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celtic-crossbow · 9 months

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I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.

Daryl was not so easily mollified.

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.

You weren’t afraid of him.

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.

Still, you stayed.

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.”

“Why the fuck do you even care?!”

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded.

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.

“Ya do?”

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.

A confession.

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

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discopaddock · 9 months

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RUNAWAY CAT - MAX VERSTAPPEN

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff

WORD COUNT: 734

WARINGS: none

Y/N definitely wasn't expecting a guest on that day. She wasn't expecting anyone to visit her since she lived kilometres away from her family and yet she hadn't made any friends in Monaco since she was spending all her time in the court, where she was working.

When she first heard the knocking she thought that it came from the front door. But when she left her bedroom she understood that the knocking was coming from the balcony door.

And it was normal knocking like if it was done with a hand. It sounded like scratching on the window.

And then she saw it.

A cat was sitting on the floor of her balcony and it looked a bit anxious.

“Oh fuck” the girl mumbled. She was fucked. She was allergic to cats and now one was at hers and looking at her with its big, black eyes.

She quickly opened the door and let the cat into the living room.

“What are you doing here, cat?” she asked, watching as the cat jumped on the blanket placed on the sofa and stretched. “Achoo!” she sneezed, feeling her chronic illness. “Sorry if this feels rude, but you gotta go, cat. Achoo!” she sneezed again and the cat only purred and started going to the front door as if it understood her.

The girl grabbed her phone, tissues and keys and opened the door to let loose the cat. She was surprised as the cat waited for her as she was closing the door.

She knocked on every door she found on her way but no-one was the owner of the cat. She really wanted to give in but when she was on the eleventh floor some nice older couple told her to get to the penthouse on the highest floor and wished her good health as she was sneezing the whole time.

Y/N quickly got to the penthouse with her watery eyes and knocked on the door. She sneezed again as she was waiting with the cat in her hands.

The door finally opened and a guy with blonde hair stood in front of Y/N.

“Hello, is this your cat?” the girl asked and sneezed again.

“Oh my lord, yes! I've been looking for him for the last hour” the guy breathed a sigh of relief and took the cat from her. “Sorry for this situation, Sassy is like this sometimes” he said and put Sassy on the floor so he could go to Jimmy. “Is there anything I can do as a thank you?” he asked, looking at her as she was blowing her nose.

“Nothing comes to my mind at the moment. Let's say you just owe me a favour. My name is Y/N” she said and shook hands with Max, who was smiling a bit as he was introducing himself.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he saw the girl sneezing again.

“Yeah, I just have an allergy to cats, so I should be going by now. Goodbye, it was nice to meet you, Max” she smiled.

“It was nice meeting you too, I hope your allergy won't haunt you for a long” Max laughed a little, so did she and she started going to the elevator and when she was in it, he shouted after her: “Hey! Tell me your address!”

“Apartament 483 on the fifth floor!” Y/N yelled back and then the elevator door closed, so she wasn't seeing Max anymore.

“Jeez, Sassy, how did you get on the fifth floor!” Verstappen asked his cat as he came back to the living, where both of the cats were hissing at itselfs.

Max sat on the couch and started thinking about this whole situation. He was really scared when he found out that his kitty wasn't anywhere at his house. He quickly went to his neighbours, who had an apartment by his as he knew Sassy went to them sometimes. But he wasn't there so Max decided to wait and maybe his beloved cat would come back home soon.

And then, after an hour he heard a knock on his door and saw this pretty girl he had never seen before with Sassy in her arms. He was so happy he saw her at his doorstep.

He knew he needed to know her more. He couldn't lose an opportunity like this. It was his chance.

masterlist

#discopaddock #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula 1 angst #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic

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becauseplot · 10 months

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Okay so something about the spiderbit wedding has been sitting in the back of my mind for awhile now and I don't know if anyone's talked about it but I just recently figured out the words to articulate it (kind of) so here we go!

Prior to the q!spiderbit wedding, a lot of the fanart/fanfics I saw/read depicted Cellbit waiting at the altar while Roier is walked down the aisle by either Foolish or Vegetta. Which makes sense! It keeps with the idea of the father "giving away" the bride (or in this case, the groom) at the wedding, which wouldn't be possible for Cellbit since he doesn't have any parental figures on the island. So, I was a little surprised when the wedding day came and Cellbit was the one to walk down the aisle while Roier waited at the altar. I was a bit disappointed at first---they missed a chance to do a sweet little spin on a wedding tradition! (Found family* my beloved <3)

But then I kept thinking---something about Cellbit walking down the aisle. Something about Cellbit walking down the aisle. Something about Cellbit walking down the aisle to the altar where Roier, his soon-to-be husband and trusted confidant, stands; where Felps, his best friend whom he just got back from an unknown fate, stands; where Forever, the friend he wronged but never lost faith in and wants to do right by going forward, stands.

Something about Cellbit being alone and walking himself down the aisle towards them like he is making an active choice. After the fear and the isolation, pushing others away and hurting those close to him so he could make himself a martyr because he felt like he had to face the Federation alone and that he could only rely on himself---now choosing to walk towards the altar where they stand---walking towards his happy ending.

Because this is his happy ending. I'm not at all an advocate for the idea of "oh romance/marriage is the only thing that will make you happy in life" but not only is being married to Roier something Cellbit desperately wants, this wedding means so much more than just getting married.

Of course, this isn't really the end, but for someone like Cellbit, it's a start. A new beginning. A brand new chapter of love, friendship, and trust. So yes, Cellbit walks down the aisle at his wedding, and he does it alone, and he does it because he deserves it, and he does it because he wants to, and he does it because he has to, and he does it because he needs this.

*I would just like to note that found family does not have to follow a nuclear formula with parent-child roles and I don't wish to propagate this misconception. That's just how Roier's family is structured in canon. Foolish and Vegetta are boyfriends and Roier calls them (or at least Foolish) "dad" that's just how it is and it is beautiful <3

Also apologies if I get any lore wrong. I'm not a Roier or Cellbit main viewer but I learn a lot through what I do watch of their streams and what I absorb through my dash. Hopefully this still makes sense.

#qsmp #qsmp spiderbit wedding #spiderbit #guapoduo #qsmp cellbit #q!cellbit #spiderbit wedding #yeah i know that everyone's talking about the debates right now but ive been busy all week and im behind on vods #so here have a spiderbit wedding word-vomit post and ill talk about the debates later (maybe)#im reading this back to myself after posting and boy i sure do love italics huh lmao #edit: tiny amendment to this post (bc my brain wont shut up) but i should note that ofc jaiden is also part of roier's little family-#-but i didn't include her in the footnotes bc this post was already getting long and tbh the different kinds of families-#-on the island deserves its own post but i dont have any Big thoughts on the matter apart from it's vvvvv nice to see <3 #dont mind me im just rambling

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jeystattoos · 8 months

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Lady of Neptune - Jey Uso x Reader

Jey Uso x Black Reader!

Word Count: 1538

18+

"No, cause I need you baby. When I fuck you all the ways that you want it, don't ever leave me baby."

August 22nd was practically a national holiday. You treated it as such. It was the day that your beloved boyfriend Jey Uso, and his twin Jimmy Uso were born. It was no secret that the Fatu family was compiled with some of the most beautiful humans to ever grace the Earth.

Jey truly didn’t age, he aged backwards. He didn’t look a day over 27, his skin was supple and soft. His body was like a living masterpiece; he was running out of skin to cover with his tribal tattoos. Sometimes you enjoyed tracing every single intricate detail with your tongue, using it to drive Jey absolutely insane.

You’d been sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He’d spent half the day with his twin, and you enjoyed watching the shenanigans they’d gotten into throughout their day. You were a bit too excited to give him his presents. Jey wasn’t a materialistic man by any means, but he did have an affinity for the nicer things in life. He busted his ass for the money he earned, so he spent it on whatever caught his eye, or yours.

He was a sneakerhead, so he was always looking for the flyest pair of Jordan’s. He also enjoyed Rolexes, so he kept a small collection of those as well. You’d secretly spied on him while he was on the phone, looking at the latest editions of the watches and sneakers. To say you’d spent a pretty penny on these luxury gifts would be an understatement. The price didn’t matter, though. You enjoyed spoiling your man with the things he loved, but you had a feeling he’d be more interested in what you’d really gotten him.

Jey was a sucker for you and every little thing you did; he couldn’t contain himself when you wore lingerie that hugged every part of your curves. He was obsessed with your body, in love with the thickness of it. Your thighs didn’t stand a chance, as they were always bitten up by your man.

You’d found a spicy new set from SavagexFenty in a deep maroon color, with a matching silk robe. The kitten heels were a nice touch, complimenting the soft makeup you’d done as well. Jey loved the way that your 4C curls fell in perfect harmony down your back, so you made sure that they were on full display for him.

The sound of the door unlocking made your heart stop. You sat up on the couch, waiting impatiently for him to step through. As Jey emerged through the door, you rose to your feet. His eyes fell over you, licking his lips as he made his way towards you. He was wearing that sexy smile. “Damn, hey baby.” He greeted you with a soft kiss on the lips. His strong hands were around your waist, holding you tight against his rock hard figure.

“Hey baby, I’m glad you’re finally home. I’ve been waiting for you.” You said with a smile, running your fingers through his dark curls. Jey’s smirk grew, as he kissed your jawline.

“Yeah? What’s up with the presents, baby girl?” He motioned towards the two boxes that were wrapped, sitting on the couch. You smiled and took him by the hand, leading him over to the couch. You handed him the big box first. “Open this one first!”

Jey looked up at you, before he ripped into the box. He pulled out the Jordan 1s, Chicago edition. They were the hardest to find, and you knew how much he wanted them. You sat in his lap, watching as his eyes twinkled with excitement. “Baby girl… how the hell did you find these?” He looked up at you, smiling from ear to ear. You smirked and kissed him softly.

