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sunnysidevans · 9 months

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One Summer In San Diego

Summary: After being left at the altar by who you thought was the love of your life, your father talks you into coming back home with him to San Diego. All it takes is one summer to change the face of your future.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Kazansky!Reader

warnings: 18+, swearing & some violence but mostly fluff nation.

authors note: I obviously can never write something short and sweet so please enjoy this novel of a fic.

The chapel was quiet. The once full pews just a few hours ago are now empty. You sniffle, surrounded by white, the bouquet of flowers sat in your hands. You really couldn't believe this had happened, you had your suspisions but never thought you'd be left at the altar on your wedding day. The doors open as you look up, mascara running down your cheeks.

There stood your father, a sad smile on his face as he took off his cap, making his way down the aisle. “I know baby” you sob, looking up at him as the tears flow freely. “What am I gonna do dad?” you whisper as he shakes his head, crouching down in front of you. He reaches forward, cupping your cheek and wiping the smudged mascara.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” he whispers with a sad smile.

Something about California was different. The sun was hotter and the people were in abundance. You sigh, standing on the sidewalk looking up at the house. How embarrassing was it having to fly back home as an adult and move in with your parents?

Rolling your suitcase up the walkway, the front door flies open. “You get your butt in here!” your mom yells from the top of the steps. “Honey!” she yells back to your dad as you pull the suitcase up the steps with a shy smile. Your father makes his way down the steps, smiling wide. “My little girl” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms as you sigh, falling into his chest.

He wraps you in his arms, watching as your mom shuts the door behind you. “Hi Admiral” you mumble into his chest, snuggling deeper into his cardigan. “Hi baby” he kissed the top of your head as you tried so hard to hold back your tears. “You are gonna find someone so much better than him” he mumbles against your hairline as you sigh.

“Thanks dad” you pull away with a smile as he nods, cupping your cheeks. “You are gonna thrive here I promise” he holds his pinky to you, wrapping your own around his, “thanks dad”.

The childhood bedroom hadn’t changed from when you first moved to San Diego at 17. You stand in the doorway, looking at the posters that littered the walls. Pulling the suitcase in and kicking the door closed after you, falling into the bed with a heavy sigh.

“(Y/N)!” you groan into the pillow as your mom’s voice travels up the stairs. “We are having company over, come say hi!” you lift a hand and give a thumbs up even though you knew she couldn’t see you.

The opening of the front door and the muffled voices flow up the steps. Climbing out of bed,the smell of your fathers famous ribs seem to meet you at the end of the steps, you can't help but smile.

You take a deep breath and make your way to the kitchen. Maverick looks up from his drink with a grin, “(y/n)?”. You smile at your uncle with a sad smile, “hi uncle mav” he stands from his bar stool and walks around the counter, wrapping you in a hug.

“Good to see you kid” he mumbles, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“Who’s this?” A female voice asks, making her way in with your mother. “Oh, Penny, this is (y/n)” Maverick moves to the side, smiling at Penny who smiles at you. “My oldest daughter” your dad speaks up from the patio doors. “Hi Penny, nice to meet you” the two of you shake hands as she smiles.

Sitting on the back patio of your parents home, the thoughts are running wildly in your head. “Hey” you look over, Maverick stands beside you. “Hi uncle mav” you whisper, pulling your knees back to your chest. “What’s goin on?” he asks, sitting on the edge of your chair, arm around your shoulders. “Talk to Uncle Mav” you laugh, leaning into his side as you sigh.

“I’m surprised dad didn’t tell you” looking up at him, his face couldn’t hide his lie, “nope”. The two of you chuckle as you shrug, “Luke cheated on me, so much for a wedding as he left me there” you whisper, the engagement ring still sitting on your left hand.

“Sweetheart, if you want the truth” he says, sitting the beer bottle on his knee as he looks down at you. “Luke did not deserve your kindness and didn’t deserve the title of your husband” you chuckle softly, “your father and I both felt that way from the moment we met him” you nod. “I know, it just hurts a bit”. He nods, motioning to your hand, “I say you pawn that or even yet, I’ll take you to the beach and throw it in the ocean” you laugh, nodding.

“You think?” he nods, kissing the top of your head. “I think it’s a good idea, let me know” he smiles, standing and making his way to the doors.

“Don’t think I missed the band on your left hand either Mav” he grins, “Penny has put up with me a long time kid, you’ll find your person”.

Friday nights in Fightertown were big. Everyone made their way to the bars surrounding the base, including yourself. Penny invited you to the hard deck to get a feel for it as she then offered you the bartending job on the weekends until you found your feet.

The jukebox was soft as it flowed through the bar, it was still early in the evening. Pushing through the door, you hold the purse strap closer to your shoulder and make your way through the grabby hands and prying eyes. “You made it!” Penny yells with a smile, you nod, walking to the bar with a shy smile. “I did!” she grins, motioning you back as she takes your purse and places it under the bar.

“Penny!” you turn at the sound of the voice, a smile breaking out on your face as Bradley Bradshaw stands with a confused look on his face.

“Bradley Bradshaw?” you whisper, hand on your hip as his brows furrow. He tilts his head as the smile of realization makes its way to his face, “(y/n) Kazansky?”. You move around the bar, hugging him tightly. He laughs, hugging your body to his chest. “Last I knew you lived in Nashville?” he questions as you shake your head, “uh” you shove your hands into the back pocket of the jean shorts with a shrug. “I did'' you trail off as he raises his brow, "My fiance left me at the alter so dad packed me up and brought me home" he gasps with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry to hear that Kaz '' you smile with a shrug, “As mav has told me, my person is out there” he nods, giving you a squeeze as his eyes fall to the pool tables. “My team is here, join us if you’d like! If I can steal her?” he questions, looking at the woman who was practically his step-mom.

“Go ahead” she grins, setting two beers in front of the two of you. You take the beers by their neck, following behind Rooster. “Rooster!” Phoenix is the first to acknowledge his presence, a smile on her lips. You follow behind with a shy smile, “hey guys!” He greets them, taking his beer.

“This is (y/n), an old friend” he introduces you to the squad. With a wave, you shake the hands of everyone.

“Oh, Married?” Phoenix questions, the bar was now brought to life, it had been hours of conversations with people you now can call friends. She notices the band on your left hand. “Oh uh” you look down at the engagement ring, “I was supposed to be..” you chuckle, looking up at her as you sip from the beer bottle, “I was actually supposed to be on my honeymoon right now, not back home with my parents”.

Her eyes widen, you stop her as her lips part, “do not be sorry, I should’ve expected it with the ring” you slip it off your finger slowly. She nods, “I am sorry, you seem great!” she encourages as you smirk, noticing the end of her drink. “Want another?” you ask as she nods eagerly “If you are buying” she smirks as you laugh, standing from the chair with a shake of your head.

“Obviously!” moving through the crowded bar, you make your way to the edge with a smile to penny. She smiles, giving you a one minute with her finger as you shrug. “What’s a beautiful thing like you doin up here by herself?” you cringe at the voice, looking over at the man who leans beside you. He was tall, dark hair with warm eyes.

“I’m not alone don’t worry” you mumble, smiling again at Penny.

She watches closely, “can I at least buy you a drink?” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “C’mon” he moves closer brushing his fingertips along your bare shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart” you jump at the warm arm making its way around your waist and the southern accent attached. Looking up at the man to the opposite side of you, he smiles down at you with his green eyes. “Hey babe” you grin, leaning into his body slightly, looking at the man beside you.

“This guy bothering you?” he asks, you chuckle as the man now shrinks in on himself, looking the two of you up and down. “No” he mumbles, walking away from the both of you. You turn to face the blonde, looking at him ready to tear into him.

He smiles, holding his hands up in surrender. “I come in peace, Trace sent me” you look over his shoulder, Phoenix waves. “Are you in the squad?” he nods, holding his hand out with a smirk, “hangman, at your service madam or you can call me Jake” he brings your connected hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Thank you for saving me.. Hangman” you smile at the grin that breaks out on his lips. “Of course, I love saving a damsel in distress"

The Hard Deck was always peaceful in the hours leading up to opening. You pick up the case of beer to set onto the shelves. “So” You look over at Penny's voice with a raised brow, smiling. “I noticed you got rescued last night” you chuckle, turning to face her. “I did by Jake?” you question as she smirks. “Hangman” she nods, following you out the swinging doors to the bar.

“I saw the smile on your face” she comments as you giggle, looking at her. “I was grateful that he helped me out” she nods, eyes falling out the window. “I know Hangman, he is a true southern gentleman” you nod, chuckling as the bar door opens. “Pen!” Rooster’s voice can be heard from the bar deck as his face is peaking around the door.

“Hey Kaz” you smile, looking over at him, waving. “Yes, Rooster?” Penny asks, pushing off the bar to walk towards him, “can we have some beers out here? We would come in but we’re covered in sand” he smiles sheepishly as she has her hands on her hips.

She chuckles, ‘yes darlin” the grin breaks out on his face as he turns and shuts the door. “Would you like to take some beers out to them?” she asks as you smile, nodding.

You pull out seven beers and pop the tops off all of them, carrying them by the necks as you pass a smirking penny. Pushing the door open, you stop short at the group of Aviators sitting on the back deck of the hard deck, panting and covered in sweat. You think you’d be used to it growing up around the Navy but they take you all by surprise.

“Kaz” Rooster’s voice pulls you from the daze you were in, smiling wide at the group. “Sorry” you chuckle, walking to them and setting the beers down at the table. “Hey gorgeous” Phoenix pipes up from her seat, reaching out to give you a squeeze. “Hi” you chuckle, giving her a side hug.

“What did I miss?” you turn at the voice, the words on the tip of your tongue are gone.

Jake stands at the edge of the table, shorts low on his hips and aviators perched on his nose. “Hey” he nods to you with a grin, you smile back at him slightly.

You hadn’t felt the flutter in the pit of your stomach in years, a feeling you didn’t expect.

“If you guys uh- uh need anything let me know, i’m inside” you quickly move from Phoenix’s side and make your way inside. Penny is standing at the bar with a smirk on her face, she can see the flush of your cheeks from where she stands. “Penny!” you scold moving over to her at the bar, she holds her hands up in defense. “I know a crush when I see one” she whispers, as you look up at her through your lashes.

“He’s very handsome that’s all” you grin, turning around to walk back towards the coolers. “Whatever you say young lady!” she yells back, smirking as she looks out the window, Jake’s eyes following your movements behind his aviators.

“Tread lightly” Rooster says beside him, Jake turns to him with a raised brow. “Why’s that?” he asks as Rooster grins, “let's just say… hurt her, your military career is over” Jake nods slowly, looking back into the bar as you stand beside Penny.

The back door opens again and you turn to face a smiling Jake. Taking the glasses off his face his eyes land on your own. “Hi” you smile, looking at him as he makes his way in front of you. “Hi again” he grins, leaning on the bar with his aviators in hand. “Can I get you another beer?” he moves closer then and that's when you get the fresh smell of beer and you couldn’t pick up what his cologne smells like but it was almost intoxicating.

“Actually,” he grins “I was thinking maybe a date” you raise a brow, setting the rag down on the counter with a grin matching his own. “A date huh?” he nods, “if you want to, that is” he adds with a raised brow. “I think” you pull the quarter out of your back pocket with a grin. “That's a deal but on one condition” he eyes the quarter and nods slowly watching the smile grow on your lips again.

“Heads or tails?” you ask and he chuckles, watching the look of seriousness on your face. “I mean it, heads or tails” he thinks slowly and nods, “tails”.

You flip the quarter off your pointer finger and grin as it lands on the back of your hand. “Heads' ' you show him as he nods slowly, “means I get to pick our date” you smirk grabbing a napkin from beside you and scribbling on it delicately to not rip it.

“Here” you hand it to him as he smiles at the small heart attached to the 10 digits. “Text me yeah?” you grab the rag and make your way into the back office with penny. Stopping in the doorway of her office, she grins and looks up from her paper. “What?” she asks as you are standing there wide eyed, “am I crazy or did I just agree to a date?” she laughs, setting her pen down.

“With Hangman?” you nod as she grins. “Oh I can’t wait to tell Pete” she sits back in the chair with a grin.

The closing shift was never bad at the hard deck, usually quiet with the soft stroll of the jukebox. You locked the door behind you, not alarmed to see the truck still parked, assuming someone took a cab home after having one too many.

Until the engine roars to life and you can hear the gravel under someone's boots. “Woah woah” The southern drawl is almost comforting as you face Jake at the bottom of the steps. “You scared the shit out of me” you whisper-yell as he grins. “I’m sorry beautiful, I just thought maybe you’d need a ride home” you smile, adjusting the bag on your shoulder as you look him up and down.

He stood in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that practically was stretched to its limits over his arms, “I uh, I do actually” you whisper, looking at him through your lashes. “But, I was actually thinking” you mess with the jacket in your arms as you walk down the steps to meet him at the end. “Wanna take a walk with me on the beach?” you raise a brow as he grins, holding his arm out to you, “lead the way”.

Linking your arm around his, you smile and slide the sandals off your feet and walk through the trail leading to the beach beside the Hard Deck.

The silence was comforting with Jake, he held you close as your arm stayed linked with his own, his other arm now carrying the sweatshirt you had brought with you. “What brought you to San Diego?” he looks down at you and immediately notices the shift in your shoulders. “It’s a long story” you admit, looking over to see his green eyes. “I have time” he grins as you stop in the sand, looking up at him, “then we may want to sit down”.

He sits beside you, leaning back on his hands as you sit tucked into his side, “I was supposed to get married two weeks ago”. Jake’s shoulder tense as he looks from the ocean over to you. “Luke, my ex-fiance, '' he nods in understanding, watching the way the moon lit up your features. “He cheated on me with a woman in his squad, left me at the altar. My dad found me and offered me to come home, so I packed up my life and moved back home with him” Jake grunts with a shake of his head.

“I can’t believe he did that, can I ask, is he Navy?” he asks as you shake your head with a laugh. “Weirdly enough, he’s Air Force” Jake scoffs with a smirk, “I should’ve known, those are the ones you gotta watch out for '' you giggle, head falling to his shoulder.

“I should’ve listened to my dad and Mav, they told me and I just thought” you trail off, looking out at the water, “thought maybe they were wrong but they weren't and that hurt more” he nods, resting his head on top of your own. “I understand. I can’t say I’m not happy this happened, then you would’ve never met me” he smirks with a confident smile as you laugh, nodding. “That is totally true” you smile, thinking back on it.

Just in the week you’ve been in Fightertown, you have met old friends and made new ones so maybe Luke’s mistake was your gain.

“This was a perfect first date” you say, looking over at Jake in the driver's seat. He smirks, “does this mean I get to pick the next?” he asks as you nod slowly. “I think so” you lean over, kissing his cheek and climbing out of the Chevy.

“Thank you for the ride” you say, leaning against the door frame as he grins, “anything for a pretty lady, that's what us Navy men do” he smirks as you giggle and look away from him, under the early hours the blush creeps up your cheeks. “Let me know when you have the time and we’ll” you shrug with a smile, “go on another” he grins as you wave and shut the door behind you.

Jogging up the steps of your parent’s home, turning back as the Chevy sat on the curb. You shut the door behind you and push the curtain aside and watch as Jake’s truck pulls away.

“You are home late” you jump at your fathers voice, turning to face him as his face remains stone. “Dad, I’m an adult” you add, moving to the end of the steps as his face breaks out into a grin, “I know, just like to give you a hard time” he holds an arm out towards you as you make your way up the steps. “Who brought you home?” he asks as you link your arm with his outstretched one, “uh” you hesitate as he smirks. “You can tell me” he adds, looking down at you with a raised brow. “Jake?” you question as he nods, face almost stone.

“Hangman..” you add, looking up at him through your lashes. “Jake Seresin?” he adds as you bite your lip and close your eyes. “I don’t like that you know his whole name, makes me think he is bad news” he shakes his head stopping outside your bedroom door, cupping your cheeks.

“He is an exceptional pilot. I think that’s nice” you nod, reaching up to hug him tightly. “Makes me feel better my dad might like this one” you whisper as he laughs, giving you a squeeze. “Go to bed” he laughs, nudging you to the bedroom. Laying back on your childhood bed,the phone buzzed beside you. You felt like you were in highschool again, smiling at the bright screen.

unknown : I had a nice time tonight, but don’t you worry I am sweeping you off your feet for the next one ;)

You giggle, saving his number quickly to your contacts. Maybe coming home to San Diego wouldn’t be so bad.

Jake knew your second date had to be perfect. He had planned everything down to the minute. He took a deep breath and made his way up the steps of your home, knocking on the front door. Stood in a pair of jeans and a black button up, the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand as the door swings open, his mouth goes dry.

“Lieutenant'' He looked like a deer in the headlights as your father grinned from the front door.

Admiral Kazansky was your father.

Rooster's words finally made sense, “Admiral Kazansky '' he breathed. Iceman was a well respected man in the Naval Academy, Jake even looked up to him when he first enlisted. “Call me Tom '' he grins, motioning him in the house.

Jake nods slowly, walking into the foyer as he looks around the home. He couldn’t believe he missed all the clues of who you were or more of who your father was. “Honey!” Iceman yells up the steps as he turns to Jake. “Now” he crosses his arms over his chest and Jake can feel the fatherly chat coming. “I’m just looking out for my little girl okay?” Jake nods eagerly looking at your father. “I completely understand, sir" Jake is smiling at him, which takes your father by surprise.

“I know what she’s gone through and why she's here in San Diego. I also know how hard it was for her to agree to this date” Iceman nods as Jake continues. “I just want to show her how a real man is supposed to treat a lady, sir” he coughs slightly looking up at him.

You smile at the top of the steps, Jake proved himself so far almost perfectly, prove to dad. Taking a deep breath, you make your way down the steps, signaling both men to end their conversation. Jake makes his way to meet you at the end of the steps, holding a hand out to you. Taking his awaiting hand, you smile at him “hi” he grins, as he holds the flowers out to you.

“These are for you” smiling, you take the bouquet looking over at your parents as your mom now stands beside your father. “I’ll take those, I have a vase, '' she smiles,taking it from your outstretched hand.

You turn to Jake with a furrowed brow as he looks you over, “Jake?” he blinks, smiling. “Sorry, you look.. So beautiful” he whispers as you blush. “Let’s go” you smile, opening the door and leading him outside.

The sun was setting over the ocean, leaving soft pink hues in the sky. Sitting beside Jake on the small blanket as the breeze was slowly picking up. The restaurant he picked for dinner faced the ocean as the sand seemed so inviting.

Jake proved to you that it didn’t take much to make you happy, a simple meal and listening. “What’s goin on up there?” he asks as you look up at him with a raised brow. “You seem awfully quiet” he notes as you smile nodding. “I didn’t expect this. Not in a bad way but dates with Luke were… I paid for dinner and I made the plans” you lean into his shoulder, head falling into that space between his shoulder and jaw.

He scoffs, moving his arm to wrap around you. “I can’t get over this man. The more you tell me the more i hate him” you giggle with a shrug. You wanted to tell him he didn’t compare to him, in the few weeks you’d known Jake he didn’t ever compare to Luke. “Thank you” you look up at him, sitting up. “You’re welcome gorgeous" you blush, looking back out to the ocean as you stand. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore Jake” he nods with an understanding smile.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks as you back up towards the shore line. “Skinny dip” you admit with a grin, pulling the shoulders of your dress down as you soon let it pool into the sand.

Your back is to him, you don’t see him make his way up behind you, a smirk on his lips as he grabs you by the waist running to the water. You squeal, holding onto his arms tightly. Gripping his shoulders, you push his now wet hair out of his face. “Jake?” you whisper, legs wrapping around his waist as his arms link under your thighs. “What’s on your mind?” he asks as you smile, “you are the handsomest man I think I’ve seen in a long time” you admit as his smirk grows. “You are the most gorgeous woman I have seen in forever” he grins, nudging your nose gently.

The sun was now set, cupping his cheek you can’t help the smile that matches his own. “You’re proving to me how a man should treat a lady” you whisper, his eyes widening “you heard that?” he looks away from your face, a slight blush on his cheeks. “Are you blushing?” you gasp as he shakes his head, “no I am not!” he laughs. “Oh my god Jake Seresin is blushing!” you squeal as he pulls you closer to his body, leaning in slowly. “Fine” he whispers against your lips, eyes looking from your lips to your face. “I was, you bring out the best in a man I suppose” you giggle, leaning down to connect your lips.

The sun was peeking through the curtains as you groaned. The bed was comfier and the comforter seemed softer than the one in your childhood bedroom.

The weight of the arm across your waist brought you to the night you spent with him. Jake groans, rolling over onto his back. “For a man who wakes at a moment's notice for the Navy, you can’t for me?” you grin at the smile on his lips, kissing his jaw gently. “For you, anything” his voice was deep and full of southern drawl. You knew at that moment you wanted to hear it forever.

“Sleep okay?” you ask, head resting on his shoulder as he grins, “I did, how did you sleep?” he turns his head, lips resting on your hairline, hand seeking your own. “For the first time in a few months, almost perfectly” he grins against your skin.

The room fell silent in a comforting way as you snuggled closer to his body. “I can’t believe you got me in bed on our second date” you mumble with a smirk as he laughs. “I’m just that smooth gorgeous” he can’t help but to laugh as you giggle.

After your morning with Jake, you knew you were making the right choice. Standing at the shoreline behind the hard deck, you twirl the engagement ring around your finger slowly.

