uncertainty, that man in front of you is after all the vampire that slaughtered those humans to save you. So you still let him give a look at your small white fangs, your whole jawbone hurting as if you just got punched right in the face.

“I see they haven't grown completely... You must’ve been turned recently, am I right?”

Harry seems slightly angry, though you're not entirely sure it's directed at you but more at his findings. When he pulls back, you follow his body as he grabs a nearby severed arm and brings it back to you. His brows raise in surprise, not expecting this reaction when you whine and push it away, clearly disgusted by it.

“There’s no time to be picky anymore, darling. Y'need to stop thinkin' you're still human, so drink the blood.”

Your head slowly raises, panting as you stare right into his most mesmerising green eyes, some scarlet red from before still outlining his pupils, with your own sorrow filled orbs. Though Harry knows what that look represents, he could hold no sympathy for your lost humanity as he delicately brushes his hand through your hair before pushing the flesh into your mouth for your own good.

It only takes a second for your fight to disappear, the taste of blood that your veins and taste buds have longed for these last weeks finally flowing in your system. Like a wild beast your fangs sink deeper into the arms flesh, sucking and gulping greedily until it's nothing but a shrivelled and discolored severed limb.

The older vampire watches your irises glow with the brightness of your eye colour. In like a snap the strained vessels inside your sclera dissipate bits by bits, assuring that the wound on your back would heal after some minutes as well. Harry expected it when you flicker with your new found strength over to one of the corpses and starts bleeding it dry.

He stands here, crossing his arms over his classy red velvet suit while watching over you. Once he judges you had enough and didn't want you to become addicted in a way that would drive you insane, he carefully but still kind of strongly grab your wrist. You let a little hiss at him, defiantly, which makes him smirk in a way that lets admire his now noticeable dimples and handsome features. Within a few seconds you calm down but Harry is now holding both of your wrists in his grip

“Stay still, dear” was his command, simple yet strict so it feels like you have no choice but to obey.

After letting go of both of your hands once you calmed down, Harry cups your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently turning your head back and forth. You are not sure what the brunette is doing until he finds feint punctures on the side pale skin of you neck. The wound itself seems healed but you still have little small bruises.

“How long ago were you turned and who was it? Why are they not here watchin' over you?”

His array of questions makes you frown, wiggling free of his grasp just so you can huddle your hands around your trembling sorrow body, memories getting their way back into your brain. Memories you consider more as nightmares that keeps hunting you like a damn curse, only to remind you at each breath you take that nothing will be like it was before.

“He was... s-someone I cared about. We'd been seeing each other for a while, and then one day... H-he bit me... a-and forced his blood down my throat.” Telling the story doesn’t really make you feel any better, specially when you let Harry know that the man you trusted only wanted to watch you suffer for his own pleasure.

Seeing a newborn vampire like yourself, looking as lost and fragile as a deer into the wildness, really gets to him. Harry lived for countless centuries he forgot the exact number, but he definitely knows since day one that turning people was against the rules for the most part. At least turning someone and not helping them come into their new desires, powers and hunger. Honestly he is quite impressed you lasted so long on your own when he heard you say it has been nearly five months.

“Come this way, darlin'. The air reeks of human filth out her’.”

With a sudden but graceful turn the vampire starts walking away and finds it amusing how you scamper behind him like a lost puppy. Even your hand grabs the back of his velvety suit, like you dread the feeling of being alone. His comparison to you as newborn is not to be mean or even condescending. You are just so new to your turning that it is perfectly plausible to be scared and anxious about literally anything in your surrounding.

Harry doesn’t mind at all and pretty soon, you both are stepping deeper into the forest your attack happened for a good twenty minutes if not more. Then in front of you slowly appears what looks like a field, a large meadow embraced by the night and in its middle a quint little cottage. It looks nice and homey, but not what you first expected from a fearful creature like him.

“It's not a castle...”

The older vampire sneers at your remark and then turns to you, showing a surprisingly charming grin before pointing to the east. “My real home's far away from here, that's where the castle of y’stories will be. It's vast an' much larger than y'could possibly think, but I don't really fancy it.”

Your eyes blink curiously at him before gasping and pointing your finger in disbelief, a sudden realisation sticking your mind.

“O-Oh my god– are you from r-ro-royalty?!”

“You could say that” the brunette grins while pushing some curly locks back from his forehead. “Lord Harold Edward Styles, is what they call me. Harry for short.”

He merely cackles when your eyes start to swirl in confusion, before babbling nonstop that you didn't know and hope in the same breath with fearful eyes that he won’t kill you. Harry can’t help but frown at this, letting out a sigh.

“Come 'ere and tell me your name, dear. I have no reason to kill ya.”

For some reason, the peaceful and serious expression on his face feel trustworthy, offering his hand like a safety net he knows you need to feel secure. So after a small nibble of your bottom lip, you slowly place your petite hand in his and let him pull you inside his home.

“My name is (Y/N)... Thank you for saving me, my Lord.”