“I have my ways, baby. Now, open this one.” You handed him the smaller box. Jey didn’t waste any time opening it. When he realized you’d also got him the Rolex Midas, his cheeks were full from how hard he was smiling. His happiness made your heart flutter.

“Oh my God, thank you so much baby.” Jey sat down the presents, returning his attention to you. He gave you a million little kisses. You pulled away briefly, smirking deviously at him. “There’s just one more gift,” You rose to your feet, and began to take off the robe. Jey’s eyes followed your every movement. The robe dropped to the floor, your brown body on full display in the sexiest lingerie you’d ever worn. Jey’s gaze was lustful, as his eyes flicked up to look into yours. He slowly rose from his seated position, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“God damn…” He cursed, before diving in for a hungry kiss. He kissed you aggressively, claiming your lips with his teeth. He nibbled at your bottom lip, soon slipping his tongue into your mouth. One kiss from him and you were weak in the knees. Jey scooped you up with ease, making his way towards the staircase. He marched to your bedroom, keeping the steamy kiss between the two of you going.

You heard the door shutting behind him, your back feeling the coolness from the wall that he’d pinned you against. He momentarily pulled away from your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m finna fuck the shit outta you, doll.” His voice was gruff, barely above a whisper.

Jey let his hands roam your body. His fingers slipped between your inner thighs, tickling your slit. Once he discovered that the lingerie set was crotchless, his eyes refocused on you. He continued to play with your slick folds, smirking down at you as he did so. You were already on the brink.

“I got your pussy drippin’ already, baby.” He taunted, as he removed his hand. He left you aching for his fingers, wanting to feel them inside of your soaking cunt. Jey ripped his jacket and shirt off in one go, his tight jeans soon following suit.

He wasted no time lining his thick cock up with your entrance, beginning to push his length inside of you. He wasn’t giving you time to adjust or prepare, but you didn’t need it. You were used to his size. You enjoyed when he behaved this way; so aggressive and dominant. It turned you on beyond belief. Once he had fully entered, he started stroking quickly. His hand held your neck in place, as he suckled on your neck, leaving hickies everywhere. You’d have to cover them up in the morning.

“You’re the only gift I need, baby.” He grunted, picking up the speed a bit. His grip around your neck tightened, leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Daddy,” You mewled, melting under his spell. Jey let out a breathy laugh, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes. “What’s my name, baby?”

“D-daddy,” You purred, never looking away from his hickory eyes. He smirked, giving you a deep kiss as a reward. “Say it again.”

“Daddy!” You whine, succumbing to his incredible stroke game. He’d slowed down momentarily, using it to his advantage. As you continued to call him Daddy, he continued to tease you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m your Daddy,” He growled in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. He began pistoning in and out of you at an alarming rate. You couldn’t keep quiet, moaning and gasping how good he felt. He was living up to his promise, fucking you into a euphoric state.

“Hnng, mm, ngh,” Unable to form a coherent sentence, you’d been reduced to nothing but a slew of moans. Jey was in love with what he was doing to you. “Good girl. Take my dick, baby.”

Jey pulled you off the wall, wrapping both of his arms around your waist as he bounced you up and down on his cock. The squelching noises of how wet you were filled the room, along with the sounds of passion omitting from you both.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? Are you going to let Daddy destroy you?” Jey whispered, slipping his hand around your neck. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as if you were searching for your words. They’d left you a few strokes ago.

“Y-yes..” You managed to say, tightening your legs around his waist. Jey began to pound you ruthlessly, not letting up for a single second. His thumb flicked back and forth over your clit, grinning as you started to squirt a bit. Your orgasm was on the horizon. Your body felt like it was on a spiritual plane of pleasure, spasming as your orgasm claimed you. Jey didn’t stop, though. He loved to overstimulate you until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck!” You hissed, draping your body against his. Jey braced you against him, feeling you growing weaker in his arms. He slowed down, walking the two of you over to the bed. He laid you down on the mattress, pulling himself out of you. He smiled down at you, before he kneeled in front of you. You pulled yourself up to look into his eyes. “What are you doing, babe?”

Jey laughed. “I haven’t had my birthday cake yet,”

#jey uso #jey uso fanfic #jey uso x reader #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #jey uso smut

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rookiesbookies · 5 months

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Soap’s Wedding under the cut

My masterlist is pinned on my account.

Tooth-aching Fluff

Soap’s wedding was a huge deal with 141. Price immediately stepped up as a father-in-law for Soap’s beloved Fiance. In reality, he had been waiting for this moment with no kids of his own and his group of strays he took on.

Soap sat at the feet of his fiance, his back to the couch she was sitting on as she played with his mohawk. While Price argued with them about being allowed to pay for part of the service. Of course, her family has offered to help pay for a large sum of it, they had been saving for it since she graduated college, however she didn’t want to burden the Captain with their wedding for any reason other then an invitation.

“Captain, while I appreciate the offer, are ya sure? I ain’t ya bloody kid.” Soap interjected, Price went a bit ridgid at the comment. A pang of sadness in the back of his mind at the thought.

The look in Price’s eyes gave Soap’s sweet fiance all she needed to know. She leaned forward to Johnny’s ear and whispered something as she rubbed his shoulder.

“John Mactavish-Price Jr at ya service!” Soap chirped up. Price let out a chuckle and shook his head as planning continued.

Gaz was ADAMANT about handling both the bachelorette and bachelor parties. For the fiance he rented the party room of nice restaurant. Something classy and what he felt the woman about the put up with the sargent for the rest of his life deserved. Gaz’s girlfriend insisted on decorating the bachelorette party as she didn’t trust Gaz to do it.

For Soap? They rented the pub next door. Declaring it the party and giving any poor lad who walked in a shot or a beer in them. He knew better than to get a drunk Soap far from his fiance because he’d just end up calling her the whole time.

Half way through the parties, Soap ended up calling his fiance, blabbering and slurring about how much he missed her. So she and the girls got to go food for the guys from the restaurant and headed over. She found Soap laying all over poor Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who was trying to nurse a whiskey in peace, as Soap cried about not having his lass with him.

Gaz and Simon enjoyed watching her console him, cooing about how she was right there. This Soap was a far cry from the vibrant celebration Soap they had seen an hour ago. At first he didn't even recognize her through his squinted eyes. Until she had gotten him to straighten up.

Price sat there the whole time chuckling. Soap had never been a sappy drinker until he had someone to miss, he nudged you with a laugh. “With how he’s acting I may be walking him down the aisle instead of your father walking you. Its bloody obvious who’s wearing the pants here.”

“Hope he picks a pretty dress when you take him shopping,” she retorted with her own giggle, Soap’s arms around her waist and his face content in her neck with a soft smile. He was blissfully unaware of their jokes.

Soap waited a long while to pick his groomsmen. Everyone knew who they would be.

Price was the easiest ask, Soap did it while holding your hand right before Price offered to help pay. His fiancé asked Price’s wife if she'd be a maid of honor a moment later when they were washing dishes from the dinner.

Gaz and his girlfriend were the next to ask. They had come over for drinks and Gaz had his arm slung around his girl’s shoulder and a beer lazily in the other. It had been a heated debate over soccer (or ‘football’) and Soap shouted, “I wasn’t expecting one of my groomsmen to be disagreeing with me like this!” Or something dumb like that and Gaz immediately shot up to give him a bro hug. Soap turned to his fiance, “I told you he’s see the right side eventually.” Soap’s fiance rolled her eyes.

Asking Ghost to be Best Man was going to be tough. Especially when Simon doesn’t do warm and fuzzy in the traditional warm and fuzzy way.

The original plan was to have dinner with him but when Soap realized Simon wasn’t on base or at his apartment this week. Which meant there was a GIRL.

Soap figured this out while drinking and getting touchy with his fiance, so obviously the next course of action was calling an uber and showing up at Simon’s location with a giant sign and a boombox. Right?

Soap was shirtless, his pants were unbuttoned but zipped. His fiance held the sign that read “BEST MAN?” painted in white on cardboard clearly torn from a large box. She was in her pajamas while Soap played SexyBack by Justin Timblerlake, when that at full volume didn't get Simon out, he played the Scottish National Anthem. He sang it as loud as he could until Ghost’s situationship came to the window and opened it giggling. Simon wasn’t has amused.

“JOHNNY. COULDNT YA HAVE WAITED TILL THE MORNING.”

“YOU HAVE A WOMAN AND YOU’RE GONNA NEED A DATE, SIMON.”

“IF THE MUSIC ISNT OFF WHY THE TIME IM DOWN THERE IM YANKING YA BLOODY HEAD OFF, JOHNNY.”

The music was indeed off why the time a shirtless Simon got down there and introduced his situationship to Soap’s fiance. Simon almost referred to her as his girlfriend but hesitated and just said a friend. Johnny and his Fiance knew better than that with how the way the girl awkwardly stood and was sweating told them that something rough and sweat had happened that night and it wasn’t sparing.

When the actual wedding itself rolled around, the two had done basically everything out of order. Soap need for detail oriented everything made somethings take too long, the adhd nature of his fiance made others go to fast. It took them a week to decide on a song for their first dance because Soap wanted Scotland forever and his fiance wasn’t having it.

Lot of things like that.

Honestly Soap panicked about her dress, worried even the littlest thing could be wrong and he couldn’t even see the dress. Believe it, though, he begged and pleaded to be allowed to check it for problems before the wedding.

When he saw her come down the aisle, it felt unreal. He felt as though he could pass away then and be content. Johnny almost realized the tears coming down his face. It was a beautiful blue and white dress, the colors you can both chosen and the Scottish flag colors he had slipped passed you. The most beautiful blue sash on the most perfect gown for his perfect girl. It was relief. True relief.