“Hey sweetheart” you jump, looking behind you as Maverick makes his way down the sand, “don't be mad” he says as you smile at him. “Why would I be mad?” he smiles “penny sent me down here with you” he admits as you shake your head. “I actually am glad she did, I-I need your help” he moves beside you. “Uncle Mav, I went out with Jake” you look over at him as he smiles, nodding slowly.

“How’d it go?” he asks, standing beside you as you turn back out to the water, “perfect”. He smiles, nodding slowly “so why do you need my help?” he asks. “Am I making a bad decision?” he bites his lip, “do you want the truth?” he asks as you nod eagerly.

“Complete truth” he nods, “Hangman is similar to your father. He’s cocky and a bit arrogant and I can say this about him, your father because he’s my best friend” he points out as you giggle, nodding. “But he’s also kind and gentle and takes care of the one he loves, when your father met your mother I saw a shift in him and I have seen a shift in Hangman” you smile, moving closer to the other pilot as you take a deep breath.

“Okay” you smile, walking closer to the sand and taking a deep breath. “You got it!” maverick yells as the metal slips from your fingers and makes a small plop in the ocean.

“Luke is your past, I see Hangman as your future” Maverick smiles at the smile on your face.

It had been months since you landed in San Diego.

Jake made it his mission to continue winning you and your father over. Jake always made his presence known at the Hard Deck so you knew he was always watching. “Gorgeous" You smile at the sound of his voice, looking over your shoulder as he stands in his service khakis. “Handsome” you grin, grabbing him two beers, one for him and one for Rooster.

He grins as you set them in front of him, “on me” you grin as he leans over the bar, kissing your forehead gently, “thanks beautiful”.

Turning back to the bar you lost track of the time, a usual occurance with a Friday night in the bar.

In seconds the atmosphere can change in a bar and within a millisecond, it did. The door opened and your eyes locked on his, Luke stood at the door with a few members of his squad.

Jake’s shoulders tense as he looks up from the pool table, he notices the tension in the bar as his eyes then fall to you. “(Y/N)?” Penny questions as you look at her with wide eyes. “Its really bold to be an Air Force pilot and walk into a Navy bar” you mumble as her eyes widen. “You okay?” she asks as you nod slowly, taking a deep breath. “He’s always been kind of an idiot, '' you mumble, turning to the customer in front of you.

“What’s goin on?” Rooster asks, standing beside Jake as he huffs slightly. ``I'm guessing, and this could be a long shot. I’m pretty sure that’s Luke'' Jake puts a hand on his hip as his green eyes follow the pilots. “That’s kinda stupid to come into a Navy bar…” Rooster notes as Jake nods slowly. “Yeah, well it’s really stupid to cheat on your beautiful fiance but yet he did ''.

You don’t notice the brunette at your side, the woman who held a grin on her lips as the squad surrounded her. “Excuse me” she asks and your head snaps to her, her face falls at your face. “(Y/N)..” she breathes as you smile, watching the face of every other pilot around her. “Hi Katie” you smile, “what can I get you?”. Penny tries to hide her laugh as you put on the most bull-shit smile ever.

“Oh uh- Titos and soda please” you nod, turning to grab a glass. The whispers weren’t subtle as the rest of the squad realized who you were by the time Luke made it beside his now girlfriend. “Your tito’s, opening a tab?” you avoid his brown eyes as she nods slowly, handing a card over. “Perfect” you set it beside the register with her name, walking to penny.

“I need some air” you whisper, tossing the towel aside and making your way past Jake and the Dagger Squad, ignoring the voice of both men. “(Y/N)” you could throw up at the sound of his voice. It was almost as deafening as nails on a chalkboard. “What do you want?” you turn to face him, your face almost as stone. “What are you even doing here? Don’t you know this is a Navy bar?!” you seeth, as he holds his hands up in defense.

“I heard great things.. I thought i’d check it out” he looks over your shoulder as Jake makes his way out the door, beer in his hand as he stands behind you. Luke chuckles, “need a guard dog?” you follow his gaze, looking at Jake with a small smile as he watches your face almost shift.

“I don’t need a guard dog no, but it’s good to have someone who cares about my well being, someone to protect me” you mumble, head snapping back to Luke.

“You don’t need protecting from me (Y/n)” he says as you almost seeth at his words. “Oh? I don’t? I don’t need protection from the man who left me at the altar for another woman?” you question as his gaze falls. “I know you slept with Katie almost every single mission you flew, every deployment” you spit.

He raises his eyes as he smirks, “but yet it didn’t take you long to crawl into someone else’s bed” he eyes Jake who stands taller behind you. Moving closer to him, you let out a deep breath. “It didn’t. He fucks me better than you ever could, Katie can have you all to herself” you smirk at the raise of his eyebrows. “I suggest you leave” you chuckle as Luke shrugs, “why? What are you and the sea boy back there gonna do?” before you could think your hand connected with his jaw.

The doors fly open then, Rooster is moving in front of you as the rest of Luke’s squad makes their way outside. “I suggest you leave, now” your voice is almost deadly, dripping with venom. He looks at you, holding his cheek as you grin. “I always knew you were twisted. '' Laughing, you move from behind Rooster. “Don’t you know you never fuck with an admirals daughter! Cold as ice, Bitch” you spit as Katie is pulling him back.

“Go running back to your bitch” you walk back to Jake, who can’t help but grin behind his beer bottle, waving to the rest of the squad as they are helping Luke down the steps.

“That was stupid” Jake looks up at you in sympathy as he applies the bag of ice onto your knuckles. “It gave me so much closure though” you smile, looking up at him as he stands between your thighs. “It was hot” he admits with a grin as you giggle. “I hope I didn’t upset you” he furrows his brows as he pulls the ice off your knuckles to look over the busted skin.

“Upset me?” you shrug, looking down now at your knuckles. “Saying I didn’t need you to protect me..” he shakes his head, “you’ve had to protect yourself for a while, I understand'' he admits as you nod, “You have your very own Doberman who will always protect you. If or when you need him” he winks as you laugh.

“I hope you know, I will always protect you. I vowed that the moment I met you” he admits, kissing your hairline gently as your eyes fall closed. “I will always protect you my love” you whisper back, looking up at him with a grin. “My love huh?” he smirks as you laugh,slapping his chest gently. “I like that one” he admits, leaning down closer to your lips with a smirk.

“Get over here” you smirk, pulling him into you by the collar, kissing him as if he’d slip away. “Let’s get you home my big bad lioness” he smirks, picking you up and over his shoulder.

Three years later.

The church was perfect. You stood outside on the sidewalk as you heard the motorcycle pull up. Looking over your shoulder, mav is dismounting the bike and pulling the helmet off his head. “There’s my girl” he grins as the tears well up in your eyes. “Uncle Mav” your lip quivers as he’s wrapping you in his arms. “Dad’s on his way, needs a moment to compose himself” Mav says with a laugh as you smile. “I know, he’s a big ol softy” he grins as the escalade pulls up to the curb and your father steps out.

“Are you waiting out here for me?” you smile, holding a hand out to him with a nod. “I need my dad to walk me down the aisle don’t i?” you ask as he grins, taking your hand. Walking inside, the two of you stand by the two double doors.

“It’s different this time,” you whisper, looking up at him. “It is, you are marrying a good man” he smiles, kissing your head as the doors open and music begins. “And i can’t be more proud of you” he smiles, facing the end of the aisle where Jake stands.

Jake’s lip is quivering, looking down to avoid more tears but his eyes fall back to you just as quickly. “Dude” Coyote whispers to him as he looks over at his best man, “You can cry '' Coyote adds as Jake nods, a sob falling from his lips. By the time he looks back down the aisle you are almost in front of him.

He looks over at your mom, who sits proudly waiting for the two of you. “Hangman” Iceman grins as he is handing you over to the pilot, who smiles at him in a nod of thanks. The ceremony was beautiful, the soft hues of orange sat along the venu.

Everyone made their way to the reception as you sat down on the end of the aisle. This time, Jake stands at the end at the double doors with a smile on his face. “What is my beautiful bride doing in here?” he asks, hands in his pockets as you smile, looking up at him.

“Thinking” you admit, standing to meet him halfway down the aisle. He smiles, making his way down to you and wrapping you in his arms. “Thinkin about what?” he asks as you smile, running your hands along his arms. “How I saw myself here three years ago except, it wasn’t this beautiful, wasn’t this perfect” you smile up at him as he grins. “Three years ago you were expected to marry a boy,” he says as you giggle.

“Yet, I married a man who showed me the right way to love a woman” he grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead as your eyes fall closed. “I am just a man who wanted to give the beautiful woman the world” you smile as his forehead falls against your own.

The day your father picked you up from the altar floor played in your mind. His kind words and his encouragement to come back home with him to San Diego would've never had you end here, in the arms of someone who made you his world.

You couldn’t be more thankful for that summer in San Diego.

Hi there! ! If you enjoyed this fic, you can find all my other work in The Library.

#glen powell #jake seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #top gun hangman #hangman seresin #hangman

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efingcod · 3 months

Text

Cold Mornings

Have a, well, it's more than a drabble, but it's still short. Have a whatever this is.

John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

You wrap a blanket around your shoulders as you step out of the bedroom. It’s a freezing cold morning. All you can think about is coffee until you see him, John, sitting there on a bar stool at the table, shirtless, reading something on his phone.

You’d say something, but he’d probably give you a line about Scotsmen being made of tougher stuff. So you walk to the kitchen, your blanket dragging behind you on the floor. You could have sworn you heard a low, amused chuckle coming from John’s direction, but he doesn’t follow it with his usual teasing, so you ignore it.

As you take a few sips of your coffee, you study John. As you watch him, he shifts in his chair, subtle movements that manage to completely change the topography of his back. You feel the urge to be close to him.

You shuffle over to where he’s sitting and reach around him to set your mug down on the table before pressing your chest into his back.

Even without a shirt, he’s still warm. How is that possible?

You make a soft sound and bury the tip of your freezing-cold nose into his shoulder.

“Cold there?” He asks, a tone of humor in his voice.

“Maybe,” You say as you drape your arms and the blanket over his shoulders.

“Should get you back to bed then.”

He rises then, and you automatically let go and take a step back. In a swift movement, he dips down, bracing one arm on your back and the other at the bend in your knees. You’re lifted into the air like you’re nothing as he gathers you and the blanket into his arms and takes you back to the bedroom.

#john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #holy shit i wrote something for MW?#it feels weird to write a character who has a cell phone #😂😂😂#anyway

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guilty-pleasures21 · 4 months

Text

Injured

It's finally here!!!

Thanks to @deans-spinster-witch for motivating me to write it! ❤ (I was honestly ready to give up, guys.)

Hope it meets expectations!

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex including blowjob (f receiving), fingering (f receiving) and penetration (p in v).

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Stupid! How could he be so stupid?! Of course, of course he'd gone and ruined the one good thing in his life. He sighed as he stood under the shower, letting the warm water spill down his skin. And now they'd never be the same again, no matter how casually she'd tried to brush it off. He turned the tap off and reached for the shampoo, meaning to get some of the sweat out of his hair, but a sharp sting shot through his shoulder, reminding him of his injury. Great - one more problem to add to his plate.

“Jason?” X knocked on the door cautiously. “Are you okay? You've been in there a while.” Her voice was soft, hesitant, and all he could f*cking think about was the way she'd moaned his name.

“I'm fine! I'm fine,” Jason yelled quickly, shooting himself with a spray of cold water to bring himself back to reality. He shut the tap off again, then bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “Can you … I can't reach my hair. It … My shoulder …”

“I can help,” X reassured him quickly, her voice nonchalant. “Just put your shorts on. I can wash it in the sink.” Of course, of course she’d help him wash his hair if he needed it. Argh! Stupid! He was so f*cking stupid! He did as she said, then unlocked the door before standing awkwardly by the sink. She smiled up at him, lips stretched a little too wide, and carried a plastic stool into the bathroom. She set it down in front of the sink, then gestured for him to sit down, manoeuvring around him carefully to get the bottle of shampoo. He clenched his muscles, not even daring to take a breath as she massaged the foamy liquid into his hair, her fingers much too relaxing against his scalp. Finally, once she’d gotten all the soap out, she sighed and stepped back.

“Jason, do you like me?” she asked him point blank, unable to take it any longer. Then she shifted in position, suddenly nervous. “It’s fine if you don’t! But just tell me so I can at least go to sleep tonight.” How could she be so casual about it when he was f*cking losing his mind right then?!

“I-I … Um …” he stammered, automatically looking away from her as she tried to think of a way to avoid the subject.

“And don’t try to avoid the subject,” she warmed him, reading his thoughts perfectly. “You can run away from everyone else if you want, but you’re not going to run away from me. I’ll tie you up if I have to!” God, did she have to add that last bit? Glaring down at him with her pretty eyes, full lips pushed out in a frown. Would she really tie him up? Strap him to the chair and then straddle him, her lips and hands running all over him while he struggled against his binds, completely help- Holy shit, she was driving him crazy! But he knew she meant it: she wouldn’t let him get out of this - not this time.

“I like you!” he blurted out quickly, not wanting to give himself too much time to think about it. “Too much, I think! But I don’t … I don’t want to hurt you! I can’t lose you, X. And … I know - I know - that I’m going to do something stupid that’s going to cost us … That’s going to cost me you.” He whispered the last few words, his heart thrumming rapidly in his chest at the thought that it might already be too late - he might have already lost her.

He was trying - he was trying so hard to overcome his fears. For her. Always for her. She sighed and stepped back towards him again. “You’re not going to hurt me, Jace. We’re … We’ve already had a million fights. And we’re fine! We always come back to each other.”

She gave him a soft smile and he found the tension easing from his shoulders as he considered her words. She was right: they’d already had a million stupid fights, but she’d never let him walk away. She’d always call him out when she noticed him getting ready to flee and sat him down so they could talk through it together. Like adults, she’d always tease him. Because she wanted him in her life. Always.

“We’re basically like an old married couple, Jace,” she joked, relieved that he seemed to have calmed down. She continued. “Just without the … the … you know … the physicalities.” Jason’s lips quirked in amusement.

“The what?” he asked, knowing exactly what she was talking about. She bit her lip, lowering her gaze sheepishly. He liked this new look on her: shy, flustered, and all because of him.

“The … The physical aspect, you know?” She scratched at her wrist, too embarrassed to say it out loud. His lips widened into a smirk and he stood up.

“I don’t know,” he lied, backing her into the wall. “What do you mean ‘the physical aspect’?” He placed a hand behind her, trapping her beneath his broad chest, his skin glistening from the remaining droplets of water trickling along his muscles. She gulped, her mouth watering at the sudden thought of licking it off of him, sucking on him teasingly as she pressed herself against him. Her eyes widened with embarrassment and she quickly dropped her gaze again.

“You know,” she insisted, her voice soft, nervous. God, she was cute when she was embarrassed, squirming so deliciously beneath him. He bent over her, strands of his damp hair tickling her forehead as he towered over her waiting. She whispered quietly, “s-sex.”

“What was that?” Jason grinned, moving one hand down now to settle on the wall by her waist. She was so small, so perfectly small, and he couldn’t wait to just pick her up and throw her onto her bed so he could have his way with her. He brought his face closer to hers. “I didn’t hear you.”

“T-The sex!” she squeaked out, her cheeks heating up at the word. He was so mean, teasing her and touching her, murmuring such naughty things in her ear while he played with her. And now here he was, messing with her again, that wicked grin stretched across his face as he mocked her. He chuckled, low and deep, and took hold of her chin, turning her face up to his.

“You know, you weren’t this shy earlier, when you were screaming my name.” She gasped at the statement, her mouth opening and closing as she stuttered for a response. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, his mouth so close to hers now that she could feel his breath blowing against her. She swallowed hard and did her best to wrench her chin out of his grasp, but he held firm, forcing her to continue looking up at him. She frowned.

“Because you were distracting me!” she accused him suddenly, the frustration building up inside of her. “With your .. your fingers all … inside of me and stuff.” He groaned and released her chin to curl his arm around her waist, arching her back and pulling her hips flush against his. He lowered his head to her shoulder, brushing his lips along the side of her neck as he murmured against her skin.

“X …” he whined, his voice soft and pleading. He closed his lips around her skin, pulling it into his mouth and sucking on her lightly. “You liked that? Did you like that, sweetheart? Having my fingers all up inside of you?” He grinned and she shivered at the words, her body jerking violently as he grazed her skin with his teeth.

"You want me to do it again?” he asked her, nipping on her earlobe before pulling back to look at her, his lips brushing gently against hers. “Hmm? You want me … You want me to …” He pressed his lips to hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth as he kissed her, swirling it around so he could drink in the sweet taste of her. F*ck, how much time had he wasted on not kissing her? On thinking about it, but doing nothing to make the fantasy become a reality. He let out a pleased moan, then sucked on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth and causing her to let out another surprised squeak. He pulled his head back slowly, dragging her tongue out of his mouth, then returned his lips to her neck, wrapping his arms around her to hold her in place as he licked and sucked on her skin.

“J-Jason,” she whimpered, clutching onto his shoulders as her knees went weak. He flicked his tongue at her earlobe, then tugged on it with his teeth again before moving his mouth to her throat.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he mumbled against her, his deep voice sending delicious rumbles rolling through her skin. “Tell me … Tell me what you want from me, X. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just … Just … Please?” He closed his teeth around her collarbone, biting on it before licking his way back up her throat to her mouth. He kissed her again, hungrily this time, his lips moving against hers feverishly as he dug his fingers into her sides.

“Okay,” X giggled, trying to speak through his unrelenting kisses. He let out a satisfied moan at her response, then lifted her up like she weighed nothing at all and carried her out of the bathroom. She curled her legs around him, laughing at how completely dazed he’d become, his mind entirely focused on her, her body, her pleasure, then he tossed her onto her bed. She smiled up at him, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, and he sighed.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart,” he whined, climbing on top of her and trapping her beneath him. He brushed his nose along her neck and groaned, the sounds sending vibrations rumbling along her bones. She shivered and he growled, closing his teeth around the crook of her neck. He lowered himself on top of her and snuck his hand under her shirt, trailing kisses down her throat.

“Mmm, let’s …” He stopped to drag his tongue along her collarbone, then he pressed his lips to the same spot, humming against her so the sound travelled down to her chest this time. Her nipples tingled with excitement as he lifted her shirt off, his rough hands brushing over her soft breasts as he pulled it off of her. He moaned as he squeezed her plump flesh in his hand, wasting no time in pressing his lips all over her skin, covering her in soft kisses. “X …”

“Yes, Jason?” she giggled. Then she gasped as he circled her nipple with his tongue, her back arching off the bed in delight. He closed his lips around her stiff peak and sucked on it lightly, lowering his head together with her body as she sank back onto the mattress. “Jason …”

God, it drove him crazy whenever she said his name like that. Maybe he'd tie her up and do whatever he wanted to her, teasing her mercilessly until the only thing she could remember was his name. He slipped his arm under her, pulling her up slightly and giving her nipple a last hard suck. Then he let her go and closed his fingers around her other breast again, shifting his legs to nudge hers further apart. He sat up and pulled her bottoms off frantically, then looped his arms beneath her thighs and tugged her towards him, resting her legs on his shoulders. F*ck, she was so beautiful, all spread out for him like this, just waiting for him to devour her. He lowered himself to the bed and pushed his mouth into her folds, groaning loudly at his first taste of her. “Shit, X, you taste … so f*cking good.”

Jason swirled his tongue around her folds, licking her and drinking up the taste of her. His face was buried so deeply in her that she could feel the tip of his nose nudge her clit every time he nodded his head to drag his tongue along her length. And holy shit, his voice! His deep, rumbling groans that sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through her stomach every time the vibrations tickled her p*ssy. Shit, he was good. She whimpered and gasped, her legs twitching as the pleasure overwhelmed her, her stomach growing tighter by the second. Then finally, she broke, her body shaking and shivering against his mouth as she came for him. He gripped onto her thighs and held her firmly against him, intent on licking up every last drop of her sweet and sticky c*m. She fell back against the bed, breathing a sigh of relief when it was over. But he didn't stop, his tongue moving down to poke and prod at her entrance this time.

“Jason,” she whined, twisting her fingers into his hair to try to get him to stop. He hummed in question, but refused to stop, his mouth staying locked against her p*ssy as he continued to eat her out. “Jason!”

She sat up and pushed his head again, adding a little more force this time, and finally, he stopped, moving to sit up as well. He licked his lips, cleaning up some of the glistening liquid dripping off of his jaw, and she wondered how he could possibly find her so delicious. He smirked at the intrigued look on her face and leaned closer to her, latching onto her bottom lip when she let out a gasp at the feeling of his finger trailing down her p*ssy. He sucked on her lip and snuck his finger into her, sliding in all the way up to his knuckle before he let her go, flashing her a mischievous smile when her jaw dropped at the sensation.

“J-Jason!” It was too soon, too immediate, but she still couldn't stop her body from twisting around desperately, her sensitive nerves begging him for more.

“Shh, baby, I know,” Jason soothed her, eyes dark with lust as he watched her body writhe around helplessly, so overcome with her desire for him. She fell back against the pillows and he leaned over her, his muscular torso engulfing her as he lowered his lips to her neck. He pressed a few lingering kisses along her skin, then gave her earlobe a light suckle before murmuring against it. “But you're gonna have to fit my fingers first if you want to feel my d*ck inside this tight little p*ssy of yours.”