It honestly feels awkward to refer to him like that but maybe was it his rightful term? Being now a vampire yourself, you assume your “rank” is probably way lower than his so “serving” him seems... obvious, right? Yet anything that was happening since you began this new life was a matter of pure confusion to you, even more now since your new encounter with this vampire from royalty.

“You wanted to know who turned me... well, his name was Nick. I don't know if he's still around here, I'm sorry–”

“Just call me Harry, darlin’. I don't care at all for useless formalities unless y’break the rules or try to attack me.”

You viciously nod your head. Never would you do that, you still feel incredibly grateful and intimated by just being in his presence.

“The name sounds familiar as well. A fugitive whose turns 'umans against their will for dozens of years...” Harry mutters to himself, looking pissed that the enforcers in charge of catching people like that still haven't.

And so over the next few days, you learned about your new species in details and got a low down on all the rules you must do your best to follow at all costs. Harry even began to teach you about your abilities and how to tame your appetite for blood, though he commented once again that you were handling yourself well from the beginning.

Harry is for sure a mysterious man and doesn’t honestly act like someone whom is probably rightful King to the vampire’s world. It’s pretty clear he lived a long life while yours had just started. He appears to you as a ray of hopeful guidance in a world that becomes murky and malleable.

“(Y/N), dear, come 'ere.”

At his beckoning call, you place down the book you're reading and come to sit down next to him on the couch. At this point you've been staying with him in the cottage for a few months and knew what to expect when his hands approach your visage to cup your cheeks. Though it’s still a little embarrassing, but still you part your lips and let him examine your fangs like he has many times before ever since you met.

“They're just 'bout fully grown, since you've been fed regularly.”

Your head nod as his hands delicately slide away. It looks like there is something going on his mind, an internal struggle based on his body language that you get used to understand by now.

“Are you still havin' headaches and painful pulses?”

Honestly you wish to say no so he wouldn't worry. But the man likes the truth and only the truth as if the word is his middle name, and you own him that.

“Sometimes... but I'm fine right now. I thought it might be a form of withdraw?”

“You're not too far off. That piece of– person who turned ya didn't give you enough blood. Your human cells an' new vampire ones were basically fighting for dominance at the beginning, but it's clear which one will win in the end.”

Lifting his hand he uses the sharp claw of his index to slice a gash across his palm. Instantly his dark red blood pools in his grasp, before holding it out towards you.

“Drink.”

“I... c-can't?” It comes out as a question because you are indeed confused. “I mean– am I even allowed to? You're the vampire Lord after all... I–I don't want you to get in trouble–”

Harry chuckles immediately, like there isn’t a being alive that could punish him for breaking the rules. With a lift of his unharmed hand looping around your hip, he has you feeling all kind of dizzy when he clenches his fist and dripped his blood onto your plump pink lips.

“Just drink, dear. Maybe I need to start teachin' ya not to question my decisions, mmh?”

His words and your newfound position that has you sitting in his lap makes you feel bashful. You barely begin to lick your lips when the brunette lets you grab his hand to hold it up against your mouth. He feels your warm tongue lap lightly at first along his cold skin, before pursing against the wound and slowly starting to suck.

“That's it... You can sink y'fangs in if you want. The wound will heal faster than you think.”

You blink your big doe eyes at him, your face wondering without a word if all this is alright but you know Harry doesn’t want you to doubt him. Pulling back for just a second you take a breath and bare you fangs again, gently pressing into his skin enough to gulp a little more of his blood. As soon as he decides you had enough Harry pulls back and to your surprise, his wound and marks of your fangs both disappear within a few seconds.

The corners of his pale lips edge up, amused by your astonishment but he startles you with a reposition of your body before you can even realise anything. Now your legs are suddenly straddling either side of his hips, both of your hands pressing timidly at the turquoise suit covering his shoulders with confusion and shyness as the vampire brushes back your hair and leans down to your neck.

“My turn, now” his voice enticingly rasps against your skin. “We can replenish each other thi' way... though my blood is more to stabilise your vampire genes.”

Harry aires the hottest breath along your neck as he then bares his long fangs and sinks deeply into your flesh. You can’t help but gasp, but it sounds more like a moan that you aren’t completely aware of as he starts sucking your warm liquid.

“O-oh Harry–”

He smirks at your honesty, looping both of his hands around your backside. Within seconds he feels your own unsure sway, with the slow pet up against the back of his dark curls. It's been awhile since the brunette had a woman in his arms so his instincts and desires are telling him to take advantage of it.

But in the end Harry resolves against himself as you are still new to his world, and just wants to help you without adding strings. After a handful of seconds and a gulp or two of your sweet wine he pulls back, tenderly lapping up and down the holes until they heal properly and then help you sliding off his lap to make you sit next to him, catching sight of a shy blush of your cheeks and slightly faze expression.

“You shouldn't experience headaches anymore, darlin'” he begins almost too indifferently, “just don't do anything futile an' you’ll get used to bein' a vampire in no time.”

Next Harry sits up more comfortably, flattening his cream oversize pantsuits over his thighs as he side-eyes your cute expression – though is kind of displeased that you’re not looking at him anymore. But he does have to admit that teasing someone was such a nice sensation.

"I’m goin’ to make us some food, so relax in the meantime.”

