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tightjeansjavi · 1 month

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the feel of coldness only water brings

A/N: so this is the unplanned part two of this Joel drabble I wrote called wildflowers. I just woke up this morning to some lovely reblogs on it, thus inspiring this piece 🥺 oh, and I also thought of @beefrobeefcal and her beefy, fat! Joel fics that are so so good while I was writing this!

~word count: 1.6k~

Summary: you convince Joel to join you for a swim in a lake while on patrol despite his insecurities

Pairing | joel x f!reader

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, angst (so sorry) non specified age gap between Joel and the reader, body insecurities(Joel), self deprecating thoughts, real bodies, natural body changes with age etc, language, teasing, flirting, body appreciation/worship, peepaw!joel, grumpy!joel, sunshine reader, reader has no physical descriptions (outside of wearing a bra and panties) +18 minors dni!

Sweat beads and drips down from the base of his hairline and slowly seeps into the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric naturally. His steel toed boots stop at the water's edge, soft ripples lapping at the worn leather with a soft audible swish. The lake is crystalline, and beneath the glass surface he sees a million different rocks, all shapes and sizes and textures. The mountain air is crisp, refreshing as he inhales deeply.

The high noon sun blinds his vision momentarily, but he welcomes it. The fabric of his shirt is beginning to grow itchy, scratching at his skin from the beading perspiration. He kicks a stray rock into water, watching as it sinks into the shallow depths.

“Joel.” Your voice carries over the water, your head and shoulders bobbing like a cork in the middle of the glistening lake. “You said it yourself, there’s no infected out here, and the water is so refreshing. Won’t you join me?”

His shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his shirt, his jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He squints, bringing his hand over his forehead to block out the blinding rays, “M’fine here, darlin.’” He chuffs out, “Besides, one of us has to be on alert.” He added, rationalizing his decision.

“Is it because you can’t swim?” It was a safe assumption to make.

He shook his head, kicking another rock with the toe of his boot. “It ain’t that.”

“Okay, so you can swim? Well, then what’s the issue? C’mon, baby. You’re practically sweating right through your shirt.” You said teasingly, hoping to see the corners of his permanent set frown quirk upwards, just for you.

“It’s silly.” He wavered, eyes casting downwards to his boots. “M’just—insecure s’all. Don’t want you to uh—see me like that.” He was never the best with communicating, but he tried with you, and that’s all you could ever really ask for.

“Joel, it’s not silly. If it makes you feel any better, you can keep your clothes on? It doesn’t matter to me because I think you're handsome, and your real body isn’t gonna suddenly make me stop feeling the way I do for you.” You reassured him with a soft smile.

“If I keep my clothes on m’gonna sink like a fuckin’ rock.” He forced out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a huff. “Y’say that now…” he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “But ‘m littered with scars, baby. Got grays on my chest and—m’barely fittin’ in my jeans these days. Should probably hold off on extra—”

“Joel.” You sighed, “I’m gonna stop you right there. Cause everything you just described to me?” You lifted your hands up from under the water in emphasis, “is a real fucking body. More importantly, it’s your body. You’re a healthy man, Joel. Your jeans ain’t fitting the same because you’re no longer in survival mode. You’re getting to indulge in a way that you weren’t able to in over 20 years. You're strong, but you're also soft in the right places.”

He doesn't believe you, of course. He would argue that it was because he had grown old and lazy like a house cat. You didn’t give him the chance, however.

“I love how soft and squishy your stomach is. You know why?”

He shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck and face,

“Because it acts as the perfect pillow for my head when we’re napping, and I love to grab onto your love handles when we’re cuddlin.’ Love to feel the way it presses into me when we hug. Or when you’re takin’ me from behind.”

“You’re just sayin’ that.” He scoffed.

“Am I?” You challenged him as you pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet in just your flimsy pair of bra and panties.

“Don’t.” He warned you, taking a step to the side when you reached out to touch him. As if he was a frightened animal shying away. “M’jus’ a fat old man, darlin.’ Don’t gotta lie to me, sweetheart. I can accept the truth.” He was on the edge of snapping, nearly baring his teeth.

“Joel.” You said softly, “stop that. I ain’t have a reason to lie to you. Never have, never will.”

“You don’t have to protect my heart, darlin.’ S’okay. I ain’t deservin’ of your kindness. Don’t know why you even waste your time with a man like me—”

You looped your thumbs into the worn belt loops of his jeans and yanked him towards you swiftly despite his faint protests. “Would you shut up, please?”

Loose pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots when you pulled him towards you and his hands naturally found your waist, big palms splayed across your damp skin. “Don’t you think you deserve yourself a real man? Someone who—isn’t like me?”

“You are a real man, Joel.” You gently remind him and slowly slip your thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re beautiful, and I just wish you could see what I see.”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed, nose twitching when he felt your hands slowly slide up the expanse of his covered chest, “that ain’t me, sweetheart.” He rasped, tilting his chin downwards so he could watch your fingers gently toy with the buttons on his shirt.

“It is you, Joel. And one day you’ll wake up and realize it. And when that day comes, you’ll look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are beautiful, and you are loved, and you are deserving of kindness and softness for as long as Mother Nature lets me have you.”

He could feel himself slowly begin to cave from your words, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, and he would claim that it was just from the blinding sun and the irritating sweat dripping from his brow. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin.’ Don’t think I’ll ever understand it. You could have your pick of men in Jackson, and you choose me?” He stifled a chuckle, dipping his chin down further so he could kiss the edge of your fingertips.

“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch, Joel. Stubborn ass of a man, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Undress me.” He murmured, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, “M’yours.”

You smiled, dragging your thumb against his jaw and slowly tilted his chin upwards so your eyes could meet, “Remember, it’s just you and me out here. Nothin’ but miles and miles of wilderness.”

“Kiss me.” He whispered, tightening his grip around your hips, pulling you in closer.

Your lips brush, testing the waters before you fully kiss him. Tasting the sweat from his brow that had trickled down his lips. Soft, chapped, warm and familiar against your own.

Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open, exposing his skin to the warm rays from the sun. You pushed the strained fabric down his shoulders, letting the shirt fall to the pebbles below. You traced his scars with delicate movements, detaching your lips from his so you could follow the path your fingers created. You nipped at the softness of his bicep, pressing open mouthed kisses that trailed down his arm to his hand. You kissed each knuckle, each callous with your eyes staying locked on his.

You squeezed the soft plump flesh of his love handles, imagining yourself using them as an anchor when you would ride his cock in the early morning hours when neither of you could sleep.

You dragged your nose against the swell of his belly, feeling him tense up before melting into your touch like a pad of butter on a hot pan. You inhaled his musky scent, dragging your lips southwards through the dark hair of his happy trail, pressing a kiss there, too.

Your fingers moved in muscle memory as you undid his belt, tugging his too tight jeans over his hips and strong thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.

He watches your every move, brows furrowed together at the sight of you on your knees between his thighs. He hopes to god there is no danger lurking nearby. He wants this memory etched into his brain for the rest of his days.

He breathes out a strained puff of air from between his parted lips when you press the tip of your nose against the underside of his heavy cock, and the drag of your hot tongue through the strained fabric.

A groan bubbles up his throat, spilling over and he presses his hips into your face, the swell of his belly brushing against the crown of your head.

You giggle, nipping lightly at the fabric, feeling his cock twitch and harden. You watch his eyes roll back, words tumbling out in tandem.

“Do. Not. Tease. Me.” He growled and you giggled at his response.

“If you want more…you’re just gonna have to catch me!” You rose from your knees before he could grab ahold of you, stepping back with that glint in your eye.

“Hey! That ain’t fair and you know it!” He huffed, already struggling to unlace his boots so he could pull his jeans off completely. He cursed under his breath when he watched you dive back into the refreshing waters.

“Gonna get you back for this.” He grumbled to himself, fighting the urge to grin at the warmth that he felt flooding in his chest.

You heard a loud splash just as you resurfaced, and two dark brown eyes locked onto you like a target as you playfully swam away.

Your giggles and his deep, raspy laughter filled the hot summer air like a song that you would play on repeat, over and over again.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💕

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gemstone-roses · 6 days

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Please

Cooper Howard x fem reader

Summary: smut, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex, choking , I know, I know, radiation poisoning? Hush, this is FICTION. Your on my blog and you’re surprised at this? No you’re not. minors be gone from here thankyou. 18+ only. It’s basically just smut. Mentions of a minor shoulder injury. No plot just smut. No spoilers.

Note: Not much background, I started this before I had surgery and wanted to get it posted, I watched most of this show whilst recovering from surgery and, off my t. I’m gonna preface this with it’s definitely not my best work, but when I feel bad I write, so please be kind as always 🥹Anyway. Enjoy. 🫡. Likes comments and reblogs much appreciated. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

I am in Spain without the s.

You’re not friends. You tolerate each other. That’s it. He pushes your buttons and you irritate him just by being in his presence. Anyone looking from the outside would think the two of you were sworn enemies, that’s not right though. He always comes back for you. He insisted on doing this bounty alone, you insisted on going with him.

Now your clutching your shoulder trying to pretend your not in pain and he is seething.

you lean against the rotted wood in the decaying structure you’ve holed up in for the night. It crumbles behind you and you huff.

“I told you to stay behind on this one” he thumbs the rim of his hat, sighing as he takes in the state of you.

“yeah well, I’m fine”. You whisper, not wanting to look at him.

“Y’ not fine! Look at ya” he steps in front of you, encasing you.

“I’m okay, it’s just a little bruise” you say defiantly, looking to meet his gaze.

“ya coulda’ died sweetheart” his voice cracks slightly as he speaks, scarred hands hovering over the thin material of your t shirt, he presses his hand gently into your shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the skin.

Your breath hitches at the contact.

“don’t feel dislocated” he mutters, his fingers still gently probing your shoulder.

“Mm, told you I was fine” you say. His head snaps to yours, his hand gripping your jaw, he tilts his head down slightly, snarling.

“You ain’t half got a mouth on you sweetheart” he tuts, thumb swiping over your cracked lips.

His eyes meet yours again and you can see the internal debate he’s having in his head.

“There’s plenty more I can do with my mouth” you whisper. And that’s it, that does it for him, he brings your face closer to his and kisses you. His other arm pulls you into him, his erection pressing against you making your core throb. He’s got an iron grip on your jaw but the kiss is gentle, slow, testing. You open your mouth, inviting him to go further, his hand around your waist traces the curve of your ass as he kisses you, you moan into his mouth and he grips onto you tighter.

“Please” you breathe , your body flooding with need at his teasing touches.

“What honey?” He smirks, breaking the kiss as his hand travels up your waist. he slips his hand under your shirt, caressing your bare side slowly.

“Touch me” you choke out, failing to keep the desperation from your voice.

“Oh, I am touching you honey” his voice tinged with amusement. He waits, keeps caressing your side, never venturing further, he keeps your gaze, watching as his every movement has you silently pleading for more. Your lips parted slightly, chest heaving. He smirks, he can play the long game if needed, he wants to see how long you’ll wait before begging.

“Just this lil touch is driving you crazy huh” he mutters, splaying his hand across your stomach, hovering just above where you needed him most. You grit your teeth, raising your brows, and he tilts his head, a lazy smile across his face.

“You need me to touch you here?” His fingers press delicately over your underwear.

You nod, and whimper.

“I can’t hear you” he drawls, tapping his fingers lightly over your core, over the wet patch that’s formed.

you lean into him, head resting on his shoulder. “Yes, fuck, please” you beg, and he your underwear to the side and presses a finger into you. He curls it instantly, making your legs buckle slightly. His free arm wraps around you tight, pulling you into him as he pushes his finger in and out of you.

“Mm, you’re very wet honey, this all for me?” he teases , pushing another finger into you, and your pussy throbs at his words. He smiles, speeding up his movements while whispering praise into your ear. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, your orgasm building.

“Shit- m gonna” - you pant, and he stops. You whine at the emptiness, frown at him before he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Mm” he groans. “As much as I’d love for you to come all over my fingers, I’d rather you came wrapped around my cock sweetheart”. You clench your legs together hoping for some relief.

“Lie down for me honey”. He instructs. You do, the wood beneath you creaks slightly, he takes off his jacket and tucks it behind your head. He hooks his fingers in the waist of your pants before pulling them down, slowly, he’s savouring this.

When he’s removed them he stands back, admires you.

“Well shit, your stunnin’” he sighs as he undoes his belt. You try and roll over to cover up, shy all of a sudden. “No no honey none of that” he tuts. Reaching for your neck he wraps his hand around it and squeezes slightly. He studies your face as your eyes blow wide, and he smirks. He removes his hand far too quickly for your liking though.

You watch, enthralled as he takes out his thick cock before kneeling in-between your legs. He taps the tip of his cock on your puffy clit a few times, making you jolt.

He chuckles. “Sorry honey, I like seeing ya writhe for me”. He leans in, steadying himself with one arm on the floor beside your head. The other wraps around his cock as he lines up with your hole. You tense as he begins pushing his cock into you.

“Deep breath sweetheart” he soothes, you relax slightly as you do and he buries his cock all the way inside you.

“Oh fuck” you choke, he’s not even moved yet and already pleasure is coursing through every inch of you.

He groans as he starts thrusting. His hand coming to cup your face, he runs a calloused thumb across your jaw as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

“That feel good sweetheart?” He pants, leaning in to nip at your ear. You respond with a moan, unable to form a proper word.

“Cooper” you whine, wrapping your arms around him, the rough of his skin adding to the pleasure he was making you feel. His cock twitches at the use of his name.

“Your squeezing my cock so damn good” he breathes, angling his hips so he hits deeper.

“mm fuck that - there- , don’t stop” you cry, the coil in your stomach building.

“Yeah? You gonna come honey?” He taunts, his mouth twitching, pleased.

“look at me” he growls, he holds your face as he stares into you, his eyes blown wide with lust as he thrusts his cock in and out of your dripping pussy.

“Keep, your eyes, on me” each word punctuated with a thrust of his hips. Your eyes roll back as tears prick the corner of your eyes, you cry out in pleasure as your orgasm starts to wash over you.

He leans into you again, his hot breath making you shiver as he whispers into your ear.