She moaned as he slipped another finger inside of her, her nipples tingling at the thought of having his d*ck inside of her. Of course she'd thought about it, of course she'd wondered what he would feel like, her eyes lingering a little too long on the sharp lines of his muscles beneath the tight fabric of his little vigilante outfit. He curled his fingers, pressing them against her walls, and she whimpered as he bit down on her shoulder, his teeth pricking her skin while his fingers continued playing with her p*ssy. Oh God, he was … he was … She kicked her legs as her stomach began to tighten again, her hips rising off the bed in anticipation. Then she came again, her sticky juices dripping down his fingers as she shook against his hand. He pulled his fingers out of her and brought them to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers as he sucked the c*m off of them. “Mmm, you taste … so good, sweetheart.”

He placed his arms down on either side of her and pressed his lips to hers, his tongue tangling with hers as he spread the taste of her across to her mouth. “Mmm, you're so … you're so …”

He moved one hand to squeeze her breast, groaning into her mouth as his fingers closed around her soft flesh. Then he wrenched his lips from hers and lowered them to her other breast, kissing and suckling on her nipple appreciatively.

“You're so beautiful, sweetheart,” he breathed, rubbing his deliciously large bulk up against her. “So … So f*cking hot … when you come for me … like that.”

“Mmph, Jason,” she whined, wincing at the friction of his clothed c*ck rubbing against her already overestimated clit. “J-Jason … Stop. It hurts!”

He released her nipple with a pop and sat up, finally providing her with some relief. He looked down at her, his features twisting with concern as he pulled her up onto his lap.

“Aww,” he teased her, sliding his hands up her back and holding her close to him. “I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry. C'mere.” He repeated the word as he flipped them over, settling her on top of him as he lay back on the mattress. He pulled her up, shifting her higher up his muscled torso, and glided his hands up her back, pushing her down slightly and arching her body so that her breast pooled in his mouth. He moaned with delight and stroked her back gently as he licked and sucked on her breasts, tugging on her with his mouth like he was trying to milk her.

“Ah! J-Jason!” she whispered, gripping onto the headboard of the bed to keep herself upright. God, she could feel herself starting to leak again already! He moved his mouth from one breast to the other, chuckling when he felt her c*m starting to drip down onto his abdomen.

“Mmm,” he moaned, his teeth grazing her flesh as he grinned around her. “You like that? You like it when I suck on you like that, sweetheart? Like this?” He slid his hands up her back, stroking her appreciatively as he continued to suckle on her. He moved his head to follow her movements as she curled her back, the contractions starting up again as she felt herself getting rapidly more aroused. Jason let her nipple go, grinning up at her with delight, then sat up and flipped her down onto the bed so she was lying on her stomach. She pushed herself up to her hands and knees gingerly, dazed by the speed of his movements, then collapsed her torso back down onto the bed when she felt him start tracing her drenched folds with his slick tip.

“What about this, baby?” he asked her teasingly, his tone wicked. “You like this? You like feeling my d*ck on your p*ssy? Mmm. Can you feel how hard I am for you, baby?”

It did feel good, so good, his prec*m-coated tip sliding along all her sensitive nerves. But then he started sliding himself into her, his thick d*ck stretching out her walls as he eased his way into her. She whimpered as he began thrusting himself into her, nice and slow, his tip hitting that one spot that had her moaning with ecstasy. He gripped onto her hips and slid her back and forth on his length, groaning at the way her warm and wet walls welcomed him so nicely. He was going to take his time with her tonight, f*ck, he was going to take his time.

“J-Jason!” she called out to him, her fingers twisting in the bedsheet. “Jason! Alert!”

“Huh? What?” he asked after she’d repeated himself. He just couldn’t help it: she just felt so good, so soft and so tight, and his mind was completely overcome by the pleasure of being so deeply inside of her that he found himself unable to focus on anything else. She let out a sigh and he increased the pace of his movements slightly, his c*ck begging him for relief.

“Jason!” she tried again, her body starting to contract as it squeezed around his d*ck. “Alert. Bat-signal.” He slowed down, the words finally registering in his consciousness. Then he heard it: the persistent whining of her buzzer, signalling to them that a crime was in progress. He reached across to her bedside table and grabbed it, clicking on the button to respond.

“What?!”

“Uh, Jason?” Stephanie’s uncertain voice came through the unit. “Why are you answering X’s alert?” X sat up quickly, her body protesting at the sudden absence of Jason’s d*ck inside of her, but she ignored it, too overcome with the fear of being found out by the rest of the Batfam. She reached forward and grabbed the buzzer from his hands.

“Hey! What’s up?” X inquired a little too quickly.

“Uh, are you guys okay?” Stephanie asked, her tone growing more suspicious by the second. “What’s Jason doing at your place so late?” X gulped, exchanging an alarmed look with Jason as the both of them tried frantically to come up with some sort of excuse.

“Uh, he got injured. But nothing serious! What’s up?” Oh god. Could she tell? Could Steph tell that something had happened between her and Jason? That she was sitting naked on her bed in front of him, his c*ck having been inside of her p*ssy only seconds ago-

“... just around the corner. You think you guys can get it?” Steph asked. X didn’t respond, her gaze distant as she thought about whatever was on her mind right then. Jason flashed her a quizzical look, but she didn’t seem to notice. So he grabbed the buzzer from her.

“Yeah, we’ve got it,” he reassured Steph, the sound of his voice finally pulling X back to reality. F*ck, she was cute, her curly eyelashes blinking in confusion as she gazed up at him. He should have just lied: should have just said that he was too injured to take on anyone else tonight and that X couldn’t go either because he needed her to look after him. But then they’d probably send someone to check on them, interrupting them anyway. He sighed.

“Great! We’ll meet you there.” Jason gave her a noncommittal hum of agreement and hung up tossing the buzzer aside. But they didn’t have to go right away, he reasoned, crawling back on top of X and pushing her back down on the bed. He pressed his lips to her collarbone and began slowly making his way up her throat, his tongue flicking out occasionally to trace circles around her skin. He moaned with satisfaction as he sucked her on jaw, then he reached down to take hold of himself, trying to guide his c*ck back inside of her again.

“Jason,” she whined, her legs twitching slightly as she felt him begin to circle his d*ck around her entrance again. “I don’t … Hmm, stop!” She pushed herself away from him, sliding far enough out of his reach so that she could shut her legs. Then she sat up, her chest heaving with shallow breaths as she met his gaze.

“I don’t think we have the time for that, Jay,” she told him, giving him a smile that had his heart skipping a beat. He reached a hand out to her, the only thought on his mind right then how badly he needed to f*ck her right now.

“No, we have time,” he insisted gently, shuffling closer to her. “Just … Just five minutes. C’mere, baby.” But five minutes wouldn’t be enough, he knew - because then it’d be ten minutes, and then an hour, and eventually, the entire night would have passed them by as they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms. She seemed to know it too because she crawled backwards, barely managing to evade his grasp before she hopped off the bed entirely. Jason fell onto the mattress as he lost his balance, then he pushed himself back up to glare at her.

“X!” She grinned at the warning tone in his voice and scurried over to her closet.

“We have a mission, Jay!” She pulled out her vigilante costume and dashed over to her bathroom. Jason flopped over on the bed, groaning loudly. But then he started getting up and going to get his own suit, grumbling exaggeratedly to let her know that he wasn’t happy about it. He’d kill Freeze. He’d kill him and then drag X back to her apartment so he could bury himself back inside of her and spend the rest of the night f*cking her into oblivion. Jason sighed and went to put on his suit, comforted by the thought.

“Done,” Jason declared, pushing himself back to his feet. Steph and Tim stared at him in a mixture of awe and horror.

“Did you just …” Tim began.

“Tase his brain?” Steph finished, unsure as to whether to be impressed or disgusted. Jason turned to look at them and shrugged.

“I got him, didn’t I?” He and X had arrived right after Tim and Steph and found them still outside the museum, the two of them discussing the game plan with Barbara over the comms. Jason had immediately pushed past them and sprinted into the museum, leaping onto Dr Freeze and smashing his helmet to pieces before shoving a taser in his eye. The villain had slumped over, his body convulsing as he sank to the ground. Jason gestured to Tim and Steph.

“Call Gordon to come pick him up,” he instructed them. Then he turned to X, pointing a finger at her and narrowing his eyes at her beneath his mask. “You … You come with me.”

Jason marched over to her and grabbed her hand, dragging her out the door. She twisted around, struggling against his grip as she glanced over at Tim and Steph. “Bye guys! See you tomorrow!”

X stumbled a few times as Jason dashed down the corridor, struggling to keep up with his desperate pace. He felt a little bad, but he couldn’t help it; his d*ck was just so painfully hard for her, he didn’t think he’d even be able to wait to get back to her apartment. He grabbed her helmet off his bike when he reached it and shoved it into her hands, waiting for her to put it on. She grinned at his impatience, then lifted it to her head slowly, taking her sweet time putting it on. Jason growled and strapped it onto her head, doing his best to remain gentle. He climbed onto his bike when he was done and turned on the ignition, gesturing for her to climb up behind him. She did as he asked and before long, they were zooming back to her place.

“F*ck!” Jason groaned, pushing her against the wall and bending over to kiss her neck. He grabbed onto her waist and pulled her hips flush against his as he moved his lips up her neck, nipping her ear when he got to it.

“Ugh! Jason!” she moaned, digging her fingers into his shoulders as her head fell back in pleasure. He grinned at her response, delighting in how badly she wanted him as well, then slid his hand up her back to undo her zip. He pulled her sleeves off hastily, then stepped back to start removing his own clothes while she finished taking off hers. And then they were bare again, every curve and hollow of their naked bodies pressing up against one another’s as they continued devouring each other.

“Mmm, can't … can't wait,” Jason mumbled against her lips, lifting one of her legs and wrapping it around his waist. “Come … Come here, sweetheart.”

He ran his hand along her side, stopping to give her ass a little squeeze before taking hold of himself and guiding his c*ck back inside of her. He pressed himself into her, then sighed when he felt himself buried all the way inside of her. She let out a little squeak at the sudden intrusion, but then relaxed when he started prodding his tip against that one spot that made her head fall back with pleasure. He chuckled and moved his lips to the base of her jaw, kissing and licking his way down her throat as he thrust himself into her. He was so thick and so nice and she couldn't ever recall being so nicely filled up before. She grabbed onto the back of his head and moaned, rolling her own hips against his and trying to match his ever-increasing pace. He nipped at her collarbone and she felt her knees give way as her body started to contract. He grabbed hold of her other leg before she could fall, lifting her up and sitting her on his waist so he could support her instead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back against the wall, letting the haze of pleasure consume her entirely as he took care of her.

“Mmm, let me … I'll take care of you, baby,” Jason reassured her, his lips and tongue continuing to brush against her skin. He grinned smugly. “I always do. Right?” He snickered as she nodded her head, unable to form any words. God, she was hot. So f*cking hot, taking in his d*ck so nicely into that tight little p*ssy of hers. He nipped at her jaw, then dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass, a muttered curse falling from his lips as she came around him. F*ck, she felt good, squeezing him so desperately, doing her very best to cling onto him while her body shuddered and shook in his arms. It wasn't long before he was coming too, warm spurts of his c*m shooting into her and filling her up like he was marking her as his. But she was his now - she'd always been his, if he was being really honest, and he'd always been hers. He pulled back from her slightly, giving her the space to catch her breath as his own chest heaved with shallow pants.

“Jason,” she breathed, her beautiful breasts bouncing up and down as she breathed in and out. She sighed. “Shit, that felt good.” He grinned, delighted by her response, and set her back down onto her feet.

“Should we go for round two?” he teased her, not entirely joking. She pat his shoulder and pushed past him to pick up their suits.

“It's got to be, like, round ten by now!” she exclaimed, making her way over to her laundry room. She waddled a little as she walked, some of his c*m starting to seep out of her, and a thrill shot through Jason at the thought that he'd f*cked so good that she was finding it difficult to walk properly. He strode over to her.

“You know, we can always do this tomorrow, sweetheart,” he murmured against her shoulder after she'd shoved their suits into her washing machine. She turned to face him, a mischievous smile on her lips, her cheeks glowing as she looked up at him.

“You're right,” she agreed, gesturing between them. “We can always do this tomorrow.” She tried to walk away from him again, to go take a shower, but he stopped her, both hands on either side of her on top of the washing machine. She flashed him an exasperated look, folding her arms across her chest as she waited. He smirked, finding the expression all too adorable, and tilted her head up to press his lips against hers.

“I was talking about the laundry,” he informed her, his tongue brushing against hers teasingly. She moaned and reached her hands up to his shoulders.

“I was talking about us,” she replied, her tone equally as playful as she kissed him back. He lifted her up onto the washing machine, sitting her there so he could kiss her some more. But she pulled back eventually, a contemplative expression on her face as she brushed her fingers along his broad shoulders. “Um, Jace. Are we … Do you … Is this going to be, like, a thing from now on? Us?”

His lips curled at the corner as he brought her mouth back to his. “I sure hope so, sweetheart.”

She moaned and sank against him, relishing the tangy taste of him in her mouth. Then she pushed him back again. “No, I mean … I mean, like, dating. Are we … Are we gonna be together now? Is that … something you'd want?”

She gazed up at him, her eyes wide with hope, her teeth sinking into her lower lip with nerves. Jason had never seemed like a relationship kind of guy. Sure, he was a great best friend, but even then it had taken him ages to properly open up to her and let her in. But she knew she wouldn't be able to do an awkward friends-with-benefits sort of situation - she fell much too hard to ever be with someone who wouldn't commit themselves to her fully.

He gazed down at the apprehensive expression on her face. She was afraid that he'd be too scared to commit to her fully, he knew. But he'd already committed himself to her, hadn't he? As her best friend, her partner and her confidante in life? It was exactly like what she'd said before: they technically were already in a relationship - all that was missing was the sex. The sweet, sweet sex that he'd wasted so much time worrying about. He trailed his fingers down her collarbone and to her breast, appreciating the way she'd let him come to know her so deeply, so intimately. All of her, just for him. And all of him, just for her. He’d been given a second chance at life, sure, but he’d never fully felt alive, living, until he’d met her. She was just so full of life, passionate, appreciative, admiring of all that was beautiful in the world. He’d never thought that someone could care about him in the way that she did, let alone love him. He circled her nipple, playing the word over in his mind, testing the sound of it and imagining how it would feel in his mouth. Because he did love her. He’d loved her for a long time already. He’d just been too afraid to say it.

“Yes,” he agreed, doing his best to make his tone as firm as possible. “I want that. I want you. Do you … We can go out on a date? Tomorrow night? Do you want to watch a movie?” She grinned and he felt the tension ease from his body.

“A movie sounds nice,” she confirmed, wrapping her arms back around his neck. He leaned forward and gave her a hug, squeezing her tight as she ran her fingers through his hair. “But … we're going to have to tell everyone else, right?”

He winced at the thought, his stomach curdling in the same way he knew hers was - he could tell by her uncertain tone that she wasn't as amenable to the idea either. He sighed and straightened, his fingers still curled around her waist. “They'll figure out. They're detectives, right?”

He shrugged and she smiled, getting excited by the idea now. “Who do you think will figure it out first?”

“Ugh, probably Tim,” Jason admitted, rolling his eyes at the thought. The kid was smart, even chronically exhausted as he was. He'd probably put it together the quickest. Then again, he wasn't the most adept at romance.

“Hmm, I think it's going to be Bruce,” X decided, thinking about how he somehow found a way to keep tabs on them all the time. “Or maybe Selina if we bump into her by accident.” She was sharp, Catwoman - sharp enough to have sensed something between them even before they themselves had wanted to admit it. She'd always tease them when they went over to the mansion - Jason especially, since he was so easy to wind up. But she'd always been nice enough to X, the two of them bonding over their love of cats. Jason sighed again, knowing she was probably right.

“Doesn't matter,” he dismissed her concerns, bending over to press a kiss to her cheek. “That is a problem for another night.” She giggled as he lifted her onto his waist and carried her to her bedroom, intent on fulfilling his earlier promise to himself to spend the rest of the night ravishing her.

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood

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mangagirl5080 · 1 month

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Stuck with you

Hey guys, I'm in the middle of writing my StaticRadio fic and I'm very excited to share a snippet of the first chapter here while my beta reader looks through the rest. Please enjoy!

Summary:

When Vox gets trapped inside a virtual reality that grants his every desire, Alastor is sent in after him. Forced to play the role of devoted partner, Alastor must figure out how to get them both out of the program while learning how deep Vox's obsession for him goes and how he can use it to his advantage.

"And why, my dear, should we care that Vox was injured by his arrogance?"

Alastor delighted in watching Velvette scowl, gripping her bedazzled phone almost hard enough to crack the screen. Meanwhile, Charlie turned to him with the oh-so-predictable puppy eyes that practically begged him to finish hearing the media overlord out.

Turning away from the pitiful display, he sipped his coffee as nonchalantly as possible before focusing his attention back to Velvette, giving her a mocking grin as he leaned further into his chair. "After all, we are not responsible for his actions. If he wanted to take on an up-and-coming newcomer, that's his responsibility."

Scoffing at his lack of tact, Vaggie placed her hand tenderly over Charlie's arm to comfort her, muttering under her breath comments about his own massive arrogance that he chose to ignore.

With a sigh, she addressed the small group, "As much as I hate to admit it, Alastor has a point. This isn't our problem. We're here to rehabilitate sinners, not get caught up in Overlord drama." Seeing Charlie about to argue, she turned towards her and stopped her. "Honey, Vox is known to crush anyone that threatens his media empire. It's not surprising that someone would eventually manage to fuck him up."

It wasn't enough to deter, as Charlie continued her protests "But Vaggie, he's not just hurt- he's comatose! His friends are worried enough about him that they're here asking for help, isn't that a big step forward?"

Humming lightly, Alastor asked, "The same friends who allowed Vox to surround the hotel with his silly flying cameras?" His grin widened as he watched Charlie deflate slightly.

"Well yes- I mean no-"

"Who also allowed him to send spies to this establishment?"

"That one turned out okay-"

"The same friend group that consists of Valentino?"

She froze with this statement, glancing over at the bar area where the rest of the hotel residents were gathered, and he knew his point had hit home. Angel Dust hadn't moved from his stiff perch on the bar stool, keeping the group in his line of sight as he downed a truly impressive amount of drinks with a dark look.

Seeing the Princess' hesitation, Velvette reigned in her annoyance and attempted to regain an air of nonchalance as she started tapping away at her phone, "Alright bitches, if you do this favour for us, the Vees will give you prime advertising space. I've even managed to get the pissbaby to cut down the white prick's hours by half," Raising her eyes to meet Charlie's, "That a good enough deal for you lot?"

The short silence that followed was only broken by Angel Dust's sudden hacking as he choked on his drink, staring in shock even as tears started streaming.

Husk rushed over to help, patting his back helpfully and taking the offending drink, placing it safely out of reach for the time being.

After a few moments, Angel Dust could speak again, forcing the words through a raw throat. "Val's really gonna give me fewer hours?"

Velvette rolled her eyes with a huff, but at least deigned to answer with a quick nod. He barely managed to share a disbelieving smile with Husk before Charlie tackled him in a celebratory hug, Nifty not far behind.

Vaggie watched the scene with a small smile, keeping back. "If we manage to send out our advert properly this time, we might be able to gain more patrons."

As the staff started to chat excitedly about the opportunities that this could present them with, Alastor watched on in boredom, sipping his coffee once more while he studied Velvette, who had finally started to relax as the others got more animated.

Vox must truly be in a pathetic state if Velvette was willing to stoop so low as to offer fantastical favours for just an attempt at helping. And that wasn't to mention Valentino's reaction. He had heard how possessive he was over his employees, time off was practically unheard of. Yet here he was, offering his biggest star the chance to only work half his hours with zero consequences. That had been mentioned, at least.

He still had no real interest in helping any of the media overlords, but he couldn't deny how hilarious it would be if he was the one who helped his so-called 'biggest rival'.

The image of Vox awakening from his humiliating slumber before finding out that not only was it Alastor who helped him but that he now had to pay back that favour whenever Alastor wished it.

Oh, the expression of rage that would produce caused his grin to widen to an almost painful degree.

Yes, that would more than make the effort worth it.

Setting down his cup before slipping into the shadows, he reappeared directly behind the group and placed his hands on Charlie's unsuspecting shoulders. His iron grip was all that kept her in place when she started shrieking and tripping over her own two feet.

Before anyone else could scream or kick up a fuss, he let go of the Princess' shoulders to summon his microphone and address the group, swanning around them dramatically.

"Now my friends, if we want to be able to reap these rewards that were so graciously offered to us, we best be on our way. No more dallying, please- The sooner we start, the sooner it's over with!" A cheering soundtrack followed his words as he summoned a shadow portal on the nearby wall and began to herd the group towards it.

Or tried to- Velvette stepped in front of it, hands on her hips and displeased scowl on her face and she glared up at him.

"Oi, hold it! I'm not chaperoning seven of you fuckers through the tower. Choose three of you to go and that's it. I am not going to be treated like some kind of glorified babysitter."

Grappling back control of the situation, Charlie pushed her way to the front of the others and spun to face them with a tight smile. "Oh, yes. Ok, so I'll go as a representative of this hotel with Vaggie," At this, her girlfriend gave her a grateful smile, "Is there anyone else who'd like to join?"