Even Simon let tears fall, his face not adorned by his mask for once as it was shoved in Price’s jacket pocket. Gaz whole heartedly sobbed with no remorse. Price wiped a single tear from his eyes before standing strong and putting his game face on.

As the night continued so did the festivities until it came time for the newlyweds to depart. They didn't make it to the hotel before Soap’s hands were up her skirt and she was holding his tie.

Let me know what you want to see more of, my asks are open. To basically everything.

#bc soap would #cod x reader #call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain price #ghost cod #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #soap mctavish #soap x you #soap x y/n #john mactavish #soap mactavish

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call-sign-shark · 2 months

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Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.

First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.

As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.

To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.

I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.

Shark.

#PSA #predator warning #Cillian Murphy #Peaky Blinders #Mrkvidal1989

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partyanimal167 · 8 months

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How Fitting- Crocodile x F!Reader

I'm so happy to see all the new Crocodile content here after that nice man's birthday, so I wanted to add something for all my fellow Croco simps. I've been meeting to write something, so it all worked out. The prompts for his birthday event were certainly helpful too (fashion, au). Requests are open too if anyone has any ideas.

CW: modern au, fluff, fem reader, no pronouns

In all fairness, you were not expecting to be measuring such a specimen within the first week of your job.

The family trade had been sewing for generations, and you were no exception when the call was at your door. Your slight rebellion got you into men's fashion however since you had fond and not-so fond memories of dresses, fluffy underskirts, and berserk brides. Oddly enough, you found yourself to be one of few women in that sector, but you didn't mind so much. You weren't a big name designer, so blending in was easy enough when necessary.

You worked at a well-known shop that had been a community staple for decades. You paraded around in the backrooms where bolts of fabric of all kinds of patterns and materials were stored. You weren't new to this line of work, but you figured you would do simple alterations since most repeat customers had their favorites amongst the tailors.

As you hemmed a pant leg, you heard the bell ring from the front. Soon after, your name was called by your beloved elder boss. You cheerfully walked towards the front not prepared for towering figure at the counter.

It was comical in a sense. Your boss was small and fragile looking compared to tall, muscular man who didn't seem to fit the quaint ambiance of the shop. However, your boss simply beamed at the man who despite having a serious demeanor held some fondness in his eyes.

"I want you to meet Sir Crocodile. He's a very loyal customer here, a familiar face."

You smiled kindly at the man and shook his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The man's lips tugged in a slight grin as he lifted your hand for a soft peck. "Pleasure's all mine." You were surprised by the gesture, but didn't say anything.

"She's quite spectacular in her work. I hope you don't mind, but I'll have her take over for today's suit fitting." the old man went on.

You were caught off guard and held up your hands in defense. "Oh I couldn't possibly. I'm sure the gentleman would prefer your work."

The boss looked at your softly. "Please. My arthritis is acting up." He rubbed his hand for emphasis.

Well you couldn't argue with that.

...

The two of you moved to the back, and you couldn't help but notice the strength of the man's presence.

As you set up your work station, you peeked over.

Crocodile was a man of class. You weren't sure what he did professionally, but the fur-lined coat definitely meant money along with the adornment of rings. You made note of the sleek prosthetic as well that was just as much of a luxurious accessory as well as a functional piece. You could appreciate the sight.

You shook your head slightly before reaching for the roughed suit jacket draft. You glanced over the previously noted measurements and turned again.

Crocodile had taken off a few layers and seemed relaxed. He noted your expression and chuckled. "I'm not new to this."

You blinked before nodding and handing the jacket. "Certainly not."

He put it on and pressed it against himself. You held a couple pins between your lips as your checked the lengths with your tape. You hummed as you worked, but soon felt eyes watching you. You looked up and were met with those captivating golden eyes. "Is something wrong?"

The man grinned and shook his head. "Not at all. It's always satisfying watching a professional at work. "

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment and you turned away to feel the shoulders. "Everything comfortable?"

"Quite."

You two went on through the other elements and noted the addition of a notch for a lapel chain.

"What can I say? I'm a bit old fashion."

You giggled before finishing some adjustments. "I can certainly appreciate that."

"You seem to have a bit of personal style yourself." Crocodile motioned towards your silk tie.

You touched it fondly. "Ah this, it's a memento of my grandfather. He was an excellent suit designer."

"I've seen the design before, but I'm afraid to say I don't have one in my collection."

You stepped off the stool and without thinking much replied, "Well I'll be sure to make you one," then you realized, "of- of course, if you're interested."

Crocodile began to dress in his original clothes. "Certainly. I'd be honored."

You weren't quite sure how to respond, so you hummed as you looked over your notes. "There are only minor adjustments to be made before we finish off. We'll be sure to reach out as soon as your suit is complete."

The man nodded before turning to go. "I look forward to it."

~~~

It was just your luck that you were off the day that Crocodile picked up his suit. The custom tie had been included in the boxes, so there was that at least. You could only hope that you'd see him again. Though, a part of you was nervous that he would find something wrong with suit, but your boss simply stated that it was your newbie jitters.

You were out doing some errands outside the shop when you walked passed a well-known cafe. The smell of savory cigar smoke caught your attention, but you were going to continue walking until you heard your name called.

You turned and saw that well-dressed man approaching you--no suit coat in place and appreciated the fitted vest.

Your heart raced when he again kissed your hand in greeting. "Ah I'm sorry to have missed you when picking up my items."

You waved your hand simply and glanced away. "Oh it's alright. I just hope everything is to your liking."

"Of course, I'm happy to say that many have appreciated the new tie as well. Thank you again." he went on.

You swayed a little and scratched your cheek. "Ah that's wonderful news. I'm sure many would try to get it. Too bad that fabric is very limited in its production."

"I'll treasure any one-of-a-kind piece from you, my dear." that made you lost for words.

"Oh, I'm flattered."

"Only stating the truth." he paused. "How about you join me for lunch?"

You totally wanted to, but looked at your watched. "I'm afraid I have some more tasks to complete."

Crocodile looked a little shock to see someone turn him down but it was quickly replaced with a grin. He reached into his pocket before pulling out his wallet. He handed you a card and looked deep in to your eyes. "Well please reach out when you have a chance. Don't keep me waiting." the eyes kept you locked in and you nodded shyly.

"Of course not."

~~~

I was totally counting on this being a model au and that totally didn't happen. I liked this intimate version though. Crocodile is certainly getting his suits custom and tailored.

Happy birthday to that gruff bossman.

Thanks for reading!

#one piece #one piece x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader #birthday piece #modern au #seamstress au #one piece fanfiction #fem reader #mine #partyanimal167

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

The Queen’s Hand

(Part II: Curse of Harrenhal)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Prologue | Part I

The decision to move their family to Harrenhal did not come lightly. Y/N grappled with the thought of leaving her father to Alicent. But with Rhaenyra and Laenor setting sail to Dragon Stone with their children, to stay is a fool’s errand.

Harwin was right after all, they are happy as Lord and Lady. It has only been a few days since they’ve made the journey. The children have found themselves well at home. Y/N finds more joy in the title gained through marriage than the one she was born into. It is odd, without Rhaenyra and the rest of their family, but they will make the best of it.

The five of them are seated round the supper table. Harwin and Y/N at the head and foot, their children on either side.

“I would like to raise a toast. To your mother,” Harwin lifts his chalice, “my beautiful bride. And to you, our well mannered children. Without all of you this castle would not be a home.”

“Cheers,” Y/N raises her cup with a smile. “To you, my ever loving husband and our wonderful children.”

“Even mother thought well mannered a stretch.” Viserus chuckles, “cheers, never the less.”

“I said no such thing!” Y/N gapes at him.

“We needn’t hear the words, mother. Your face betrays you.” Aemmia cuts in, “cheers to us.”

“To us.” Geniysa says finally. “May we give you half the hell.”

“Geniysa,” Y/N attempts to fight back her smile. “Do not speak that way, it is unbecoming.” Her children are spitfires, just as she had been. The dragon blood courses strong through their veins. That’s what their grand sire, Viserys, had to say on the manner, anyway. The older they get, the more Y/N fears it may be true. Their sharp tongues and whit may truly out do her.

“Your mother loves you.” Harwin tells his children.

“As we love her, father. It’s just a bit of good fun. She’s been gloomy as of late, surely she misses her squabbles with Aunt Rhaenyra.” Viserus tells Harwin.

“Tis true,” Geniysa chimes in, “we thought a bit of back and forth might please her.”

“We wish only to make you proud.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness, I do miss my sister. As I’m sure you all miss your cousins. However the void is not yours to fill. As you live and breathe you have done enough, my dear children. We have made this decision with all of you in mind, we will be sure to visit our family in Dragon Stone soon.” Y/N lowers her gaze to the plate of food before her.

“Let’s eat.”

————————————🌱———————————

The children settle into their rooms after bathing. Tomorrow Viserus will begin training with his father. A kindly step up from the likes of Criston Cole. The plans have been laid on a pit to house the family dragons. As of now, they remain in King’s Landing.

Y/N drifts to sleep with thoughts of flying free, on the back of her beloved dragon, Atara. If only all her dreams were so sweet.

The princess wakes in a cold sweat, her chest heaving for breath she can’t seem to find.

“What is it, my darling?” Harwin springs to action, arms winding around her, voice still rough with sleep.

“There was a fire. I can still smell the flames.” Y/N chokes out.

“Was only a dream.” He assures her.

Y/N brings a hand up to scrub at her aching forehead. “I need to see the children.”

“It is the middle of the night.”

“I need to see them safe, please?”

Harwin presses a series of kisses to the side of her face, behind the shell of the ear. “Very well.”

They stumble about the dimly lit corridors, visiting Aemmia and Viserus’ rooms without waking them.