You simply nod as an answer, definitely not trusting your voice since only stutters would come out if you try. But Harry doesn’t seem to pay attention to your lack of vocal answer, a satisfied expression on his face since he keeps enjoying the reactions you get over anything he does. And as much as he could simply use pressure to dominate and have you sweating in fear, all the man wants is a companion that won’t mind being at his side for awhile.

And so that's exactly who you became to the vampire.

Even after a few months and display that you were functioning perfectly as a vampire and could live on your own without trouble if you desired, you stayed. But the disheartened expression you showed him when Harry said you could leave struck a chord inside his chest. It was clear you thought he’s got tired of you or that you weren't allowed to stay with someone like him for very long because of his status.

Instantly the older vampire put a stop to any of those thoughts by saying that if you wanted to stay, you could. He wasn't kicking you out, he was only giving you the opportunity to leave and see the world by yourself. You were still a young and inexperienced vampire after all. Though the thought of traveling didn't sound like a bad idea, the year you spent with Harry up to this point had been very enjoyable. He held a most gentle yet imposing aura, which was only right since he was not just Lord in name but mostly in power. However that wasn't why you wanted to stay.

Harry had taken care of you and made you feel safe. The feeling you began to experience for him was new but somehow, you wanted to nurture the desire to be with him and make him happy if possible. The way he talked, teased, touched, held you in his grasp and let you feed off of him felt so intimate and somehow romantic.

In this respect time flew by and in a way felt like it had frozen since neither of you would show any signs of ageing. Both of you grew closer and found out that Harry was (surprisingly) a great cook, received visitors from the castle he told you about almost all the time and had a soft spot for the graceful beauty of nature. It was not that hard to tell because the brunette admitted right away that he enjoyed wandering outside the cottage, might be only to walk around or appreciate the first rays of dawn or sunset. And you could tell he took care to not trample the flowers under his steps and sometimes, you saw him watering the ones around his front porch. Some days you would even notice a new bouquet freshly gathered, settled in a Victorian style vase on the living room table. It was a small most insignificant trait, but you adored finding out those types of mannerisms.

“Harry?” you call softly with a thoughtful finger under your chin. At first you thought he was reading in his study since he had a nice little library, but the room was empty. Turning back, you check the living room and kitchen but they are both empty as well.

For a moment you wonder if he stepped out without saying – he's done it multiple times before. However you stop in front of his bedroom and get the feeling he might be taking a nap, another thing that isn’t uncommon. If he indeed is resting you don’t want to disturb him but after a small knock, you peak your head inside the room.

Low and behold there the brunette vampire is laying sprawled out on his bed, the silly thought that it should have been a coffin makes you giggle but you learned with him that many stereotypical aspects of vampires are so wrong – though it's true you can't walk in the sunlight, that crosses can cause pain and any significant damage to your body will kill you.

Now that you know he's asleep, you can't ask him what you wanted. Without getting too close you watch him sleep for a second and find his peaceful expression alleviating. Every now and then, you get the feeling the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And inside your heart, you know he was such a good man. After maybe a minute you turn back, ready to head out the room but his low and raspy voice calls out to you in a way that has you tripping over your own feet, bumping into the nearby wall.

“What is it, (Y/N)? Aren’t ya a bit clumsy, dear?” Harry snickers while sitting up, watching you rub your shoulder with a flustered expression.

From the look on your face and the way you avoid eye contact, he can clearly guess what you are bashfully unsure of if it's alright to ask of him.

“If you want to be fed, come ‘ere.”

The fact that Harry always knows what's on your mind is a little scary and reassuring at the same time because he has never used any of his power to harm you. With soft eyes, you step over to the right side of his bed and watch as he unbuttons the first few around the collar of his extravagant flowing shirt. As soon as his neck is exposed from the lacy collar, the vampire leans to the side beckoning you to take what you want without a word.

A gulp slides down your throat as you sit down on the edge of the bed. With the lift of your hands, you slowly push his pearly necklace up then press them on each of his shoulders before brushing your nose along his neck, fanning an ever soft breath against his skin with the bare of your fangs.

“I really like your personality, Harry... I-I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your tender confession catches him off guard more than the actual prick of your fangs, not that any bite you'd already given him comes with very much force. The brunette can feel himself enjoying the way you suck his blood out of his system. It’s definitely a hard thing to play off for him right now, and it has actually been every single day you shared with him.

When you had a gulp or two you then part a little and tenderly kitten-like lap at your punctures, speeding up the healing process for him.

“... do you want to bite me as well?”

Though your cheeks are a little warm you show a most candid smile, brushing back your hair to display your neck for him just as he has done for you.

“I do, but... I'll decide where I want to bite ya. Just relax, darlin'.”

Despite a little confusion, you don’t mind the tug of your body closer to his own. Both of his unblinking emerald orbs glanced your body up and down in a way that makes you feel embarrassed. If he’s not going to bite your neck, where else is he going to sink his fangs?