Predictably, Angel Dust didn't look very keen on the idea of returning to his place of work if he wasn't needed. Similarly, Pentious was unlikely to run to his ex-idol's aid, and Husk wouldn't go if he wasn't forced. Nifty, however, was practically vibrating in excitement, smile sharp and dangerous at the chance to meet more 'bad boys'.

Alastor tapped her lightly with his staff to get her attention, then shook his head once she met his eyes. She pouted, but it was mostly for show, and she quickly focused her attention on a nearby cockroach.

Alastor smiled, pleased at the ease. Perhaps he could find some nice knives for her good behaviour.

Stepping forward with a twirl of his staff, he put a hand to the place where his heart should be and sighed loudly. "Why, how could I ever leave Vox in such a vulnerable state? The thought alone breaks my heart."

Ignoring the disbelieving looks around him, he focused on Charlie, who looked about ready to burst into song about him gaining compassion for another or something just as frivolous.

But of course, Vaggie had to speak up.

"Hun, are you sure about this? Those two have never got along. I don't know what he's planning but I don't trust him around Vox if he's vulnerable. Alastor's too much of an opportunist to let this pass him. We can't afford for this to turn into a shit show between overlords and get caught in the crossfire."

Repressing an almost violent eye-roll at the comment, he responded as cheerfully as he could manage. "Oh please, there's nothing fun about taking out an unarmed opponent."

Honestly, it was like these people didn't want him to have any form of entertainment outside of the hotel. No killing, no dismembering; he wasn't even allowed to torment the staff too much before it got turned into a lecture on respecting his fellow demon.

Not that it stopped him, but still.

#staticradio #radiostatic #fanfic #fanfiction #wip #hazbin vox #alastor

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weird-is-life · 7 months

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hi dear! could you maybe write bucky x short!reader and he teases her for it? just cute fluffy teasing you know ~ if u decide to do it, thank you!

Hi lovely, ty for this request!!🥰 I hope this is okay. Honestly, being a short queen would be great with Bucky🤧, warning: fluff, pet names, (0.6k)

It is no secret, that you are very short. And over the years, you have learnt, that sometimes it can be a problem.

Like it is right now. The light went out in the bedroom, more specifically the light that's hanging from the ceiling. And you don't want to not change it now in case you forget about it and later, when you will need it, have a problem.

Usually you'd have Bucky change the light bulb, but he isn't home yet, so it is up to you to do it. As you examine the height of the ceiling, you know you'll need a chair or two.

So the next thing you know, you are standing on top of a stool, that's on top of a chair. It's definitely not the smartest decision you've ever made, but what can a girl do?

In the middle of your 'mission', Bucky comes home. And when he finds you on that wobbly thing, his heart almost gives out.

"What the hell, sweetheart?" he immediately comes behind you, hand gripping your thighs to steady you.

"Hi, Bucky," you greet him, not really paying attention to his worried voice. And as you go on your tiptoes, the stool with the chair wobble dangerously. It is all it takes for Bucky to lift you up and put you safely on the ground.

"Hey...-," you frown at him, "why'd you do that?"

"You mean saving you from a fall, before you could break your neck?" he rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed by your lack of worry.

"I was changing the light bulb and I almost had it," you scowl at him, "and it is perfectly save, I've tested it out."

"Why didn't you just wait for me, doll?" he groans, he doesn't want to come home to you doing this kind of dangerous stuff.

"Because I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself," you respond, as you try to climb onto the chair again. But you are not even one leg up on it, before Bucky is manhandling you away from it.

"Sweetheart, you are seriously trying to bring me a heart attack right now," he sighs and takes the new light bulb from your hands. It's a quick work and before you know it, the light is working again.

"Here, it's done," he announces with a proud smile.

"Don't be so smug about it, it's not my fault, that the ceiling is so high," you complain.

"It's not high...," he smirks, " you are just too tiny, sweet thing."

"I'm not," you protest, even though you know, you are, " the ceiling is just too damn high."

"Right, you aren't short, that is not the case at all, huh?" He teases you, hands squeezes your hips.

"Nope." You lie, trying to fight back the smile.

"No?," he raises his eyebrows," how come I need to get you everything from the highest shelf in the kitchen? Or how come I need to wipe the dust away on the higher bookshelves? Or how come i need to lift you up every damn year to help you decorate the higher part of the Christmas tree? Or how-"

"- fine Bucky, I give up, i think we both know the point was made," you frown some more at him and try to take a step back from his smart-ass.

"Oh come on, baby. I was just messing with you," he instantly pulls you closer with his hands on your back, "I love that you are short."

"Really? And why is that?"

"Because," he grins at you," I can easily do this." He kisses your forehead, he basically just starts to attack your face with kisses. And it is enough to bring a huge, warm smile to both of your faces.

If being short means, that Bucky will kiss you crazy, you can definitively live with it, and pretty happily, may I add.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes

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cottoncandy-cult · 8 months

Text

Ban x Reader

(Y/N) was in the kitchen with Ban as he prepared several orders, that night was a busy night at the boar's hat as they had once again moved to a new area. She wasn't a server but rather she did the dishes, needless to say she spent a lot of time with the silver haired man. But yet they rarely ever spoke, both usually engrossed in their work. Even outside of the kitchen, the only ones she actually spoke to were Meliodas and King. She and the other girls were just too different to actually hang out, she was a tomboy and a drinker who was just too quiet. When they weren't working, she was usually sitting in a back corner table and drinking while she worked on her art. She had a book that she drew in, having a photographic memory made things easier for her to fill the pages. She had even drawn the sins, not that she told any of them. Gowther knew but is that really a surprise? "Hey (Y/N), Elizabeth isn't feeling well. Can you take over for her?" The captain of the sins peeked his little blonde head in, giving her a smile that she just couldn't say no to. "Sure thing, be right out." She called to him with a soft smile, quickly trying to untie her apron.

At least until she realized she tied it weird and couldn't see what she was doing, blushing deeply she turned to Ban who was taking a short break. "Uh... Ban... Can you help me?" Her blush darkened as he looked up at him, that sexy smirk dancing across his face. "Sure, what do you need?" He spoke with a slight drawl, approaching her as she turned her back and looked over her shoulder. "Can you untie me; I can't see what I'm doing." Her cheeks were cherry red as he stepped up behind her, she could feel his warm hands brushing against her exposed skin thanks to her uniform. She tensed a little when feeling his hand brush against her butt, then she felt the apron come undone while he stepped back and chuckled. "There you go." She quickly removed her apron and tossed it over a nearby chair, mumbling a sweet but shy thank you before she rushed out without seeing the blush on thief's cheeks. He had touched her bum on purpose out of impulse, mostly because it just looked so soft, and he had to see for himself.

After they closed up (Y/N) was beat, her feet ached alongside her back as she took a seat at the now empty bar and laid her head down. Though she glanced up when hearing the stool to her right move and the sound of something being sat in front of her, when (E/c) eyes looked up all she initially saw was a mug of beer and when she glanced to the right, she spotted a grinning silver fox. "You look like you could use a drink." He shrugged his broad shoulders and leaned forward onto the bar before he began sipping his beer, she felt a smile creep across her face and slowly sat up beginning to drink the beer put in front of her. "Thanks... There's a reason I prefer the kitchen over working out here on the floor." She giggled and the angelic sound made him chuckle a bit, while nodding his head he spoke up. "I know what you mean, I don't care much for working with customers."

That night was 2 weeks ago, the two had spent all night drinking and talking about anything that came to mind. He actually helped pull her from her shell, something that made the others happy as well. Currently they had stopped in some kind of forest, taking a break from traveling and working. There was a town about 20 minutes away by foot and Elizabeth had gone with Meliodas into town to gather some supplies. It wasn't clear what the others were doing, but (Y/N) was settled under a tree and began drawing in her book. She had been drawing a picture of Ban, King had once told her of the days that he had his long hair, and it made her curious. She had never tried drawing anyone or anything without it being something from memory, at least not since she was a kid. She was just finishing up when a voice startled her, luckily it wasn't enough to make her mess up the image. "What're ya drawing?"

She easily recognized this cheeky tone as Ban's voice, making her blush darkly and quickly move to shut her book. "Nothing really... Just... Doodling..." Her voice was soft and shy as she suddenly felt like a bunny under his crimson gaze, Ban's smirk growing as he hopped on top of her. His fingers glided over her sides, her beautiful laughter escaping as she squirmed and tried to push him away with one arm while holding the book up with the other. Unfortunately for her she ended up tossing her sketch book to the side, though she was too busy trying to escape from his tickles to notice. That was when he had quickly jumped up, taking advantage of her panting tired out form, he quickly grabbed her sketch book. When she noticed she quickly tried to grab it, but he held it up, making her hop but even then, she still couldn't reach it.

"Come on (Y/N), let me have a look. You know I won't judge you." His smirk turned into a sweet smile, making her blush and step back. She looked away before nodding her head softly, making him pat her hair gently before he began looking over all of her drawings. His grin was growing, he was amazed at this secret talent of hers. He realized that despite all the talking they've done lately he knows nothing about her really, she was an enigma to him, and it was weirdly attractive to the albino male. "Wow... Why didn't you tell me you could do this?" His words came out soft but deep, making her cheeks a crimson color. "I feel like it might creep people out because I draw them..."

His chuckle made her heart flutter as he looked at her, his eyes seemed so soft and sweet. "I'm sure the others wouldn't care, especially with how awesome you've made us look... Your drawings are almost as beautiful as you..." His words caught her off guard, but before she could say anything he had planted his warm lips against hers. She was shocked at first, but quickly began to kiss back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his curled around her waist. It was pure bliss for her, being in his arms made her feel warm and safe. When the kiss broke, she gazed up at him with glossy (E/c) eyes, giving him a sweet smile. "Seems there's truly nothing you can't steal." Her voice was sweet, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. The silver haired man simply smiled and leaned his forehead on hers, slowly swaying with her in his arms. "I love you (Y/N)... No one will ever steal you from me..."

#ban #seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #candy cult vault #ban x reader #fem reader #fluff #7ds fluff

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colormepurplex2 · 9 months

Text

On Wings of Mist & Memories | Shadowsword

↳ DragonRider!Jungkook x FieldScribe!f.Reader ⤜ Enemies to Lovers, Exiled Royalty, High Fantasy ⤜ Rating: MA | angst ⤜ WC: 7,937 ⚠️ Crass language, combat/violence, sword fighting, minor character deaths, talk of war, mild torture for information (punching), brief nudity (nonsexual, mostly), sexual references and feelings

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to series masterlist

Glossary Mave - dragon rider who can wield magic, tethered to the soul of their dragon when they bond (death for both if one dies) Psion - infinite memory/recall Reaver - a dragon that can wield magic, tethered to the soul of the rider they bond (death for both if one dies) Noks - infantry soldiers, humanoids who can enter berserk/rage mode Rider - regular dragon rider, no magic, uses bows or scouts Brute - riderless dragon, usually wild and very dangerous Wielder - magic user, no dragon needed Signis - the designated/specific type of power someone wields

“General Marvick!” a harried voice, muffled by the wind and snow, shouts from outside the tethered tent flaps.

The large, formidable form sitting at the head of the war table throws a murderous glare toward the canvas-covered entryway. “Bulwark, let him in,” General Marvick growls before resuming assessing the map stretched over the table.

The Nok lieutenant by the door—Bulwark—snatches at the short length of the tassel used to secure the tent flap against the harsh winds coming off the mountain. As soon as the tie loosens, the large swath of canvas covering the command tent's entrance billows inward, bringing with it a sharp gust of biting wind and a messenger bundled in snow-covered furs.

“General,” the messenger says, bringing an arm up to cross over his chest in salute. “I bring a missive from the Crown.”

General Marvick glances at you before nodding toward the messenger. You push up from your small camp stool placed a few feet from the edge of the table. A place close enough to hear the words spoken around the war table but far enough so you don’t get in the way.

The messenger glares at you as you approach them. You hold out an expectant hand, meeting that sneer with a steady gaze. The messenger clearly knows who—what—you are, and just as most people, he already has a preconceived opinion on it; a hatred that extends back thousands of years, an ingrained fear of what you represent.

“If you don’t mind,” you politely urge.

The distance between you and the snow-covered man increases as he takes a few steps back to try and skirt around you. “General Marvick, this is a missive directly from the Crown. I’m to place it in your hand and your hand alone.”

Silence falls in the tent after his rushed proclamation. The creak of General Marvick’s chair sounds a moment before you feel a large presence filling the space immediately to your side. In the many years you’ve been in service to the general, you still find yourself in awe at the sheer amount of muscle and brawn contained within the lightly bronzed, leather flight armor.

“Her hand is my hand. Give her the parchment before I run you through with my sword, boy!” General Marvick growls, looming over the now trembling messenger. The folded missive is thrust into your still-waiting palm. “Now, get the fuck out of my sight!”

The messenger’s retreating footsteps are swallowed by the snow as he scrambles to leave. Bulwark quickly secures the tent flap back into place, sealing out the blustering wind.

“Fuckin’ Golden Birds,” grumbles Colonel Rit Goris, second in command, from his spot to the left of General Marvick’s empty seat. “Always think that because they’re direct messengers from the Crown, they somehow hold a higher status than the gods damned War General.”

General Marvick swings your way, glancing at the letter. “Read it, then report.”

You nod, watching as the general settles back at the table. General Poli Marvick is the only woman you’ve ever seen serve in such a position. Sure, there are plenty of non-males within the varying military wings, but never one in such a high position as War General—commander of all.

You were scared when you were first assigned to General Marvick’s service. Just laying eyes on the mountain of a woman made you a bit weak in the knees, larger than most men you’ve seen. A permanent scowl mares her angular face. A jagged scar bisects her right eyebrow and slashes in a stark line across her cheek to the corner of her severe mouth. If her hair weren’t shorn so close to her scalp, she would be sporting wheat-colored curls. Her glacial eyes are unnerving, such a bright blue that they’re almost white, and they miss nothing.

You resume your seat, perching on the small camp stool and tucking your ankles under it. The cloak around your shoulders sways, covering your arms as you lean forward a bit. Your uniform is simple, fur-lined leather pants and a thick wool tunic, all in muted colors to blend in with the mountainous environment you’re in.

Being stationed at Fort Orit—the furthest northern garrison in the Gilded Ranges, the large mountain rift that divides the Kingdom of Bolas—means there is a constant drift of snow coming down, and the air outside is cold enough to split skin if you’re not careful. The light leather and linen clothes you’d typically wear have been tucked away in a trundle under your camp cot ever since you arrived at Fort Orit with General Marvick almost a year ago.

War has ravaged Bolas for nearly ten summers. It’s almost like that’s all you’ve ever known, having been barely into your teen years when the kingdom seemed to implode in on itself. From everything you’ve been taught—everything you believe you know—blame is laid at the feet of the last son of the Crown; the heir that wanted power before it was his to claim by rights. The texts and scrolls filling the war archives talk of a malevolent son who tried to murder his parents in their sleep. He’s been fighting to steal the kingdom and the throne ever since.

Focusing on the letter in your hands, you take a slow breath and focus on how it feels. The parchment is smooth and high-quality, denoting a communication from the Crown. Warmth spreads over your chest, trickling between your breasts with a familiar caress as you seek the inner well of your power. You direct the heat and probe at the letter, feeling for any blemishes that might indicate sinister intentions beyond the golden wax seal.

Nothing stands out as you continue to assess the parchment. Satisfied you won’t get immediately hexed or explode, you slide your thumb under the fold by the seal and pop the wax. You watch as the golden wax, imprinted with the dragon signet of the Crown, pulls away from the paper, and you delicately smooth out the trifold sheet, all while keeping a tight hold on that warmth in your chest in case something lies in wait within the scrawled ink.

Your eyes rove the page, consuming the words and filing them away into your infinite space of recall. That space—it’s why you’re here, why you’re feared…but also why you’re valued above all else. The words are typical of what you’ve come to expect in General Marvick’s service, a meeting to discuss military affairs.

As if sensing your impending disruption, the chatter at the table subsides with a raised hand from Marvick, her wintry eyes sliding your way. You give her a barely perceptible nod before standing and folding the paper back up, pinching it between your fingers as your hands automatically slide to rest on the small of your back. Your shoulders roll back, and your chin rises slightly as you recite the words of the missive verbatim.

“A summons for a redirect…today? Noon?” Goris asks once you’re finished, his silver-flecked bushy mustache quivering with the flurry of irritated words. “Hours before we’re set to advance the forward lines?”

General Marvick turns to take in the faces around the table, meeting all their eyes as they digest your words and Goris’ remark. They’re all leaders of some kind, designated to different quadrants across the whole of the flight wings. Below Goris in command are Majors Elis Niharmer and Hern Ta. You’re familiar with the men, as they’ve frequented the command tent more than the lesser two leaders, Captains Ulgrin Krut and Moojin Lee.

“If that is what the Crown wants, then so be it.” General Marvick’s words might be in subservience to the summons, but you can tell by the tautness of her shoulders that she’s not happy in the slightest with the request. Noon is when the lines are meant to be marshaled for forward advancement down the mountain before winter sets in and freezes out the entire fort. The first winter storm has been slowly gaining momentum on the peaks, adding to the existing snowdrop.

When General Marvick took over this post a year ago, she realized that the casualty ledgers recorded almost as many deaths by cold than by rebel hands. She immediately put in a directive that would see the entire garrison safely below the winter deathline of the mountain before the season changed.

There is a smaller garrison, Fort Supret, further south, and one valley back that is to be where the outpost settles until the season rolls over again. It’s not nearly as defensible as the ruins of Fort Orit, nor is it advantageous in keeping an eye on the Andos Forest—the gnarled and dark-looking wood the rebels find refuge in when they’re not trying to break the Front Wing’s lines.

Captain Krut, a rotund man with a glaring bald spot, shrugs his meaty shoulders. “I sent a few Maves and Riders ahead yesterday. They can handle the forward orders for the Eastern line. As long as this summons doesn’t last more than a fortnight, all should be well on my end.”

“Ta, Niharmer, Lee?” General Marvick asks of the three remaining men around the table.

Major Lee nods toward Krut. “The same as Ulgrin. I sent ahead two Maves and three Riders. They should be able to get things rolling if I am needed elsewhere.” Krut grumbles at Lee’s use of his first name. The man is quite prickly about being reminded he’s named for his treasonous father. The senior Ulgrin Krut was part of the rebellion uprising that led to the war currently being waged across the Gilded Ranges—the war that has brought you and all these war leaders together here.

“Well, I would hope I could sit this one out,” Major Niharmer grunts, his chain armor straining around his substantial, scarred bulk. Dark scars criss-cross over the backs of his hands and along his neck and cheeks, the ebony skin puckered in some places and divoted in others. He’s seen more battles than all of them combined, except for Marvick. The only reason he doesn’t hold her or Goris’ higher position is because he refuses to take on more responsibility. “A few detachments suffered greatly last month along my western line. I think I’d be better suited riding out with reinforcements than meeting with the Crown. Even with the Maves and Riders I also sent out last night, I’d feel better going myself.”

Major Ta quirks a smile, his filed teeth glinting in the mana globes suspending over the table. His teeth have always put you on edge. Word has it, he files them nightly to keep them sharp and enjoys using them as much as his sword in battle. “If I didn’t know any better, Elis, I might think you rather hated wearing anything other than your armor with as much as you avoid taking it off in favor of dinner finery.”

Niharmer cuts a glare toward Ta, his austere eyes flicking over the other man. “Better than the fancy silks you cover yourself in,” he mutters. “Damned fool, slide right off your mount.”

“Gentlemen, please,” General Marvick cuts in. “I’ll have your answer now, Ta.”

Major Ta shifts in his seat, the silk of his trousers hissing over the hardwood of the chair. You’ve never seen him wear anything besides silk, even against the frigid temperatures outside. He wears nothing more than a silken doublet and trousers with supple leather boots. You know he’s a Mave, as are the others seated at the table, but unlike the others, you’ve never been granted the knowledge of what his Signis, the power the Maves wield, is. You speculate it’s what keeps him from needing a coat, though.

“None of my company have ridden out yet,” he admits, glancing around at the others to see if they react to that confession. Goris’ muscles flex in his forearms, but that’s the only indication that any of them disapprove of Ta’s seeming lack of forethought. “Much like Elis, I’d prefer to accompany my forward line. We lost more than a dozen Noks during the last push from the rebels. I need to be there before we move again.”

Marvick clears her throat, glancing down at the war map on the table. It indicates the losses, so she’s well aware that some of the front lines are weakening with every push from the enemy. “Very well. Niharmer, Ta, you’ll return to your forces. Lee, I want you to ride out with Ta. Provide him with any reinforcements you can spare since your garrison is the closest. Expect a farflight Rider within the week for any updates this summons from the Crown provides. In the meantime, I’ll send word to the capitol, requesting an advance on the next rush of support. We’re set to receive a dozen new squads at the end of the month. We’ll see if that can be expedited.”

“Very well, General,” the three men murmur as they salute and then excuse themselves from the table. Bulwark loosens the ties on the tent, letting the canvas flap in the wind as the men leave.

“Goris, Krut, you’ll be accompanying me. Meet me at the flight deck in one hour's time. You’re dismissed.”

“General,” Goris and Krut say, tilting their chins and crossing an arm over their chests toward Marvick before disappearing beyond Bulwark, still holding the tent flap.