As the door creaks open to their youngest daughter’s room, she wakes. Blinking slowly at the figures in the entryway “Mother? Father? Is something the matter?”

“Fear not, sweetheart. Your mother wishes only to watch you sleep.”

Geniysa huffs a laugh. “Where I would be in this world if you did not love me so, Mama? Whatever troubles you will keep til morning. We are all well tended.”

Y/N nods, “sorry to wake you.”

“I love you,” Y/N’s daughter calls. “And I will love you more on the morrow.”

“More on the morrow.” Harwin smiles at her, easing the door shut behind his wife. “Are you yet pleased, Y/N? All accounted for. Not a danger in sight.”

Y/N sighs, “back to bed with you,” she waves a hand at him.

“Will you be able to find sleep?”

“Aren’t you going to help me?” Y/N quirks a brow.

Harwin chuckles. “Trouble through and through, you are.”

“I do apologize.” Y/N murmurs, all teasing aside. “For rousing the house.”

“If this is the cost of loving you I will pay it, gratefully. You are not a bother.”

Y/N shakes her head. “My father was nearly driven out of his mind over the song of ice and fire.”

“That is different, my love.”

“These dreams cannot rule my hand.” She mustn’t allow them to govern her as they had the king.

Harwin sighs, “I will let no harm come to our family. I swear this to you.”

————————————🌱———————————

“Y/N! Y/N!” The incessant shaking of her shoulders is what finally wakes her.

“Harwin?” Y/N squints into the darkness. Surely it is not yet morning.

“Let me help you dress.” Harwin all but drags her from the bed. Forcing her gown up over her shoulders. “Remember what I’ve sworn to you? No harm will come to our family.”

“I remember.” Y/N breathes out.

“You mustn’t panic, the maids are gathering the children. We need to leave, now.”

“What’s happened?”

“There’s a fire, started in the east wing. Traveling toward us quickly. We’ve safe passage out, but we must make haste.”

Y/N rushes to the door.

“Your grace.” Y/N’s handmaiden, Angette, waits just outside, with the Princess’s daughters.

“Where’s Viserus?”

“The door is blocked and it will not budge, we have all tried Princess.”

“Out of the way.” Harwin moves swiftly past them to his son’s room. “Viserus!”

“Father! The door has sealed itself shut.”

“Stand away from the door, I’m going to bring it down.” Harwin tells him. And he does try, time and time again. Ramming his shoulder into the wood for what feels like an eternity, before he finally stops. “Give me a moment.”

“Do not leave me!” Viserus cries.

“I will not leave you,” Y/N assures her son. Cheek pressed to the door between them, desperately. “I will never leave you. Your father went to find something to pry the door open.”

“It’s hard to breathe, mother.”

“I know, my sweet, only a moment more.” Y/N coughs, the smoke clouds looming around them.

“Here we are.” Harwin returns with the fire pick, wedging it into the door closure…again it will not move.

Y/N turns to her husband, eyes wet with fear and ash. “What will we do?”

Harwin inhales deeply. “We have to go outside.”

“What?” Y/N demands, grabbing his arm.

“Viserus, I need you to listen carefully.”

“I am.”

“Steal yourself, my boy. The door is lost, we must find another way.”

“But father the window…tis too high up.”

“I know you are afraid, but we are going to fight. Will you fight with me?”

“Yes, father.” The boy agrees.

“Go to the window, open it, let the fresh air in.” Harwin instructs, aware of Y/N fingers restlessly clutching his back. “Take to your bed, grab the thickest coverlet and toss it down.”

“It’s done.” Viserus calls.

“Well done, son.” Harwin tells him. “Now tie the bottom and top sheets together, taut as you can. Bring the bed frame to the window and anchor the fitted sheet to the post.”

“Now what?”

“Toss the loose end out the window and await my instruction.”

“I am frightened.”

“You are brave,” Harwin corrects him.

————————————🌱———————————

“Princess…you are injured.” Angette nods to the ruins of her dress.

“Mother!” Aemmia rushes to her side.

Y/N shakes her head, “it’s nothing.” She knows not of her injuries, nor does she care.

“Gather beneath the window. Each of us must hold a corner. Keep your grasp tight, leave only a bit of give, lest he tear straight through.” Harwin locks eyes with Aemmia as he speaks.

His daughter nods, taking stance with her mother and sister.

“Viserus, now is the time! You must scale down the wall using the sheet. Let go when you reach the bottom and we will catch you.”

“I can’t.”

“My darling, you must!” Y/N calls. “You will not fall, I swear it. Trust in us, we are your family.”

On trembling legs, their only son steps out onto the window sill. Clutching fast to his bedding.

“There we are.” Harwin encourages. “That is the way.”

“Magnificent job, brother.”

“You’re nearly there.”

The praises sound until Viserus is at the end of his line. Dangling no more than a few feet overhead. When he finally lets go, the feeling is no different than flying.

The material of the blanket shifts under his weight, drawing the four corners together and those manning them by proxy. But he is free and he is safe.

————————————🌱———————————

The journey home takes several days. They have two horses, but the carriage was burned to ash. Most of the trek is made on foot, kind people along the way offer aide and safe passage. A kindness to be rewarded handsomely.

The guards behave oddly when Y/N arrives back at the castle. She reasons it is because they are not expecting her back so soon. The family is escorted to the grand hall, though none are dressed accordingly.

Y/N can see her father and Alicent at the forefront, absolutely beside themselves.

The guardsman announces their presence to the crowded room. “The princess, Y/N Targaryen and prince consort Ser Harwin Strong, with their children, Prince Viserus Strong, Princesses Aemmia and Geniysa Strong.”

Y/N makes haste to her father, desperate to know why all the long faces. Viserys meets her half way, fussing endlessly about her face, her hair. “Father,” she stills his hands. “What is the matter?”

“My girl. I thought you…I saw the remains of the castle myself. They told us you were…” Viserys chokes up, “there was nothing left.”

“I am here, father.” Y/N embraces him, watching Alicent’s expression over his shoulder. Even she looks relieved, one hand held briefly over her heart. “I am here.”

“We must have the Maester.” Alicent murmurs to her servant.

“Yes, your Grace.”

“Stay put this time, will you?” The king pleads. He cannot stand this or anything of the sort.

“We shall see.” Y/N agrees, perhaps things will be different now. “There is something else you need know.”

“Then speak it,” Viserys insists.

“We all know the curse of Harrenhal. How it passes judgment.”

“Y/N-”

“I do not think the house set fire to itself. Viserus’ door was jammed shut, sealed in a way we could not open.”

Viserys’ eyes widen a fraction, then his gaze turns from his daughter, to the masses. “My Daughter, Princess Y/N, and her family have been viciously attacked.”

The room is silent, save for gasps of surprise.

“Let it be known, that any attack on my daughters or their houses is a direct attack on your king. Offenders will be punished to the fullest extent of the law!”

Part III

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hotvintagepoll · 7 days

Text

Propaganda

Josephine Baker (The Siren of the Tropics, ZouZou)— Josephine Baker was an American born actress, singer, and utter icon of the period, creating the 1920s banana skirt look. She was the first black woman to star in a major motion film. She fought in the French resistance in WWII, given a Legion of Honour, as well as refusing to perform in segregated theatres in the US. She was bisexual, a fighter, and overall an absolutely incredible woman as well as being extremely attractive.

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Josephine Baker:

Black, American-born, French dancer and singer. Phenomenal sensation, took music-halls by storm. Famous in the silent film era.

Let's talk La Revue Negre, Shuffle Along. The iconique banana outfit? But also getting a Croix de Guerre and full military honors at burial in Paris due to working with the Resistance.

She exuded sex, was a beautiful dancer, vivacious, and her silliness and humor added to her attractiveness. She looked just as good in drag too.

So I know she was more famous for other stuff than movies and her movies weren’t Hollywood but my first exposure to her was in her films so I’ve always thought of her as a film actress first and foremost. Also she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture so I think that warrants an entry

Iconic! Just look up anything about her life. She was a fascinating woman.

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

#josephine baker #anne baxter #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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sungbeam · 8 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧

prince!ji changmin x f!reader (slight juyeon x reader)

1.0k words, my emotional support royalty au, high-key historical au, lots of not-dialogue, literally i don't think swan song will ever fully see the light of day but i love it a little too much to keep her buried

a/n: this is serpent & dove's partner,, except i set the stage for a villain arc bc who doesn't love a villain arc

The moment Ji Changmin stopped wishing to be a part of the family was the one wherein you made your debut into society. There were rules to the royal court, rules that Changmin had long since been schooled in. There were boxes he was placed within, boundaries he was not meant to cross, but there were few invisible, unspoken hierarchies that were always enforced that he had to pick out on his own.

He was only eighteen when he found your familiar eyes, shining in glazed-over discomfort, as you curtsied low at the top of the stairs and made your descent. An official had announced your arrival at the door, and he already spied the dance card dangling from your wrist.

Unspoken Rule One: Bastard children never got first pick.

The main ballroom of the palace was decorated immaculately for this year's debutante ball. Heavy silks embroidered in fine, gold thread were draped from the crystalline window panes; the chandeliers glistened with beads of light like fiery embers; the dance floor was polished and his suit was tight. He couldn't remember tying his tie on so tightly, but the way you looked tonight made him want to break form and loosen the grip of his collar around his neck.

He had never seen you in such tightly laced garb, and he had never seen you so nervous. You, Yn Ln, beloved middle child of the phoenix-represented Ln family—the phoenix a symbol of how generations of your family long ago had risen from the ashes of destitution to the mighty lordship of its current day and age. Your good name automatically thrust you into the limelight, whether you liked it or not.