The dress you have on is a simple long white off the shoulder variety that honestly displays some of your skin while still letting you look sweet and innocent. Honestly Harry likes it a lot – maybe a bit too much actually – just because he would wickedly enjoy defiling that imagery in his mind. You are a kind and sweet woman, a total sweetheart indeed, but the man already found out vividly that you liked pleasure just as much as anyone else does.

Without thinking very much his cold hand raises up against your right knee, the tail of your outfit covering it. The way you shyly bite your bottom lip with your fangs is a hell of a nice image. Harry only caresses a little bit along your inner thigh before sliding his hand under the fabric, and then rest it directly on your skin. Edging his head forward he startles you with the way he tugs down the middle of you dress with his fangs, until he can see perfectly between your cleavage.

The location Harry chose is so confusing that your frame jolts the moment the vampire sinks into your flesh. Both his hands are against your body, enjoying its shape as he gulps your sweet nectar greedily. He savours your startled grasp on his shirt but the uneven pulse he feels beneath your flesh encourages him to keep going, his now scarlet orbs flickering with heavier desire.

All it takes is another small tug to reveal your bare breasts to his lidded sight. By time you realise his lips are already pursed around the closest nipple, warmly lapping the flat of his tongue in a way that feels exquisite. Like the male vampire you quickly get caught up in the moment, leaning your head back to moan and enjoy the added fray of his hand squeezing the other breast.

For a moment, you briefly thinks about how his saliva and tongue are both so warm as they suckle and lick your skin, when his flesh is cold and pale like your own. The answer doesn’t matter specially as his fangs tease your little nub. It’s clear Harry can’t hold back no more, now sunking savagely into your mound.

“O-oh my–!”

A ripple of pure ecstasy slides all over your body, causing you to moan Harry’s name not just once but a couple of times. The pleasure is so unexpected yet your arms circle around his shoulders, curving along his fine muscles but that’s when he realises how he’s letting his lust for you take over him.

Abruptly the brunette detaches from you, a small pop making you gasp but for the most part your hazy expression questions him with such want that he has to look away for his own sanity. The unhindered view of your breasts really dulls all of his develop senses. It had been awhile since he felt such powerful sexual desire for a woman, definitely way too long since his body was apparently getting out of control and a mind of its own.

“Get out” Harry suddenly growls, making you frown and wonder what you’ve done wrong. “I didn't mean to do that– I just got caught up in trying to tease ya. If you're still hungry, go find a human.” When you don’t seem to move, still shocked at his harsh way of talking that rarely happen (in fact it never happens with you), the vampire turns his head back while flaring his menacing dark embers at you in a way that makes you tremble.

With a hurt expression you quickly cover your chest, trying to fix your dress the best you can before apologising like a hurt puppy and simply scamper at the speed of the light out of the room. Once alone, a now heavy silence settled in, Harry’s fists bowl-clawing his palms but it was the least he cared about. He didn’t mean to scare you, in fact he's been trying so hard not to use any of his powers on you.

The man is centuries older than you and shouldn't care about trivial feelings you may have, but both of you had such a good relationship since now and a part of him doesn’t want it to change... though Harry has always seen you as a beautiful woman. It’s not like he can’t admit that much at last, the man was kind of bad at expressing himself out loud most of the time. What he was most unsure about is if you really wanted him or if it was your vampire senses that tells you to submit to him like that.

With a heavy sigh he buttons his white shirt half way up, arranging his long and floating sleeves while deciding he should at least check on you. After all Harry won’t blame you for leaving if you want to create space between you two. Because now that he thinks about it, never did he ever speak to you like he did five minutes ago, and repeatedly calls himself a douche for that.

The thought quickly – and thankfully – dissipates the moment he steps into the hall and hears the running water from the shower inside your bedroom. A relived expression formed on his face, glad that you didn’t leave. Abandonment was something he was used to over the centuries and had lived through many times. It’s honestly a miracle it had been about three years at this point and you maintained a good playful relationship with each other – well, until a few moments ago.

Soundlessly, Harry edges down the hall and notices the door of your bedroom open. As he approaches towards it, he finds himself inside the room before advancing to the closed bathroom door. Now in front of it he closes his eyes and place his hand on the wooden doorframe. His senses are far more astute than your own so every subtle breath you take, movements through the water or flex of your hands as they rubbed soap against your pale body... he could picture it pretty vividly. Just imagining the curves of your body is turning him on, specially thanks to the welcomed sneak peak at your chest from earlier. His fingers silently curl around the door knob, a light voice in his head reminding him once again he should stop before reaching the point of no return, that he should leave you in peace to wash up and later and offer you a nice meal as an apology for being a complete jackass earlier.

However, he can't. His senses twinge with the soothing aroma of lavender tickling his nostrils, knowing that's the soap he got you some weeks ago. With the slowest of movement that you won’t hear nor sense if you don't focus on it, the brunette opens the door wide enough to allow him a peak through the crack.

The first thing his eyes drag over is your long dress crumpled on the floor along with a soft cotton pair of light blue panties. Without waiting a second longer he tilts up and gets a completely unhindered view of your backside. His eyes follow the dip of your spine to the soft plush curve of your ass and long legs. Just observing this much of you has him gulping down hungrily but the moment you turn, using both hands to accentuate your breasts and stomach, there is no path to return to. All Harry can do is pant an uneven breath as you sway the water over your womanly shapes, washing away the soapy sheen of bubbles and suds.