Marvick stands from the table, her eyes sweeping over the map one last time. “Igno,” she whispers. The sweet scent of vanilla soaks the air within the tent as General Marvick’s magic blooms. The miniature figurines that represent squad and garrison locations shimmer before disappearing completely. Where they go, you’re not sure. You’ve never mustered the courage to ask her about her Signis in depth. All you know is she can make anything smaller than the Gilded Ranges without a heartbeat vanish and reappear as and where she wills it.

“You’ll be attending with me,” she says to you as she turns for the open door. “Be ready to fly.” She stops at the tent entrance, her gaze locking on the man wrestling with the flap against the wind. “Call in the Bearers, Lieutenant Bulwark. I expect to see the command tents erected at Fort Supret by the time I return in one week’s time.”

Left to your own devices for the next hour, you know you need to ready your tent for transport and change into your flight garb. Moving past Bulwark, you give him a slight nod before trudging into the knee-deep snow surrounding the tent. Cold seeps through your thick leather boots quickly, the fur lining doing little to thwart the chill kissing your toes.

The tent you use is next to General Marvick’s, which has already begun being dismantled by a hustle of Bearers. They’re efficient, even with the heavy snow. You know they train in these mountains before joining whichever garrison they’re assigned, ensuring they’re as good as possible in the sometimes 10-foot snowdrifts.

You tug at the flap to your tent, kicking away the snow collected in front of it. “Fucking shit,” you curse as a chunk of snow slides off your tent and catches you in the shoulder, sending a blitz of snow straight down the collar of your tunic.

The cacophony of camp noise muffles behind the thick canvas of your tent once you’re inside. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to just how loud it is here. Despite the mountain's utter stillness and quiet air, the tens of thousands of combat-ready bodies filling all the crooks and valleys between peaks make it feel more like you’re stuck in the middle of a great city instead.

Though, you suppose Fort Orit is a city all its own. There is no proper “fort” to speak of, just old crumbling ruins that help keep the worst of the wind out. You can’t imagine what it would be like to go patrol beyond the broken masonry. Thankfully, you should never have to find out. The summons is set to take place in the furthest western turret of the fort, the only one still intact after thousands of years of weathering the cold and snow.

From what you’ve heard, Fort Orit used to be one of the greatest mountain garrisons, but it was nearly destroyed when the rebellion first launched. Until a year ago, the rebel forces had claimed it as their forwardmost outpost. Thanks to General Marvick, though, the rebels have been pushed far beyond the Barren Wake and into the Andos Forrest at the base of the mountains.

As long as the Gilded Ranges remain under the control of the Crown, the rebels are considered to be ‘losing’. Considering what you learned in that war meeting, though, you’re not sure how much losing they’re doing. Several places along the front lines have been devastated over the last few months, more so in the previous few weeks.

It used to be that most of the pushing to overthrow the Crown’s forces took place at Fort Orit, hence why that’s where General Marvick was stationed. You hate to admire the enemy forces, but it seems they’ve wised up and altered their tactics, acting more like a real army than a band of rebels. But that line of thinking can only spell trouble for you if anyone finds out. They are power-hungry rebels, chaotic and disorganized, nothing more—according to everything you’ve been taught.

🖤🖤🖤

Less than an hour later, your tent is with the Bearers, and you’re waiting on the flight deck—a large outcropping of sheer rock—for General Marvick. Goris and Krut are locked in a private conversation a few dozen feet away. The flight deck is clear of snow, thanks to the rock being enchanted with a warming spell to keep the ice from accumulating and impacting launches.

The creak of leather draws your attention to the swayback stairs cut into the rock face that leads to the deck. General Marvick comes into view, her flight goggles already down over her eyes. You’ve learned they help in the air and on the ground against the stinging wind. Your own goggles sit firmly across your face, the clear lenses only occasionally catching an errant snowflake.

“Let’s go, gentlemen,” General Marvick calls to Goris and Krut, who snap apart, startled by her sudden command. They both salute her and fish under the neck bindings of their flight uniforms for tiny bone whistles. The cries from the whistles are imperceptible to human ears, but the sudden thrum of concussed air coming from over the lip of the flight deck lets you know they work.

You glance at General Marvick as she’s tucking her own whistle back under her uniform. She gestures for you to move behind her, which you obey. A moment later, your breath wheezes from your lungs as three hulking figures rocket over the ledge and land with ground-shaking thumps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to seeing them—dragons.

They tower over you. The largest, General Marvick’s red dragon, Lowren, is three times taller than she is as he settles back on his haunches, wild barbed tail flicking restlessly behind him. The other two, Krut’s brown named Erle and Goris’ green called Ripley, are slightly smaller but no less fierce looking. Their thick membrane wings flex as they naturally accommodate the wind ripping across the flight deck.

Strapped to each dragon by adamantine supports crossing their chests are flight saddles. Most dragon saddles seat a single rider, but General Marvick special ordered a dual-seat saddle so you can accompany her without the need of a horse, which is ‘slow and dull’ according to her.

She once had to wait nearly a fortnight for you to arrive at a war brief simply because the horse and caravan you were riding with traveled far slower than Lowren. Ever since, you’ve had the pleasure of riding in the small extra seat crafted behind hers.

“Shouldn’t be more than an hour’s ride,” Goris calls, shielding his eyes with a hand as he gazes up into the swirling sky to judge the weather. “Wind’s against us, but it doesn’t look like anything worse than usual coming in from the east. Plenty of time to wait for the portal to the capitol to form.”

General Marvick nods. “Mount up. Let’s get this over with.” She launches herself up, grappling with the pommel and reigns of the saddle until she’s settled in her seat. Then, she extends a hand down to you. You are grateful for Lowren; he lowers himself until his scaled belly scuffs the hard stone, and you only have to jump about a foot to grab onto Marvick’s hand to be hoisted up.

The first time you met Lowren, you could barely breathe as his green eyes flicked over you, assessing whether or not you were worthy of being astride him. After several moments where you thought your heart might explode, he finally huffed a warm puff of air into your face and then nudged the center of your chest with his snout—approval.

Lowren straightens, and the now familiar sinking in your belly as he prepares to launch skyward is comforting. You’ve never felt more powerful than when sitting on the back of Lowren. Even if you’re not the one in control of the reigns, the sheer mass and energy of the creature under you is enough.

You’re aware that General Marvick and Lowren can communicate without words. During your years of training as a field scribe, you learned enough about Reavers—dragons like Lowren who can wield magic and have a soul-deep bond with their rider—and Maves—those magic-wielding riders. The bond allows telepathic communication, something you’ve envied from the moment you learned it. Being who—what—you are, you can’t help but feel some sort of kinship because of that.

You can feel the tight coiling of Lowren’s flight muscles a second before his wings snap out and scoop the air, rocketing into the sky. There is a full grin on your face, even as the wind tears at your exposed skin. You can’t help it. Before frost can nip at your cheeks further, you hastily pull up your wool neck scarf to cover everything exposed beneath your flight goggles.

At the peak of the flight, the clouds clear enough that you catch a glimpse of the Andos Forest. It’s hard to believe it’s filled with tens of thousands of rebels, apparently led by the rebel prince himself. You’ve never seen him, or at least you don’t think you have. Marvick tries to keep you as far away from the fighting as possible. But, you have witnessed a few skirmishes and raids, even with her vigilance.

The shudder that runs through you has little to do with the cold and everything to do with the fact you’re sure you saw a large dark shadow move within the trees before your view is obscured by clouds again. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but if it wasn’t…there’s only one thing in that forest that would be that big, and you’d rather not think about that right now.

The western turret of the fort comes into view, the stone crenulations on top jutting into the sky like an open maw lined in teeth. The side of the turret has been opened, exposing the belly of the main room, making it big enough to accommodate the bulk of the dragons as they land. They still snap at each other as they vie for space. Elre snorts a puff of smoke at Ripley when she gets too close but sidesteps completely when Lowren bares his teeth at him.

“Right on time,” Goris announces as Lowren brings you and Marvick between Elre and Ripley. A soft glow forms across the room, indicating the start of a large portal being opened. The summons said to be here at noon and await an outlet from the capitol to bring Marvick and her attendees to the barracks courtyard back at the palace. You all dismount, as it’s easier to go through a portal not on the back of a beast. One false move and you could injure yourself on the pulse of the portal itself.

You pull your cloak tighter, trying to keep the cold from digging too deep while being exposed like this so high up in the turret. You’ve seen hundreds of portals opened. Once the bluish glow begins to form, it should only take a few breaths before it’s opened. But, for some reason, the blue light is only pulsing, not extending into a gateway.

Marvick shifts on her feet beside you, the clink of her chainmail seems too loud in your ears as nerves prick along your spine. Something’s wrong. You look at the other two, gauging their reactions. Goris glares at the blue glow like he could will it to open with his sour look. Krut’s focus isn’t on the blue light. Instead, he’s staring skyward, a tilted smirk on his lips.

Your eyes sweep up, following his gaze. The sky swirls overhead, clouds scuttling across the dim beams of sunlight that manage to penetrate the wintry haze around the mountain. Your chin tilts up, the neck scarf sliding below your nose as you try to see whatever it is that has his attention.

You’re about to bring it to Marvick’s attention when a silhouette appears against a murky beam of pitiful sunlight—fear claws at your throat, silencing the scream that wants so badly to escape. Lashing out with a hand, you clamp it around the bulge of Marvick’s forearm, shoving up as hard as possible. Her head whips to the side before snapping up with your silent plea.

It all happens so quickly. The blue glow disappears, and a vast black form drops from the sky with a piercing screech, a dragon’s cry louder than any you’ve ever heard. The turret shudders under your feet before it begins to crumble as the dragon slams down, separating your party from their own dragons. You pitch forward, knocked off balance by the sudden sway and slope of the floor.

“Run!” General Marvick bellows at you before drawing her sword. You catch sight of Krut and Goris also brandishing their own weapons. The bulk of the dragon blots out most of the light from the open side of the turret, obscuring your view of the rider on its back. All you can see is an iron-clad leg tucked behind the massive wing of the beast. The dragon is monstrous, with sable scales glinting like wet tar. Golden eyes sit above a vicious row of snarling teeth as it snaps its jaws in the air and roars again.

“Shadowsword!” Goris snarls, keying you into who the rider is upon the dragon’s back. You’ve only heard that name whispered on currents of fear, breathed into tales of nightmares; Shadowsword—the military commander of the rebel army and one of the strongest Maves to ever draw breath.

Your feet skitter over the stone floor as you try to keep your balance and escape through the archway exit of the turret and into the stairwell leading down. Two more ground-shaking thumps hit the turret, and hope surges in your chest, thinking that two of the other dragons are trying to assist. You spin, backpedaling toward the exit, hoping to confirm. But, you nearly lose your footing as shock barrels through you.

Two dragons are ripping at the edge of the opening to the turret, but neither of them are dragons you recognize. One is a snarling burnt orange dragon with a large crown of red spikes jutting from behind its eyes, and the other is pearly grey with pinkish wings. They rip at the stones, trying to bring the walls down.

Ear-piercing dragon screams rend the air before you catch a glimpse of green, brown, and red flashing beyond the bodies crowding the turret. The floor shudders so hard it clacks your teeth together and weakens your knees. You hit the ground, sliding on your hands a few feet in the opposite direction from the exit.

“Go, you fool girl!” Goris yells, appearing in front of you just in time to parry a lashing dragon tail coming right at you. The scale appendage rebounds off the steel of his weapon, and you can tell it sends pain radiating up his arms from the cry he lets out. Goris launches forward, but a sweeping wing knocks him off his feet.

A primal wail echoes from somewhere outside the turret, and then a solid thump hits the floor beside you, drawing your attention before you can think better of it. Krut’s unseeing green eyes stare at you, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. You scream, scrambling backward on your ass to get away from his body, which you now realize is missing everything from the waist down.

You never see him dismount, much less circuit the room so he’s behind you. But you knock into his solid legs all the same. Your face snaps up, instinctively seeking out what’s halted your progress toward the exit, only to stare up into the most menacing brown eyes you’ve ever seen—Shadowsword. A golden helmet covers the rest of the face, but you don’t need to see it to know he looks like a reaper coming to ferry your soul into the After.

“You will not!” roars Marvick as she bodily rams into the man, shoving him several feet away from you. He’s not even drawn his sword yet, until now. The ringing of steel sliding free rings above the cacophony of dragon screams and crumbling stone.

Before you can continue your scuttle toward the exit, the man—Shadowsword—lunges toward Marvick in a fury of whirling metal. She immediately goes on the defense as she meets him blow for blow. Her grunts of frustration and strain hit your ears as he backs her right into a wall with his advancement.

Shadows begin to coalesce around the room, bringing with them the distinct scent of clove, growing and pulsing as they fill all available space. “I’ve waited so long for this,” a deep, snarling voice proclaims as Marvick is forced to her knees, her sword held up to keep the other blade from cleaving into her shoulder.

“You’re a disgrace! I’d never betray the King!” Marvick grunts, shoving hard against his blade to send him back a step. She switches to press her attack, straightening to her full height and changing her stance in a fluid motion. His sword meets hers, sparks flying as they clash over and over.

A draconic roar shatters the air, and Shadowsword snarls in response. He shakes his head. “You should have listened to me. It didn’t have to be like this!” he bellows before the crunch of metal tangles with the wet shriek that pours from Marvick an instant before her body flops to the side, splattering a coppery tang of fluid all over you.

Your breaths are coming in shallow pants, and you can’t seem to move no matter how much you will your legs and arms to do so. Belatedly, you glance down, seeing the thick tendrils of shadow encasing your limbs. You blink up at the room, realizing the space's sudden lack of motion and fury.

“P-poli,” you whimper, choking back a sob. The strongest person you’ve ever met…decimated so quickly by this monster they call Shadowsword. Who is now so casually looking around the small space, even as the floor shifts further and more stones rain down from the walls. The only dragon remaining on the turret is his, the large black one with the golden eyes.

You try to swallow the panic bubbling in your throat. You’ve been trained for this very moment. The small blade tucked into the top of your boot calls your name. If you could only move your right hand a few inches, you could grasp it and do as you’ve always been instructed to when faced with such a situation. But, the shadows holding your arm refuse to budge no matter how hard you strain.

“A scribe, guessing by your garb,” the man who just destroyed everything says, calm in a way like he’s discussing the weather. “I guess between you and Goris, it’ll have to do. Hopefully, this wasn’t a waste.” He gives General Marvick’s body one last glance before stomping over, scooping you up, and throwing you over his shoulder.

You scream, emptying your lungs repeatedly as you struggle against the dark bands still holding you. Getting to the blade in your boot is paramount. He can’t take you. Rule number one for what you are—never be taken alive. Your fingers manage to graze the top of your boot just as you’re tossed onto the back of the giant dragon. The shadows keep your hands and feet bound, but you’re able to scrunch up, getting your fingers into the top of your boot. Triumph has a manic grin spreading across your face as the knife slides free, and you pinch it between your fingers.

“NO!” you scream as the tiny blade is plucked from your fingers.

“As if you could stick me with that tiny thing,” the man grumbles as he settles into the saddle seat, promptly dragging you face down across his lap and adding a thicker band of shadows across your back. There is no sense in trying to correct him that the blade was, in truth, meant for you. “Don’t squirm too much, unless you want to fall. We have a long flight and I might forget to maintain my shadows.” His tone says he could probably care less. You open your mouth to tot off some snarky reply when a thickness shoves between your lips, filling your mouth until you can only elicit muffled noises. “Enough screaming. I prefer flying in silence.”

Your stomach somersaults as the dragon beneath you launches into the sky. Your adrenaline wanes and nausea rolls in a moment later, sucking you in deep. Your eyes flutter behind your goggles as your consciousness ebbs. The last thing you see are twin spots of orange and grey ahead of you before it all fades to nothing.

🖤🖤🖤

You awake to meaty thwacks and pained grunts. Blinking slowly, the first thing you see are splatters of dark red covering the ground in front of you. The heavy, coppery tang of blood in the air makes your stomach knot. You throw your head to the side, dry heaving as your body protests. You can’t lean far, your body forcibly held in place by familiar shadows.

The room spins as you shake your head to try and dispel the double vision clouding your eyes. Your chest squeezes, your stomach threatening to heave again. The sickening crunch of bone draws your head up, your eyes finally focusing.

A pitiful whimper slips out as you watch Shadowsword rear back to throw another punch. Goris is tied to a tent pole, much the way you now realize you are, shadows banded around his chest and his arms, legs sprawled in front of him. His feet jerk, leaving ruts in the dirt as that fist meets his face in another brutal attack.

“Please!” you cry. “Please, stop!”

Those menacing brown eyes cut your way, his bloody fist suspended in the air, ready for the next hit. Goris groans, frothy red bubbling past his lips to dribble down his chin. You’re not sure how long he’s been enduring the assault, but it doesn’t look like he can take much more.

“I’ll stop when he gives me what I want,” Shadowsword informs you.

When he shifts his weight to throw the next punch, you can’t help crying out again. “You’re going to kill him!” That hand remains lofted in the air, the muscles along his arm visibly shaking with the effort to hold back. “If you kill him, you won’t get what you want. Please. Don’t.”

Shadowsword chuckles, letting out an airy breath. “I can’t say you’re wrong about that.” He crouches down in front of Goris, gripping his chin and turning his face from side to side. “You still with us, Rit?”

Goris coughs, spewing little drops of blood to rain down onto his leathers. “Fuck. You. Bastard. Where’s Ripley?”

“Bastard? Now, now, we both know I very much do have a father, unfortunately.” Shadowsword grimaces, releasing Goris’ chin to stand up. “As for your precious Ripley, she’s somewhere safe, behind shields, so don’t even think to try connecting with her to use your Signis. You’ll only cause yourself pain.”

The sigh of relief you let out when he steps away from Goris’ bloody form turns into a gasp when Shadowsword moves toward you. “Please,” you plead, cowering the best you can with the restraints. “Just kill me quickly, or let me go.”

He clearly ignores you. “You know, I’ve been trying to come up with a good reason why Marvick would choose to bring her field scribe to a war meeting when the Crown would have provided all the scribes needed.”

“Don’t you touch her,” Goris snarls, the words sounding wet as he coughs up another wave of blood.

Shadowsword’s brows rise in surprise. “Why would you care what I do to a scribe, Rit? I’ve never known you to care what happens to a common woman. You’ve trampled your fair amount of flowers.” He drops to one knee beside your sprawled legs. Warm wetness smears along your jaw as he caresses your face with the backs of his fingers. “Though, she is quite lovely. Perhaps you’ve taken a liking to how she warms your blankets. Is that it, Rit? Finally found some pussy you want to keep, and now you’re scared I will ruin your pretty little songbird?”

You shudder and jerk away from his touch. “What is it that you want?”

“I want what Krut promised me.”

“Krut?” you ask, dumbfounded. The memory of him standing in the turret, looking up at the sky with a smirk on his face, surfaces in your mind. “It can’t be. He wouldn’t betray—”

“That’s dragonshit. You and I both know he would,” Goris interrupts, grumbling at you from across the tent. As much as you don’t want to believe it, you know Ulgrin Krut was always more like his father than just in name. “So, tell me, Shadowsword,” he says, directing his attention from you to the man still crouched beside you, “what did that yellowbelly promise you?” He hocks a glob of bloody phlegm onto the ground, grimacing.

Shadowsword tsks softly. The gold of his helmet glints wickedly in the mage lights above as he tilts his head as if he’s just thought of something clever. “Why, Rit, old pal, have you grown addled in your old age? I told you what I want—what he promised me.”

The familiarity at which Shadowsword seems to keep referring to Goris has the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. They interact like they know one another as more than enemies across the battlefield. Dread fills your belly, sitting heavy like a chunk of glacier ice.

“I can’t give you what I don’t have.” You’d think Goris would be better at controlling his tells, but the brief flicker of his eyes to you might as well be a giant red signal.

Shadowsword looks between the two of you. “No, you can’t…but you seem to think she might.” He nods toward you. “Don’t you?”

Goris balks. “A simple field scribe? Nonsense.”

A dark chuckle fills the air. “Just as shitty at lying as you’ve always been, Rit. Truly something I’ve always admired about you. So honorable. Too bad it’s about to get this sweet little songbird into a lot of trouble.”

“I’ll tell you everything I can,” Goris offers, his voice hard as steel. “I know things that can help you. Just leave the girl be. She’s innocent and doesn’t deserve anything you’d do to her.”

Even though all you can see are his eyes, you know he’s far more interested in what Goris is trying to hide from him than what he’s now offering. “No, friend, I don’t think I will leave her alone. In fact,” he says, reaching around his back and pulling free the small blade he plucked from your fingers before, “I think I’ll have as much fun with her as I want.”

You press as far back against the pole you’re secured to as possible. If he was intent on just ending your life, you might not be so scared, but you know there’s so much more to it simply because he’s now suspicious.

“Shadowsword!” Goris barks. It does nothing to stop the blade from pressing against your neck.

“What are you hiding? There’s no way you’re just a simple scribe. It’s not adding up,” he mutters as if to himself. You flinch at the slightest prick of pain under your chin. “You bleed like a scribe.” He leans forward, inhaling the air in front of you deeply. “I don’t smell the stink of dragon magic on you.” The blunt side of the knife presses into the skin of your throat as he trails it down, over your scarf, and to the top of your wool tunic. “I wonder,” he whispers before quickly flicking the knife over and snicking through the ties holding your top together.