You were eighteen years old, same as Changmin. You had asked your handmaiden to lace your corset up a little tighter, opting for the one that was made specifically for occasions such as these. It had not been your choice to don the dark, blood red brocade for tonight's festivities—it had been your mother's. You hadn't realized your family even cared to show off their middle child, but you supposed if they could ship you off as quickly as possible, it would be one less daughter to pay attention to.

Unspoken Rule Two: Daughters never got to choose.

It was difficult to not meet his eyes—the pair that you recognized so easily from the academy. The pair you often found yourself staring into as they laughed, as they pondered, as they brooded. He was beautiful, the kind of strong that wasn't brutish, but softer. He was a snake amongst wolves, perhaps the predator that no one ever saw coming.

Your dance card was empty, but his name seared itself into each slot, stealing away each dance like he had stolen a bit of you after all this time. (Or maybe all of you. You wouldn't have minded if that were the case.)

It wouldn't have been appropriate if he left his place from the dais first. It definitely would not have been appropriate if he had left the dais before every other girl was introduced. The room was full of chaperones and young men eyeing their prospects as they filed in, one by one.

(A room of hungry wolves encasing the pack of sheep who had waltzed in, bedazzled and smiling.)

You knew the game though, and you figured two negatives would have to make a positive. Right? That was how it could work. That was the loophole you and Changmin had concocted all those late nights spent in the academy library, tucked away in the corner of the myths and legends aisle, huddled together, conspiring a way to come out of this alive.

Not just alive, but together.

Unspoken Rule Three: Watch out for the wolves.

You were already on your way toward his side of the dais. The half prince was beautiful, but he was only second in line. He had half the blood of royalty; how many would seek him out first?

And there was a spike of hope in your heart. It singed through your glazed expression and made the corners of your cherry-stained lips turn upward in that sickening feeling of hope.

Eyes pinned to the other, you could see the glee in his own expression. It was going to work. This would work how you'd planned, how you'd hoped, how you'd schemed and mapped. You two knew the food chain better than anyone else—it simply had to.

But the room fell quiet as a form stepped before you, blocking your view of the second prince. He was just as beautiful as his half brother, the gold crown seated upon his raven locks a beacon of pride and power. He had kind eyes, a pair you weren't as familiar with, but knew well enough. His suit was tailored perfectly to his body, his smile gracious and almost shy.

"Lady Yn," Crown Prince Juyeon said to you as you dropped into a curtsey and he, a bow, "may I have the honor of stealing your first dance?"

The room was silent. You swore your heart beat thundered against the golden walls of the ballroom.

You couldn't say no. Not to the crown prince. Not in front of everyone.

Perhaps there were things you and Changmin hadn't taken into account.

Unspoken Rule Four: The Crown Prince always gets what he wants.

By some miracle, you found your voice and fitted your quivering, gloved hand into his. "Of course, Your Royal Highness. It would be my honor."

And as Prince Juyeon led you to the polished marble dance floor, you stole a glance behind you at the dais. The second prince stood frozen on his platform, his form never having broken. But in the split second you looked back at him, you couldn't mistake the flash of a promise in those dark eyes you'd fallen so deeply into all these years.

It was a promise… at least, that was what you had thought, as you plastered a smile on your face and let Juyeon lead you through dance after dance. But you should have known better than to think so little of Ji Changmin.

a/n: me taking back my blog bc i can post what i want right :')

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @sodafy @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs

#bjnet #deoboyznet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #q x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz oneshot #the boyz scenarios #ji changmin drabbles #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin oneshots #ji changmin imagines

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crimeboys · 6 months

Text

i don't think i've ever said like. how i actually interpret c!sbi. or at least how it like “happened”. just bc while i know im the crimeboys guy i am also an sbi guy, most of my multi-chapter fics include them, a lot of my oneshots do too.

basically i think phil and technoblade are friends and have been for years, since before wilbur came to existence. they fought together, did a bit of antarctic empire antics together, and afterward they kind of chilled out. techno went back to skyblock and farmed and killed people, phil went back to his single-player world and had a kid (phil is one of the few who is allowed to have visitors on his single-player world bc kristin blessed it, which annoyed tf out of the other sky gods but Whatever), normal stuff. but phil’s kind of a flighty guy, so it wasn’t long before he started leaving more and more, going on adventures with techno again, traveling with or without wilbur. so wilbur was left home fairly often, and was pretty lonely just because, well, single-player world, but phil sent letters, and wilbur started adventuring on his own, and eventually even learned to travel to other servers, met people like schlatt, niki, etc etc.

but yeah, so at some point while wilbur is wandering servers, he meets this annoying kid at the markets who is trying, badly, to steal from vendors, and wilbur tries to be nice and help out this kid who IMMEDIATELY tries to rob him, the vendors, and they both somehow end up with the cops after them. and from then on, it was wilbur and tommy. they’re probably around 8 and 17 ? anyway, wilbur is probably away from home for a while, having adventures with tommy, the same way phil is off having adventures with techno, though they still manage to send letters and such (the crows are at their disposal after all lmao).

at some point, probably like two years later? wilbur and tommy decide to go to the single-player world, wilbur so he can show off his home and also introduce tommy and phil, and BOOM. tubbo is just. fucking there. bc sometime during those two years, phil found tubbo in a box and decided to take him in. it hasn’t been Too long since phil found him when wilbur comes back, but definitely too long to not have told wilbur. he just didn’t really think about it.

and obviously tommy and tubbo hit it off immediately, wilbur is probably a bit wary at first bc he has, y’know, daddy issues, but he ends up very fond of tubbo. they all stay there for a little while, technoblade coming in and out bc he’s besties with phil, fairly fond of wilbur, and finds himself thinking tommy and tubbo are ALRIGHT he GUESSES (he is fond of them too). techno probably teaches tommy and tubbo to fight, probably takes tommy to hypixel and watches his eyes turn to STARS.

but yeah, they all probably go in and out of each others lives, but wilbur, tommy, and tubbo are usually together while phil and techno are usually together. the only blood family are phil and wilbur, and tubbo is like. he’s not officially adopted, he never Really feels like phil’s son or wilbur’s brother, but they gave him a place and tommy gave him a home. also tommy is like. wilbur’s brother but he’s not phil’s son or anything. just gut feelings and shit. and techno is not really Family, just very fucking important to everyone, mostly phil, and comes off like a weird, distant, beloved uncle.

#text post #mine

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dedicatednotobsessed · 7 months

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The Mark of the Dragon [Aegon Targaryen x Reader]

Series masterlist || Other HOTD stories [requests open]

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Summary: You grew up on the streets of Fleabottom for the majority of your life being orphaned at the young age of ten. Apart from your striking hair color, the only thing you inherited from your family was a birthmark on the back of your left shoulder blade. On the week of festivities to celebrate the King’s eldest, Aegon the Second, you end up encountering him. You help him forget about his duties of being Prince and Heir to the Iron Throne until one fateful night…. [AU based where Aegon was crowned heir instead of Rhaenyra].

Warnings in this chapter: Innuendos to fingering/female masturbation; innuendos to getting a blowjob {male giving female}; light petting; light fingering.

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Chapter I

An old tale goes that Aegon the Conqueror shared a mark with his wives, a mark in the shape of a dragon’s head. It is said that according to Valyrian marriage customs, Aegon married his eldest sibling, Visenya, although his eyes were after his younger sister Rhaenys.

Rhaenys was said to reject her brother’s advances at first, believing it was wrong for her to court her brother who was already wed to Visenya although she could not even deny the attraction she had towards him. Every day Aegon would shower her in gifts from the most exquisite dresses to the brightest of jewels proving his love for her. In response, Rhaenys told him; “a dragon does not need material possessions. She does not need clothes or jewels; she only needs the physical touch of her mate.”

Aegon had wanted to show Rhaenys he could be a proper mate for her and devised a plan. He had set up a flight above the stars with his beloved sister; him on Balerion and her on Meraxes. It was a glistening night above the water and when they landed on the shores of Dragonstone.

Aegon was gentle with his hands as they found the laces of Rhaenys’ red dress, his sister having a playful smirk on her lips. “What are you doing, Aegon?” She asked quietly.

“You said yourself all a dragon needs is physical touch.” His lips brushed against hers, getting the ties undone. “And I would like to show you that physical touch you need.”

Rhaenys’ smirk turned into a small smile, her hands easily finding the buckles to Aegon’s doublet. Her lips crashed with his in a heated kiss as he pushed her dress down slowly by the sleeves. She released the kiss for air and quickly helped get his tunic off although she stopped at the sight before her.

“A dragon,” She breathed, her fingers gingerly tracing the shape of the birthmark that rested upon his left pectoral- a dragon’s head.

Aegon furrowed his brows as he watched Rhaenys with a curious glint in his violet eyes. She helped him pull the rest of her dress down and his gaze settled on the matching birthmark wrapped around her right hip. He took a deep breath gripping her by the thighs and pushing her up against a nearby rock, his lips moving back to hers.

“Marry me,” He suddenly mumbled against her lips.

“What?”

Aegon gripped her chin lightly so she would look at him. “That mark,” He breathed out. “Visenya has one just the same on her lower back…you are made for me, my dear Rhaenys. Marry me before the next moon cycle.”

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It was rare to see the streets of Fleabottom in such a festive state, especially the lower parts although the gracious King had made sure that all of King’s Landing’s subjects were to celebrate his eldest son and his name day coming by the end of the week. To you, it was the perfect time to gain a few coins…and not in the most honorable way.

You pushed your way through the crowd; children were running about with loud squeals passing them, a few men already drunk and trying to catch the eye of a desperate whore. You hummed a bit picking up a sweet green apple as you passed a vendor’s stall. You always believed the more gold that lined a man’s pocket, the more foolish he seemed to be.

Your eyes scanned the area as you took a bite into your apple, furrowing your brows a bit. It was quite hard to see possible targets from your position- you needed a better view and knew the perfect place to go. The Madame Madelyne was never keen on your presence and so you needed to get into her establishment without being caught.