The content and relaxed hum you air echoes inside the small space of the glass shower, bringing the man goosebumps of delight like a moan without sexual inclination. The more he watches your body and the subtle move of your fingers, the more Harry can't stop his own from unzipping his pantsuit to free his cock. His strong fingers curl around his girth, slowly pumping himself up and down as he watches you bend over just a bit to let water cascade down your back. An instant burn of want invades his entire body, the desire to squeeze those fine cheeks or even offer you a naughty little spank not leaving his mind.

Harry watches your hands do exactly what he desires when they pet down your hips and accentuate the shape of your bottom, like the water feels particularly nice cascading against it. Honestly, the smirk can’t leave his face. You're incredibly and undeniably sexy in a most natural way, so why holding back? His palm squeezes the tip of his manhood with excited fervor, still watching you smile shyly at the barely noticeable bite marks on your chest. You like to an extreme when the brunette vampire bites you, there’s no denying this fact as you moaned it to him many times. And Harry has a feeling you would have let him go further if he didn’t get confused about his fantasies.

The claws of his other hand dig into the frame of the door, scratching it all up as he pumps himself with the unbearable desire he has inside his guts for you to touch him. It doesn't even have to be his cock, he'd be fine with you admiring his body like you have before or stroking through his hair with that soft content smile on your delicate pink lips.

Thoughts inside his head become more erotic when he looks up at the sound of your soft voice humming a little tune. Both of his now dark scarlet eyes end up focusing on your mouth and gritting his teeth in a haze of wanting to feel those plump appendages against his girth. The movement of your tongue and warmth of your throat he can picture so vividly bring him closer and closer to the edge with each squeeze along his base and tip.

He even finds the way you rinse your hair to be erotic because you look so whimsical. A thought of wanting to devour you in every single way possible is what officially sends him over the edge, causing him to grind his teeth and grunt your name as he comes all over his hand.

His mind is so cloudy and hazy he doesn't even care that you’ve finally noticed him. Your eyes widen in total surprise, but your complexion darkens at the lewd sight of his arousal dripping from his fingers. Your head turns away before you can implode from embarrassment, hot water still running along your naked skin. You can’t help the deepest thoughts running wild and wondering if Harry was watching you shower to eventually pleasure himself to your body while doing so.

“Don't act shy now, my dear. I'm about to join you.”

At first you blink in confusion, glancing back in his direction to watch as he shuts the bathroom door to be inside the room with you. This signature showing-dimples grin enlightens his face in a way that reveals his pearly white fangs, before letting his already oversize black pantsuits fall to the floor. Harry is pretty quick to unbutton his shirt again, the soft and almost see-through fabric sliding off his shoulder to cascade on the floor soon followed by his trousers and underpants, leaving him absolutely naked for your eyes only.

Harry is the most attractive man you've ever laid your eyes on. A tall and sculptured vampiric body that probably hasn't changed for hundreds of years. With a few steps forward the brunette is on the other side of the shower glass door and wraps his fingers around the handle, ready to erase any distance separating you both. He pauses his movement for a few seconds, letting both of you take in each other’s new found appearance and what might be about to happen.

“If I join you, (Y/N)” begins Harry almost in a whisper, his eyes never leaving yours, “... I won’t ever be able to leave ya alone.”

Your eyes rise in surprise, his expression reflective of how serious he was being. For a second or two you turn away, your hands covering your face which is giving him the impression you might be having second thoughts. Though the croak of your voice and the tender expression you offer when you slowly spin back proves how you've been able to constantly surprise him these past years.

“Is that a promise?"

Without a second thought Harry is right by your side and looming over you in a possessive dominating way. Both of his hands pet along the warm and wet edge of your stomach, before gripping your hips and tugging you completely into his body. Without pretence his expression represents just how much he enjoys your whole and can’t wait but brush some of your hair sticked on your face, assuring you he can't wait another second to kiss you.

The distance between you both closes with the warmest capture of your lips that quickly becomes some passionate tongue action. It honestly feels that divine you couldn't stop yourself from moaning into the kiss. The warmth of the water doubles nicely the little fire forming inside your guts, in a way that affirms you’ve never felt such a discombobulating kiss before.

Right away Harry greedily begins stroking, groping and petting every single supple curve your body has to offer. Even your own hands note the nice shape of his back and every defined dreamy muscle. His lips curve up as he tugs playfully at your bottom lip, the gentle way you appreciate his shape really has him feeling some type of way.

“Give yourself to me, darlin’, this time I won’t be holdin’ back.”

The air of his wanting rasp meets the underside of your chin, of which Harry is currently kissing his way down. With a press of both his hands on your lower back he has you arching and moaning as he licks between your breasts. When the vampire starts to nip at your plush skin, it’s even more overwhelming because not only is he pursing his lips but his tongue is gliding all over you. The flat of his wet muscle makes sure to whirl around the ridge of your nipple, assuring it’s perfectly erect before nibbling on it with his fangs.