“Leave her alone, you disgraceful fuck! Come punch me some more if you need to terrorize someone.” Goris spouts off brazen attempts to draw Shadowsword’s attention. But, he might as well be nothing more than a buzzing fly.

“Please stop!” You struggle against the shadow bindings, frantic to get away from him before he—too late.

The front of your tunic falls open, revealing your true nature to him. He lets out a low whistle. “Oh, pretty bird, look at that.”

He’s leaning in so close you can see your reflection in the depths of his eyes. The light blue runes etched into your skin catch the overhead lights and shimmer like the ocean at midday. The whorls and points zig-zag across your chest, just under your collar bones, and spread down the valley between your breasts to flare out across the expanse of your ribcage.

You’ve never been ashamed of what you are. The issue is with everyone else. They think you’ll steal all their secrets, tell the world…but that’s not how it works, and they’d know that if they ever truly cared to find out.

But he’s not looking at you the way most people do. No, there’s something different about how his eyes rove over your chest. You don’t care about the nudity. The pebbling of your nipples and chills that pop up along your exposed skin has little to do with the blatant perusal of your skin.

It’s the hunger you see plain in his face that ignites a flare of warring feelings inside your chest and belly. You shouldn’t like how he looks at you, but it makes you feel powerful, potent because he’s not afraid. If anything, he’s enamored.

“Fucking hells,” Goris sighs, resigned.

“Fucking hells is right, Rit. Seems Ulgrin forgot to mention Poli was keeping a sweet little gem in her pocket. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Poli was ever the strategist.”

Shadowsword straightens to his full height, towering over you. He flicks the blunt edge of the blade under the flap of your tunic, affording you some modesty by covering you back up. The laces are ruined, but once the glittering blue runes are hidden, you seem to snap out of your reverent spell. Embarrassment floods your face, heating you from within.

“Now you’ve had your fun. What is it that you want?” you reiterate your earlier question that he never fully answered.

Your knife is slid back into a small sheath lost amongst the gold plates of his armor. “That’s simple, my little bird—or should I say, my little gem. Yes, that seems more fitting with those beautiful marks on your chest.” He chuckles. “To think, all this time, all I needed to end this farce of a war was to get my hands on General Marvick’s personal Psion.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit. “I’ll never give you anything.”

He does that head tilt again like he’s assessing you deeper than surface level. Like, somehow, he can see inside you. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re going to change the tides for me, little gem. I’ll know everything inside that head of yours before the mountain thaws and the flowers begin to bloom—that, I promise you.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that. Empty promises.” You hope he can see the determination and resolve in your eyes. Despite your earlier vulnerability and odd lapse in judgment as he laid you bare, you won’t give up your secrets easily. Being a Psion has both haunted you and given you tremendous power in life. The ability to remember everything you’ve ever heard, seen, or read…it’s no wonder most people fear you. You have enough information and knowledge to bring kingdoms to their knees…which, you realize, is something Shadowsword is counting on. “I’d never betray the King,” you state, repeating General Poli Marvick’s last words.

The man shifts his weight from foot to foot, the tent silent except for the crunch of dirt under his considerable form. The creak of his armor echoes in the small space as he brings his hands up and unclips his helmet before pulling it off. You stifle a gasp.

Shadowsword is so named because he’s described as a sword of the shadows. You thought it was simply because of his Signis being shadow manipulation. But, now you’re thinking it might have more to do with his inky black hair and angular face that seems to hug and kiss the shadows cast by the overhead lights. He’s breathtaking, and you can’t decide if it’s in a good way.

“My father? The King? Do you mean the king who has been deceiving his entire kingdom? The same king who kills—“

“Blasphemy!” Goris’ roar interrupts whatever Shadowsword is about to say. “Say it, and I’ll stick you through with your own sword, you lying, rebellious bastard!”

Those calculating eyes snap from you to Goris. “Idle threats, and we both know it, Rit. You couldn’t hurt a fly being trussed up like that. This isn’t our first time doing this dance, friend, do us both a favor and give it a rest,” he snarks, a smirk curling his full lips.

“Wait,” you whisper, his words finally registering. “Your father?” You knew the exiled prince led the rebel army, but you’d also heard Shadowsword was just his muscle, his attack dog. You wonder how many people know the truth, that they’re the same man.

You glance at Goris, and the resigned look on his face tells you that he, at least, knew the truth. Are you the only person that didn’t know? Confusion threatens to overwhelm you because if you got that wrong, what other falsities are filed away in that sacred space in your mind? But Shadowsword—Prince Jeon—draws your attention before the wave of panic can fully suck you in.

“I guess it seems there are things even you don’t know, little gem.” That reality cuts deep, slicing right to your marrow. “Tomorrow, the real fun begins. I suggest you both try to get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

And with that, he strides out of the tent in a flash of gold armor and shadows, taking your confidence and self-assurance with him. Whereas a moment ago, his eyes made you feel so potent—you now feel entirely and utterly…powerless.

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walker-bait-1973 · 8 months

Text

8 Years Part Three

Part Three of the ongoing series with Daryl Dixon x Sybil Tremont (OC) Fanfiction

Background information: It’s assumed the reader knows the world of TWD. This Fanfic takes place after Alexandria, Hilltop, Oceanside, and the Kingdom are established and at the height of success. Carl is dead. The communities are bound by a doctrine created by Michonne. Rick is presumed dead. Daryl and Michonne never lost hope and searched for several years for Rick without luck. Daryl had a short relationship with Leah. The Saviors disbanded with Negan in a jail cell in Alexandria. The Whisperers have been defeated, and Lydia is a valued member of the Hilltop homestead.

18+

Warnings: Typical TWD Themes, Swearing, Drugs, Angst, Slow Burn

Masterlist

Part Two

Chapter 15: Walls

Just when Sybil didn’t think Ryder could take much more, the three came upon a small town.

“Nearly there,” Daryl said after a night of quiet. Everyone including him was depleted. Ryder perked up and squeezed his mom’s hand.

“Hear that? Almost there!”

“That’s great,” she tried to muster enthusiasm and continued to look down at her feet, forcing one foot in front of the other. With every step, the job became more laborious, and she had to finally stop. Her wound was throbbing, and her body dragging. Dog barked to grab Daryl’s attention.

“Come on Mom… Daryl said we’re almost there… just a few more steps, please.” The boy looked desperately at Daryl who put Sybil’s arm over his shoulders and supported her encouraging her to keep going.

“C’mon girl… one more road. Look…” he pointed ahead. Sybil lifted her head with exertion and saw a tall metal wall in the distance.

“Walls,” she whispered.

“Just like I told ya.”

Sybil looked to her right, “Ryder… stay close.”

“I will,” he moved up and the three managed to make it to Alexandria’s gate.

Chapter 16: Open the Gate

From the guard tower landing, Michonne called down to Rosita, “Open the gate! It’s Daryl!”

Slowly the gate slid open. Rosita saw the strangers with Daryl and before she could ask he said, “Gotta get her t’ Siddiq. Ryder, c’mon…”

Rosita shut the gate while Father Gabriel supported Sybil on the other side until they arrived at the clinic. Siddiq opened the door when he heard Daryl yell.

“What’s going on?” Siddiq asked, “Lay her over here…”

Daryl swooped Sybil up onto the exam table while Daryl explained in not so many words what happened to her hip and how she was road worn. Siddiq drew the curtain, leaving Ryder alone. He pushed on the curtain, “Wait! That’s my mom!”

Daryl stepped from behind the curtain and knelt next to Ryder, “Doc needs privacy t’ look at that hip, ‘kay? Then y’ can see y’ Momma.”

Ryder nodded, “She’s gonna be okay right?”

Daryl nodded, “She’ll be fine. Jus’ like she told ya.” Daryl stood with Ryder while Siddiq worked. When he opened the curtain, Sybil was moved to a bed, covered from the waist down and an IV drip was in her arm.

“How is she?” Ryder asked anxiously, moving to her side. She smiled at him.

“She needed fluids, there’s not enough water in her body, and her cut is stitched up. Your Mom is going to be okay.” Siddiq smiled. Ryder held Sybil’s hand.

“You’re so brave,” Sybil remarked, “thank you for letting the doctor do his work.”

Ryder glanced in Daryl’s direction before Siddiq commented, “Can I look you over?”

“Please do,” Sybil insisted. Ryder sat down on a stool patiently, and Siddiq performed a quick exam. When he studied the boy, he paused and blinked twice before continuing.

“He’s dehydrated too… can I give him an IV?”

Sybil nodded.

“I’m going to put a little needle into your arm. It will be like a little pinch. Are you ready?”

Ryder stiffened his lower lip and nodded. Siddiq carefully inserted the catheter. Ryder winced, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. Sybil watched him proudly as he took it like a champ.

“Why don’t you go over there and sit next to your mom?” Siddiq offered as the boy looked around curiously. He dragged a chair over for him and Ryder plopped down onto it. Daryl gauged their confusion over the things around them. He knew they’d been out there a long time; he just wasn’t sure how much. Glancing out the window, he saw a crowd gathered of his closest friends and decided it was time to go out and explain everything.

“Be back,” he said to Sybil as he went outside, closing the door behind him.

The entire council was there: Michonne, Aaron, and Gabriel. Siddiq, however, stayed inside to look after his patients. Carol quickly joined them.

“Who are they and where did you find them?” Michonne asked before anyone else spoke.

Daryl paused before explaining, “Found ‘em in the woods. I knew her… ‘fore this world.”

Everyone gasped, “You knew her before?” Gabriel asked incredulously. Daryl nodded.

“And the boy?”

“He's her son. Sybil n’ Ryder.”

Siddiq came out to update the curious crowd, “They’re both doing fine, just gave them some fluids. They’ve been through a lot just by the looks of them and need some rest.”

The group talked some more before Carol said, “Alright. Daryl probably wants to get back to his friend. Let’s leave them alone for now. There will be plenty of time to meet them later.”

As everyone dispersed Daryl’s face reflected gratitude. Carol rubbed his shoulder.

“You look like hell.”

He shrugged, “’ll be fine. Gotta go back in.”

She nodded, “We’ll talk later.”

“Mhm.”

Chapter 17: The Clinic

Ryder sat with a worn notebook resting on his lap, writing something when Daryl walked back in. Siddiq was checking the patients’ statuses.

“What’s that?” He asked, slowing the drip in the boy’s arm.

“It’s a list… of the people I’ve lost. I write their names down and something about them, so I don’t forget. We lost two friends on the way here. Gertie and Stan. “

Siddiq felt sad for the boy. To be so young and lose so much. He kept his thoughts to himself though and went on about his business.

Daryl pulled up a chair next to the bed, “How y’ feelin’?”

Ryder shrugged, “I feel fine.”

“What ‘bout you, Syb?” He called her by her nickname, and she peered up at him, her eyes soft.

“I’m much better.”

Suddenly the clinic door opened. A woman with short grey hair and a kind face walked in carrying something folded in her hands.

“Hi… I don’t mean to barge in… I’m Carol,” she introduced herself to the two, “But I figured you might want something to put on.” She held out the pair of pants.

“Thank you,” Sybil replied, “thank you, Carol.”

“Sure. Welcome to Alexandria.”

Sybil smirked, “What a way to make an entrance, huh? Half dead and losing my britches.”

Carol winked, “It will get the town talking, that’s for sure. We’ve taken in people that look worse than you two.”

“I feel sorry for them! I am Sybil, and this is my son, Ryder.”

Ryder looked up from his notebook. Carol was stunned when she saw the boy’s face. Her eyes gravitated towards Daryl, and he lowered his.

“Well, Ryder… when you and your mom get around to it, you can stay at my place. I have plenty of room. And I’ll bake you some cookies.”

“Cookies?” Ryder looked at his mom, “Like we had in those old boxes?”

“You can bake cookies here?” Sybil asked astounded.

“Sure, we run on solar energy. There’s so much to show you. But all in good time. Ryder, these won’t be the stale cookies you’ve had out there.”

Once Carol left Sybil said to Daryl, “Did I see houses?”

“Mhm. This was a new project ‘fore the Walkers. A man designed them sheets and everyone built up them walls. We been expandin’ ever since. You’ll see. For now, rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Ryder insisted, but his eyes were drooping.

“C’mon, let's get ‘cha in the bed next to yer Mama.” Daryl said softly, “Y’all need some sleep. S’ok t’ sleep here. Yer both safe.” Daryl moved the bed closer to Sybil and the boy lay on top of the blanket. He held his backpack in his arms as he rolled to his side to face his mother. His eyes fluttered, he fought to keep them awake.

“Go to sleep, Ryder. We’re behind walls.” She touched his hair gently, rubbing the messy mop of dirty blonde hair away from his face. When she was convinced he was asleep, she rolled her head to face Daryl. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being safe, of being in a building that wasn’t surrounded by the dead.

“You should get some rest,” she said, concerned for Daryl’s well-being. There wasn’t a time she recalled him sleeping on their trek to Alexandria.

“I'm fine.” He wanted to say more. He had so many things on his mind to talk about with her. But now wasn’t the time. Let them rest. Find the right time. And then he hoped to know everything.

Daryl had searched everywhere for Sybil. He started with her friends. No one told him anything.

“Sybil wants to be left alone, Daryl,” Maria told him, “You screwed up. Big time.”

Daryl bit the inside of his lower lip, “It can’t be over.”

“It is,” Maria told him, “You just couldn’t be happy with the way things were, could you? You thought that damn drug money was more important than living a good life with the best woman you’ll ever find. She treated you like gold and you threw it all away.”

“You don’t know nothin’,” he said venomously.

“I know more than you think I do. You may as well forget about her. She’s gone.”

“Yeah?” His blue eyes reflected anger, “We’ll see ‘bout that.”

Daryl waited until the next day when school was in session to seek Sybil out. She was grading papers in the library while the kids were at recess. Once again, she was doing the work of the teachers along with her own.

Bleary eyed she looked up when he whispered her name.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, clearly upset. Daryl slid into the chair next to her.

“We gotta talk.”

“There’s nothing to say,” she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers in front of her. He caressed her wrist.

“Bullshit, there's a lot to say.”

“Shh!” The librarian hushed him.

Daryl held his breath for a moment, “Syb…”

She scooped up her papers and went into the hallway, “I don’t want to do this here.” She said as he followed her, “I had my say in the note. I’m done. All these years you’ve done so well. We had a life together. Things were really starting to move forward for us. But it just wasn’t enough for you, was it? It would never be enough. You’d always be thinking about the next deal that would make big money.”

“Syb I…”

“Go! Just go!” She exclaimed, drawing unwanted onlookers. She covered her face and ran into the girl’s bathroom.

Chapter 18: Carol’s House

Daryl was nearly asleep as soon as Sybil closed her eyes. He had his arm propped up on his knee, resting his chin in his palm. Sybil’s eyes cracked open, and as if in a haze she saw Daryl sitting close, sleeping.

“About time…” she murmured in between dreams.

“Push, Sybil, push!” her old roommate Maria was encouraging the woman to bear down and push the baby out of her womb. Theresa was watching nervously out the window as people screamed and went running pell-mell all through the campus yards trying to save themselves from the rising dead. People were being torn into pieces right outside the window to their dorm.

“What’s going on? Are we still safe?” Sybil asked between breaths.

Theresa shut the curtains, “Never mind that,” she said abruptly, “You concentrate on that baby!”

“Oh god!” Sybil felt the wave of the next contraction as she held the sides of her bed.

“That’s it, push, push!”

“I can’t do it anymore,” Sybil cried, tears streaming down her face.

“That’s not true,” Mandy said, standing by the locked door, “You can!”

Sybil gave the hardest push she could muster.

“That’s it! I see the head!” Maria cried out holding up the sheet to cradle the baby when it was finally out, “One last push!”

Sybil bore down, gritting her teeth, trying not to scream, her body shaking, determined to have that baby. Without warning Maria was catching the baby in the sheet and quickly turned the newborn onto its belly. She rubbed its little back until the fluid came from its lungs. The baby belted out a loud howl, crying.

“Oh my god… my baby…” Sybil was holding out her hands, “is everything okay?”

Maria smiled as their two other friends joined them smiling and laughing.

“It’s a boy!” Maria wrapped the baby and placed the little one up on her chest. She held him tight, looking him over, forgetting about the hell around them.

“He’s perfect… my god… he’s perfect. My little Ryder…”

When she woke, Daryl was sitting upright again. He seemed pleased that she was moving around.

“Where’s Ryder?” She asked but was relieved to see he was lying on his bed looking through a book.

“Look what Carol brought me!” He held it as if it was made of gold, “She said they have a library here! Remember that library we stayed at with Maria, Mitchell, and Theresa?”

She smiled sadly, “I remember. We couldn’t carry them with us at the time. You were so young; I’m surprised you do. How long have I been out?” She asked Daryl.

“Couple hours.”

“I’m ready to get up.” Daryl had the feeling that she wouldn’t be down long.

Siddiq nodded, “You look much better.”

“Well, that’s not saying much,” she groaned, sure what she looked like as if she’d crawled out of a hole in the ground.

“You’ll be able to get a shower up at Carol’s.”

“A shower?”

Siddiq nodded, “we have running water. It even gets hot, thanks to the solar panels.”

“This place sounds too good to be true,” she said.

“Oh, it’s real,” Siddiq said convincingly, “the only catch is everyone has to pull their weight.”

“That’s not a problem,” Sybil said, “I’d be more than happy to help out where needed.”

“I can work too,” Ryder piped in.

Siddiq laughed, “I’m sure you can.”

“C’mon let's give y’ Mama some privacy,” Daryl said, “We’ll wait outside f’ ya.”

Siddiq removed Ryder and Sybils IVs.

When Daryl and Ryder went outside, the first thing Ryder noticed was that Dog was waiting for them. He said, “I didn’t know what to call him, but I heard you callin’ him Dog.”

“Mhm… it's his name. Figured it’d be easy t’ remember.”

“Sure is,” the boy smiled, “I like him.”

“Seems t’ like ya too,” Daryl remarked as Dog licked Ryder’s face. He laughed, and Daryl liked the sound of it.

“What’s so funny?” Sybil asked, closing the clinic door behind her.

“Dog’s lickin’ my face,” he answered.

Sybil grinned gazing at Daryl before noticing the pond. She spotted two people sitting on a bench under a gazebo while children played in the grass. She shook her head, “This is going to take some getting used to. And you’re sure they don’t mind that we’re here?”

“Naw, y’ fine. I ain’t gonna let no one tell me otherwise.” He swallowed hard as she smiled lightly.

“C’mon, take y’all t’ Carol’s. Save the tour for ‘nother time.”

“You heard Daryl, let’s go,” she got her son’s attention as he stared at the children laughing. One little girl in a big, brimmed hat waved in their direction. Ryder slowly lifted his hand and waved back.

“’S Judith. Y’all gonna meet her later.”

On their way to Carol’s house, they passed the gardens where people were working to pluck the weeds, picking the ripe vegetables, and carrying baskets off to a building. Sybil’s and Ryder’s eyes flitted here and there trying to take everything in. To Sybil, it looked like a regular town she’d seen before the fall. To Ryder, everything looked shiny new. He’d never been somewhere that wasn’t old, dusty, falling apart, or ransacked. He hadn’t slept in a bed until the clinic. He’d never seen lights working to full capacity like the ones in the clinic either. He’d not seen very many other children. And he’d never walked in an area that wasn’t dangerous. There were so many things to see and experience, he was overwhelmed. He stopped walking for a moment.

“What is it?” Sybil asked. The boy bit on his thumbnail, “It’s so big…”

She bent down so she was at eye level with him, “I know it is. This is very new for you. But this is what the world looked like before out there. It’s going to be okay. Daryl wouldn’t bring us here if it wasn’t.”

“How do you know?” He asked.

“Because I know Daryl, remember?”

Ryder was curious but nodded silently, took his mother’s hand, and began to walk again. They were now two streets over from the clinic with large townhouses connected towering over them in a row.

“Woah…” Ryder exclaimed.

Daryl scratched the back of his head, “Yeah… had more houses, but had t’ rebuild a lot of times. Seven’s Carol’s.”

They walked up the steps and Daryl opened the door directly into a hallway. There were stairs to the left and to the right an archway into a living room area. There was furniture, some looked brand new, and many things matched. Sybil could smell baked goods and her stomach growled.

“What’s that smell?” Ryder asked, sniffing the air. He’d never had a truly decent meal.

“That’s cookies,” Carol said walking down the hallway, “I made them just for you and your mom.”

“What about Daryl and Dog? Can’t they have some?”

Carol grinned up at Daryl, “Well, I suppose so. Welcome to my house, young man. I want you both to feel comfortable here.”

“How many people live here?” Sybil wondered aloud.

“Just me… and Daryl. He lives in the basement apartment.”

Just two people in this huge townhouse?

“Let me show you around really quickly and then I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”

Carol took them through the house and as she took them upstairs, she said to Daryl, “I’ve got it. You can relax for a bit.”

Once they were gone, Daryl fell into the couch. It was the first time he could truly think about one thing without worrying about another.

…

“And here’s the bathroom.”

“Wow!” Ryder looked around. He went to touch the faucet but realized how dirty his hands were.

“It’s okay, things clean up, just like you,” Carol said kindly. Ryder looked at his mom.

“There are two rooms down here… and one in the attic.”

“What room are we in?” Ryder asked.

“Guess what? You get your own room.”