You crept into the alleyway beside the brothel feeling along its stone walls until you found the loose stones. You grunted while pulling one free and began to pull the stones surrounding it; you were able to wiggle your way inside once the hole was big enough, it led into the small kitchens tucked away in the corner. Hardly anyone was in there during the busy hours.

“I hope they do not fix that soon,” You mumbled blowing out a breath while tugging your dress down a bit furrowing your brows as you did so.

You sauntered out into the main area being greeted with various couplings- some were men with men, women with women. In a brothel there was no judgement and one was free to live the fantasies that lurked in the darkest part of their mind. Your heart swelled at the sounds of pleasure, it made it easier to take gold from the gullible.

You grunted as you suddenly ran into a body, having tripped a bit while you were trying to make your way through. You looked up to snap at the figure but froze at the piercing violet eyes staring you down- the violet eyes of a dragon. The Prince grabbed your arm so you would not fall backwards, offering you a charming smile as he did so.

“Are you all right?” His eyes scanned over your body, the smile turning into a small lustful smirk. “You should be more careful, sweet one.”

You narrowed your eyes at the nickname before yanking your arm away. “You ran into me if I recall,” You spat.

The Prince’s smirk slowly fell, a look of surprise washing over his features. After a moment though, he chuckled. “I am sure I can change your mind with a good fuck,” He whispered reaching out once more.

You scoffed but let him pull you close by the waist, placing your hands on his chest. “You have come a long way for a good fuck.”

He hummed in response. “Perhaps.” He leaned close to your ear. “Or perhaps I have come a long way for someone to steal the coin off my person,” He whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

You jumped slightly when he suddenly grabbed your left hand that traveled south towards his breeches’ pockets. You met his eyes once more; the eyes of a dragon will be the most terrifying sight, your father used to tell you. You do not know if they are looking down their next meal.

“Do you believe me to be stupid?” He questioned not letting go of your hand as you struggled against him.

“Well, forgive me, My Prince…” You used the title in almost a mocking manner; “but I tend to believe most royals are quite daft.”

Aegon clicked his tongue. “You certainly have the mouth on you, girl.” He licked his lips while he looked over you. “But perhaps…I can find a better use for it.”

Your face contorted into disgust. “I would rather rot in the cells.”

“Actually, that comment could cause you to lose your tongue, but I am feeling generous.”

You stepped back once he let you go, furrowing your brows. “Am I supposed to feel grateful?”

Aegon chuckled. “I would. I can make sure you feel grateful.”

You hung your head, a small laugh passing your lips. “I will make a deal with you, My Prince….” You began, taking his hand. “Let me show you what real gratitude looks like then we may do what you like.”

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The First Night

You leaned against the wall fiddling with the few pieces of gold you managed to take off of a fat drunkard. You told Aegon to meet you under a worn down sign of an inn called The Weary Archer. It was more of a run down ale house with quite a few shady characters, but those shady characters turned into good profit for you. You were always one to take a little gamble at life.

You glanced up hearing the footsteps, a small smirk filling your face at the sight of the Prince walking over, the hood to his cloak still pulled up. “Why are you concealing yourself? Everyone knows who you are and this celebration is for you.”

Aegon chuckled a bit. He had chosen his whores over you the previous night but he had given you a chance this night. “I do not want my special guest to be bombarded.”

You cocked a brow. “Your special guest?”

“Well, you do not enjoy me calling you sweet one.”

You hummed a bit. “Perhaps it is because I believe I don’t deserve the title of being the Prince’s sweet one.”

Aegon smirked at your words. “Give it time.”

You returned Aegon’s smirk before glancing around and taking his hand once more. “I thought I would start the night off with a play in the square. I know it may not be your sort of taste, My Prince but it could give you a good laugh.”

Aegon’s smirk turned into a playful smile as you tugged him into the busy streets of Fleabottom, your own silver hair poking out from underneath your hood. You had similar features to a Targaryen, having vague memory of your father with his own silver locks and deep violet eyes. There had always been whispers as you walked the streets which led you to be a bit more concealing; it was hard to steal when you stood out from the crowd.

You squeezed Aegon’s hand as you stood in the midst of the crowd gathered around the small stage, mediocre actors performing a story about a lowborn girl falling for a handsome Prince; something out of those fantasy books. You smiled lightly hearing a chuckle slip past Aegon’s lips here and there.

“Are you enjoying the story, My Prince?” You asked softly glancing up at him.

Aegon smirked a bit looking down at you. “It is quite different from the stories I was read to as a child.”

“Oh?” You cocked a brow at him. “And what kind of stories were you read to as a child?”

“History about the Targaryens…nothing too exciting.”

You hummed. “It does sound quite boring.”

“Do you know any good stories then?” He whispered in your ear, the crowd laughing at how foolish the actors were being on stage.

“Like most common folk, I can not read, My Prince,” You replied quietly, your eyes watching the play. “My father used to acquire books and would show me the beautiful painted pictures within them.”

Aegon only hummed in response, clapping once the play was over. “Now where to….” He trailed off for a moment, a look of realization washing over him. “I did not catch your name the previous night.”

You smirked grabbing onto his hand. “You can call me thief for now if you’d like.”

He chuckled at that. “That would give you away, surely. You must have some sort of name I can call you.”

You stayed silent while beginning to push through the bustling crowd of people. “In time, Good Prince.”

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The Second Night

You walked down the street, arm in arm with Aegon while looking over the various vendors. Every merchant was trying to outsell the other, trying to entice you to come over and look at their wares. You held up your hand, giggling a bit at their desperation.

“Do you see anything you like?” Aegon asked you softly. “Or anyone?”

You met his eyes and smirked at the violet lustful flames. Another night had passed where Aegon had ended up with the whores in Madame Madelyne’s establishment. His hunger seemed to only grow though; he was not satisfied with the common whores.

“Perhaps,” You responded after a moment. “But I rather keep my urges to myself.”

Aegon groaned. “There has to be someone…is there anyone in your company at The Weary Archer?”

You shook your head eyeing a woman as you passed. You reached out gingerly taking her coin purse that was hanging off the side of the belt around her dress, stuffing it quickly into your own purse. Aegon watched you curiously but did not say anything.

“It could get quite lonesome without the company,” Aegon said after a moment.

You laughed. “You act as though I do not know how to keep myself entertained on a rainy night.” You turned to him stopping at a pillar. You placed your hands on his chest, leaning up slightly to reach his ear. “I like to use my fingers,” You whispered.

You pulled back, a small smirk forming on your lips at the visible hard swallow Aegon made. “But maybe I do need a second pair of hands to help satisfy my needs. I do not always…reach my limit. A whore’s mouth can be good but a Prince’s tongue would do quite nicely.” Your eyes flickered down to his breeches, your smirk only widening at the growing sight. “You best get that taken care. It can be quite uncomfortable.”

Aegon grunted, gripping onto your hips through your dress. “Perhaps I would like some help from a companion. It has been a difficult week for me as you can imagine and I need to relieve some stress.”

You rolled your eyes but the smirk was still present. “I can only imagine how hard it is being a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“It can be especially when it is your name day week and you truly do not wish to celebrate it. My father says he is to announce to the Realms that I am to be his heir once he passes.”

You furrowed your brows at the saddened tone to his voice and moved his hands from your hips, linking your arm with his once more. “That does not sound too bad, being King. You will be pampered and can have your subjects do as you please.”

Aegon looked down with a nod lightly tapping your arm before giving it a light squeeze, his actions confusing you but you stayed silent. “I never wanted the throne. If I could I would give it to my half sister, Rhaenyra or even my younger brother Aemond. Gods know they would be better suited for it than me.”

You looked up at him, placing a hand over his, his flesh warm. “You need to have more confidence in yourself,” You said offering him a small smile when he looked down at you. “A good ruler always rules with the confidence within their heart.”

Aegon opened his mouth slightly but closed it again as you moved your other hand to his cheek, your touch gentle. “You only need confidence in yourself,” You whispered.

The Prince blinked in surprise; it seemed as though he had never gotten such kindness before. He snapped his head over as vendor stuffed a basket full of roses in his face.

“Ah!” The older lady recognized the silver haired man, giving him a smile filled with rotten and yellowed teeth. “Would you like a rose for the lady? It will only be three gold.”

Before you could reject the vendor, Aegon reached into his coin purse and handed it to the woman getting a yellow rose. He turned to you lightly pushing your hood off taking in your full appearance. Your silver hair was darker than his but it caused shock to wash over him nonetheless.

He didn’t make a comment about your hair as he pushed it back behind your ear before slipping the rose in. “My rose,” He breathed out.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “I-I’m sorry?”

Aegon chuckled. “Since you will not give me your name, you will be called my rose.”

Your expression softened, a soft smile forming. “I like that.”

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The Third Night

“My Prince, this is too much.” You laughed while looking yourself over in the longview mirror.

Aegon hummed while leaning back in his seat, his eyes scanning over your body. He had gifted you a lilac colored gown made of a light fabric with a slight sheerness to it; it had an intricate pattern on the plunging neckline paired with a simple amethyst necklace settled over your breasts.

“It is not enough I say.” He stood up as you turned to face him fully. “You look absolutely stunning, Rose.”

You giggled at the nickname still not used to it while you grabbed your cloak clasping it around yourself. “Are you going to tell me where we are going tonight?”

The Prince blew out a tired breath. “It has been a long day and I need to distract myself,” He replied plainly. “We are going to be watching the fireworks show at Madame Madelyne’s establishment on the roof.”

You made a face of disgust at the mention of the Madame. “Are you planning to have your way with me at the brothel?”

Aegon smirked lightly. “Would it be bad if I said yes?”