“Oh Harry, that feels so good...”

Hearing your honest pleasure encourages him to absolutely cover your breasts in love bites both a literal and physical way, each mark more blissful than the next. Your mind becomes so consumed you don’t even know Harry is backing you up until you meet with the wet and slightly cold tiles.

Just looking up to admire the shower water perfectly cascading over his rippling muscles – his weirdly yet attractive inked skin on full display and usual necklaces in place – is the most blessed image you could wish for. This Adonis of a man looks so perfect that you lean up to offer him your own slow and sensual desire filled kiss. Little do you know he enjoys your initiative, specially since you’re kitty licking around his tongue.

Slowly Harry begins to take over such as his more dominate nature, but you oh so don’t mind. In fact you’re getting lost in the way his strong hands fondle and squish your chest. The thumb of his left hand even circled around the perky tip, while his middle and index on his other give you some slow pinches like he’s determined to have you mewling into his mouth.

“I must ‘ave been out of my mind to wait three fuckin’ years to ‘ave you...” Harry growls while baring his fangs, pressing into the top area of your shoulder. The bite he gives isn’t even painful since the puncture is slow and the suckle he drinks your blood feels so pleasurable.

“H-Harry, I’ve never felt any pain w-when you bite me” you start, stuttering from all his attention on you. “I-I thought I was weird, b-but I can't help but want so much more...”

Harry’s lips curve up against your skin as you let a louder and more frequent moan, not only because the vampire leaves deep red hickeys on your neck and collarbones, but because his hand slides down to rest between your legs.

The moment you sense it outlining your womanhood, you arch your back while clutching your hands tightly around his shoulders. Without waiting his index and middle finger caress your lower lips for just a second or two, before encouraging your legs to spread further apart so Harry can thrust them effortlessly into your core.

“A-ah– feels so good!”

Enraptured by your praise, Harry increases his rhythm and feels the thump of your slow heartbeat. His own is probably pulsing in the same way, it's been so long since the man felt this exhilarated. With a caress at your hip for you to steady, the wobble your legs frays at his kisses all over your breasts and even a slippery curl with his tongue down to your belly button.

By the time you try to follow what’s happening, the brunette is already on his knees between your legs, kissing nonstop at your inner thighs. Out of the corner of his eye you can tell Harry is actually watching himself glide his fingers in and out of your slippery folds. It should be embarrassing, but you find that more thrilling than anything else. He’s so passionate as a lover, the attention he gives being excruciatingly euphoric whatever he does.

“Earlier” his raspy voice mumbles against your thigh before he proceeds, “I was so tempted to push y'down an’ bite your thigh...”

As he licks hungrily at your skin, you recall how he caressed up your upper leg earlier, the touch offered when you woke him up was oddly intimate. It made you bashful since it was so sudden, but if he had done as he wanted you wouldn't have stopped him.

“Now I’ve a second chance... so don't mind if I do, darlin’.”

Your chest heaves with the warmth bubbling all over your skin as you watch the bare of his pointy sharp fangs and the immediate pierce into your inner thigh. A loud moan echoes around the shower, the vibrations prickling Harry’s ears and assuring he won’t part from your delectable flesh until he gives you his most vivid love bite.

Your head shakes at how all consuming the pleasure you’re gladly receiving feels. And as he sucks the sweet blood from your thigh, he doesn’t hesitate to add a third finger into your fold, now working a pace that lets you know in accurate detail that you're indeed incredibly wet. It’s not just the shower anymore, both of you know this for a fact. By now you have no problem admitting you’re turned on like a thousand lightbulbs.

“Your smell’s drivin’ me insane...!” came his lidded snarl, some little blood dripping down his chin but quickly washed away by the shower. Harry is darting for your womanhood like a famished animal, the instant curl of his fingers along your slit having you whimpering and yanking at his wet hair a bit too hard.

“F-fuck– I’m sorry Harry” you whimper out your sincere apologise along with a moan, the back of your head bumping on the tile wall as if the king of vampires like the one kneeling between your legs could get hurt from such a small type of friction. “It feels like I-I can't breath– feels so good!”

"If you're that out of it, y'can be rougher...”

His warm breath hazes over the sensitive bead of your clit, making you convulse in pleasurable disarray. With his hands taking a fist full of your ass, Harry pushes you deeper against his tongue to then curl it up and down. The sensation of him lapping against your slick inner walls has you seeing stars, knowing a man has never eaten you out so hungrily before.

With the constant pant of your moans filling the primal space inside his head, there is only one and simple desire he has: to make you cum on his tongue and no matter what, he will not pull away until you do. It��s more rewarding than you'll ever know to have your writhing body in his grasp, not just your trembling legs when he had the chance to have you innocently straddle him, but the arousal coating his lips and the subtle desire filled push of your hands that want him even deeper inside you were exciting in a maddening way.

“A-ah please Harry, I c-can't–!”

You are barely able to tell him how close you’re feeling right now, as drool ebbs heavily down your lips. Harry is already aware though because of the curl of your fingers, each tugging at his hair in your peak of utmost disorienting pleasure.