“Scream for me” he snarls, his hand snaking around your throat as he pushes into you harder, and squeezes the side of your throat just right as your pussy tightens around him, he chokes out a moan and spills inside you as you convulse around him.

You stay like that for what feels like hours. Him still inside you, his head lay on your chest as your fingers dance up and down his back comfortable silence broken every now and then of him whispering sweet words to you.

#cooper howard x reader #ghoul x reader #fallout x reader smut #cooper Howard x female reader #fallout imagine #the ghoul smut #walton goggins #fallout tv series imagine

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an-idyllic-novelist · 3 months

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Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way.

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around.

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you.

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it.

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago.

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others.

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much.

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner. They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk.

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess.

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do.

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day.

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out.

He saw you cook finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands.

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War.

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit.

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day.

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it.

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake whiny bitch.

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that.

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong.

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel.

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them.

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore.

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no.

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle.

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!”

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other.

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army. When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck.

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around scratching, kicking, and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off him and inhaling deep gulps of precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands.

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting.

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right.

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character.

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked.

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones.

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin.

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?”

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of them, they made quick work with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts.

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too.

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass.

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it.

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards.

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be.

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone.

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest.

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.”

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right. “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering.

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse.

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck.

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit.

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there?

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below, your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places.

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his.

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.”

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special.

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight.

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking.

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight.

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms.

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass.

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome."

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory?

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens.

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter.

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin spoilers #viviziepop #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw violence #tw violence #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw language #tw language #violet evergarden!reader #fem!reader #character!reader

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 3 months

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Pairing : FWB!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : Jeongin is an extreme asshole in this ; reader is pregnant ; lots of arguing ; one of those super cool fast forward moments so I don't keep reusing the same plot ; Jeongin sort of redemption ark but it came too late ; Word Count : 2.9k Request : no, but he's the last one! A/N : The last angsty dad in the series!!! Gonna miss writing these! Also, this one is definitely getting a part 2 which will have MORE angst but a happy ending.

“That was a nice prank you pulled, bud. Had the whole group laughing.” Jeongin muttered into his phone as he walked down the halls of the JYP building. “It’s not funny to fuck around like that though. Especially not at my job. I know that you don’t really give a shit though because your job isn’t as important as mine and something like this won’t fuck up your entire life, but… Ya know, can’t really have a scandal like that going around even if it is a joke.”

“You done yet?” You asked, trying to hide your agitation at the belittling of your job and pretty much everything that you do, doing your best to hold it together just long enough to tell him that it wasn’t a prank, that it wasn’t some joke. “I haven’t seen you in 2 weeks, and I honestly couldn’t care less about seeing you… But I needed to let you know, and you suck at answering your phone. I’m pregnant, Jeongin.”

If this was a scripted television show, they probably would have added in the sound of a record scratching just to emphasize the way Jeongin stopped dead center of the hallway, his eyes going wide and his heart feeling like it had frozen. “No the fuck you’re not. That shit isn’t mine if you are though.” You knew that this was exactly how it would go down, you weren’t the slightest bit shocked at the disregard and downright arrogant behavior he was exhibiting right now. “I mean, you obviously sleep around, it could be anyone’s kid. Not my problem. Don’t try to stick me with that shit.”

“It is yours. If you want to do a paternity test, fine, but I honestly don’t give a damn if you’re around anyway.” You retorted, and you heard him scoff loudly as if he didn’t believe you. “It’s not like you’d be a good father. You’re never around. We weren’t even dating.” You continued, and you could tell that he was getting pissed off by your comments, the way his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and he very loudly ran his hand through his hair. “I just wanted you to know that you will have a child in the world, although I’m sure this one isn’t the only one considering your track record.”

“Have you always been this big of a bitch or is it the hormones?” He snapped, and you suppressed the chuckle that threatened to escape your pursed lips. “And I’ll have you know, I’d be a great fucking dad. I’d be there for him or her whenever they needed me. And don’t try to be a cunt and keep my kid from me either. I know you’re that type of person.”

“Aww, baby bread sounds a little upset.” You mocked him, and you could tell he was seething, harsh breaths shooting through clenched teeth whistled through the speaker of your phone. “I thought you didn’t want to be stuck with this shit? Sounds like someone changed their mind.”

“Fuck you. Set up the paternity test and let me know when it is. If that kid ain’t mine though… I’m fucking done with you.” Jeongin hissed, and before you could sarcastically comment back, he had hung up the phone.

There was no doubt that the child was Jeongins though. You were quite loyal to your beneficial relationship, and while the agreement was that neither of you would catch feelings, it was kind of hard to not catch feelings. Jeongin was the biggest sweetheart behind closed doors when it was just the two of you together. Sometimes he made it feel like you were dating, but that bubble burst just as fast when he’d leave without a kiss goodbye. He didn’t have any feelings for you. You were simply there for his satisfaction and that was all.

///

“I told you that you were the father.” You mumbled as the test results were handed to both you and Jeongin on separate papers. You didn’t need to stay in the doctor's office any longer though, you had gotten the answers that Jeongin wanted, and now you could leave. “Do with that information what you want, but I was serious when I said I didn’t need you. You don’t have to prove anything to me, and you don’t have to prove anything to the baby.” Was supposed to be the final remark as you got up and started to head out, but Jeongin was quick to follow after you.

“You might think that I’m an asshole…” Jeongin began and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, walking faster now to try to get away from him, but it was easy for him to keep up. “Just because I don’t want to be with you doesn’t mean that I don’t want anything to do with my kid. It’s my responsibility and my right to be a part of my kid’s life. You don’t get to decide whether I can or can’t be there.”

“Thank you, Jeongin, for that… sweet sentiment. Make sure you tell all the reporters about what a nice guy you are so that all the fans will love you more.” You spat the words at him as you, quite aggressively, pushed open the door of the office. “I’ll keep you updated. Thank you for coming out today.” You started to walk towards the bus stop, but Jeongins hand wrapped around your elbow and tugged you back towards him. “The fuck are you doing?”

“You’re carrying my child. You’re not riding the bus.” Jeongin said it as if it should have been obvious as he walked you towards the car that he had rode in. “Get in. And let me know when all of your appointments are so that I can have someone come pick you up and take you back home.” There wasn’t any emotion when he said it, it was all very bland, as if you should have known better than to take your usual way of transportation.

“This is ridiculous…” You mumbled as you climbed into the backseat, but deep down, you were grateful that you didn’t have to hunt for a seat on the bus like usual. You’d be able to sit comfortably, at least for the next 8 to 9 months. “I still have to take the bus to work so I can afford my appointments and everything that I need.”

“That job isn’t safe for you in your condition.” Jeongin said, still void of emotion. “I’m going to take care of my child, and my child is currently residing in you, therefore I’m going to take care of you as well. Again, you might think that I’m an asshole, but I’m not going to let you strain yourself and potentially lose the baby. I know it would hurt you, and whether you believe me or not, I’d be upset as well.”

Although there wasn’t a hint of kindness in his tone, the words alone were enough to show that he did care. It was hard to hate him and be mad at him when acting like this, but you knew that it wasn’t because he cared about you, it was because he cared about the baby… And truthfully, that’s all you could really ask for. “Thank you…”

///

“Why didn’t you call me first?” Jeongin asked, having spent the better half of his morning pacing the practice room, screwing up his dances, unable to focus at all due to the fact that you didn’t contact him like you usually would. Now that he finally had a break, he was able to call you, which shouldn’t even be a thing considering you didn’t have to work anymore and he was taking care of everything. The least you could do was keep up with the scheduled calls.

“Because I woke up this morning and things just felt a little… weird… ya know…” You sarcastically stated back, and he hated the fact that you couldn’t just be clear with him. Everything had to have just the tiniest hint of sarcasm in it. You were 8 and a half months pregnant and his worries for the baby were through the roof. He didn’t know when you’d go into labor, he didn’t know anything, and of course, you just had to be a smartass. “So I’m in the hospital-”

“Hold up! You’re what?!” Jeongin screeched, not even waiting to hear the reasoning behind your sudden trip, he just wanted to get to where you were as soon as humanly possible to make sure his baby is okay. “I told you to stop trying to clean the damn house by yourself. That’s what I hired the maids for. I hired literally everyone that I could to make this easier on you, yet you still act like a fucking idiot. What’s wrong with the baby? Is she okay?”

“Don’t be a dick.” You huffed, and Jeongin could faintly hear the sound of a machine beeping during the short moment of silence. “Sorry that she doesn’t work around your schedule, but your daughter decided that she wanted to come out today. So, if you feel so inclined to do so, you can come see her be born. I’m not sure how much time you have, I’m already like… I think they said 5 centimeters dilated so… better haul ass.”

And that he was. He never thought in a million years that he’d be skipping out on practice without even saying anything to one of the guys to watch his beneficial friend give birth to the daughter that he was already devoted entirely to. It was crazy how just the prospect of being a parent made him want to be a better version of himself. “Well tell the doctors to shove a cork in there or something, at least until I make it to the hospital. I’m not missing it.”

“Will do, buckaroo.” He could just hear the eye roll that came along with it, but then he heard the sound of your pained, labored breathing, and the beeping of the machine sped up momentarily before going back to a steady rhythm. “Just hurry the hell up, I don’t think she’s waiting for anyone. She wants out.”

///

Raising a child was hard, being an idol and a father at the same time was hard, but coparenting with the girl that you had managed to catch legitimate feelings for over the last 6 years was even harder. How could he not fall in love with you though? Watching you with his daughter was the most strangely attractive thing he’s ever witnessed, and he regretted not asking you to just be his officially when he first found out you were pregnant. That would have saved him from the feeling of jealousy and anger that he felt when you started going out on dates.

“I don’t know why you’re wasting so much time on these low grade losers. You could do so much better.” Jeongin called to you from the living room as he sat at the makeshift table where he was currently being served Cheetos and a Caprisun by his daughter. “None of them are good enough to even get close to my baby anyway. I feel like I should have a say in who you potentially start bringing home around her, shouldn’t I?”

You peaked your head out from around the bedroom door and he swears, he’s never seen you look more beautiful. He hated whatever guy was lucky enough to be going out with you right now. “Coming from the biggest eff word boy in the industry… I think that’s quite hypocritical of you.” You teased, sending him the most gorgeous, heart stopping smile, even though he knew it was supposed to irritate him, it only made his stomach fill with butterflies.

“I’ve changed my ways. The only two beautiful girls I want to spend my days with are Jeongsoo and you.” He leaned back on his hands so he could try to see through the bedroom door where you were getting ready, hoping to see some kind of reaction, even just a smile at his flirtatious attempt. Sadly, Jeongsoo wasn’t too keen on the idea of not being the center of her fathers attention, so she walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder, his gaze quickly turning to look at her sassy, cross armed stance, trying hard not to laugh.

“Dad. You are gonna go to tea party time out if you do not play right. Do you want to go to tea party time out with Mr. Oink?” She pointed her little finger into the corner of the room where her stuffed pig was sitting staring at the corner and Jeongin quickly shook his head no. “Good. No time out for you.” She nodded her head before going back to her play kitchen. She was almost a carbon copy of you, at least in the attitude department, but he absolutely adored her and he couldn’t imagine a world where she wasn’t sassily living in it.

“Are you sure you don’t mind babysitting her? I know you’d rather be out with the guys right now.” You said as you came out of the bedroom, the little dress that you were wearing hugged all of your curves, and while Jeongin didn’t know anything about the guy that you were going out on a date with tonight, he hated everything about him. “I’ll pay you back tonight for watching her.”

He rolled his eyes, wanting nothing more than to get up off the floor and go over to you and grab you by the waist and kiss you, but the thought of being in tea party time out was keeping him from doing so, especially since Mr. Oink had been staring at the corner for a good hour and a half now. “You don’t have to pay me for spending time with my daughter. It’s not even considered babysitting. I think you’re forgetting that she’s literally half me.” He commented, hoping that maybe pointing out the fact that the daughter that you both loved so much was the most perfect blend of the two of you would have you second guessing going on that date.

“Well I’ll still pay you. I think the girls you hook up with at least deserve a good dinner before they find out they’re just your friend.” You teased, but he knew that was also a jab at the way he had gotten with you. He had only taken you to McDonalds once before taking you to his bedroom, and for that, he feels like shit because you did deserve better, you still do. “He’s here. I’ll be back in an hour or two…” You said, and he absolutely despised how giddy you looked to go out and meet this stranger who was most definitely not good enough for you.

You ran over to where your daughter was still working at her play kitchen, ruffling her hair and then bending over to press a kiss to the top of her head before telling her you love her. “Call me if he does anything weird. I’ll have a guy from security pick you up. Just let me know where you are.” Jeongin said as you headed towards the door, and while you always thought that it was simply because he didn’t want anything happening to the mother of his child, it was because he didn’t want anything to happen to you. He loved you, and every single time you walked out that door to meet someone new, he was one step closer to never being with you at all.

The door closed behind you and he let out a heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair before taking a sip of his juice box and falling flat onto the floor. “Daaad!” Jeongsoo whined when she heard his head land against the hardwood floor. “You getting sleepy? You didn’ even finish your cheetos.” She huffed softly, the sound almost like a recording of your own voice. “Whatchu wanna do now?” She asked, and Jeongin pushed himself up off the floor, scooping her up into his arms in the process.

“Let’s watch a movie. Get Mr. Oink out of time out real quick though, I think he feels a little sad.” Jeongsoos mouth popped open in shock as she ran over to retrieve her forgotten stuffed animal before returning to the couch and sitting next to Jeongin. “We’ll watch a movie and eat some ice cream, and then it’s time for bed, okie dokie?” She nodded her head in agreement as Jeongin flipped through the movies on the tv.

It was a good night, he tried to remind himself of that as his daughter peacefully slept curled up against him. The movie was turned down almost completely, the only sound filling the silence was Jeongsoos soft snores. He waited for the text from you, telling him to send someone to pick you up and bring you back home to him and your little family, but it never came. He didn’t want to go out with the guys tonight, he didn’t want to meet anyone else… All he wanted was you. How perfect the night could have been if you had been here, sitting opposite of Jeongsoo, his arm draped over the back of the couch to gently run his fingers through your hair as you both focused on the movie in front of you. That would never happen though. He was too scared to ask you now, and surely there would be someone else out there that you thought was more deserving of your love than he was… And maybe you would be right… He had let you go, and now he had to sit back and pretend that it didn’t break his heart each time he’d watch you leave.