You rolled your eyes but grabbed onto his hand; you did not let him see the smirk lingering on your features. You led him into the streets once more, people gleefully shouting as they chased each other. Some were in the square dancing causing a bright smile to appear.

“Do you know how to dance, My Prince?”

“Not particularly.” Aegon rubbed the back of his neck a bit sheepishly.

You giggled tugging him towards the square. “It is really not hard, My Prince.”

Aegon opened his mouth to protest but you took his arm spinning with him. A small laugh passed your lips as he grabbed both of your arms bringing you close. You interlocked your fingers with his, looking into his violet eyes. They seemed brighter than the first night you spent with him and it is causing your chest to fill with warmth.

You felt your heart beat faster as the music picked up while you danced around the center of the square, laughing loudly when you nearly ran into Aegon, his hands going to your waist to support you. It seemed as though nothing else mattered in that moment; not the band playing the music or the other couplings around you. You could not describe the feeling the Prince gave you but it made your stomach do flips every time he looked at you with similar colored eyes that shone as bright as the sun.

Your breath came in heavy pants when the final drum beat echoed, everyone clapping for the performers but your focus stayed on Aegon. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips before a small smile came on his lips. “The sun is to set soon, we should go to our spot.”

You had begrudgingly followed Aegon towards Madame Madelyne’s establishment, gasping a bit at the view before you. Madame Madelyne had one of the higher buildings in Fleabottom although you never climbed onto the roof just to see how lovely of a view it was.

“It is quite beautiful up here,” You breathed, the light wind blowing at your hair.

“I will have to agree,” Aegon whispered although his eyes were not on the city view.

He tugged you down lightly to sit beside him just as the night sky lit up with the first burst of color- red for House Targaryen. You awed as another shortly followed along with two more the color green for the Queen’s house. Your eyes lit up with each firework that brightened the night sky before your eyes went over to Aegon but he was still not watching the show.

You furrowed your brows feeling him place a hand on your cheek and a force drew you closer to him. Your lips brushed his before they connected in a light kiss, Aegon’s hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You gingerly reached up placing a hand on his cheek, the kiss heated. You felt his other hand travel down your skirt, not thinking anything of it but frowned feeling him move past your stomach. He took three of his fingers and began to rub you over your dress before he slowly lifted his skirts.

“A-Aegon,” You whispered against his lips.

“You wanted a Prince’s tongue,” He reminded you quietly continuing to rub you.

It sent a chill through your spine the closer he got to the opening, pushing your cunt open with his index and middle finger. You fought back a small moan, feeling your breath come in short pants as he pushed his fingers in while he let out a satisfied hum.

“A wet cunt is the best kind of cunt,” Aegon whispered against your lips.

As he pulled back to lean his head down, you took the opportunity to bite down hard on his bottom lip causing him to grunt and pull away all together.

“You stupid bitch!” He shouted reaching up to feel the blood forming at his lip.

“And I told you to give it time,” You snapped with a scoff while collecting your cloak. “I was right about you royals.”

You scoffed and turned to leave, Aegon staying on the roof, baffled. You hoped it would be the last night you would see the short silver haired prince but you did not know that it was far from it.

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thewalkingwillowtree · 1 year

Text

His Fierce Flower

Series Part Listing Found Here

BF2L, Slow Burn - Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Neteyam and Enyu, childhood best friends are both obliviously in love with each other. This is their story.

Important to note before reading:

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam is 22.

En'yuna or Enyu for short (pronounced as N Yunna or N U), is my own creation.

Full recognition, rights and credit is given to the owners of Avatar.

PART 1 - Wounded

They were gone a long time now, longer than expected. En’yuna knew it was only supposed to be a simple mission, but the waiting, the waiting was the worst part.

Jake Sully was an awe-inspiring chief and as Toruk Makto, he had led his warriors through many successful battles. She had to remind herself that this one would be no different.

Neteyam and Lo’ak played an important part of this particular raid however, much to her dismay- acting as scouts. To her, that was practically the front line! And despite the fact that Enyu had sat in the back of every strategy meeting and knew the plan of action for this mission just as well as the other warriors, she couldn’t help her worry.

Currently in one of the healing tents helping Mo’at prepare the area for anyone who may have been injured in the raid, she prayed quietly to Eywa. A quiet pleading prayer that all would return unharmed- especially her best friend and his family.

To distract her looming anxiety, she kept busy by grounding leaves to create salves and balms and helped organize the tent as Mo’at instructed her. Water bowls were filled, clean bedding was laid out and with nervous hands, she unfolded and refolded strips of cloth bandages. And when she completed those, she swept the tent twice and re-tidied the little kitchenette in the corner.

It was not her job to do any of these tasks of course, but she had already finished her harvest inventory for the day and they proved to be useful distractions- she could never sit still at a time like this. Also, she enjoyed the Tsahìk’s company. The elder’s presence brought her comfort.

Enyu felt a bit silly for worrying so much. The rest of the clan weren’t as openly bothered as she was and went about their duties as normal- doing far better jobs than her at hiding their concerns.

The raids had become a normal affair since the return of the Sky People. Naturally one would think she’d be used to it all by now, no?

But how could she? The RDA had taken so much from her clan.

In the first great war, the Sky People destroyed Hometree. Enyu had not been born yet but her grandmother had told her countless stories of their once magnificent home.

When the second group invaded Pandora, she was quite young. It was her first encounter with the hostile humans. Watching in horror from a distance, they came in fleets- thousands of them. Then, in a wave of savage brutality, they burned and destroyed parts of the Omatikaya’s beloved forest.

And so her people fled.

The Hallelujah Mountains became their refuge and even now- years later, they were still living, no- hiding as Enyu called it.

Tuk’s humming brought Enyu back to the present. The youngest Sully’s quiet tune carried from the corner she was sitting in whilst weaving a basket- which she had said was for collecting “secret things”. She would occasionally and excitedly pause to show En’yuna her progress or ask for help on a difficult section and honestly, Enyu envied the little one's innocence.

Kiri was sitting just outside the tent with Spider, doing whatever it was they were doing. Were they seriously pulling each other's tails? They were truly a weird pair sometimes.

Spider hadn’t gone on this raid thankfully. He was still in training- still getting used to his Na’vi body which Enyu could never logistically understand exactly how it happened, only that a year ago he showed up looking very much Na’vi and very less human.

She didn’t particularly care to know how it happened either way. The humans they lived with at High Camp were always doing all sorts of strange things. And although their technology fascinated her, she just couldn’t be bothered to keep up.

“I hate the waiting part,” Enyu muttered to Mo’at while frantically shining a stitching needle for the third time.

The grandmother tutted at her and stilled her busy hands. “Fret not child, Eywa will bring them home soon. They have been through this before many times now.” Picking a violet leaf from her collection, she handed it to the worrying Na’vi. “Chew. It will calm you some.”

As long as Enyu could remember, she had always been a worrywart. She was told that she’d inherited it from her grandmother. Although, she thought that the elder Na’vi had been ten times worse than her.

From young, she had sadly lost both of her parents. Her mother tragically died during childbirth and her father had passed not long after. Enyu was told that he died from the heartbreak of losing her mother.

With no other siblings or family left, it was grandmother Von’yia who raised her. The elder had never had children of her own, nor a mate. And despite the fact they were not blood related, she took in orphaned Enyu and raised her as her own.

Proud of the Na’vi Enyu grown into, her grandmother decided to join Eywa two years ago- leaving their world in peace. The loss of course was very difficult for En’yuna but she’d known that Von’yia had been ailing for some time and truly wanted nothing more than to be at home with Eywa.

So, in truth, the Sullys were really all she had left. Enyu was extremely close to the family. And with four of the members out to battle, of course her nerves kicked in.

“They are back, En’yuna,” whispered Mo’at before the screeching cries of the ikrans returning were heard from above.

Running to the front of the tent and looking up, Enyu could see many mountain beasts flying in, making their way to the cave’s edge to land.

“The war party’s back! Come on!” Tuk shouted while sprinting ahead.

Enyu followed quickly, zipping around tents and work stations- Kiri and Spider not far behind.

Eyes darting at the riders disembarking, she noticed a few of them sporting small injuries, some seeming completely fine and unharmed. Looking ahead she spotted Jake and Neytiri’s ikrans land further away along the cave’s edge- Xalkan right beside them, hissing and screeching and- and without Neteyam.

Her stomach dropped at the sight of his hunched over form on Jake's mountain beast. What happened?!

Hurrying forward, she gave the returning Sullys a quick scan and breathed a tad easier when she saw that they’d all returned- Lo’ak had just landed too.

Spider raced forward to calm Xalkan and Tuk ran straight into her mother’s arms. Enyu however made a beeline for Neteyam who slid off Bob while grimacing in pain.

“‘Teyam,” she breathed, reaching up and carefully pulling his face downwards. She assessed his injuries, her eyes and fingers moved quickly over him.

While she worriedly took in the minor cuts and bruises to his front, he gently shushed her and pried her wandering hands away. Ignoring her questioning frown he quickly tucked her behind him, gaze on his father- already knowing what was about to come.

From there, she gasped at the sight of ugly, bleeding gash on his back and just as she was about to speak, she was silenced by Jake's angry voice.

“FALL IN!”

Lo’ak jumped off his ikran and Neteyam stepped forward- both boys facing their father with their heads tilted down.

“You’re supposed to be spotters. You spot bogeys and you call them in. FROM A DISTANCE!” he roared.

Enyu flinched. Confused, she watched the scene unfold anxiously.

“Does any of that sound familiar?” Jake glared at Lo’ak who stood further back. “Get here!” he demanded, and the younger man shuffled closer. “Jesus, I let you two geniuses fly a mission and you disobey direct orders!”

Enyu worriedly stared at Neteyam’s wound, blood slowly trickling from it. She wanted to go to him but was not brave enough to face the chief’s wrath. Thankfully Kiri came forward instead to check the injury.