Ryder hesitated, “My own room?” He scratched the back of his head, “I’ve never been without my mom before.”

“She’ll be in this room,” she pointed, “just next door to you.”

“Are you sure we can stay here? We don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing, I swear,” Carol insisted, “I love company. For a while, I had a full house… I miss it. You’ll be doing me a favor, believe me.” She got into the linen closet and pulled out towels and washcloths.

“Why don’t you two get showers and clean up? When you’re done, I’ll have something ready for you to eat.”

Sybil touched Carol’s arm, “Thank you so, so much.”

“My pleasure. I put some clothes out on the beds for you two to choose from. See you downstairs.”

“You heard the lady… you first!” Sybil said, preparing a bath for her son.

He reached into the water and swished his hand around, “It’s warm!” He only knew cold water, quick wash-ups, and scrubbing when they had time.

“Yes, my sweet…” She said, “You remember shampoo, right?” She teased.

He rolled his eyes, “I remember shampoo.”

“Soap?”

“Mom, come on.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be just outside the door.”

“You can step a little further away. I think I can do this alone. I am eight you know.”

“This is going to be strange for me too, Ryder… we’ve never been apart.” She shut the door and once she heard him splashing in the tub, she took steps away and into the bedroom Carol offered to look at the clothes. Boy’s clothes; lightly worn, in excellent condition. He hadn’t had new clothes in months. She saw many things she’d love to see her son in but left it up to him and looked around. The bed was single. There were curtains and shades on the brightly lit windows. There was an empty bookshelf in the corner. She opened the closet and saw some more clothes hanging and went through the dresser looking at the empty drawers.

“Hey…”

She spun around when she heard Daryl. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Hey. This is… really something. I’ll never be able to thank you enough-”

“Y’ would a done it f’ me.”

“In a heartbeat.”

She licked her lips and rubbed her forehead, “I have a lot of explaining to do. I know that. I promise you; we’ll have that talk. But not just yet. I’m… feeling so out of place – still with you after these past few weeks. We’ve been avoiding issues, keeping silent… and just concentrating on survival.”

“Got some of my own things t’ explain too. I can wait as long as I have ta’.”

Suddenly, Ryder came running out of the bathroom, a towel held around his waist, water dripping all over the hardwood floor, “I’m done!”

Daryl smirked while Sybil brushed past him to her son, “You don’t go streaking through someone’s house!”

“I don’t have any clothes in there to put on.”

“Oh, right… go in that room and pick something out.”

When he closed the door behind him, he said, “Wow! A new shirt and pants! Mom, there’s one with stripes!”

Smiling up at Daryl she said, “Simple pleasures.”

“He like stripes?”

She nodded, “I’ve never let him wear them though. I was afraid it would make him stick out while we were moving around. You can wear that one, Ryder.”

“Can I really?”

“Yes, enjoy it. Lord knows he deserves it,” she said under her breath.

“Why don’t ‘cha get cleaned up? I can take him down t’ the kitchen. Carol’s cookies are waitin’.”

“Okay…” She hesitated.

“He’ll be fine, Syb. He ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

The bedroom door opened and before Sybil could say anything Daryl said, “C’mon… want them cookies?”

“Is it alright? Can I go?” He asked his mom, unsure.

She nodded, “Go with Daryl. I’ll be down when I’m all clean. I wouldn’t want to touch a cookie with dirty hands. Scoot!”

Ryder followed Daryl down the stairs. Sybil went into the bathroom and seeing a filthy ring around the tub sighed. She felt horrible for the conditions they’d had to live in. Unavoidable, but still… she wished she could’ve given him a better life. Maybe now things were going to change. Maybe they finally found a place to call home. She cleaned the tub with supplies she found under the sink and then got into the shower. Hot water! She relished the moments, suds in her hair, scrubbing the grime, shampooing several times before she could feel a clean scalp. She did the same with the soap, scrubbing every inch. Feeling lighter, and human again, she turned off the water and grabbed for her towel. Carol had left other things by the sink; two toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a comb. Sybil set to work on the knots in her hair. This was going to take a while. She smelled the clean clothes… so soft and comfortable. She looked at herself in the bureau mirror. Her hair was past her shoulders, she’d lost weight from being on the run, and lack of consistent food. She sat down on the edge of the bed for a moment to try to catch her breath. Everything was happening so fast. The smell of food finally got her moving, and she went downstairs.

She heard Ryder laughing and as she entered the kitchen she had to laugh. He had chocolate smeared on his face, and a cookie in each fist.

“These are so good,” he said between bites. Sybil looked at Carol apologetically.

She shrugged, “it’s nice to have that enthusiasm around. How about some milk?”

Sybil had never given him any milk since he was a baby breastfeeding.

“How do you have milk?”

“One of our other communities has cows. We get milk. We pasteurize right on our stoves.”

Sybil watched her open the fridge.

“I’d like some milk to try,” Ryder interjected.

“A working fridge…” Sybil was mystified.

“Alright…” Carol poured him a glass, and he took a sip, barely hesitated, and drank the rest of it in large gulps.

“Oh, I’m so pleased you like it,” Carol responded, “it’s good for you.”

“It will help your bones and teeth,” Sybil felt as if she would cry. All the things he’d missed out on. She was going to have to ask Siddiq to check him over better.

“How about you, Sybil… what can I get for you? I’ve just made some sandwiches. Ryder ate two before he dug into the cookies.”

“I’d love a sandwich, that sounds amazing. Where’s Daryl?”

“He went down to his apartment. He’ll be back up in a bit. Have a seat.” Sybil sat down at the dining room table and Carol set a glass of milk in front of her.

“Looks like you could use this too.”

Sybil realized she was eating like a pig and covered her mouth, “I’m sorry,” she said between bites, “I’m being rude.”

“No,” Carol said sitting next to her, “you’re doing exactly what all of us have done at one time or another. I know what it’s like to be starving.” She patted her hand.

“This is delicious…” Chicken, tomato, and lettuce.

“That other community, called Hilltop, is more of a homestead than here. There are working farms. They raise cattle, chickens, and pigs. They tame and breed horses-”

“Horses?” Ryder wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “I’ve never seen a real horse. Only the ones in books.”

“We have some here too.” Carol added, “Maybe once you’re settled, we can take a walk on down and see them.”

“Can we Mom?”

Sybil laughed as she took another sandwich that Carol offered her, “One thing at a time, Ryder. There’s a lot to see, and a lot to get used to. Remember what Dr. Siddiq said?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “We need to take it easy for today. He wants to check us tomorrow.”

“Right. I promise we’ll see anything they want to show us, so just give me today to rest. Sound fair?”

“You don’t make promises.”

“You’re right because I don’t usually know what’s going to happen. Nothing is usually certain. But this is something that is going to happen. So, I promise you.” She finished drinking her milk and said to Carol, “That was fantastic. I haven’t had chicken since… before the fall.”

“You’re in for a treat then, we are having roasted chicken tonight. Hilltop will be bringing beef and pork tomorrow.”

“I’m so grateful.”

“Me too.” He added.

… Downstairs, Daryl peeled off his mud-caked clothing and dropped them on the floor. He looked over at Dog who had jumped on the bed and rolled around in the blankets. Daryl tutted, “Carol ain’t gonna like the mess yer makin’.”

Dog exposed his belly in submission. Daryl grunted, “Damn you.” He rubbed his belly and said, “Gotta get cleaned up.” He went into his bathroom and started the shower water. While he waited for it to get nice and hot, he glanced into the mirror. He looked like shit. No wonder Sybil didn’t recognize him.

Sybil.

Ryder.

He shook out his wet hair wondering when they were going to talk, and what he’d say. He thought about how he felt, and those feelings just swirled together anger, frustration, confusion, and loss. On the other hand, he was truly grateful that he’d crossed paths with Sybil again. She was alive and safe. He wondered how much she’d changed. He knew he’d done a lot of changing himself. Would there be a way to fix things between them, did he want that? What about her? Would she want to fix what went wrong between them? Could it be resolved? And the child. The boy with his blue eyes. He knew he was his son. Yet, he needed to hear it from her own lips.

He finished up and changed into some clean clothes, black as usual, and headed upstairs. Dog dodged out from behind him, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“Damn Dog,” he uttered and paused in the hallway. He heard Ryder laughing and calling Dog while Sybil was asking Carol questions about Alexandria.

He cleared his throat before entering.

“Feel better?” Carol asked. Daryl wasn’t prepared for Sybil to look as she did. Her hair was shiny and curly, with her large eyes turned toward him. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered, but she’d lost some weight. A shy smile crossed her full lips.

“Uh… yeah…” Daryl answered. Little did he know that Sybil was curiously gazing at him too. His hair was much longer than it looked all packed with dirt. It lay in waves on his well-defined shoulders. He was more muscular than he’d been, his arms pressing tight against the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Her eyes drifted upwards. Those intense blue eyes locked in on hers.

“We were just talking a little bit about Alexandria.” Carol picked up the empty plates from the table and set a sandwich down for Daryl. He walked over and picked half of it up.

“Did y’ get ‘nough to eat?”

Sybil nodded.

“How ‘bout you?” He turned to Ryder.

Ryder rubbed his belly, “I’m stuffed!”

“You should be! He ate two sandwiches, and I don’t know how many cookies.” Carol smiled proudly.

“Only four,” Ryder answered blushing.“That ain’t too bad,” Daryl remarked, “I could eat ‘bout a dozen of ‘em.”

Stay Tuned for Part Four

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon

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lost-between-letters · 2 years

Note

Hey friend 😁

Congrats on 300 followers! You definitely deserve it!

Could I have a Sam Winchester headcanon with him dating a short girl, like 5'2?

Thank you girlie! 😘

Hello! Thank youu

Of course you can Sweetheart! Here they are, I hope they're okay<3

Join the celebration here

Sam dating a short girl

listen, Sam knows that he's a big dude

so when you first started dating, he had the irrational fear of breaking you

roll over you in his sleep while he was having nightmares or something of the like

well, Sam you haven't met a short girl then

we climb wobbly chairs, counters, ladders, a wobbly board over two stools (...) just to get a cup

so dear Sam soon learned that while you were short, you were not the least bit fragile

counter make out sessions become his favourite kitchen activities

it gives you both a comfortable distance without any back pain

(well at least not for you two - Dean frequently complains about the things he walks in on, but hey, it wasn't like he and Cas were any better)

just because your boyfriend is a giant of a man, you don't stop climbing things to get what you want though

much to the chagrin of said boyfriend

"why didn't you just ask me to help you?" "Because it works just fine like this?" "I caught you just in time!"

the fight that followed this exchange was epic

bottom line: Sam arranged himself with you climbing furniture but stays close

his arm is almost always around your shoulder

whenever you wear high heels, Sam makes sure to stay close if the situation allows it

he likes to keep a hand on your back then

because of that one time you fell straight on the nose after taking half a step and he was across the room

you think it's sweet

it drives him crazy to see you wearing his clothes because they're so big on you - the way a simple shirt slips from your shoulder? Or you all sleepy and smiling in the morning when you wore one of his old t-shirts to bed? Sam is dead and gone

Table kisses!!!

Bonus:

Dean likes to pick you up randomly and throw you at Sam when he thinks his brother is in a bad mood

You scowl and complain that you're not a ragdoll but secretly you find it really funny

Also Sam always lights up like a f*king lighthouse when you're suddenly in his lap

Then you proceed to be 'gross' to get rid of Dean

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam x you #sam winchester headcanons #supernatural headcanons #spn headcanons #300 follower celebration

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quinloki · 10 months

Text

Birthday Request Event

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader: cisfem!reader Character: Shiryu Kink: #3 Spanking Prompt: #12 "No Panties" Gift Giver: @theluckychemist

Summary: You greet Shiryu upon his return to the island. Unfortunately, your short skirt and wide smile are appreciated by more pirates than just you intended target.

Content Notes: punishment, vaginal fingering, degrading pet names, spanking (duh), someone's the boss in this relationship and it ain't the reader, size difference, possible age difference

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

You stumbled a few steps into the room as Shiryu shoved you inside. Your heels clicked loudly against the stone floor, the room turning dim as he shut the door.

Gathering yourself you straighten up and turn toward him, taking a step back even though he didn’t move toward you. You tug absently at the skirt you’re wearing, he’s already grumbled about it being too short, and you’re pretty sure he’s a little angry since you greeted him in it – much to the pleasure of Teach who couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” He questions evenly. He towers over you. Everyone on this crew did, but Shiryu was the only one who loomed on purpose. He hasn’t even stepped toward you, but you can almost feel him drawing closer.

“I… I should’ve waited in here.” You admit, heart pounding in your chest. “This outfit was… just for you.” You take a step back.

You’re not truly afraid of him, but he is intimidating. Shiryu has done nothing but protect you and please you since you accepted his advances some months ago. With the Blackbeard pirates taking over the town, being under his wing made things easier. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, but fighting back pirates when you were trying to work was exhausting.

He steps forward, going over to a comfortable leather chair that was designed for someone of his height. After he settles in, taking off his hat and coat, he seats himself and pats his leg.

You move toward him at the beckoning gesture cautiously.

“Over my knee.” He says simply. Sternly.

You swallow hard, feeling your throat go dry, but you don’t argue, and just nod. You have to step onto a stool to be high enough to do so comfortably, but there was plenty in the room to accommodate the height difference between the two of you.

You put your hips over his knee, chest against his other leg, holding on as your body shivered in anticipation. It wasn’t fear, he wasn’t nearly angry enough to do anything to leave you afraid, but you knew a detail he wasn’t aware of yet.

“Such an obedient girl.” He muses. “I’ll give you credit where it’s due. You owned up and quickly corrected your mistake and didn’t argue about this punishment.” His hand on the back of your leg makes you flinch.

He hums. “No need to fear, I won’t – Oh?” His hand had slid up your thigh and to the curve of your ass, pushing the short skirt up and over your hips. “No panties.” His hand rubs your bare ass cheek and you hold onto his other leg as you start to shiver.

His tone, and his touch, have you on edge. You don’t know yet if he’s pleased or angrier than he was before.

“Shiryu…” You nearly whimper. “Please, I meant it as… as a surprise.”

“… Around all those other men.” He growls, palm rubbing your ass in a slow circle.

You shake your head. “I wasn’t th-thinking! I just want-wanted to see you! I’m sorry!”

“You’ll certainly think better in the future.” He assures you, hand leaving you for a moment before it lands sharply on your ass.

The sting pulls a strangled sound from you before you gasp to catch your breath. You know the drill with this sort of thing, however, so quickly as you can you cry out.

“One, Sir!”

The second one lands sharp and heavy and you count it out. The weight of some of the smacks are pushing you into his thigh, but you’re aware that he could shatter you if he choose to. As it was, the sharp leading sting quickly sank into something pleasurable.

The fourth smack carried the sting of the one before it, and you knew your cheeks were already turning red. The problem was that the fifth smack raised you up enough your legs came together, and you could feel your own arousal slipping down your thighs.

“S-Six! Haaa ♥ Sir!” You cry out, nearly moaning in pleasure.

Shiryu’s finger slides between your thighs, causing you to grip his pant leg and buck, squirming against the finger that’s teasing your entire slit so easily. He rubs your leaking lips a few times as you shiver and squirm from the sensation.

“My little whore is enjoying her punishment it seems.” He says in a voice dangerous but amused. He pulls his finger away. “Very well, if you cum before this is done, then I’ll have you gagging on my cock and locked up in a chastity belt for a week.”

You grip his leg a little tighter and do your best to concentrate. His threat isn’t nearly as much of a threat as he might think it is, but you also don’t want to test if he’d keep you in a chastity belt for a whole week.

The seventh strike rattles you to your core, and you nearly forget to count. You rush the words out just before the next strike lands, and swear before you cry out the number. Shiryu rubs your tender ass for a moment, and the sensation sends pleasure rippling through you.

Along with the understanding that he’s not going to make it too easy for you to survive this punishment without feeling the full weight of his promised threat.

The ninth strike was almost a failure for you. Just as you were trying to call out the count he pushed his finger into your dripping pussy and you practically cried out from it. The heavy, wet, squelching sounds made your whole body shiver for a moment before you managed to nearly growl the count out from between grit teeth.

When he pulled his finger out you almost sighed in relief, even as he smeared it clean against your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, (Y/N).” He praises. “Don’t count anymore, just endure it.”

The first smack was heavy, just like the nine before it. After that there was less weight to the smacks, instead they were snappy. The sharp pain had no weight behind it, but the stinging sensation turned pleasurable faster. They were almost love taps, and you could barely control the building pleasure even against the hot sting of the rapid spankings.

Some part of you wanted to squirm away, but just as you were sure you couldn’t take any more the assault stops. Your skin is hot, and tingling, and the soft cool air is almost too much to bear, as though it wishes to bring you over the edge itself.

“Cum for me, little one.” He demands, finger sliding back inside you, the heel of his hand caressing your sensitive ass as he works.

It only takes a moment and you do as commanded, clutching onto his leg, moaning your pleasure into the air as your legs and body twitch beyond your control.

Check out the event - requests are accepted until 7/31/2023 EST

#birthday request event #one piece drabble #x reader #reader insert #shiryu one piece #blackbeard pirates one piece #This was something different to write. I didn't really have any head space for Shiryu prior #but I hope I did it justice - thank you Lucky Chemist for the gift ♥

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 2 years

Note

Eddie trying to hide his very obvious boner in the middle of class and POC reader decides to do something about it ? 👀

The hoes gon' love this. Thanks for the idea!

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader. Black Reader described. Reader is 18.

CW: 18+ Content (Smut Adjacent)

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

__________________________

While you weren't one to be late, you were one to always try your best to be a helping hand. Halfway through lunch, you walked one of your friends to the nurse's office. She'd been complaining for the last half an hour about her stomach hurting and it wasn't until she sat down that you saw the flash of panic over her face. She asked to borrow your jacket to tie around her waist and you easily gave it up. Though you did definitely try to keep an eye for the seat she'd just exited.

The excursion to the nurse's office took longer than you originally intended, but you didn't mind it as the nurse scratched down a late pass. Which landed you here, walking into Chemistry a few minutes late.

Mr. Clarkson takes the pass, seemingly satisfied by the signature on the bottom. "Table in the back, you're with Munson."

Eddie catches the sound of his name and looks up from the set of instructions copied over from the handwritten set. You stand, right off the side of the bench in the front of class, not a single set podium but clearly for Mr. Clarkson to show the class how to run the experiments.

He watches you, the gray t-shirt covering the expanse of your chest. It's not what he saw you in earlier. He distinctly remembers a green top because he liked the way it set against your deep brown skin. But he tries not to stare. It's sort of ridiculous that he remembers what you were wearing at the start of the day. You start to turn, scanning the room to locate him so he turns his attention back to the instructions. Eddie wishes at that moment he didn't have to tie his hair back for the lab today.

From the periphery of his vision, Eddie watches as you approach, sneakers squeaking just a little as you turn to slide onto the stool. Eddie looks up then, giving a small tight lipped smile. "Hey," he offers.

"Sorry I'm late," you return, grabbing the safety glasses off the desk and scanning through the instructions.

"I haven't burned anything down just yet so I think it's safe to say you're right on time," Eddie teases.

"Oh, c'mon, who doesn't love a little arson," you laugh, looking up to Eddie. His laughter sounds short and you realize his gaze is lingering on you longer than you anticipated. The cool on your arms reminds you that you don't have anything to cover your arms. "One second," you say, patting Eddie on the arm and then half jogging to Mr. Clarkson's desk.

Eddie closes his eyes as you go, trying to keep his mind on the lab, and not the way your hand felt warm against his forearm. It was a soft squeeze--one that reads friendly, but Eddie hates how much it sends a tingle down his spine. You approach not too long after, threading your arms into the sleeves of a lab coat.

You don't even bother slipping back onto the stool. You move it to the end of the bench and lean into the table. "How far have you gotten?" you ask, peering over Eddie's shoulder.

You're not even that close. But Eddie can still catch the heat radiating off you and he shifts a little in the chair, trying not to imagine how it might feel for you to completely press into the back of him. Eddie points to the step he's on, measuring out milligrams for the solution. He got through the first three or four steps before you arrived by himself.

"I'll do it."

It's a simple offer and you reach right beside him to the dish that's been set out for you two. "I-I'lll get the bunson burner set," Eddie offers weakly, slipping a hand down from the table over his crotch. Now was not the time to have a boner. But Eddie is too fucking weak to really stop it.

He's thankful as he sets the heat just right that you haven't seemingly noticed. Eddie stays on his stool, trying to push his lap as far under the bench as he can get it. But when you measure out the powder and go to add it to the solution Eddie's already started you run one hand across his shoulders and Eddie bites his lips.

He should think about dead puppies. Or dead cats. Or how he got picked on in the third grade and his favorite sneakers got ruined because Carver pushed him into the mud while they waited for. the bus. Eddie should think literally about anything else, but he keeps his mind lingering on the feeling of your fingers over his shoulder and he hates himself for it.

"How long do we stir?" you ask, the glass clinking just a little as you work.

"Thirty-thirty seconds."

"You doing alright over there, Munson?" you laugh. The glass clinks, clinks, clinks and Eddie counts the seconds. Before he can reply you slide the solution his way to add the heat and then there's one last chemical you have to add. Your press against his shoulder and bicep, one hand creeping up onto his thigh and then slithering closer and closer to his erection. "Because if you ask me, you look pale? Don't tell me I'm going to be making a second trip to the nurses off today."