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

Jailbird.

1.5k / Cellmate’s nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

thank you @iamasaddie for the mood board!!!

PART 2 HERE: Collect calls

Summary: Your cellmate introduces you to her hot nephew and he comes to visitation hours. A/N: Part 1 of 3. This one is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes and @raccoonhandedhottie's nerve to put the idea of doing one in my head. My masterlist WARNINGS: References to sex work, ACAB. Horny phone/visitation talk, mild/non-explicit over-pants masturbation. Mickey Avalon Easter egg.

Without Mabel, you're not sure how you would've survived your first six months in lock-up. You were cuffed for solicitation when a dirty cop wouldn't pay what he owed. He says he took it easy on you -- you also clawed him and spit in his face. As soon as you told your new cellmate what really happened, she took a liking to you. She said you should've bitten him in the pecker. Mabel had been there, done that. She even knew of the cop who put you away. It wasn't Mabel's first time behind bars. She had the ink and reputation to prove it. Her knuckles said "TAKE NONE" and that was accurate. By now, nobody gave her any shit. Soon enough, no one gave you any either.

Mabel had a few photographs on her wall, mostly of her and a younger man. Not a particularly young man, but certainly younger than Mabel. He was probably in his early forties in the pictures, which were five years prior, before she violated her parole. She was giving you a poke and stick tat of a four leaf clover on your hand one day when you asked about the pictures.

"I was wonderin' when ya were gonna ask about my lil Jojo. I've seen ya lookin' at him, ya little horndog..."

She let you stammer around in response. "No, I, I'm just, making conversation, wanna get to know you better."

"It's okay, baby. He's my nephew. All I got left. He's a neat kid."

"He looks happy to be with you–ouch!"

"Don't be a pussy. Oh, he's a real sweet boy. Bet he'd like you, too."

"What makes you say that?"

She looked up from your hand "cause ya got a cunt and you're not bad lookin'," she laughed. "Hey,” she raised her eyebrows. “You ever wanna borrow one of those pics, you let me know, I'll give ya some privacy."

"No thanks."

"Oh, come on. You can fold it so ya don't have to see my pretty face."

You laughed.

"Bet he'd dick ya down real good, too."

"What?" You asked, quietly disturbed.

"He lives with me. Walls are thin."

"Ah. That must be awkward."

"Not really! We're all human. I could even tell ya the kinda shit he says if ya want. He can get real filthy. Or shit, I could just give ya his number."

"That's ok."

"Baby, he'd love to hear from ya. Trust me. I've told him all about ya." She put down the needle and picked up a tissue to dab your skin.

"You have??"

"Oh yeah. Here, I'm gonna write it down."

She took one of the photos off the wall and wrote his number on the back. Then she folded it in half and winked at you as she handed it to you.

—----------------

It only took a week of her nagging for you to call “Jojo.”

Your breath hitched when you heard his smooth, deep voice. The first thing he said was, “Ah, call me Joel,” and you could hear the smile on his face.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Well your aunt’s told me a lot about you, Joel.”

“Yeah, I can only imagine what,” he faux grumbled. “Real character, ain’t she?”

“I love Mabel,” you blurted out.

You found yourself opening up about how in some ways, she was more of a mother figure than you ever had. Joel was easy to talk to. It just came pouring out. You told him about Mabel’s antics and the mischief the two of you got up to. Things you’d steal from the cafeteria. The way Mabel kept the ladies in line who tried to dom you. Next thing you knew, your time was up. You apologized profusely for talking Joel’s ear off about yourself.

“Nahhhh, it was nice,” Joel said. “Hell of a lot more interesting than my life.”

“Well it was good talking to you,” you told him.

He said, “Hey, call me back any time.”

There was nothing sexy at all about that first conversation, but his voice did something to you. You squeezed your thighs together when you got back to your cell and looked at the photo. Mabel kept giving you a knowing look.

—------

You started calling Joel regularly. Mabel told you he liked you a lot, but you weren’t sure if you should believe her. She seemed overly eager to set him up. The conversations were brief and casual. When you didn’t call him one week, the next time you spoke, he told you he missed the sound of your voice.

Something came over you and you broke the tension. “My voice?” you asked. “Joel, your voice. . . you dunno what it does to me,” you blurted out. Zero to sixty, just like that.

“Well damn,” Joel said. “Shoulda said somethin’. Coulda given ya better than stories about Mabel.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like whatever ya want, jailbird.” Your heart fluttered “Whatever gets ya hot and bothered.”

“Honey, you could read me the phone book,” you told him.

He chuckled. “Haven’t seen one of those in a few years.” His voice was sexy to begin with but the sharp edge of the phone connection made it even hotter.

After a moment of tense silence, he said, “Hey, uh, you notice any of your pictures missin’?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, Mabel mailed me one. Didn’t tell me you were a fuckin’ smokeshow.”

You laughed bashfully.

“Well she did. But I had to see it for myself, and shit”

“Well, thanks. You’re not bad looking yourself.”

Your time was almost up.

“Hey I’m comin’ to see Mabel later this week. Y’all got the same visitor’s night or what? Cause I’d love to see you, too, if it’s allowed.”

“Nah, mine’s the next night.”

“S’alright, i’ll come back for ya, sugar.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“I know. Be good, jailbird.”

—--------

It was visitation day and you were getting nervous. Mabel thought it was adorable. She helped you get ready. Did your hair nice. “He’s already smitten with ya, baby,” she said.

You were escorted into the visitation room and sat at one of the booths, separated by glass, with a phone on each side.

When Joel came in, you didn’t recognize him at first. In just those five years, his beard had turned half-silver. He was striking in person. He was wearing a tight t-shirt and jeans. Tight jeans. You couldn’t help but size up the bulge in them.

When you looked up at his face, he was raising his eyebrows at you like he caught you looking. He sat down and put his elbows on the table. You picked up the phone, a little nervous, but more excited than anything. He checked you out and smiled at you coyly before picking up the phone.

“Like what ya see?” he said softly into the phone.

You replied with a low whistle, then asked, “You always dress like a piece of meat?” He had a few hand tattoos of his own. Faded, blurred together. A spade between his thumb and forefinger. A spiderweb curving around one of his biceps. He’d probably done his own time.

“When the hell are ya gettin’ outta here?”

“Up for parole next month,” you said.

“No shit!” He looked genuinely excited.

“Mabel didn’t tell you?”

“Thought she was yankin’ my chain.” He stretched his free hand behind his head and you watched his bicep. “You been good? Think you’ll get out?”

“Haven’t been bad.”

“Good.” He lowered his voice. “‘Cause sugar, I’m gonna need to see what’s under that garb.”

You smiled with faux shyness, and he continued, “God damn,” looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb.

You stared at each other, checking each other out for a moment. You watched his pupils dilate as your chest rose and fell with desire.

You made small talk for a minute or two, all the while fucking each other with your eyes. But, things took a turn again.

“What do you miss the most?” he asked in a low, sultry voice. “Bet ya don’t miss the clients.”

You shook your head.

He lowered his voice further. “When’s the last time ya had a nice hard cock ya really wanted?”

Your eyes widened. “Shit, I dunno.”

“Ohhh you’re in for it.” You looked around, paranoid, in disbelief that you could get away with a conversation like this. “Ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” He reached his hand into his lap. “Fuck. ‘specially for you.” You could see his arm moving very slowly but there was no mistaking what he was doing. His eyes devoured you.

“Joel,” you sighed. “Fuck, I believe it.”

And just like that, a guard approached him from behind. “Time’s up,” the guard said and glared at you. You rolled your eyes as a guard approached you, too.

Joel said “Later, jailbird” and hung up the phone. When he stood up, his massive erection was visible and made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up to his face and he was wetting his lips. He winked at you with pink cheeks and your eyes immediately fell back to his crotch as he adjusted himself and the guard hurried him away.

FUCK. You were gushing. Mabel’s Jojo. Joel. What a man.

---------

Part 2

Ty for reading. strip club manager!Joel will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past while Mabel was on parole. DIFFERENT READER. preview

this trope actually gave me so many more elaborate ideas lmao.

------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#cellmate's nephew!joel #CN!Joel Miller #CN!Joel #cellmate's nephew!joel miller #jojo ☠️

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heizlut · 8 months

Text

Study Session

alhaitham drabble

cw: exhibitionism. that’s really it

tags: afab fem reader. dom alhaitham. no use of y/n. kaveh is mentioned briefly. fingering (f!receiving).

(part 2 here)

📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹

Cooped up in a more secluded section of the House of Daena, Alhaitham has one of his muscular arms wrapped around your waist as you sit in his lap, keeping your legs spread apart with his own as you struggle to focus on the textbook in front of you. Two of his thick fingers thrust in and out of your sopping cunt while his free hand grasps your throat just tight enough to put on a little pressure. You stop reading, too focused on the growing need to cum when he rips his fingers from your pussy. You let out a small whine, feeling empty and having your impending orgasm ripped away from you. His grasp on your throat tightens and he speaks low and harsh in your ear, “Did I tell you to stop reading?” A harsh slap to your puffy clit has you biting your lip to hold in your moan. “Keep going, princess or else you wont be cumming at all”, he whispers.

You nod your head and keep reading, trying to focus on the words in front of you. “Good girl…”, Alhaitham coos and pressed his fingers back into your drippy cunt. His actions cause your words to slur into a soft moan, making him smirk and let out a satisfied hum as he continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, “Keep quiet now, princess. You wouldn’t want to catch anyone’s attention now would you?” You subconsciously clench around his fingers at his words making him chuckle softly, “Oh? From the way you’re clenching around my fingers, it almost seems like you would enjoy the idea of being caught. Maybe my little girlfriend really is a whore after all..” You shake you head, pouting slightly, “N-no, ‘m not a whore.” Alhaitham rolls his eyes and curls his fingers up to hit your g-spot causing you to let out a rather lewd moan. He releases your throat to quickly cover your mouth with his large hand, “Only whores moan like that in public. Now keep your mouth shut.” You nod your head slightly and he removes his hand from your mouth and unbuttons the top of your shirt so he can slip his hand in. He begins to toy with your nipples, twisting and pinching them as he continues to finger you harshly.

If anyone were to pass by, surely they would hear the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt. “H-haitham.. gonna cum..”, you whimper softly, rocking your hips against his hand. Alhaitham leans his head down, licking and biting at that sensitive spot on your neck and growls, “Cum for me.” That’s all the confirmation you needed as the knot inside you finally breaks and you cum all over his fingers, your juices dripping onto the floor. Not even a moment later, Kaveh makes his way over to where you both were, “Alhaitham! There you are! Have you seen my…” The words die in his throat, eyes widening at the sight before him and he blushes furiously, clearing his throat and quickly averting his eyes, “Ah.. um.. nevermind” He turns on his heels and quickly leaves the two of you behind.

You and Alhaitham sit there in silence for a moment before breaking out in soft laughter, “At least it was just Kaveh. That could’ve been so much worse if it had been anyone else”, you say through giggles. “Come on, I think we’ve spent enough time here already. Let’s go home”, Alhaitham says with a small smirk on his face.

Poor Kaveh certainly could not get the lewd sight of you and Alhaitham out of his head that night…

📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹ 📚₊˚⊹

a/n: this ain’t much but it’s honest work. i may or may not write a part 2 for this…

#alhaitham smut #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin alhaitham

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babydollmarauders · 8 months

Text

OURS — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n and Trevor’s relationship is constantly being criticized by outsiders but they know their love is real.

warnings: references to nsfw activities, hate from outsiders, dialogue heavy, not proofread

notes: written semi-quickly, shorter than my other recent works, idk how i feel about this one, but it’s done and i hope y’all like it. ending is kinda iffy but oh well.

it seems like there’s always someone who disapproves of Trevor and i’s relationship.

my parents don’t like his carefree and confident demeanor. his younger brother didn’t trust me because i was someone new. his friends didn’t like that i write songs about exes and my relationships.

but most of all his fans and the media, judge us like they know us personally.

mostly judging me.

as a singer, my every move was criticized and picked apart. what i wore was either too homely or too dressed up. i was too skinny or too big. my heels were too tall, but then my nike’s were too ‘tom-boyish’. but the judgement had only seemed to get worse once i started dating Trevor.

suddenly his fans were saying i wasn’t good enough for him. analyzing our body language in photos and claiming that i didn’t act like i liked him. saying i was using him to further my fame.

but on the other side, i had my fans commenting that i was too good for him. citing his previous playboy ways and saying that he wasn’t smart enough or mature enough for me. claiming his bad boy attitude drew me in and that i would ‘come to my senses’ soon.

***

y/nofficial

liked by trevorzegras, gracieabrams, and 151,308 others

y/nofficial summer with my boy toy <3

tagged trevorzegras

Load more comments

trevorzegras my beautiful girl, you were off to a great start in the beginning and then you added the last photo

y/nofficial wdym? i think that ones my favorite!

trevorzegras whatever floats your boat mamas

gracieabrams cutest couple in the world ♥️

y/nofficial you’re the real loml <3

gracieabrams shhh i thought we weren’t telling trevor?

user26 NEW MUSIC COMING SOON?!

user81 i wonder if it’s about Trevor

jackhughes was i cut out of the last pic?! i thought you loved me, y/n 😪

y/nofficial in the wise words of Ariana Grande “you ain’t my boyfriend”

user40 the way she’s leaning away from him in the 5th pic? oh she’s over him

user95 she’s finally over the bad boy thing, i guess

user02 thank god! i don’t want her to get hurt!

user73 @/user02 HER to get hurt?! she’s gonna end up writing a slandering song about my baby Trevor and painting him to be an asshole

user02 @/user73 lmao yeah, well the shoe fits. why shouldn’t she write a song showcasing his true colors?

user73 @/user02 i’m not about to fight with a Y/N stan of all people— have fun supporting your famefucker

user02 @/user73 oh please, she doesnt need to use your little hockey asshole for fame when she’s already more well known than him

user12 we love a PR relationship 🫶

***

my converse squeak against the marble floors as i leave my execs meeting, catching the attention of many up and coming artists that are waiting in the lobby. i can feel their gazes following my every move, from when i stop in front of the elevator to when i press the down button, and i can’t help but laugh in my head; reminiscing of when i was the same way. star-struck and in awe whenever i saw any artists leaving the same doors i just walked out of.

but now, having been in the business for two years, that feeling has come and gone, replaced by small talk with those very same people that i once looked up to.