With a gentle pat over your soft wet body, he squishes both of your breasts and thrusts his red muscle in a most detail oriented type of way. Your praises grow in frequency as well, telling him how utterly euphoric you feels and how hot the knot in your stomach makes your skin burn, bringing you closer to your end. Everything kinda rushes to the tipping point with a pinch to your buds, causing the instant convulse of your folds and drench of your fluids flow down his chin, assuring the fangs in his mouth are vividly pulsating.

It takes everything not to sink in to your most sensitive body part. Harry manages to calm himself down with the caress of your hands falling limp, feeling one curve around his ear to hold him gently where he is. With the thought of how much he needs to claim you, the brunette gulps down your nectar and even laps the slippery sheen coating your slit.

As he raises back up to stand, all it takes is a small hazy blink for you to miss completely the way Harry yanks up both of your legs and positioned you right against his cock. “’m gonna take you hard an' fast– can't wait another second to make y'mine.”

Your lips part but all you’re able to say is a pant of his name, while coiling tightly around his neck and nodding your head.

“Have all of me, take me Harry–”

The vampire most certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, so without hesitation he thrusts deeply into your slippery folds. His speed is just as instantaneous as the pleasure you start to drown in. You never knew your voice could go so loud and high pitched until a man with much vigour and strength named Harry came along, thrusting his hips in a way that fills you to the brim with every movement he makes.

“S-Shit you're so fuckin' wet– so tight ‘round me, only for me–”

His fangs are on domineering display, getting off on your pleasurable honesty just as much as the throb of your tight folds. You don’t get to see his expression though as you leaned your head back again but this time caused by a every aggressive slam of your ass on his thighs. That gives him the perfect opportunity to enjoy your neck, so the vampire doesn’t mind.

Each electrifying kiss left on your skin feels exceptional, every sway of his hips lets you know he’s a well endowed man and quite honestly just being in his arms has you feeling this way. This man didn't have to save you or take you in and just could have gotten rid of your at any time. But the instant he's allowed you to stay and gave you a comforting space to get used to your knew desires and vampiric body.

There is a part of you that wishes you still has a conventional heartbeat just so you could feel how erratic it could be thundering against your ribcage. However, even without a human heartbeat you still knew you were excited beyond all belief. Just being able to run your hands along his shoulders, maybe even brush up against the back of his head has you feel like his long time lover.

“Fuck, I can't get enough of ya” Harry suddenly growls in madness, dropping one of your legs back against the floor while he pulled the other higher up and hold your thigh, basically watching himself rammed his thick cock into your body. There’re not a single word forming on the tip of your tongue other than whimpers and mewls of ecstasy.

His speed and precision to hit your most sensitive spots are probably only possible due to his improved senses and longevity. No doubt in your mind Harry probably had many past lovers before you but you don’t really care. He always tells you to live in the moment and not muddle through just because of your past.

“You're now a vampire, (Y/N). Act like one for your own sake.”

These are the words he told you over the past shared years together, which became your mantra to feel validated in your new life. Speaking of your new desires, your fangs are constantly throbbing and pulsating for the past minute, reason why your eyes have been glued to his neck and shoulder ever since. The need to bite him is so overwhelming that you simply don’t care to ask before diving forward to sink deeply into the space right bellow his ear.

“H-hah, y'little vixen– that feels so damn good, have your fill” the brunette encourages you with no malice but utter pleasure.

In fact he’s enjoying the twinge of your fangs so much his fervour keeps increasing. His hips edge even closer while his clawed hand takes a hold of your waist and starts slapping at your inner thighs in a way that have your arousal dripping profusely onto the shower floor.

You can’t stop yourself from moaning against his skin or salivating heavily as you absorb down his delectable blood. You swear his nectar tastes even more delicious then it ever has before, like the most finest aged wine. It's a thought you can barely focus on as you suddenly toss your head back, feeling yourself reach a most blissful end.

The moment Harry senses your insides clench repeatedly, he shoves his tongue down your throat and becomes enraptured in the way you meet his every slapping movements. Heavy saliva from both of you mixes together, dripping profusely down your chin as soon as you feels the deeply penetrating thrust of his cock slam into your womb. His arousal fills you to the brim in a way that makes you drift through euphoria.

After some time the brunette parts from your kissed swollen lips, a thin sheen of saliva still connects you together before quickly breaking when he licks his fine pale lips. The vampire smirks at you in complete satisfaction while ever slowly edging his girth away from your wall, not without admiring how thickly coated in your juices his manhood is. Maybe Harry even salaciously admires the dribble of your combined arousal from your slit, but it’s clear you are feeling utterly spent and can only keep yourself up by pressing a bit at his chest and shoulders, leaning your back against the tiles behind you.

With a soft expression that suits him so heavenly, Harry tenderly strokes his hands up your body while admiring once again the plush shape of your stomach, breasts and the slender trail up your neck to cup your soft cheeks. The smile you give him proves he’s offering all the affection he is able of with the sensual touch of your lips with his. This kiss is the slowest and most romantic you ever felt from him yet, while the brunette lifts you in his arms properly again before pulling away from the kiss.