Eddie can't fully swallow down the whimper when your hand squeezes at him. He has just enough sense to look up. No one else seems to be watching and he taps for the last dish, right in front of it. You slide it his way, grinning as the liquid turns purple and fizzes a little.

"Looks perfect you too," Mr. Clarkson notes as he slides up to the fron to the bench.

Eddie takes in a giant inhale, praying that he does not look down under the table, lest he catch sight of your palm pressed against Eddie's crotch.

"Easy to get great results with a great lab partner and easy instructions," you beam.

Mr. Clarkson laughs, wagging a finger at you. "Certainly a smooth talker. Since this all set, you two can get a head start on the balance equations review sheet."

"Sounds good. We'll clean this up for you," you offer watching Mr. Clarkson reaching forward for your trays. "You're already done so early," you shrug.

"You can use the sink in the back," Mr. Clarkson states, giving explicit instructions on how to handle the chemicals. You nod, palm slipping just a little down but the pressure is still firm. Eddie focus on his breathe, fingers digging now into the meat of his thighs.

Please God, Eddie pleads. Just walk away.

Mr. Clarkson walks away a few seconds later and Eddie exhales, shakily. You snort and lean into Eddie's ear. "Gonna cream your pants right here? In the middle of class?"

"Why-why are you even doing this?" Eddie hisses out, getting the burner off.

"You're weak and a little pathetic as how much you tried not to get hard with my touching and I think just as weak you are, I'm weak too. Couldn't help myself."

You and Eddie flirted--in hallways, across the cafeteria. It was all really a game. You had an energy that could match his. But Eddie didn't actually think it would go anywhere. It never did. He was the town freak. No one really wanted to openly be with him. He'd been asked on nights after he performed at The Hideout for quickies or managed during the heavy end of 7 minutes of heaven and truth or dare to cop a feel or get a kiss, but Eddie wasn't anyone's type. He was a fun story, a side quest, but never the main adventure.

"Who put you up to this?" Eddie asks, hand wrapping around your wrist. "You can tell them whatever story you need. Don't pity me."

"It's--" you pull away, body and hand. Eddie reluctantly lets your fingers fall from his. "No one put me up to this?"

Eddie's hum says otherwise to your protest. And though he's still hard he takes a quick second to get resituated. "That's what they all say."

"Why did you flirt back? If you're going to say it was a prank?"

"Because everyone needs their story right? It's a fun story," Eddie huffs, taking the dishes to the back sink.

You look around and notice most of the class is still buried in their labs, so you slip stalk over to Eddie. "I like you, dipshit. In case you couldn't tell. We are literally in the middle of class. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

Eddie's scoff is bitter on his tongue, but his heart thunders in his chest. You like him? What god had smiled on him? And what devil was trying to play a trick? "You like me?" It comes out covered in sacrasm.

You take his wrist and still him. "Look at me." You don't speak again until Eddie's staring at you from behind the goggles. "I like you. A lot. It's why I flirted back. It's why I'd actually like to take you out, if you're okay with it. Dinner and a movie? I'll pick you up at 7."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? You're asking me on a date?"

"As sure as I am Black right now. Friday night?"

Friday, friday--"I run the Dungeons and Dragons club on Friday nights. Sessions can be sort of long."

You nod, hand slipping from his wrist. "What about--"

Eddie interrupts the question, but taking your fingers through his. "I can do Thursday."

"Thursday," you agree.

"And I like to properly wined and dined," he teases.

"So I can't offer that you go to the bathroom first and then I go after you by like three minutes?" you laugh.

"Oh," Eddie grins. "You absolutely can. But it's going to cost you an icee at the theater."

"Sounds worth it."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x black reader #eddie munson x reader #h writes #stranger things #boomhauer

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mirasantidotes · 1 year

Text

It Ends With You - Chapter 1, "Rough Edges"

(GIFs not mine)

Summary: After Joel and Ellie land in Jackson, Wyoming, Joel spends his first day exploring the town. He finally ends his first night in a bar where you're playing your guitar on stage, and you catch his attention.

Character Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!oc (Vanessa)

Content Warnings: soft!joel, nothing bad ever happens at tommy's, eventual established relationship, hella slow burn, ellie making fun of joel for being old as shit, mentions of alcohol/getting tipsy, oc is referred to as you, mentions of stress/anxiety, mentions of being stabbed, oc's appearance (hair) is described but race isn't mentioned. (let me know if I missed anything!)

WC: 1.1K

A/N: sorry this is so short loves, the other chapters are gonna be two to three times as long! I'm not even sure that I like how this chapter turned out tbh, but I hope you all like it anyways <3

Divider by: saradika

It was blistering— the sweaty clothes clung to Joel's body in the summer's heat, making him feel even more depleted. The humid air made it hard to breathe, but that didn't stop the exhausted man from running right up to Tommy and giving him the biggest hug he could manage after arriving in Jackson, Wyoming. Dogs had almost just mauled Ellie, and Joel had nearly lost the only person who had been able to fill that pain that's lingered in his heart for so many years. He was emotionally and physically exhausted.

After finally getting some much-needed food in Ellie and Joel's systems, they both went to clean up— God knows they needed it. For days, Ellie has been pestering Joel to take a shower, and she finally got her wish. Joel walked down the stairs of their newly assigned Jackson home. Ellie caught him off guard, as she had finished getting freshened up first, “Well, don't you look pretty?

“Shut up,” Joel replies sternly, glaring the girl down as he lightly adjusts his new shirt, which seems a tad too small to fit his broad figure, before crossing his arms against his chest. “I'm thinkin' of walking around town for a bit, just to scope the place out, y'know?” he says, looking out the window into the bustling town. “Wanna come with?” he asks, shifting his gaze to Ellie again.

“Nah, I'll pass, old man. I'm gonna go to sleep,” Ellie replies, standing up from her chair before stretching her arms in the air and letting out a yawn.

“Suit yourself then,” he mutters as he looks back out the window, “see you later, kid,” he says as he turns towards the door to walk out.

He could hear Ellie wander upstairs before closing the front door behind him, facing the swarming nature of the town he'd finally found Tommy in. He was still wary of living in a town like this, but he knew it'd be a good thing for both him and Ellie— to be able to live a decently normal life; and hey, maybe Joel could finally get that sheep farm he's been talking so much about to Ellie.

After several hours of just poking in and out of buildings and talking to a few different people who walked the tight roads of Jackson, it turned evening, and the atmosphere was chilly and quiet. The summer's heat had finally retired for the day, and the moon took its turn lightly illuminating the town's buildings.

Joel landed his eyes on one of the only buildings still bustling with people— a late-night bar. He heard the soft sounds of bottles clinking and music playing as he entered the building. He couldn't help but feel out of place; all of these people knew each other, and he knew virtually nobody.

The bartender saw Joel standing there like a lost puppy, snapping him out of his weird trance, “Hey there, what can I get 'cha?” she asked politely as she wiped down the counter with a rag. Joel looks at the woman before walking a few steps towards one of the stools and sitting himself down.

“Just some whiskey,” Joel replies, resting his elbows on the counter and intertwining his fingers. The bartender nods as she reaches under the bar to get a glass and a bottle of whiskey before pouring it.

Several drinks later, Joel's furrowed brows and his shoulders untense— all the weight he'd been carrying the last couple of months finally lifting from his body as the warm liquid flowed throughout his veins. Joel's attention shifts to the environment around him; he's no longer focused on the fact that he almost lost Ellie or nearly died from a stab wound a few weeks back. He was finally able to rest his mind in the bar's atmosphere.

The familiar sound of a song he hadn't heard since before the apocalypse caught his attention. He shifts his gaze to the right of him, looking onto the stage— his eyes land on a woman with dark shoulder-length hair singing into a microphone as she holds a red guitar with a white pickguard. This woman was you; you had managed to get your hands on a guitar on one of your runs with the crew in Jackson, and you were able to convince Tommy to let you play on the bar's stage a couple of nights a week with a few of your friends that you've known for a few years now.

After playing at the bar a few times, Tommy had brought back a few different instruments and asked if you'd be willing to teach some of the kids in Jackson how to play them. You agreed immediately— you've been in love with music since you were a child when your father taught you how to play the guitar for the first time, and you wanted that same experience for the kids living in the town you and your friends found several months back that you all now reside in.

Joel couldn't deny he found you beautiful— the way your hair would fall lightly into your face as you would take small pauses to play your guitar before focusing back on the words of the song you were singing. Not to mention how your fingers seamlessly glided across the neck of the guitar as you played the chords, letting your body melt into the song's mood as you interacted with the few friends you had on stage, playing right along with you.

Tommy sitting on the stool next to Joel’s as he gave him a light tap on the shoulder startled him, to say the least— “Hey man, you enjoyin' yourself so far?”

“Yeah, seems like a nice place you got here, Tommy,” Joel replies, shifting his gaze to his brother before looking back at you, still on stage, now playing a different song than before.

Tommy's gaze follows Joels, landing on you. “That's Ness,” he says, giving a slight nod in your direction before looking back at Joel, who meets his gaze halfway. “You should go talk to her, man.”

“Yeah?” Joel mumbles before taking the last sip of whiskey in his glass and setting it back down. The whiskey made him even more tired than he was when he arrived in Jackson that morning. He felt far too exhausted to try and talk to you now. He told himself he would talk to you the following day; surely he'd run into you, right?

“Best be careful though, she's got some rough edges on her, but she's real nice once you get t'know her.”

Joel nods at Tommy's warning, and after saying his goodnights to Tommy and giving him a pat on the back, he walks out of the bar and heads back to the place he'd now have to practice calling home with the intent to talk to you the next day.

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feastofcadavers · 6 months

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“Vampire. You can’t be sleeping on my work notes every time you finish eating!” The bitter voice of Alchemist made Vampire grimace as it covered up the sound of peaceful violin music being played over a nearby radio. He’d yawn, picking himself up from the spot that would be too small for him if he hadn’t stuck to bat form. He wouldn’t budge, instead rolling away from his sibling before being picked up and getting multiple squeaks out of him as he flailed around. “Get off! I’m trying to fix the both of us here!” Even if it was a bit harsh, Alch at least had the courtesy not to throw Vampire at the wall, and rather just dropped him on the floor. The red-headed sibling would groan, shifting out of bat form to shake off the fall.

“Sis… you’re so stressed over this… We’re gonna eat people still even if you do find something to fix this…” Vamp would sigh, flopping over to lay on the floor. “Besides, you’re gonna get in trouble… Y’know how that bastard loves overly excessive punishments…” Even with his warnings, and the warnings of the head of the manor, Alchemist would continue fussing about with research papers and whatever ingredients she could find from the outside. Tattered wings flittering with irritation, the shorter of the siblings would take care not to step on Vamp as she walked by to her cauldron. “This is about more than us.” She’d snip, taking a stepping stool up to get over the top of one of the only things she took with her. “There’s only two of us, and how many are out there? Approximately fifty or so?” Vamp thought there was a lot more, but it’s not like he’d count. “At an exponential rate of growth, this world will be eaten away at in mere decades!”

“A decade… Isn’t that a long time…?” The redhead would smile like a doofus when his sister looked back at him with scorn. “I’m just sayin’, I’d rather have someone else do what you’re doin’. There’s that Aloe person, maybe they could do it?”

“They are busy with their own difficulties.” Alch retorted, “If no one else can do it, I will. I don’t care if it risks my life if it means others don’t have to deal with the bullshit we do.” The swear made Vampire perk up, giving a small laugh, “Lil sis, you’re not supposed to say bad words!” “I’m in my twenties, batty, shut up.” “Fine, fiiiine…”

…

Vampire would sigh, looking over to the very radio he had listened to what felt to be forever ago. Batteries were dead, unable to make another peep. He remembers the music too clearly, it being one of Mint’s many songs being played at the time. He would be lying if he said that the music didn’t hold a special place in his heart for both him and his sister… Though that didn’t matter too much now. There wouldn’t be any more music from Mint considering the physical state he was in.

The drunkard took in a deep breath, exhaling as he laid back on the bed he’d been contemplatively staring at for who knows how long. Though as an irritating interruption to the relaxation he just started, there was a stir from across the room. Gaze falling to the singular chair of the room, Caramel was slowly coming to. Unfortunate, he was kind of hoping that he wouldn’t have to actually take care of anyone.

Picking himself up and striding over, Vamp would give the weak one a pat on the cheek. “Heeeeey buddy, wake uuup.” Thankfully, the groan that the drunk received was a good enough response to prove he was alive and fine. “Where-...” The white-haired individual would slur, unable to fully see or process anything around him. “Huh…” “Don’t worry tooooo much about what’s goin’ on, alriiiight?” Vamp would smile, trying to be at least a little polite. “Jus’ keeeeep resting, and I’m suuuure you’ll be fiiiine…” Even so, Vampire would be asked questions. Where are they? Who is he? Who am I? These would go answered, but barely. Short, few-word answers for the sake of brevity. Besides, there was something else on Vampire’s mind that kept him distracted.

“I don’t feeeel… all that hungry…” He’d murmur to himself, ignoring the confused look Caramel gave him. Indeed, his stomach didn’t feel as empty as it normally would. The cravings that normally were in the back of his mind were dulled. He felt… lighter, in a way. Did those two truly do it…? That lightness in his body quickly became tense. Something didn’t sit right about this.

Furrowing his brow, the drunkard took Caramel by the shoulders and slung him over his shoulders. The squeal and surprise that came from the apparent amnesiac was ignored as Vampire would practically run out of the room. “Where are we going?!” Cara would yelp, only to get the unsatisfactory answer of: “Somewhere verrrrry important. I neeeeed to check on someone suuuuuper important.”

…

They’re not here.

Where are they?

Vampire searched with an uncharacteristically tireless energy through the room that smelt even more like rotten flesh and blood than usual. What was once pulsing and squishing beneath one’s feet was now hard and dry- with three distinct lumps of dried flesh of concerningly large size catching the redhead’s attention. He’d set Caramel down- who was rightfully horrified by whatever the sweet Hell was going on around here- and with reckless abandon, tried to claw at the mounds of flesh.

Even if he was leaving scratch marks on the surface, there was very little progress being made. Despite this, Vampire would continue to try digging into the dead flesh again and again. There wasn’t any telling if this was even the right thing to do- if Mint, and Aloe as an afterthought, would be in these. What else was he to do? There was nothing else here?

“Uh… sir?” Caramel would whimper, “S-sir, above you…” Vampire would finally be pulled from his frantic scraping and look above the mounds. A bright red figure with little black horns standing atop of the dead skin was not the sight he expected to see. There was a startled scoff as he pulled back, bumping and knocking Caramel over without much care. “Who are you?!” He’d growl, immediately on guard as the figure just laughed at him.

“The Devil.” They’d reply, snickering at the other’s fear. “I’m sure you don’t know that, though! It’s not like everyone thinks of The Devil as some big, horrible monster and not… me! Just a little thing!” “I don’t care what you are…” Vampire’s wings flared open. “What did you do to the ones that came down here? What did you do to Mint?” The idle humming that the redhead received was all the more irritating to hear. The shrug he received wasn’t anything better. “It’s more like what they did to themselves! What, do you think I made them kill themselves?” “THEY WHAT!?” Vampire darted forward, trying and failing to grab the little scoundrel who just flew out of his way. He would have flown, too, if it weren’t for the fact he wouldn’t be able to focus enough to actually catch them. “You’re spouting lies! There’s no way they’d-... They wouldn’t do that!”

“Oh, reaaaaally?” The Devil flew back down, getting right against Vampire’s face with the biggest, most shit-eating grin. “You’re saying they’re both too selfish to sacrifice themselves for the world? One life for the benefit of so many others?”

“No, I’m not-! I’m-” Vampire would pause, taking just a moment to process what he’s been told as The Devil flew circles around him. “This is about more than us,” his sister’s voice echoed in his head, “I don’t care if it risks my life if it means others don’t have to deal with the bullshit we do.” Heart beating out of his chest, Vampire would find his will breaking down. Not him, too… Selfless sacrifice… What is wrong with them?!

Falling to his knees, the drunkard would attempt to stifle sobs, only to have that dam burst too easily. Screaming and wailing, Vampire would fall forward, punching against the dead flooring beneath him. “Not again!” He’d cry, “I don’t want to lose someone again! I can’t fucking take this!” Heartbroken, will broken, and with nothing else to lose… Vampire would press his head into the floor, and then begin bashing it in. “Why couldn’t I have been the one?! Not her,” his head hurt, “not him,” his heart hurt, “not either of them!” He felt as though he could fall apart at this moment, as if he hadn’t already.

Heaving with the skin on his forehead broken open enough to bleed, Vampire would inevitably pick himself back up. Not to a stand, but to a kneel. “Devil.” He’d speak flatly, devoid of care. To his surprise, the little red runt would leave their little bit of picking on Caramel to fly in front of Vampire’s sight. “Yeaaa?” “I’d like to make a deal.” “Ooh, classic! We love deals with The Devil!” The snickering would be interrupted as Vampire would take the little thing by the neck, squeezing and bringing them close. “I want those precious to me back. I don’t care what it takes.”

“Well-” The Devil coughed, turning a bit more purple than red thanks to being choked. “Usually I need something precious- like a person or whatever-” Easily granted. Vampire would use his other hand and pull out the charm of his sweet, late sister. “Done.” Even so, the struggling creature in his hand didn’t take it. “Actually, I-I need a blood sacrifice! Yea! Like a person, a precious person-” The Devil was promptly slammed into the mound that still had lingering claw marks on its surface. “I don’t HAVE those because they’re already DEAD!!” Tears dripped from Vampire’s chin at the admittance. It was true, yes, but it was even harder to say. “Then-” The little thing struggled, but wasn’t given mercy. “-then I can’t do it!” “YES YOU CAN, YOU BASTARD.” Did this demon have bones? From the creaking sounds Vamp heard, it certainly seemed like it. “GIVE ME MY FAMILY BACK- GIVE ME MY LOVE BACK-” “He doesn’t e-even love you that much-” “SHUT UP! SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” He’d take The Devil by both hands, raising them up and slamming them onto the floor, getting the miscreant to hoarsely scream in pain as their bones cracked against the hardened flesh beneath them.

“If you won’t give them back… Then I’ll- I’ll just-...” Vampire bared his fangs, looking down at the feeble excuse for a demon in his hands. They were trembling, as if they were somehow powerless despite being The Devil. For something that seemed to be able to do so much, they certainly were doing so little. “I’ll take them back mysssself.” Throwing his head forward, the vampire would dig his teeth deep into The Devil’s flesh. It felt fizzy. Delicious. The taste nearly made him feel dizzy as he tore away the skin at The Devil’s neck. Uncaring for the spewing fluid that stained his face and his clothes, the vampire would continue to chomp and rend flesh from bone. There was a small touch to his shoulder, prompting the redhead to look behind him and hiss, the action splattering blood onto poor Caramel. With that amnesic annoyance too scared to do much else other than an attempt to run out- not that the bloodsucker would care- the feasting upon The Devil would continue.

The Vampire’s skin felt hot as the blood that felt strangely carbonated would be lapped up and swallowed. No part of this creature’s body would be left unscathed. Knawing on bone, chewing through cartilage, devouring red meat with all the fervor of a starved animal. Biting was used as a method to dig deep into the newly stilled corpse- Tearing away innards and consuming whatever was haphazardly deemed edible. No muscle left untorn, no piece of bone left unbroken… “This is… my ssstory…” The Vampire would speak breathlessly, having barely taken the time to inhale between severing organs with its mouth alone. “I’ll make thissss my… ending…”

When the feeding was finally over, The Vampire would wobbly lift itself from the corpse it had created, looking around the room with a sharp gaze. “What will it take… for me to have you both back…?” It would murmur, eyes affixed on the dead flesh. “What ssssacrifice do I need to make…?” It took a deep breath, looking down at its bloodied hands, and its sister’s charm. “Do I need to ssstart it all over? Isss that what… will ssssave you?”

The cold, putrid-smelling air would become still as The Vampire stood. Swaying in place, contemplating. The compulsion of yearning, the obsession of hunger… Without that, where was it? “No devil to deal with… then, perhapsss…” The lost one would kneel in front of the mounds of flesh, finding it far too easy to tear them open. Wrong on two tries, and puzzled as to why there was an unrecognizable golden-colored corpse here, it would eventually find the half-eaten away body of what was one of its sole motivators for so long. “I’ll make a deal with myssself…”

Dragging the green and white haired body out of the mound, The Vampire didn’t bat an eye at the exposed nerves and bones that were left to open air from the flesh that hadn’t yet devoured him fully. “You need a proper sssacrifice,” it told itself, “what will you do with the dead?” Such a question brought a laugh from itself as it knelt down and gave a gentle kiss to the partially decayed forehead of the violinist’s cold, unmoving body.

“Until I can ssssave what belongssss to me…” Hands steady, the redhead would gently take a portion of Mint’s hair and tie it in a very awkward-looking ponytail with its sister’s charm. It… looked nice, all things considered. “I will treat this world as my rightful feasssst… for the cadaverssss of those I love… I will create as many more bodiesss as I need to have them back.” The Vampire would reach its hands gently beneath the body of the half-consumed, picking him up with all the gentle nature of a widow.

“I’ll ressstart thisss Hell if I have to. But until then…” Looking down at the mangled mess that was Mint’s body, it would breathe a small sigh of relief. “At least I have ssssomething to hold on to…”

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