“hi.” i smile politely at a redheaded girl that sits close to the elevators, a notebook in her hand and stars in her eyes.

she looks around, as if searching, before she lets out an awkward chuckle. “oh- hi!”

the elevator dings twice before the doors open to another crowd of wannabe pop stars, and i step aside to let them out before waving a goodbye to the doe-eyed redhead and stepping into the elevator.

i’m excited to get back to my boyfriend, but that excitement vanishes when i scroll through twitter on my uber home.

—

oh- that was fast.

i can’t help but scroll through the replies and quote tweets, and by the time i arrive back home, i’m disheartened to say the least.

i thought i was being nice by greeting her? even if i couldn’t stay and talk. but apparently i should take this as a lesson for the future, don’t say hi to anyone unless i can stay and chat.

and my mood only worsens when i make it into the house, calling out my boyfriend’s name, to which i get no response.

“Trev?” my voice echoes off the walls of our home as i step into our bedroom, in search of the six foot tall hockey player. but i come up empty, finding that he still isn’t home from training camp.

i slide my phone from my pocket, drafting up a text before ultimately trying my luck at a phone call instead.

the outgoing ring reaches my ear twice before it stops, the call picking up.

“hey babe, what’s up?” Trevor’s tone is light and airy, painting an immediate smile across my lips.

“hey, i was just checking in.” i sit upon the fuzzy white blanket that’s folded along the foot of our bed, running my hands over the soft fabric. “i thought training was supposed to end at noon?”

“oh, yeah, it did.” he confirms, and i can hear someone else talking in the background. “Jimbo and i decided to grab lunch and catch up a bit.”

“oh, okay.” i nod, despite the fact that he can’t see me, and i can hear him conversing with someone.

“shh. hold on.” he tells someone. “he wants to say hi.”

i laugh as Jamie’s voice comes through the line. “HEY Y/N!!!”

“hi Jame!” i reply, listening as he grunts, wrestling the phone from Trevor, i assume.

“i’ve missed you!” he sounds closer now, while Trevor sounds farther away, calling out for his phone back, confirming my suspicions. “when do i get to see you again?”

“i’ve missed you too. if it’s alright with Trevor, and if you’re free, you can come over for dinner tonight?” i tell him. “i can go to the store and grab stuff to make my garlic and basil chicken pasta.”

“oh my favorite! i’m in! i don’t care what Trevor has to say about it, to be honest.” his response causes me to laugh, while my boyfriends calls out an offended ‘hey!’

“see you later!” Jamie yells, as i assume Trevor gets his phone back.

“did you need anything else, babe?” Trevor asks distractedly.

“no, nothin’ else.” i stand, gathering my car keys from my nightstand. “actually, i’m gonna go grocery shopping, can you think of anything we need?”

“condoms,” he replies unabashed, and i blush at the thought that Jamie heard him. “and frosted flakes. i finished ‘em off this morning.”

i roll my eyes before teasing, “the condoms or the frosted flakes?”

“both.” my skin heats up at the reminder of our morning activities, Trevor having woken me up before the sun even came up.

“oh- uh- okay.” Trevor laughs as i stumble over my words. “i’ll grab some more…of both.”

“thanks, love you!” he waits for my reply before hanging up, and i pad out of the bedroom, slipping my shoes back on by the front door before heading out to my car. i wasn’t big on driving, usually letting Trevor take that responsibility, and avoiding it when possible, so i only really used it when i had to go grocery shopping, relying on ubers to go anywhere else.

i slip into the drivers seat, huffing when i find that Trevor messed with my seat again. a harmless prank he likes to pull, just to see when i drive again and if i’ll notice. i adjust my seat before i pull out of the driveway, the radio playing faintly to fill the silence.

i’m nearly done with my shopping trip when it happens.

“he still uses those?” i’m mid-tossing the family size box of Frosted Flakes in the cart when the words reach my ears, and at first, i don’t even notice they’re being spoken to me. “he always said it felt like he was wearing nothing.”

i glance over to find a tall blonde standing next to my cart, staring down at my items.

“i’m sorry?” my brows furrow in confusion.

“oh- the condoms. Skyn Elite? Trevor used them back when he and i used to hook up a couple years ago.” the girl smiles, the supermarket lights reflecting off her sparkly lip gloss. “you’re his new conquest, right? y/n?”

“i’m his girlfriend, yes.” i nod, pursing my lips together in a straight line.

“right,” she nods. “girlfriend. you got the envied title.”

“i guess so.”

she gives another falsely innocent smile. “good luck keeping it! he’s insatiable, is he not? seemed like he was always keeping an eye out for the next girl.”

i’ve never particularly cared about the ghosts of Trevor’s hookup past. why would i be? i had them too, so who was i to be bothered by his? besides, right now, he’s mine. i’m the one he comes home to; the one he loves and talks about a future with.

“well, i should get going.” i tell her, already beginning to push the cart towards the end of the aisle, in route to check out. “it was nice to meet you.”

i was lying, sure, but i wasn’t going to let her get to me.

she bids me goodbye as i walk away, and when i glance back, i see her faux smile drop, her eyes rolling as she sneers, turning the other way.

yeah, i pretty much expected that.

i’ve just made it into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter, when my phone begins to ring, buzzing in my pocket with an incoming call.

i do an awkward dance of trying to free my hand from a twisted bag handle, before retrieving the vibrating device from my pocket, my fathers contact taking up the screen. pressing accept, i hold the phone up to my ear.

“hey, dad!” i chirp, opening the refrigerator to begin unloading the food.

“hey, pumpkin. what are you up to?” his voice drifts in my ear as i put away a gallon of milk.

“just unloading groceries.” i inform him. “what are you and mom doing?”

“oh, nothing.” he sighs. “just missing our little girl.”

i laugh at his dramatics.

“i know, i need to come visit.” i stuff a few cartons of berries and a bag of grapes into the fruit drawer before shutting the fridge.

“so catch me up, honey. what’s new?”

“nothing really. i’m working on some new music, and i had an exec meeting this morning to discuss how the album is coming. but other than that it’s same old same old.”

i open the cupboard, taking care of the box of cereal and a couple bags of chips as i speak.

“and you’re still dating the uh…” he trails off. “the one with the tattoos?”

i can hear the disapproval oozing from his voice and my eyes roll in my head.

“Trevor, yes.” i confirm, walking down the hallway to our bedroom and placing a few things on Trevor’s nightstand before setting a new bottle of shampoo on our bathroom counter.

“yeah, him.” he sneers, and it’s then that i hear the front door open, two sets of footsteps reaching my ears. a smile spreads across my face as Trevor calls out my name. “i don’t understand why anyone would do that to their body. that’s permanent, ya know.”

“mhm.” i hum in disinterest. “hey, dad, i gotta go. i’ll call you later.”

“oh alright, honey. love you!”

“love you too.” i hang up the phone as Trevor steps into the room, smiling at the sight of me.

“there you are.” he beams. his arms snake around my waist, pulling me against him, and his head dips down to bring his lips to mine.

“here i am.” i mumble against his lips, causing a chuckle to arise from his throat.

“Jamie is in the living room. followed me home claiming that he had to see you.” he tells me, his eyes lighting up at the mention of his close friend.

“yeah, i invited him over for dinner.” i inform him. my hands cup the back of his neck, pulling him back down for another kiss.

my whole body relaxes, any tension disappearing when his lips meet mine. his eyes scan my face as he pulls away, and his faces falls, his lips forming an exaggerated frown.

“what’s wrong?” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear before pulling my head to his chest.

his heartbeat echoes in my head, calming me immensely.

“nothing.” i mutter, my eyes falling shut when he begins rubbing circles on my back.

“i don’t believe you.”

“it’s nothing, really.” i insist. “nothing that’s actually bothering me. just a little annoyed.”

“what annoyed you, baby?” he sways us back and forth and his hand on my back trails down to tickle at my side, making me giggle.

“well,” i sigh and he pushes me back to look into my face. “i said hi to a girl at warner today-”

he hums, encouraging me to keep talking.

“but it was just a quick ‘hi’. apparently she’s a fan of yours, and she thought it was rude of me to greet her and then not stay and chat.” i explain. “so she took to twitter to say so.”

Trevor huffs, his nose scrunching in annoyance. “well that’s just stupid. you don’t owe anyone a conversation…. except me. because you love me, obviously.”

i laugh at his joke, making his face light up at his successful attempt to cheer me up.

“what else, baby?”

“well then, at the store, i ran into one of your ex-hookups.” i continue, and his brows thread together in confusion.

“which, ya know, doesn’t bother me.” i clarify. “but she made a comment on the condoms we use and implied that our relationship wouldn’t last long.”

“our love is not hers to speculate on.” he gruffs out in annoyance, and i nod along.

“i know. so i walked away.”

“i’m proud of you, love.” he presses a kiss to my forehead, a smile resting upon my face as he does. “is that all?”

“almost.” i breathe out. “then i got home, and my dad called as i was putting away the groceries.”

“okay.” he nods, obviously confused why i would be annoyed about my father calling.

“and he made some snide remarks about your tattoos.” Trevor barks out a laugh at that, quite used to people commenting on the art that adorns his skin.

“i ignored them, and hung up pretty much right after, because you got home. but, i just wish he could look past them, because then maybe he’d see the kind, funny guy that you are and understand why i’ve given my heart to you.”

his eyes squint as he grins at my words, bending his neck to pepper kisses across my nose and cheeks. i squeal at the affection and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.

“baby, i don’t care what your dad thinks of me. only that you like me. and i’m pretty sure that you love me just the way i am.”

i nod, biting my lip and holding back a smile. my cheeks turn hot, a blush settling over them, and he smirks at the sight.

“i don’t want you to worry your pretty little mind, baby.” he coos. “so someone was wrongfully upset that you didn’t take time out of your day to talk to them— who cares? people like to throw rocks at things that shine. and you, my darling, shine so beautifully bright. they’re just jealous.”

i roll my eyes at his cheesy statement, but the sentiment warms my heart. “thank you, Trev.”

“any time, baby.” he pulls me in for another hug, my head resting on his chest again. “our love is ours. nobody else’s. what other people have to say about it, and about us, doesn’t matter.

“you hands belong in mine, my heart belongs to yours, and no matter what life throws at us, i’m by your side.”

i open my mouth to respond, but i’m cut off by another voice.

“aww, that was sweet.”

i lift my head from Trevor’s chest, our heads both turning towards the entrance to our bedroom to find Jamie standing there with a cheesy smile.

“Jimmy, what are you doing in here?” Trevor lets out a wheezy laugh at his friend, his head dropping back and his shoulders shaking. the sound is like music to my ears.

this man.

i am so irrevocably in love with him.

“i got bored.” Jamie shrugs. “you guys were taking forever.”

#speak now fic list #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fic #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

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darylsdelts · 1 month

Note

Hi😊 I was wondering if you could write the A - Z NSFW head canons for Daryl when you feel like it? I really love how you write him!

Tysm for this anon! This is fun!

Please keep in mind that sometimes I’m in the mood for subby Daryl and sometimes the opposite so my own opinions constantly change so, aside from this… yes Daryl is also daddy.

Aftercare - in the beginning, Daryl definitely doesn’t know what to do with himself after being intimate with you. The first few times, he pulls away after without saying anything and would either head out or just make some space between you. After he realises you actually want him there and understands what he should do then he definitely holds you close to his chest, a kiss on the top of your head, tells you he enjoyed it and he loves you.

Body - favourite body part… Daryl’s a boob man. He don’t give a shit, big or small but he loves em. (Norman is the biggest fucking boob man so so is Daryl, ok?) he also loves your eyes because he finds comfort in them, being able to hold eye contact is a big thing for Daryl. That being said, he basically get separation anxiety if he hasn’t been able to play with your pussy for a while😭 (not really but you’re his first time for everything so he just can’t get enough)

Cum - hear me out, Daryl used to get scared to cum. Like it took a while for him to get used to it. He’d enjoy show good it all felt but as soon as he would get too close he’d ask you to stop, he didn’t know why but he’d get all panicky. Until one day you very gently told him you were gonna make him cum and you guided him through it. It’s not like he hadn’t jerked off before, he didn’t even understand the anxiety himself. But the first time you did make him cum, there was quite a lot and he got real shy but he enjoyed it and since then he’s a fiend for when you just use your hand. He’s not really into cumming on your face but he likes the tummy. Even though he knows he can’t, sometimes he’ll still beg to cum inside you.

Dirty secret - he secretly likes the thought of you forcing him to watch yourself get off on your own fingers, tormenting him and not letting him touch you or himself. You’d have him practically rutting into thin air as he watched your fingers work hard, wishing it was his cock.

Experience - Daryl had no experience before you, he was a virgin. He didn’t outright say that but you caught on and you eventually asked him about it, which to your surprise he didn’t get defensive about, he was more ashamed than anything. But good Lord, he used his fingers liked he’d been in training his whole life, sure he was inexperienced but it didn’t show. The only telltale sign was his premature ejaculation the first time you two messed about and also how he humps his hips against the mattress when he eats you out.

Freaky - He’s not freaky lmfao. He’s pretty vanilla, with a submissive streak. The most dominant he gets is calling you a good girl and making you suck his fingers. Other than that he’s gentle and tends to slip into a sort of submissive role.

Goofy - Daryl’s too focused to be goofy. Nothing to laugh about if his girl ain’t cumming yet. But he’s not boring, obviously, just usually too caught up in pleasure. Unlessssss… you’re overstimulating him, something he loves, then he might get a little giggly accidentally but only because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re attacking his sensitive head.