“Did either of you have a single thought before you both deliberately put yourself in harm's way? HUH?”

‘Deliberately? Oh is that what happened?’ Enyu thought, a bit irritated now.

“Kiri, can you go help your grandmother with the wounded please.”

“My brother is wounded,” she replied with an eye roll.

But Jake ignored her and gestured to his youngest, “Tuk go with her. GO!”

Though unhappy about it, the two girls obeyed their father and walked off, gazing back every now and again until they disappeared.

Enyu was getting antsy now. She hoped the chief wouldn’t send her away too. Neteyam was injured- and though he had a right to be angry, all Jake seemed to care about in the moment was yelling at him. She didn’t agree with that.

“Sir, I take full responsibility,” said Neteyam, still solemnly looking down.

“Yeah you do, because you’re the older brother, you gotta act like it!”

Enyu, glared at Jake over her best friend’s shoulder, uncaringly. ‘That was just uncalled for,’ she thought.

Glancing at Neytiri who was also watching the scene unfold, Enyu waved to get her attention. When the older Na’vi saw her pleading expression as she gestured toward her best friend’s back, she nodded slightly in agreement. Jake could yell at them later, but her son needed a healer.

“MaJake, your son is actually bleeding.”

“Mother it’s fine, I-” Neteyam started to mutter but Enyu seized her chance to step into his side and squeeze his arm.

“You’re not fine,” she hissed, loud enough for Jake to hear. She stared at him with the same pleading look she’d given his wife.

After a few seconds of stifling silence, Jake nodded at them. “Go and get patched up. Go on, dismissed.”

Not needing to be told twice, she silently thanked Eywa and quickly pulled Neteyam along.

The tent was crowded much to her dismay. Mo’at sat behind Neteyam preparing a salve for his back while Kiri was telling her grandmother all about the properties of yalnabark.

Spider however- the pest, constantly teased the injured Na’vi whenever he groaned in pain. And Lo’ak simply hovered awkwardly. At least little Tuk was trying to be helpful by passing items to the elder, when instructed.

“Grandmother, yalnabark stings less. I would rather use that,” Kiri said, plucking another ingredient to grind into whatever concoction she had in her bowl.

“Oh you would? And who is Tsahìk?”

Enyu observed quietly from her corner and felt utterly helpless. She silently agreed with Kiri’s take on the yalnabark but she was no healer so she’d dare not voice her opinion to Mo’at.

Kiri was the healer in training and with them being such close friends, Enyu sometimes joined her on her training days- only on the ones with Mo’at of course, since the elder allowed it.

As interesting as the position was though, Enyu knew she wasn’t suited to be a healer. She also preferred to be on the side lines rather than the battlefield or hunting ground.

When she was younger, Jake would take her along with the other Sully children to learn to fish. Of course while the boys excelled with quick success, she and Kiri did not. Lo’ak had teased them for days for not even being able to kill “a puny little fish,” but she didn’t care.

Eventually she found her niche. She was a Harvester, and proud of it.

“Ow, ow. Ow!” Neteyam groaned in pain.

“Awww, need a kiss on the booboo?” snarked Spider, teasing him again.

“That's enough! Kiri, will you reign in your fool,” Enyu snapped, having had enough of his childish behaviour.

Pleased, Neteyam peeked at her, giving a small smile as best he could. He secretly loved when she got protective over him. Though she was little in stature, she could be quite fierce when she was ready.

Enyu ignored his smile though, she was angry with him right now.

“There.” Mo’at secured the wrapping around his wound. “Now you can go rest.” She thunked him on the back of the head, “And think twice before doing something so stupid again.”

He winced. “Ow! Grandmother-”

“Go, rest.” Then she was off to help another injured Na’vi.

Neteyam stood and walked over to his best friend, gingerly. Ignoring his siblings and Spider who were talking among themselves, he held out his hand to Enyu, frowning when she simply stared at it.

He blew out an unimpressed breath of air. “I see you are going to be stubborn tonight.” He eyed her tiredly. “Look, you can be mad at me all you want tomorrow. You can even yell at me if you want- not that I am looking forward to it. But not now, not tonight. Please?”

Relenting and realizing that he needed her right now she nodded and finally took his outstretched hand, allowing him to help her up.

Neteyam guided her out of the tent and they walked through the encampment in silence- him shooting her furtive glances every now and again and her finding it difficult to keep her simmering irritation at bay.

“So… How was your day?”

“Fine,” she said shortly.

“Did you go out with your group or stay in?”

“Went out.”

“Did you remember to have lunch?”

“Yep.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes,” she hissed, a bit annoyed. He was always nagging her about eating. So what if she forgot to sometimes?

“You know, you’re doing a terrible job at not being mad at me,” he joked.

Silence.

“Why are you so quiet tonight, Flower? Hmm? Usually I can’t get you to shut up,” he said, trying to push her buttons a little, poking her in the side.

She shied away from his touch, grateful they’d finally made it to his family’s nook and headed straight inside.

“Enyu, why are you mad?” He knew it was a stupid question, but he asked it anyway, bracing himself for her response.

Meeting her breaking point, she rounded on him. “Oh I don’t know, Neteyam? Maybe it was the fact that you came home looking completely battered and bruised, all hunched over on your fathers ikran- which was quite surprising because you were only supposed to only be out there as a scout! Do you have any idea how you looked with all that blood all over you? You scared me, you skxawng!”

Unable to meet his gaze and with the pretence of hiding her incoming tears, she stormed toward the food storage area- her hair whipping around wildly as she began to prepare a leaf plate of fruit and dried meat.

“Far from the battle, Neteyam! A scout! NOT a soldier! You promised Jake and you promised me!”

Huffing disappointedly, she pulled out a container holding an assortment of nuts and seeds and added some to the meal.

“I know that you are a warrior and more than capable, I know. But this mission did not call for your intervention! Nor Lo’ak’s for that matter. It was not part of the plan.” She stood and faced him, face marred in anger. “So excuse me for being a little upset about it,” she finished sarcastically.

Neteyam chuckled lightly and his ears twitched in amusement. “You are very cute when you’re angry, Flower. Like a baby nantang.”

She hissed at his joke- the action bringing his attention to her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Enyu,” he murmured, feeling guilty now. “I’m fine. Promise. And just so you know I had no choice in the matter- which we will talk about tomorrow. Grandmother gave me something for the pain, so it’s really not that bad. And you agreed to not be at me tonight. Remember? Now come here.”

“No,” she sniffled.

He closed the distance between them, placed down the plate in her hand and dragged her to his chest. “Shhhh,” he shushed softly when she tried to protest. “Just let me hug you for a bit.”

Holding her closer, he brushed a palm soothingly up and down her spine and cupped the back of her neck with the other to stop her from pulling away.

Enyu stilled, then all but melted into his embrace. Arms wrapped around his waist and cautious of his injuries, she clung to him as though he were her lifeline. What would she do if she ever lost him?

As if reading her mind, he bent and hid his face in the juncture of her neck, squeezing her a bit tighter- trying to give her whatever comfort he could. They stayed like that for a while, swaying back and forth until she felt a little arm wrap around her waist.

Breaking apart, they both looked down to see that Tuk had come in and joined their hug. She blinked up at them, smiling wildly. “Group hug!”

The tension had broken. Enyu and Neteyam laughed and hugged her back- him patting her hair fondly and pinching the little one’s cheek. Stepping out of the embrace and feeling much lighter than before, she turned, picked up the meal she had prepared and pushed it into Neteyam’s hands.

“Sit. Eat.”

He raised a brow at her tone then glanced at Tuk who was already seated on the ground around the family table- watching them in interest.

“Will you sit and eat, please?” Enyu said in a friendlier tone, reigning in her huff.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Enyu turned away again and began making another plate for Tuk this time. “Why are your brothers so stubborn, Tuktirey?”

Tuk giggled from her seat on the ground and shrugged. “Mommy says they got it from daddy, right, ‘Teyam?”

“Sure right, baby sis. I’m a Sully through and through. What else would you expect, Flower?” he teased over a mouthful of food.

They ate together, diligently listening to the six year old excitedly tell them how she’d lost her first tooth that morning. She also said a fairy would be visiting her while she slept, to take the tooth.

‘Ah yes, the fairy that stole teeth’, thought Enyu. She’d grown up hearing about all sorts of human customs from Jake. Some ranging from odd, to bizarre to just flat out absurd.

Her favourite story in particular was about the old, fat man who dressed in red and would visit children in the night to leave them presents.

When she’d first heard the strange tale, it was meant to be a teaching moment for the boys. Lo’ak and Neteyam had always been mischievous little Na’vi, and Jake at the time was trying to enlighten them about being “naughty or nice”. There was also something about koal and kookies and was it elks? Elfs? Enyu couldn’t remember.

One by one the rest of the Sullys returned to their homely nook. Lo’ak was still sour but at least Jake's mood seemed to have lightened somewhat. He made sure that his sons were truly okay, peeking at Neteyam’s wound and asking him how he was feeling.

The chief made jokes with his children, commenting on their stubbornness, which they teased him back for. He cuddled little Tuk, fondly smiled at his wife and told Enyu all about the man from the North Pole when she’d asked him to tell her the story again.

Enyu loved nights like these. It felt as if she were truly part of the Sully family. She felt Neteyam squeeze her ankle affectionately. He motioned towards her forgotten, half eaten plate and without a fuss, she smiled happily and finished her meal while enjoying their company.

Well that's it for the first part folks! This is a little idea I've had for a while now and just had to write it. I promise there will be more Neteyam & Enyu moments in the next part. I've got a few chapters written already, just doing the editing. I'm sorry if there were any errors.

Please let me know if you like it!

Take care for now.

#avatar fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam imagine #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x oc #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader

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