“I'll help you dry off, dear. ‘think we've soaked in the shower long enough.”

“Thank you Harry” you thank him with a slight smile, your cheeks nuzzled into his wet chest before placing a kiss there that has him avoiding your gaze and wondering where a romance like this has been all his long life.

You sit still once he settles you on the sink counter, wiggling cutely as he dries you off with purposeful caresses of your more intimate body parts. When he also dries himself both of you get dressed – you into the long nightdress you took before your shower and him back in his oversized pantsuits only. Afterwards, you take his hand as Harry walks you both out of your bathroom. It’s clear you wish for him to lay with you in your nearby bed but he hesitates at the edge of it, looking towards your still wide open door. It seems like Harry wants to escape but that’s not it at all. He is looking towards his study at the other side of the hallway where an item he had hidden was secretly and well kept.

“I'll be right back– hey, don't make that face, darlin’... I'll lay with ya when I come back.”

You lean into the palm of his warm hand that softly strokes your cheek, adding a hopeful nod. Your soft eyes trail behind his tall figure as Harry steps out into the hall, leaving your door cracked open behind him. With a little doubt forming in your heart you lay on the silk mattress of your bed and turn, rolling back and forth like a restless child waiting for time to fly as fast as possible.

It took him longer than he wanted as he struggled with whether this was the right thing to do or completely the opposite, tons of questions invading his mind: did you want him as much as he wanted you, and so should he trust you with a secret only a handful of the Royal vampires know? His hundreds of years differs so greatly from your barely twenty-five-ish ones. The brunette keeps rushing his thoughts because first, he wants you to be happy and second, he doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

With the item in his hands, Harry clenches his fingers tightly around it and makes his way back to your side. As he enters the silent room, smelling some faint aroma of lavender from your previous shared (hot) shower, you’re actually snoring softly while sprawled out in a way that takes up nearly the entire bed, which makes the brunette slightly chuckles at how silly yet adorable you are. He shakes his head with the soft expression you love so much on him, effortlessly scooting you further to one side before climbing in next to you.

For a couple of minutes Harry strokes your hair and caresses your skin, before taking your right hand and placing on your fourth finger a gold ring with a glimmering ruby jewel in its middle. Your eyes flicker open at the feeling, followed by a small yawn while watching the careful placement of your new jewellery with a bashful smile.

“... Are you asking me to marry you, Harry?”

His emerald eyes open wide in shock, skin darkening more than you thought a creature like him was capable of. Instantly the brunette uses your palm to cover his face and slowly shakes his head, the white pearl of his necklace softly jiggling around his neck at this. The breath from his parted lips tickles your skin and honestly makes you fall at peace.

“N-no– well n-not yet at least, uh–” Harry stutters, still hiding his face with your hand. He clears his throat before continuing “though this is my gift to you, love.”

You can’t see the way he actually bites his bottom lip, but your eyes notice both his hands covered in rings that he always wears. And one catches your attention, the one with a similar ruby jewel in the middle yet of a different shape.

“This will allow ya to walk 'round in the sunlight, this way it will no longer cause you any harm, my dear.”

“Really? But you said that it would always hurt...?”

“Without an amulet blessed an’ enchanted by a powerful witch, the sunlight will cause us vampires harm. That’s why you must always wear it.”

Harry lowers your combined hands so you’re finally able to see the serious expression on his face. “You must never tell anyone abou' this. Not a single soul, vampire or human alike, my dear. No one.”

“I would never cause you trouble, Harry. And I promise I'll take this secret to my grave” you respond back, arms sliding around his hips like a silent wish to lay your head against his bare torso, a motion which your lover gladly welcomes by sliding his fingers through your hair.

With a thankful smile you get comfortable, closing your eyes in hopes to snuggle with him while you sleep.

“People will not question it if y’tell them you were sired by me” proceeds the brunette vampire abasing your hair, fingers still entangled in your soft locks to massage your scalp. “It's a misconception tha' pure royal vampires are born immune to the hurtful rays of sunlight... Most of our kind think a person turned by us will also be immune.”

“I wish... I had been turned by you” you let out in a whisper while keeping your face nuzzle against Harry’s chest. “I want to be with you for as long as I'm able to.”

The vampire can’t resist but leave feather-like kisses on your forehead and hairline, your confession definitely making him feel... alive. His hot breath hitting your skin gently soothe you and so are his kisses, the sudden brush of his nose against your face bringing a delightful giggle out of you which Harry would never get tired of.

“Maybe I'll be the one to ask you to marry me, who knows...” you add, your index finger sliding over his pearl necklace with a define grin on your face.

No words could describe how you make Harry feel. Never has he been more grateful for the quick way you fall asleep just so he could hug you tightly against him. Maybe later, he will be able to tell you that, as surprising as that may sound, the man has never been married in his long life either. There has never been someone this special to him to go for it. It's indeed hard to say if Harry wants to make that commitment with you at this point either the thing he’s sure of is his wish - no, his desire to be with you. Forever.

“Good night, my love... Maybe tomorrow I’ll take ya to the castle y’ask me about all the time.”

* * *

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