Hair - Daryl’s hair is sparse on his chest and torso but his happy trail gets a little darker, not black though, I would say probably a medium brown colour, let’s remember he’s a blonde baby at heart. He’s got a little bit of bush going on but he trims it now and then. As for you, he couldn’t care less, he’s still gonna eat his meal 😋! If you do get the chance to shave, he’d most likely be surprised. “What’s this? Ya been shavin’? Hope ya ain’t done it fer me”. He wouldn’t want you to think you have to shave for him to find you attractive, to be honest it kinda throws him off when you’re hairless.

Intimacy - he’s a needy fucker for a cuddle. He don’t look like it but he might as well be the damn cuddle monster when it comes to you. In private of course. In public he’d just squeeze your hand and maybe kiss your forehead if no one’s looking but PDA makes him uncomfortable. That’s why he’s so touchy and clingy at home.

Jerking off - not much time for Daryl to touch himself, also, he’s with you so he might aswell just ask you to do it. However, if for any reason you’re apart, he might get a little pent up, start daydreaming about things you say to him and how you say it “such a good boy, Daryl” he’d practically fuck his hand, being so desperate for release that he’d cum way too fast. He also likes to cup his balls when he cums.

kinks - secret mommy kink secret mommy kink secret mommy kink. He didn’t know he had one but he did know that he tends to gravitate to nurturing women who make him feel comforted but he’s never found any sexual desire there until he met you. So attentive and so nurturing, you always knew what he needed… it just slipped out one time, you were straddling him whilst he was still clothed. You’d teased him all day and he was a mess, rutting against your core through his jeans, begging to be touched. He couldn’t help it when he had an accidental orgasm in his pants and moaned out “m-mommyyyy”. And boy did you hold him to that.

Location - Home. Daryl don’t take no risks! Except for when he lets you tease him under the table at meetings.

Motivation (turn ons) - you, especially if you’ve been fighting, he loves watching his girl fight. Your kindness turns him on as-well, unless someone takes advantage of it, then he’s out to kill.

No (turn offs) - roughness, he’s not into being rough with you or you being tough with him. His life’s been rough enough.

Oral - he gets whimpery when you suck his dick, he bucks his hips and whines and he fucking loves it. Almost as much as he loves to eat you out. He’d lay on his stomach, eating you out whilst simultaneously rubbing his cock against the mattress, leaving a puddle of precum.

Pace - usually a slow to medium pace, he likes making love to you but if he’s stressed or had a rough day, he’s gonna go fast. That’s the only time he’ll be overly dominant. Basically just using your body.

Quickie - as much as he thinks about it, Daryl’s not pushing you up against a tree mid-hunt. It’s dangerous and not exactly comfortable for you. The closest thing he’s gotten to a quickie is one time you teased his cock through his jeans during a group dinner and he was so close to cumming he basically dragged you to the bathroom and had you suck him off.

Stamina - less than he had in the beginning 😭 he’s 55 now, he’s still got impeccable stamina and could go for round two but not as quickly as he could at 40.

Toys - one day, you came home from a scavenge with a vibe, he was a little annoyed, saying you could’ve got more important things but you assured him that this was all you found. He assumed it was for your use only but… you held it to his frenulum and suddenly he was glad it was all you could find. You told him that if you found a dildo you could use that on him too but he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not, maybe he’d let you use your fingers before any of that… maybe.

Unfair - after all of this submissive Daryl talk, he does like seeing you flustered, he likes to tease just as much as you do, he makes it like a little competition.

Volume - he’s quiet, small grunts and whimpers unless the vibe is involved then you gotta stuff your panties in his mouth.

Wild card (random hc) - likes when you worship his body, makes him less insecure (which he very much is but shouldn’t be)

X-ray - 7 inches and thick! Tip is a pinky red and he’s uncut. His balls are heavy asf but pretty tight. 4 inches when soft and when he’s hard it stands to attention with no curve.

Yearning - tried to play it cool… still tries to play it cool but is obsessed with you.

Zzz - as soon as you’re snuggled up, he’s gone. Fucking finally, he never slept well before you.

God this took fucking ages.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #norman reedus #twd smut

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writersdelight · 2 months

Note

Hiii! I hope you're having a good day. I absolutely adore Husk, I just wanna smother him with hugs 😆

Could you write one with him and reader that takes place the night before extermination day? They love each other but are scared to admit it. Ultimately Angel Dusk convinces him to confess since 'tomorrow is never guaranteed'.

Lots of fluff and love please! Thank you! ❤️

“ I don’t know what to say..”

Husk/Reader fluff before the Extermination. Not long.

Word count: 842

———————————————————————

-> Content: Fluff, I hope this is tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, mentions of dying, not-proof read (we die like Adam)

-> Author’s note: My first request! Ajdjdgj. I don’t think I’ve written fluff ever, but I swear I tried my best. Tysm, Anon! I’m having a great day.

———————————————————————

Husk hadn’t been interested in making his feelings known during his life and that was all the more prevalent in death. When living in a place like Hell, you gotta be safe, keep your card close to your chest or someone will take advantage of you. He knew that all too well.. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have certain soft spots..

He liked how you were so genuine, it’s part of what he loves about you. He knows he loves you- he’s good at understanding people and that includes himself. Even if it’s something.. that’s hard for him to admit. Something about the prospect of letting someone in like that is unnerving.

There was only a day left until the Extermination. The rest of the hotel residents were celebrating, trying to live it up before the battle tomorrow. There were some residents who were calmer.. one was Angeldust or well.. Anthony. He appreciated the change he saw in Angel.. Though in the moment with Angel at his bar, he knew the other could tell something was on his mind.

“ …you thinking about tomorrow, whiskers? It got you worried?”

“ ‘Course not. I’m just thinkin’ of how we might run out of booze at this rate.”

Husk laughed the question off, gesturing the empty bottles around the bar. Angel knew that he was lying. With the entire exorcist army about to be on their doorstep, there was practically no chance any of them would making it.. even you. He both loved and hated that you’d be fighting by his side. He loved your passion, the way you wanted to protect your loved ones, but that’s just it: he wants to protect you. You’re safest far away from there.

“ That’s bull and you know it. You’re worried.. but I don’t think you’re worried about you. I think it’s someone else. Someone special to ya~”

As he danced around outright saying the name, he gestured with all four of his hands over to you. You were wrapped up in a conversation with Cherri Bomb at the moment, talking about who knows what. Husk’s gaze followed Angel’s movements… he wasn’t wrong.

“ ……..………”

“ I knew it! You ain’t denying it.”

Angel had a grin on his face as if it was the most satisfying moment in his afterlife (though it certainly wasn’t).

“ You gonna make a move before it’s too late? Say something you need to?”

“….. I don’t think there’s anything I can to say. It’s.. complicated.”

Angel looked at him, taking the situation more seriously than he had before.

“ ….Husk, Buddy, tomorrow ain’t guaranteed. We both know it... so why not go tell your special little someone how you feel..? What’s there to lose?”

———————————————————————

The party had died down, most people were talking amongst themselves at this point… He had to gather himself to work up the nerve to go through with the confession. He knew that he loved you, he was almost positive you felt the same way, but that didn’t take the edge off of this type of deal. He took a breath before walking over to you..

“ Hey.. you mind joinin’ me upstairs?”

He wanted to be somewhere more private for this. Just the two of you.

“ I don’t mind at all.. something up?”

“ Nothin’ to worry about, doll.”

He guided you to the stairs. Once you two were at the top, he led you straight to his room.. you had never been in there. It was.. sort of nice. Certainly dingy. It’s exactly what you thought a man like him would have.

“ …what is this about?”

“ ……….”

He took a moment to figure out his words.. how can he say this? There are so many wrong ways to put it and the possibility of doing it right was slim to none.

“…..we might die tomorrow-”

“ I know that. There’s no where I would rather be than here. Someone needs to show these angels what happens when they pick a fight.”

You interrupted.

“ This isn’t about the damn fight- this is about you. Doll… I.. got feelings for you- I love you. I need you to know incase we’re both double dead tomorrow..”

He was almost surprised to hear the words leave his own mouth much less the surprise you felt.. your eyes met his in the moment after he confessed. There was a silence.

You had felt the same way, how couldn’t you? But putting it to words and saying what you both knew aloud..?

“ I-”

Husk couldn’t finish his sentence as you moved, tightly hugging him. You could feel him loosen up slightly, he had been so tense.. slowly he hugged back.

“…I feel the same, Husk.”

He smiled a bit.. his wings wrapped around you, pulling you closer. It was like you two were the only people in all of hell and that’s the way he likes it. You’re one of the best things that’s happened to him.

Tomorrow may not be guaranteed.. but you two will always have tonight.

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shekeepswriting · 10 months

Text

A Little More Heart

[Syverson x Reader]

Word Count: 3977

Summary: On a night out with an old friend, Sy meets a woman who catches his interest.

Warnings: Just cursing and a little bit of alcohol

A/N: This could become a series? I’ve got little bits and pieces and some fun ideas. Let me know if you’d be interested in that. I’m new to this part of tumblr and very nervous...

Sullivan’s was pretty barren that night, not that anyone could expect much for this late on a Thursday night. A few regulars warming their usual barstools, making conversation and laying out their woes to a characteristically haggard Billy Sullivan as he filled the pretzel and peanut bowls. A duo of middle aged women talking gratuitous shit at a table near the middle of the room with frequent smoke breaks. A group of four guys, barely on the right side of 21, trying to boost their cool kid points by getting good at pool. One woman sitting at the end of the bar with a notebook, leaning heavily on her forearms in a way that read more fatigue than alcohol consumption. Looked like she was drinking lemonade.

Everyone who had been there when Syverson and Danny walked in two hours earlier was still holding steady.

They’d made their way through the stages of conversation people usually had drinking with old friends. The short term catch up, funny argument over something stupid, brief foray into more emotional territory, shared memories, hypotheticals. Their night, at least, was starting to wind down.

When Sy came back from the bathroom, Danny was staring at the woman at the bar, finger tapping idly on his glass. Having known him since he was fifteen years old, Sy knew that face very well.

“Not gonna go your way,” Sy said mildly, with a hint of a smirk.

“No? How d’you figure?”

“She’s sitting at the very end of the bar with a notebook and pen. She didn’t come here to make friends or get hit on.”

“She could’ve stayed home to write,” Danny argued, but his face was thoughtful as he watched you.

“We could’ve stayed home to drink.”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Alright, take it easy. I’m not gonna harass the woman. Just gonna introduce myself. If she’s not interested, I’ll go. Not trying to be an ass.”

“Nah, you don’t gotta try. You’re a natural.”

Danny squinted, snatching at Sy’s glass and downing the rest of his drink in retaliation.

“You go then. Looks like you’re running empty anyway.”

“I don’t do that shit anymore.”

“Oh, I know it. Old man Syverson ain’t known the touch of a woman in fifty years,” Danny said, exaggerating his accent and wiping away an imaginary tear.

“That’s enough of that now.”

“Come on, man. Look at her. Frowning and drinking alone. She’s your soulmate.”

Sy shot him a frown, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Not drinking alone though, am I?”

“You talk to her or I will.”

Sy gave an unconvinced grumble, but the look on Danny’s face made it clear it was no idle bluff. Now, there was nothing wrong with Danny. He wasn’t aggressive or pushy; he knew how to take no for an answer. But he’d give it a solid effort, and he was the most extroverted person Sy had ever met.

If you were uninterested in company, the way that he was almost certain you were, it would be easier to avoid the whole process entirely. And if Sy took up the bar stool two spaces to your right, Danny wouldn’t have a clear view to know whether or not the two of you actually spoke a word to each other.

He stood up from the table with a deep sigh, making sure his annoyance over the disruption of his night was fully documented.

“Happy hunting, Captain,” Danny said with a stupid grin and a sloppy salute that had Sy rolling his eyes as he turned towards the bar.

As you noticed his approach, your shoulders tensed up, lips slightly pursed but eyes still trained on your journal. Sy gave you space, careful to only observe you through his peripheral vision as he claimed a stool a fair distance from you, leaving a buffer seat between you.

Billy approached as he sat, brought him a beer with minimal conversation.

You fidgeted, clicking your pen three times in rapid succession.

There wasn’t much more Sy could do to set you at ease without blowing the whole operation, but he set his phone on the bartop, scrolling absently through contacts and pictures to give himself something to do, something to help you feel less observed.

Your leg started bouncing and you glanced at him, quick as humanly possible.

There was a silent standoff for a few minutes, one Sy was trying very hard to will out of existence. But you were still tense on your barstool, expectant.

You broke first.

“No pitch, huh?”

You were looking right at him this time, fully turned to face him, eyes intense but not unfriendly.

“Pitch?”

“You left that cozy corner table to come drink by yourself on an uncomfortable bar stool. Usually the kind of move that’s followed by an introduction, maybe some pickup lines. A pitch of some kind.”

Sy turned his head just enough to see the table he’d been sitting at out of the corner of his eye. Danny turned his head away too fast, feigning interest in the record cover art hanging on the bar walls. Idiot.

“Saw me over there, huh?”

“I’m a woman drinking alone in a dive bar, and you are literally the largest threat in the room. Of course I saw you.”

Sy frowned.

“Not a threat to nobody.”

You raised your eyebrow, reaching out with a speed that had Sy struggling not to tense up as you looped your pen under the chain barely peeking out of the neckline of his shirt.

“You don’t strike me as the necklace type. Military, right?”

“Retired.”

You hummed, letting the chain drop back against his skin as you retreated from his personal space. He reached up, patting the shape of his tags as they resettled against his chest beneath his shirt. It felt strange, wearing them again. He wasn’t used to it anymore. Normally they lived in the back of the top drawer in his desk, out of sight and as far out of mind as he could manage to keep them. But anniversaries were psychologically significant. He’d learned that in therapy. So he’d decided to honor this one, the anniversary of his initial enlistment, by putting them on again. Going out with a friend from before… everything. It was why he was here.

“Military,” you repeated quietly, your eyes back on your notebook again, still tilted out of Syverson’s view as you flipped the page, stared at the blank expanse for a moment before giving your pen two thoughtful clicks. “Always a threat.”

Sy’s stomach lurched uncomfortably.

“Not to you. Not to anyone in this bar,” he said firmly, tilting his head to add as an afterthought, “Long as they mind their fuckin manners.”

Your mouth curved up at the corner, just the hint of a smile, the first he’d seen from you all night. Not that he’d been watching. Much. It disappeared after only a few seconds, replaced by a focused frown that traced a crease between your brows as you put pen to paper.

His eyes flicked down towards the bartop, but the cover of the notebook still shielded the page from his view. He was tempted to drop it, leave you to your work, whatever that might be. But your body language gave him pause. You had shuffled around on your stool during your brief conversation and remained that way even now, shoulders and hips pivoted slightly in his direction rather than running parallel to the bar in a position more comfortable for writing. He fiddled with the label on the bottle of beer the bartender had brought him, the corner peeling back easy under his thumb before he smoothed it back into place.

“What’re you doing?”

You glanced up at him, flashing that little smile again, though this time it looked a little sharper, caught somewhere between self-conscious and amused.

“Chasing the muse, I guess.”

Sy raised an eyebrow, gave a neutral hum.

“Not sure I know what that means.”

“Sure you do,” you said quietly, eyes tracing thoughtfully over his face before you turned your attention back to your notebook. “It’s a pretty universal concept, I think.”

“Maybe.” He took a sip of his beer. “Just figured most people don’t come this far south looking for it. More of a New York and LA kind of thing.”

“Just because those are the places most people look for inspiration, doesn’t mean those are the only places you can find it.”

You were some kind of artist then. Interesting.

“Can I ask what you’re looking to inspire? Or is that too personal?”

That earned him another look, something quiet and appreciative. Two quick pen clicks.

“You can ask. I kinda want to hear you guess though.”

He looked again at your notebook. It wasn’t the tiny kind, but it wasn’t full sized either. Leatherbound or something like it, not spiral. He couldn’t see the paper to know whether it was lined or not. Could be for writing small amounts. Drawing maybe. You could even be writing song lyrics in there. He hadn’t been around enough artsy people in his life to know a damn thing about it.

But he was observant, good at cataloging behavior, pretty decent at reading people. When he had first approached, your hand had been gliding in straight lines across the page, but now it was moving more erratically. There was something different in your glances too. Slow, almost too intense to be polite, analyzing. Maybe you were drawing him on that page you kept so carefully hidden from his gaze. Or maybe you were still deciding whether or not he was a threat to you. Sy wasn’t totally comfortable with either option, but he’d prefer to think that the current turn of the conversation was proof of you softening just a little towards him.

He hedged his bets a little, just in case.

“Don’t see any paint on ya. That’s about the best I can do,” he said mildly.

“That was an awful lot of thinking for ‘don’t see any paint on ya,’’' you said, tilting your head. A bit too gentle to be an accusation, but you still wanted a better answer.

“Alright…” Sy shifted on his bar stool, angling towards you. “Looked like you were writing before I got here. But now you’re either scribbling or drawing. Maybe even drawing me by the way you keep looking at me. Unless you’ve got another reason to be staring like that.”

Right answer. You were smiling again, a little freer than last time.

“I’m not staring.”

He shrugged. “Studying, then.”

“I’ll take studying,” you said with a slow nod. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“I’ll live.”

“Of course you will, but that’s not an answer.”

“Sure isn’t,” he said, taking another drink.

His own lips curved up into a smile, almost against his will, when you laughed. Bright and open. You were fully facing him now with the kind of smile that was impossible to ignore, genuine and joyful and inescapably contagious.

“Let’s try this then…” you said, trailing off into soft humming sounds as you added a few last hurried lines to your notebook before setting your pen down.

You ripped the page out as cleanly as you could manage and set it on the scarred bar top, giving it a little push towards him.

And it was his face looking up at him from the paper, rendered in wild pen strokes of blue ink, but no less detailed for the messy style. The close cut of his hair, sharp furrow of his brows above focused eyes, the beard that had needed trimming for two days at least. Neither unflattering nor romanticized, just honest. The way you saw him. A little intense, a little rough around the edges, but not harsh. There was kindness there somewhere in the lines of his face, but he couldn’t pin down exactly where.

Sy hummed, gestured toward your pen.

“Borrow that for a minute?”

You slid it down the bar to him with a raised brow.

He nodded in thanks as he took it, snagging an unused napkin as well. With an excessive slowness, he sketched out his very best stick figure, looking up at you with an evaluative stare when he heard a muffled laugh. You dropped your hand from your mouth, meeting his gaze with a playful smile, tolerating the long look with amusement dancing in your eyes.

He dutifully added two dot eyes, pausing for a moment before drawing eyelashes and eyebrows, trying not to tear through the napkin. A very geometric nose followed, and a wide open smile. After another long look he added your hair, actually bothering to get the shape right since it seemed much more attainable even with his limited art skills.

You were still smiling as you watched him sign the corner.

“Those your initials or is that your name?” you asked, tilting your head to read the tiny letters.

“My name,” he answered, sliding the napkin and pen back to the bar space between your two stools.

“Sy,” you said slowly, as if testing the sound of it. He smiled too, just a little, not remembering when he’d last liked the sound of his own name so much.

“You didn’t sign yours,” he reminded you, and you squinted your eyes at him, knowing full well what he was after.

Still, you took up the pen and signed the loose sheet of notebook paper. Probably exactly as you signed everything else: mostly illegibly. He could decipher the initials, but not much else.

You let out a snort at the unimpressed look he leveled at you.

“Now you’re just causin’ problems on purpose.”

“It’s not my fault that you write like a caps lock keyboard and I don’t.”

He sighed.

“And here I drew you a real pretty picture,” Sy said slowly, tapping the napkin.

“You did,” you said with a smile. “But I’m still holding out for the pitch.”

“I still don’t have one.”

“Come on, now,” you said, a challenging spark in your eyes. “I’ve never met a man who didn’t have a pitch. A line. A move. You’ve got something.”

“Haven’t done none of that since I was a teenager,” he said. “I’ve got no use for that shit.”

“Sure you do. Because I’m asking. And don’t tell me you haven’t flirted since you were a teenager. I don’t believe that for a second.”

Sy shifted in his seat.

“Didn’t say I never flirted. Just said I don’t use lines.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at the distinction, resting your chin on your hand.

“Come on now. You want to know my name, that’s the price. And I expect your best work, Sy.”

He let out a deep sigh, rubbing at his forehead. This was about to be real fuckin embarrassing.

“Alright. Not promising anything good, here. I only ever had two.”

“Efficient,” you said with an approving nod.

“They’re not good,” he repeated.

“But they worked?”

“Mostly. God only knows why.”

“Stop stalling,” you said in a stage whisper.

“First one…”

“I’m ready.”

He cleared his throat, looked straight into your eyes.

“Wanna make out later?”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise before stretching into a wide smile.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “I wasn’t ready.”

Sy shrugged, took a sip of his beer while you stared at him in awe.

“That worked for you?”

“Yep,” he said with a small smile. “What, you don’t appreciate honesty?”

“I… do,” you answered slowly. “Okay, I guess I see it. What’s the second one?”

“Excuse me, ma’am, I don’t mean to bother you, but I can’t seem to find my phone number. Could I borrow yours?”

“You turned your accent up for that one,” you said with a delighted laugh. “Full force southern charm. My God, what a little heartbreaker you must have been!”

“Now you’re just bein’ mean,” he said, turning back away from you.

“No, I’m completely serious. I fully believe those worked for you, and now I kinda want to see pictures.”

“Now, you’ve gotten more than enough outta me for one night.”

“Fine, fine,” you sighed.

You picked your pen back up, wrote your first name in small block letters under your artsy scribble, your best approximation of his own handwriting.

“Bullyin me,” he muttered even as he committed your name to memory.

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” you said breezily, laughing at the look he shot you in response.

“So, what, you’re some kind of artist then?” he asked, changing the subject. “Draw and paint and all that?”

You shook your head.

“Not really, no. That’s just for fun. I like drawing people.”

He looked at the paper again.

“Well you’re damn good at it. If that’s not the muse you’re chasin, what is?”

“Umm,” you sighed, like you were preparing to give an explanation that you’d given dozens of times before. “I write online for a magazine. It’s… kind of like a travel blog, but it’s less about the places and more about the people? Here…”

You reached into your pocket for your phone, tapping around for a bit before handing it to him. There was a picture of you at the top, a profile view of you driving, but it was so strongly backlit by a late afternoon sun, that it left your features mostly indistinguishable. Smart. Probably safer that way. Below that, a US map covered in multicolor pins, a calendar view, with dots on days you’d posted, and finally a list of posts. Abbreviated views of each one showed a first name and city, a pen drawing like the one you’d done of him, and the first two sentences of your story.

He nodded slowly.

“You gonna write a story about me, then?”

You fussed with your hair, shifting uncomfortably on your stool.

“Probably not. Unless you want me to. I always ask permission first.”

“I’m sure you do. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

You sighed again. Sy frowned.

“So what’s the problem then? Looks like there’s a lot here. Doesn’t seem like you need a lot of help.”

“I didn’t think so either,” you said with an unhappy smile. “But my editor has decided that I need to attract more dedicated readers. People who check the website every day, not just when they think to. Subscribers. And to do that, I apparently need to add a little more heart.”

“What’s that mean?” Sy asked.

“Good fuckin question,” you said, lifting your glass as if in a toast. “I guess some sort of emotional buy-in. Something personal and specific so the readers get invested in me specifically, not just the people I talk to.”

“And that brought you down here?”

You shrugged.

“My grandma lives here. Seemed like as good a plan as any.”

“I’m sure she’s glad to see you, whether it helps with your writing or not.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, your eyes softening. “She really is.”

“How long you think you’ll be staying?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got two weeks of posts queued up, so I bought myself at least that long before I have to figure out how to… do the emotion thing.”

“That damn emotion thing,” Sy said, shaking his head, smiling a bit when it drew a soft laugh from you.

“Yeah…”

“Maybe I’ll see you around again then,” he ventured, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s a tiny ass town,” you said with a smile. “So probably.”

“You’d be okay with that?” he checked.

You laughed again, nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah, I think so. Long as you mind your fuckin manners,” you said, taking on an overplayed surly tone as you repeated his earlier comment back to him.

“I always mind my manners,” he said matter-of-factly, glaring playfully at you when it elicited a snort from you.

“Oh, sure you do,” you laughed, checking the time on your phone.

You took a deep breath in the companionable silence that followed, reaching down to drag your bag up from where it had been tucked safely between your feet. The napkin with Sy’s drawing curled your lips into another smile as you closed it between the pages of your notebook and stowed it in the main zipper pocket along with your pen. Your phone went back into your pocket.

Looked like his time with you was almost up.

He leaned back on his barstool a little, glancing back at Danny who was now schooling the young guy at pool with a self-satisfied smile.

When he returned his attention to you, you were giving him that searching look again.

“About that time?” he asked.

“I think so, yeah,” you said. “It was nice meeting you, Sy. Sorry for giving you a hard time.”

“Nah, you’re not.”

You laughed, shrugged your shoulders.

“I’d like to think it did you some good. But seriously. I had fun talking to you. Thanks for the company.”

He nodded, gave you a smile.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Hope so.”

You took another breath and slid off your stool. Billy came to collect your glass, mostly melted ice now, and you gave him a polite smile.

There was a moment of hesitation, like you wanted to say something else but weren’t sure what. You settled for a little wave as you started to turn towards the door. Then it was Sy’s turn to feel it, the suddenly urgent need to say something, to drag the moment out just a little longer.

He called out your name, a plan forming in his head when you turned quickly back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Well, ‘fore you go, I figure I should ask you...”

“Ask me what?”

If you had any idea what he was about to say, you were hiding it extremely well, just staring at him curiously, head slightly tilted and smiling softly. Almost made him change his mind. Almost.

“You wanna make out later?”

Your eyes lit up, a laugh barely kept in check, locked behind a widening smile.

“Oh, I see. I get it now,” you said, taking a step closer.

Sy raised his eyebrows.

“It’s the eyes that do it. You weren’t doing the eyes before.”

“I’m not doing nothing with my eyes,” he argued, but a smile slipped free when you took another step closer.

“Yes you are,” you laughed. “You’re smoldering.”

“No, ma’am, I don’t smolder.”

“It’s more lighthearted than most,” you admitted. “Dare I say even playful. But it’s still a smolder.”

He shrugged easily, eyes scanning over your face.

“Still ain’t answered my question.”

“Did you mean it?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in challenge.

“Said it, didn’t I?”

You looked him over, humming thoughtfully. He didn’t move, kept right on looking until your eyes returned to his.

“I’ll think about it and let you know,” you answered with an unreadable expression.

“And how are you gonna manage that?” he asked, spinning on the bar stool to keep his eyes on you as you moved towards the door.

You clicked your tongue, patting at your pockets with increasing concern until you finally met his eyes with a despairing frown.

“Oh God, you’re right! I totally lost my phone number. Any chance that I could borrow yours?”

Sy shook his head with a sigh, holding his hand out for your phone as you approached him again, an inescapably smug smile on your lips.

“Think you’re real cute, don’t you?” he muttered, biting at the corner of his lip to keep a smile in check.

“You certainly think so, or it wouldn’t have worked.”

He handed your phone back to you, watched you send him a wink emoji before you turned to leave again with a parting flutter of your fingers.

He shook his head again when the door closed behind you and saved your number as “Trouble.”

-----------------------------------

A/N: I’m very nervous. Please let me know what you think and if you wanna read more! Thanks for sticking with me this far

#syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #sandcastle fanfiction

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solomons-finest-rum · 1 year

Note

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days.

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic.

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie.

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant:

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly.

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy.

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in.

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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ladykailitha · 15 days

Text

Icarus Part 7

Hey, guys! I hope you're all still enjoying this story! It's a blast to write.

Here we have Gareth's explosion and the resulting fallout.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

****

When Eddie got back to his hotel he had all three of his bandmates waiting for him.

Jeff had his arms crossed, glaring at the other two. “I’m here under protest, I told them you had messaged me that you wouldn’t be coming home last night but they still thought you were being kidnapped or some shit.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Gareth and Brian. “I’m a grown ass man who can do grown ass things like have sex with another man and spend the night.” He raised his had to stall the onslaught of questions that were no doubt about to screamed at him. “Of course I didn’t get papped. I never get papped. Jesus Christ.”

“We’re supposed to be working on our ninth album,” Gareth growled. “Fucking act like it.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You don’t get to say that this time. Not after what you and Bri did in London last time,” he hissed. “We had a chance to record in the actual fucking Abbey Road Studios and you two went on a three day bender where Jeff and I didn’t even know where you were. It got so fucking bad, you two have been banned from drinking at all this record.”

Brian had the decency to look chastised. But not Gareth, he doubled down.

“Which is why it’s so important that you don’t do it either,” he snarled back. “We don’t want to be kicked out of this studio too.”

“I was back before breakfast was being served!”

Jeff stood up and held out his hands. “All right, enough! Gareth this attitude is getting out of hand. No one has done more for this band than Eddie and you acting like he’s gonna do a runner at any moment is fucking ridiculous. And after all these years if he hasn’t run off yet, he sure as hell ain’t gonna now.”

“You need to work on your abandonment issues, dude,” Eddie snapped. “I have put my heart and soul into this band and I really don’t appreciate the constant insinuation that each concert, each album is going to be the last.”

Gareth stood up, fists clenched at his side. “You mean to tell me if Steve Harrington walked in here and offered to suck your dick in exchange for you quitting the band, that you wouldn’t?”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said coldly. “And he would never ask. God.” He ran his hands over his face and began to pace. “His little brother is like our number one fan. You know that guy I took with me back to Hawkins?”

Gareth nodded curtly, but Eddie could tell he was starting to unbend.

“He loves our band,” he continued, pulling at his hair. “So that’s just one of many reasons why he wouldn’t. The biggest one, though, Gare.” He whirled around pointed directly at him. “Is that he knows what this band means to me and would never make me choose.”

His lip wobbled and the glimmer of unshed tears stuck to his eyelashes. “Because he loves me.”

Eddie sank to his knees, hands in his hair and began to rock back and forth.

“You take care of Gareth,” Brian said to Jeff, quiet but harsh into the silence that followed that statement. “I’ll take care of Eddie.”

Jeff nodded and bullied Gareth out of the room. The door closed and the remaining two could hear the harsh tones of the two who had left.

Brian got on his knees in front of Eddie and gently removed Eddie’s hands from his hair.

“Hey, Ed,” Brian murmured. “Can you look up at me for a moment? I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Eddie looked up at him. “That’s who I was with last night,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Steve said that he loved me and he kissed me, Bri. It was so special.”

Bri sighed and sat down cross-legged from him. “It’s that we’re all supposed to be sequestered and you snuck off, only telling Jeff where you went. So Gareth and I freaked out a bit.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe a lot.”

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair, settling into a more comfortable position on the floor.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice clearer than before. “That was stupid of me. But I don’t think it’s fair that Jeff and I are being punished by the label for something you and Gare did.”

Brian scooted forward until their knees were touching. “It’s not and I am sorry about that. My girlfriend had broken up with me at same time I learned that I was asexual and I was in a really bad place. But I shouldn’t have let Gareth talk me into that bender, there was no excuse.”

“I’m afraid if he has another outburst,” Eddie murmured, “that everyone is gonna want us to replace him. The label, our PR firm, even our Chrissy would be forced to concede that the band can’t continue with him in it. And I don’t want that. But I will not have my life dictated to by someone who is four years my junior.”

Brian let out a long shuddering breath. “You’re right. While we’re here, if he’s willing, we should get him some therapy. Because I don’t want to lose him either. You guys are my family and have been forever.”

“Back ‘attcha, Bri,” Eddie murmured. “Last night was so good and I had awesome news for everyone that I couldn’t wait to tell you guys.”

Brian chuckled. “Even more awesome then sex with Steve Harrington? Must have been off the charts then.”

“I snuck out to see The Fallen in concert,” Eddie said chewing on his lip.

“Of course you did,” Brian said rolling his eyes. “And of course if we’d all gone it would have completely ruined their last show because it would have been all about us and not them.” He stuck out his tongue. “You still suck though.”

Eddie laughed. “Just wait, it gets better.”

Brian waved his hand for him to continue.

“So I was also able to get backstage where I got to meet Abbadon–”

“Gareth is going to murder you and then bring you back to life so that he can murder you all over again,” Brian said dryly, shaking his head.

“Do you think he’ll grant me a stay of execution if I told him I asked Abbadon if he thought his band would want a chance to headline for us?” Eddie asked batting his eyelashes and clutching his hands to his chest dramatically.

Brian blinked at him for a moment. “I guess that would depend on if they said yes...” he said honestly.

“All of them have to agree,” he replied with a shrug, “but Abbadon was pretty sure that they would.”

Brian sat there a moment. He licked his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I think we should use it as leverage.”

Eddie’s head reared back. “What do you mean?”

“Tell Gareth that if he gets therapy, The Fallen will tour with us,” Brian explained. “But if he won’t, he has to take the tour off and go into rehab.”

“Oh.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about it. “I think we should ask Jeff and if he agrees, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Brian nodded. “I love him like a brother, but this was the last straw I think.”

“Let’s call Chrissy in on this, too,” Eddie said.

“Yeah.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do this.”

****

They ended up staging an intervention and using The Fallen as incentive they all got Gareth to agree to counseling.

A therapist would come in twice a week and Gareth would have two hours sessions with this person.

They were carefully vetted by Chrissy and the rest of the band, but finally they decided on one that would help Gareth.

Dr. Sam Owens came in and Eddie, Brian, and Jeff all sat in Brian’s suite, waiting for him to be done.

They tried to work on music but it felt flat without Gareth there. They tried watching a movie but they couldn’t decide which one.

They simple sat in silence until it was five minutes before the session was up. Then they slowly made the trek to Gareth’s suite.

Dr Owens came out first.

“I can’t discuss anything that went on in our session,” he warned.

“It’s just–” Jeff said, distressed. “Are you going to work out with Gareth?”

Brian nodded. “We just want to make sure we don’t need to vet someone else. He’s okay with continuing to see you, right?”

Dr Owens softened. “I understand now. My apologies. Often managers and fellow band members ask– rather, they demand to know what was said.”

“Not cool,” Jeff said. “We’d never. We just want to make sure it goes as smoothly as possible, because we care. We want him to get better.”

Dr. Owens nodded. “Thank you. You should be all right to go in and see him. We didn’t get to anything gritty today.”

They all nodded and bid the doctor goodbye.

Jeff knocked on the door and was promptly told to come in.

All three of them slipped into the suite. Jeff and Brian surged forward and gave him a group hug.

It took them a moment but they realized that Eddie had been quiet this whole time, that he had hung back when they entered the room.

He stood in front of the door with his hands on his lower back, just watching them shower Gareth with affection.

But he didn’t know what to do. Gareth had really hurt him. Had made an event that had been so happy for him and turned it to ash on his tongue. His first time with Steve would always be tainted by Gareth screaming at him.

Steve had been so angry when he heard what Gareth had done and was ready to pull out of the tour, everyone else’s disappointment be damned. But Eddie had talked him down. Told him about the intervention. The deal that could be struck and Steve reluctantly agreed.

One therapy session didn’t make up for all the hurt and anger he had felt.

They all turned to look at him and Eddie felt like he was the one who was in trouble, not Gareth. His lip wobbled as he sucked in a breath.

He turned on his heel and would have ran if he hadn’t felt arms wrap around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth mumbled into his back. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re my best friend. My brother. I’m so sorry, Ed. Please don’t go.”

Eddie wrapped one hand around Gareth’s arm and pressed the other against the wood frame of the door. He laid his head on the door and let out that shuddering breath in a long exhale.

“You hurt me so bad, Gare,” Eddie whispered. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

He could feel Gareth nodding into his back.

“I don’t know how you didn’t drown like the rest of us,” Gareth said. “But I want to be more like you, Eddie. Please don’t go. I don’t think I could take it.”

Eddie huffed out a sigh.

“It’s because I saw what the worst of those vices did to a person,” he said, slowly turning around so that they were face to face. “And I made a promise to my Uncle Wayne and on my mama’s grave that I wouldn’t turn out like my dad. It hasn’t always been easy, in fact it’s been fucking hard almost all of the time, but I work at it.”

Gareth had tears streaming down his face.

“You’ve got to let me live my life, man,” Eddie finished. “I won’t let you ruin a good thing that I’ve got going for me because you have abandonment issues.”

Gareth let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I promise to be better. I promise to stick with therapy. Just promise you won’t give up on me.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around his friend and held on tight. “I promise.”

****

Part 8

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

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@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

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@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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mochalate · 3 months

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"no body, no crime" ; f!reader/osamu miya Osamu has heard people say it's not the dark itself that anyone's scared of, it's what could be waiting inside it. He thinks that what all fear boils down to, ultimately — exposure to the unknown. (Osamu has never been afraid of the dark, but now he sees it in your eyes.)

w/c: 1.6k ; fluff angst idk, vibes c/w: involuntary unaliving (you and Osamu are fine, dw), abusive relationship (ditto) a/n: just a little break from the two (TWO!! What was I thinking!) longfics I'm outlining/writing. the banner doesn't match the vibe of the fic tbh, but I just love how it came out lol, look how cute the little skull is

The lightbulb dims and flickers.

Onigiri Miya’s kitchen is plunged into a strange, incandescent twilight; and Osamu pauses mid-step, despite the heavy stack of freshly washed plates in his arms.

He’s never been scared of the dark. But there’s something unsettling about the way the space is transformed so easily; how this blurring of the line between light and shadow makes everything that had been familiar not a second ago, seem uncanny.

Osamu sees you look up from the sink you’re cleaning, the motion made staccato by the flickering bulb.

“We really need to replace that thing,” you huff, face obscured by the shadows. “It’s creepy.”

You’re silhouetted against the window above the sink; looking out on the narrow, deserted street behind the restaurant— more a glorified alley than not. It’s dark out, past eleven. The glow from the closest streetlight barely reaches.

“Ya don’t need to be scared when I’m here,” Osamu says with a grin, as he moves towards the rack. “Gonna protect you from the ghosts an’ all.”

The bulb stabilises, and now he has a clear view of the way you roll your eyes at him. “Oh, so our restaurant is haunted now?”

The plates clink as Osamu puts them away, louder than usual in the silence. “I’ve got a Bluebeard type operation going on here, ya see. Really think you’re my first girlfriend?”

You laugh as you return your attention to the sink. “Wow, shame you didn’t open with that line on the first date.” The steel wool makes harsh, scraping squeals as you scrub. “Nothing like reminding a girl her date could be a murderer. Makes everything a little more exciting.”

“Noted for my next victim,” he concedes. “And I’ll order a new bulb when we get home. Didn’t think it was makin’ ya that uncomfortable.”

You smile gratefully at him over your shoulder as you turn on the faucet and give the sink a final rinse. “We need some new knives too. Those kids you were training for the part time work really wore out the ones we have now.”

Osamu nods. “You okay to finish up and meet me outside? I’ll start pullin’ down the shutters.”

You agree, just like you always do.

Emi would fit right in with those ghosts that (did not) haunt Onigiri Miya.

You’re sitting with her at the only occupied table. There’s a light rain tonight, and the raindrops pattering against the windows drown out what little conversation he would have been able to hear from the counter.

She’s a wisp of a woman, huddled under a mud-coloured cardigan that blends into the restaurant’s wood panelling. She sits incredibly still. Her long, dark hair hangs loose around a pale and unmemorable face. Barely there. Almost a trick of the light.

Osamu watches as you take her hand, telling her something urgently. She never raises her eyes from her lap. Her shoulders are hunched, but her face is impassive.

He wonders what she’s thinking.

“Who’s Sadako over there?” Atsumu asks, reaching for another rice ball.

Osamu slaps his hand away. “Are ya paying for any of that? This ain’t a soup kitchen. And lord, yer rude.”

Atsumu withdraws sulkily. “Stingy.”

It’s easy to tell what Atsumu’s thinking. He says everything that crosses his mind; but even when he doesn’t, it’s written all over his face. Growing up with him, Osamu had to learn that people could lie; and lie well.

That woman looks pitiful, is what Atsumu is thinking right now, glancing over his shoulder with furrowed brows. Is she okay?

“That’s her friend,” Osamu says. “From college. Emi.”

“Yeah? What’s her problem?”

“Shitty boyfriend.”

“I thought you were dating—”

Osamu smacks him upside the head.

The new light bulbs come in. Osamu replaces the one in the kitchen, but it still flickers.

He expects you to comment, make a joke about ghosts; but you just keep scrubbing the sink. You haven’t said much at all, today.

The steel wool screams. Osamu’s worried you’ll cut through your gloves.

“Hey,” he says, because he’s not sure what else he can say, “Easy.”

You start, as if jerked out of a trance. “Sorry.”

The silence after, where you stand with your head hanging over the sink, too far away for him to touch, is suffocating and cavernous all at once. He’s afraid to say the wrong thing, and having to watch it echo and bounce, amplifying itself into something grotesque.

“Emi will get justice. They’ll find out who did it.”

You turn on him so suddenly, so violently, that he instinctively takes a step back; even though you’re half his size.

“I know who did it, it was him,” you spit, face venomous and unfamiliar. “If the police would just listen to me and Emi’s sister—”

“He has an alibi,” Osamu reminds you gently. “There’s no proof.”

You blink, and seem to deflate. “Right, no proof. The police can’t do anything.” You chew on your thumbnail as you mumble, speaking more to yourself than to him, the rest of your fingers curled in a fist.

Your anger seems to have evaporated in an instant, quick as the flickering light. You’re you again. At least, that’s what he wants to believe.

He needs to fix that light. It’s making you look damn scary.

Emi’s sister comes by to see you a lot, after they find the body. Osamu’s not sure what you speak to her about. He’s also not sure why he feels like he shouldn’t ask.

It’s been gnawing at him, lately. This feeling of not sure, not knowing. It's always present, always sapping at his strength. It’s the real ghost in Onigiri Miya, only he’s not sure who it’s haunting— him, or you.

You seem different. He finds himself watching you from a distance, trying to understand what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. It used to be easy; a language he was fluent in.

Now, his tongue feels rusty. He can never find the words that feel right.

You don’t speak as much as you did before, either. The silence after closing used to be warm and comfortable, the time he got to spend with you at the end of a bustling day. But now it isn’t calming. It’s tense, as if he’s constantly waiting for something to explosively fill it in.

There’s just you.

“Osamu, what time is it?” you ask, stripping off your gloves. “Could you check my phone? It’s right next to you.”

He looks at you curiously. You usually left it out front with his, charging under the register. Why the change? He can’t bring himself to ask.

“Osamu.” Your voice is stretched taut.

He swallows and hastily taps at your screen. “Ten.” It’s later than he expected.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Is it okay with you if I leave a little early? Emi’s sister invited me to dinner. I forgot to tell you. It’s at eleven. I want to go home and get ready.”

The photographs the detectives showed you at the restaurant last week flash through his mind. He’d wanted to pummel the man for upsetting you that much. “I don’t want you walkin’ alone—”

“I’ll be fine. It’s only ten.”

Osamu notices you don’t wait for him to agree as you gather your things into your purse.

Emi’s boyfriend is missing.

Osamu doesn’t tell the police the knives they’re taking away are almost brand new.

He doesn’t tell them that you took the old ones to the recycling centre two weeks ago.

He tells them you left the restaurant at ten, and that it was eleven thirty when he finished; a little later than usual, but that was to be expected— he didn’t have your help, after all.

He doesn’t tell them it should have been well past midnight.

You don’t say anything at all, merely watching the detective as you wash out the splattered soy stains on a napkin a clumsy customer had been using. The water runs brown.

He can't get Atsumu's words out of his head.

‘Is everything alright between you two?’

Osamu is watching you clean the sink again. He should be mopping the floor tonight, but he finds himself rooted to the spot.

‘Sorry, I don't mean to be nosy.”

You turn on the faucet, washing away the soap with a face that’s far too serious for what you’re doing.

‘She just looks like there’s something on her mind lately.’

Did you? Osamu doesn’t know anymore. When did you start feeling like a stranger?

He doesn’t want it to be like this. “I haven’t seen Emi’s sister around—” he starts.

“We decided to stop seeing each other,” you reply, never turning back. “Too painful. For both of us.”

You never told him that. He tries to convince himself it’s only because he didn’t ask, but he never had to, before. Osamu realises he doesn’t even know the sister’s name.

The faucet shuts off, but you just stand there, palms resting on the edge of the sink, head hanging over it. Despite everything, his heart wrenches. When he reaches out to touch your shoulder, you don’t tense like he’d been expecting— like he’d been afraid of.

No, you lean into his touch; and he finds the courage to gently pull you back, turn you to face him. You look at him, really look, for the first time in days. Osamu can’t imagine how he could think your face would ever be unfamiliar to him.

The moment is perfect. He could pretend everything is fine now, he thinks. It wouldn’t even be that hard. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just ask you to meet him outside, while he gets started on the shutters.

He doesn’t know why he says, “Is there something… I should know?”

Something changes.

Your mouth is a straight line. Neutral.

Impassive.

Just like Emi.

The light bulb flickers.

please like/reblog/reply if you enjoyed :) [my other fics]

#osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #my fic

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mrsshabana · 1 year

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Kaigaku X Female!Reader

♥ CW: 18+ content, MDNI, smut, creampie, dubcon, rough sex, degrading

♥ AN: This is my first time writing for Kaigaku! There needs to be more content out there for him, so I wrote this for my friend @siyotani! I hope you enjoy it! (*^▽^*)

♥ WC: 1,011

The only reason you decided to go to Gyutaro’s house party in the first place was because you knew Kaigaku would be there. You aren’t much of a party person, but Kaigaku is worth it. Not only have you had a crush on him for the past few months, but you get the biggest high out of teasing him.

Purposefully wearing push-up bras and bending over in front of him, just to see his flustered expression. The anger and frustration building within him because he can’t do a damn thing about it because the two of you are never alone.

That is until tonight. When he followed you to the restroom. Slamming the door behind you as he pushes you against it. Covering your mouth with his right hand and locking the door with his left.

“You think this shit is funny don't you?” he spits as he starts unbuckling his belt, “Teasing me all the goddamn time?”

He smirks, “It ain’t so funny now is it?” he pulls out his hard cock, slapping it against your thigh, “You’re about to get what you deserve.”

“Fucking slut,” he mutters under his breath as he uses his knee to part your legs.

You try to speak, but all that comes out is pathetic whimpers, muffled by his hand over your mouth. This isn’t how you expected things to go. You had barely even interacted with him tonight. But just the sight of you in that short skirt was enough to push him over the edge. Enough to remind him of the countless times you’ve given him blue balls and forced him to fuck his fist in the bathroom just to get rid of that annoying hard-on. Only for it to come back the moment he saw your face again.

Nothing has ever infuriated Kaigaku as much as you have. And when he saw you go to the bathroom by yourself, he didn’t think twice before following you.

He removes his right hand from your mouth, giving you the chance to speak, “Kaigaku plea-” you’re cut off by him shoving his fingers into your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up, the only noise I want to hear from you is you begging for my cock. You hear me?” he growls, looking at you expectantly.

When you don’t respond he slaps your cheek, “You hear me?” he repeats.

“Mm hm!” You nod and your eyes start to tear up.

With his other hand, he loops his fingers into your panties and forcefully pulls, ripping them off and sliding his fingers along your folds.

His expression changes and his mouth gapes open when he feels how wet you already are.

“Y-you’re wet… so you like this huh?” he smirks, “I knew you were nothing but a whore.”

He wraps his left hand around your thigh, pulling it up and around his waist. Pumping his cock a few times before pushing it into you with a single harsh thrust.

“Ngh!” You whine around his fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as he gives you no time to adjust to him. His cock is larger than you had expected, it fills you to the brim as he sets an aggressive pace. Fucking you ruthlessly.

“F-fuuuuck,” he groans, “Who would’ve guessed you’d be so damn tight.”

Drool rolls down your chin when he removes his fingers from your mouth so he can lift up your shirt. His eyes stay fixated on your tits, watching them in awe as they bounce from his thrusts.

“K-kai…” you moan.

He smirks and pushes his body further against yours, pressing your back firmly against the door.

“Shh, I know it feels good,” he hisses, “gonna make this pretty little pussy cum all over my cock.”

He firmly grasps the back of your thighs with his hands and lifts you up, holding you firmly as his cock continues to slide in and out of your gummy walls. His leaking tip repeatedly hitting your cervix with every thrust.

It’s getting harder and harder to stifle your moans. So you hold onto him and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

He grabs your hair and pulls it back, “I didn’t say you could hide your face from me. I like the way your face looks when I fuck you,” he emphasizes his words with a brutal thrust.

“Ah! K-kai! I’m gonna - I’m gonna,” you scream, unable to form a sentence.

“Fuck,” he grunts, picking up his pace and moving his fingers to rub circles into your clit, “Cum for me, doll. Cum for me and maybe I’ll reward you by giving you all my cum~”

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your legs start to shake, it’s all too much. His cock ruthlessly bullying your pussy and his fingers rubbing your clit, it’s too much for you to handle and you feel your orgasm approaching like a tidal wave.

“Ah-ah! Kaigaku!”

Your walls convulse and tighten around him, forcing his cock to start spewing rope after rope of hot sticky cum into your womb.

He crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. He bites your bottom lip until it bleeds as his orgasm fades.

His dick twitches a few more times before he pulls away from you, abruptly letting go of your thighs. You hit the ground with a thud.

“Fuck Y/N… you did good,” he looks down at you as he zips up his pants, “Might have to use you again sometime soon.”

He leans down and moves a strand of hair out of your face, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind right?”

“O-of course… anything for you Kai…” you mutter from your spot on the floor.

“Good girl,” he stands back up and carelessly tosses you a hand towel, “Now clean yourself up before anyone sees what a whore you’ve been.”

He looks back at you one last time, with a sick grin on his face, and leaves.

Leaving you a disheveled mess. Sitting on the cold bathroom tile as his seed seeps out of your used pussy.

#kaigaku #kaigaku inadama #kaigaku smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kaigaku x reader #kaigaku x y/n

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mucherbuncher · 3 months

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Daryl x Reader

daryl x reader fic

requested by my mutual

this is my first time actually writing a one shot on tumblr and honestly i’m so exited. i’m still tryna figure out this app bc i literally downloaded it feb. 7th so plz forgive me i’m just a girl. also ignore that none of the “i”s are capitalized i really don’t care.

HOW DO YALL CHECK THAT WORD COUNT??

no warnings other than talking about eating sun disgusting ass food

if i do a part two there’ll be sm!t 🫣

I drew into the dirt absentmindedly with my fingers, bored out of my goddamn mind while Daryl cooks a snake over the fire. I didn’t look at it, because as queasy as i already was from hunger i wasn’t gonna make it worse. I had already eaten a few worms yesterday, something i’d never thought i would’ve done. To be honest, it was Daryl’s idea.

I had been doing everything to stay by his side after the prison fell, including silently obeying him and following him around like a lost puppy. I probably could survive on my own, but having someone by my side made it way easier. I got lucky being stuck with him, at least in the survival sense. Emotionally, or even socially, he was on airplane mode. He barely spoke, barely even looked at me. I didn’t mind it so much for a day or two, but it’s about to be day four. I couldn’t take it anymore.

He used his dirty knife to cut the snake in half, then peeled the skin off. It sorta reminded me of those giant gummy worms that you could get at a candy store, except pink and charred with visible bones.

“Here.” He reached across the small fire to hand me it. I looked up in disgust, hesitantly reaching out to eat the… thing.

It was chewy, like a well done steak. It didn’t taste like that though. It tasted pretty earthy, almost like a bug or something. The closest thing i can compare it too was grasshopper flavored fish. Wow, so appetizing.

I ate my entire half, and ripping off a small piece of rib bone from the spine to clean my teeth. I stared into the fire, like Daryl did. I used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, unfortunately only spreading more dirt onto my face. Daryl looked about the same.

“What are we doing?” I blurted out, my voice a little hoarse from not talking all day.

Daryl looked up from the fire, staring at me blankly. His eyes practically glowed that pretty steel blue color, and I already felt slightly unnerved from his stare.

“Are we even gonna try to look for anyone, or are we just gonna keep running everyday?” I continued on, my voice growing stronger as I felt more emotions setting in.

“No point.” He grunted after a few seconds of silence.

“But there is. We need the rest of the group, they could all be still alive, together, maybe.”

“Look around, do ya see anyone waitin for us?” He spat, his voice getting a little louder.

“Your a tracker, so track.” I hissed, my eyes narrowed as i felt more and more frustrated with this man.

“Fine. Get yer ass up.” Before I could even think or retort back, He grabbed his crossbow and started kicking dirt into our little fire.

“Daryl, it’s dark…” I muttered, suddenly feeling small at the way he’s acting so pissed.

“This whatchu want, right?” He grabs my arm and yanks me upwards, and I stumble a little before tearing my arm back.

“Stop. Stop it right now.” I stare into his eyes, clenching my jaw a little in anger.

He starts pacing, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s trying to hide his face from me.

“There ain’t no point… what if- what if they’re all gone? I can’t… i won’t…” He wipes his eyes with the back of his arm, and i realize, he’s fucking crying. I can handle children crying, even other girls. But when a grown man cries… it makes me want to start sobbing.

My heart sinks and i feel an awful twinge in my stomach. I shouldn’t have pushed him. Fuck me…

“Hey…” My mouth has gone dry, i’m not totally sure what to do here. With the fire gone, and only the moonlight to allow me to see his face, im struggling.

“S’ not… I don’t know what to do.” He chokes a little, and that was my final straw. I pull him in towards me, grabbing his huge tan arms gently. I take the back of his head and put it against my neck, rubbing his back gently. His hands fall limply at his sides as he gives up.

“S’ gonna be alright. We can start lookin tomorrow, alright? You’ve got me. I’m here.” I speak softly and slowly as i reassure him. I’m hoping i’m saying all the right things. He wraps his arms around my waist tightly, restricting my breathing a little.

I hold him there for a long time, rubbing his back slowly as he silent cries into my shoulder. It felt right, comforting him. I was good at it. He needed this badly, and i hoped my optimism would rub off on him.

I pull his head off my shoulder, cupping his face in my hands. They look tiny here, holding him like this. I wipe some of the tears off his pretty face with my thumbs. His eyes bore into the ground, not meeting mine. I knew he felt embarrassed, but it was just the two of us. I wasn’t going to tell a single soul, nobody could make me spill his secrets even through torture.

I brush away some of his greasy brown hair, kissing his forehead gently. His eyes snapped up to meet mine. Shit… was that too much? I force myself to keep a calm expression, gazing at his puffy red eyes.

“M’ gonna start the fire again, okay?” I say gently. He nods, taking a step back and sitting down on the ground.

I fumble the lighter a little in my hands as i grab the kindling, and a small flame peeks through. i slowly start adding more fuel, until a steady flame is going. I scoot back to sit next to Daryl again, gently guiding his body down until his head is resting on my lap.

“C’mere.”

His huge body weighs down on my thigh, but I honestly didn’t care at all. I brushed my fingers through his messy hair, careful to not tug on any knots as i did so. He looked sorta beautiful like this.

Wait what the fuck. My mind started racing. This man was easily forty years old, covered in dirt and sweat and walker blood. Id known him and treated him like a friend for nearly two years now, but now… I treated him as if he was glass. He probably felt like it, broken after standing strong against all the hardship he’s faced his whole life. I knew bits and pieces, how he depended on Merle since he couldn’t rely on his shitty dad. His mom has been gone since he was a child.

I needed to be here for him. He’s become my protector, but I, a young woman, cared for him in a way i hadn’t for anyone else in a long time.

His chest rose and fell peacefully, and I knew he was starting to fall asleep. There wasn’t much to protect us from the elements other than a small wool blanket we’d been sharing for the past few days. I grabbed my bag, and carefully moved his head off my thighs to rest on the bag instead. I stepped around his body and curled up against his chest, making myself little spoon. I grabbed his crossbow, curling that close to my body just in case. I felt his arm swing around me, pulling me just a bit closer than i already was.

“Ya okay here?” He asked, speaking softly into my ear.

“Mhm.” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, smiling just a little. What a funny man.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion x reader

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