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theteasetwrites · 1 year

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The Dixon Problem

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 1 (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: swearing, mild violence ❧ Word Count: 5k

❧ Summary: Not everyone is happy with the Dixons’ presence in the camp, especially Shane. When things go haywire, the only solution is a compromise, and to let Daryl know you care.

❧ A/N: I realize I’m posting this after a weird little argument over the ethics of zooming in on a man’s crotch but here we are. This is a fanfiction blog, believe it or not. Anyway, here’s another fic set in the same universe as The Beginning (I really like doing these ok), and this one takes place between Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. I really wanted to do some oneshots that would’ve happened before they got together because idk it just seems to cool to read about them before they kissed at the CDC and sort of build up to that. I find it fun to hint at their burgeoning attraction to one another, and how they’re both kind of in denial about their little crushes lol. We all know it was love at first sight. Also I loved writing Daryl fighting with Shane it was so fun. Daryl should’ve punched Shane in the show don’t @ me.

A deep huff escaped your lips as the back of your hand wiped the dripping sweat from your brow. The sun was a few hours from setting, but Georgia summers were unforgiving, and even a setting sun would prove to be dangerous if you didn’t hydrate.

Taking a sip of water from the crinkly plastic bottle, you watched Lori skillfully sew up the rips in one of Shane’s shirts. It was a skill you had neglected, but at one point, you were pretty good with a machine. Hand sewing was something else entirely.

“You’re so good at that,” you said. “How’d you learn?”

Lori smiled as she looked at you, staring in awe. “My mom sewed, my granny sewed, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my great granny sewed, too.”

“That’s sweet… Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were trying to get Mr. Crossbow to teach you how to hunt?” She spoke with a crooked smile, on the verge of laughing. You failed to see what was so funny, frankly.

But mostly, you were embarrassed. The warm blush on your cheeks and the butterflies doing somersaults in your belly betrayed you, though you just pretended none of it was there.

“Well, he, uh, said I should learn how to fight first. He said he’d teach me that, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm… Why are you laughing?”

Lori lowered her head until her hair covered her face, but you heard a few snorts and giggles from beneath the dark curtain.

“You’re so cute,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Cute? Why am I cute?”

“You just are…” She leaned closer to speak in a quiet voice. “I bet Daryl thinks you’re really cute.”

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off as you awkwardly nudged her shoulder with yours. “Stop. That’s not funny. Not true, either. I think he finds me annoying.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “What about the little rock he cracked open for you? That doesn’t sound like the actions of a man who’s annoyed.”

That “little rock” was now your prized possession. You had one half, and you’d let Daryl keep the other. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you. That rock was a geode, something your father would’ve added to his extensive collection. Maybe you were thinking too much into it, and maybe it was cliché, but you liked to think that it represented the last beautiful thing in the world. You kept it by your cot, on full display so it was the first thing you saw each morning. Sometimes, the translucent purple shards would catch the new light that streamed through your tent in just the most perfect way.

“He was just being nice,” you said. “Daryl’s… really nice. I mean, he’s a little… grumpy, but he’s got a good heart. I can tell. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I didn’t think so.”

Before Lori could respond with another teasing quip, you both flinched at the sound of Daryl, the man you were just talking, and thinking a little too deeply, about. His voice was raised, one decibel away from being a yell. It sounded like it was coming from the center of camp, near Dale’s RV, so you both jogged over, anxious to see whatever was causing Daryl to yell a series of curse words and a few other words you couldn’t yet make out.

“Stupid cop!” you heard, now getting closer. “Who the hell do ya think you are?! This ain’t Miami Vice.”

You stumbled upon Daryl, with his chest puffed up and his hands moving vigorously along with his hostile words, in some kind of argument with Shane, who only shook his head with his hands on his waist as the bowman hurled insults his way.

“Listen, Dixon,” replied Shane, who was visibly also beginning to lose his temper, “we gotta maintain some order ‘round here. Now, I don’t give a shit ‘bout what you and your white trash redneck brother used to get up to in bumfuck nowhere, but there’s women and kids here, and I don’t want this shit ‘round ‘em.”

Oh, noble Shane, you thought to yourself, but then again, you still had no idea what the men were arguing about, so maybe he had a point. Still, you did take some issue to being compared to a child, but you weren’t about to jump in the middle of a fight between two burly, hotheaded men for the sake of feminism.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?! It ain’t nothin’, Merle goes off into the woods to do it! Ain’t no women or children gonna get hurt. You’re just as stupid as you look, Columbo.”

“It ain’t them seein’ the drugs I’m worried about,” Shane replied, getting closer to Daryl until their chests were nearly touching. “It’s you and your ugly ass brother.”

Drugs? You knew Merle had a stash of drugs, including crystal meth, and most others figured it based on, well, everything about him, but you didn’t think Shane would pick a fight with Daryl over it. Maybe Merle himself, but not Daryl. Merle wasn’t even there that day, having taken his turn to go hunting, though he never brought back nearly as much as his brother. You weren’t sure if it was because Merle wasn’t a very good hunter, or because he just didn’t care enough to bring back food for your group, but either way, it was clear which brother was better.

“Man, that’s bullshit,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Shane. “You wanna see a threat then look in the mirror. There’ll be a big arrogant prick starin’ back at ya.” Daryl punctuated his sentence by shoving the other man backwards, but before Daryl could strut away as he planned, Shane shoved him back.

“Watch yourself,” Daryl warned, voice low and raspy. “I don’t want your pig blood on my hands.”

He tried to brush past Shane, but the man was fuming. He shoved Daryl back once more, knocking him to the ground.

A puff of dirt swallowed his body as you let out a small gasp of disbelief. No one in the group had gotten physical with anyone like this yet. Maybe it was only a matter of time before it happened. After all, a group of several strangers under incredible physical and mental stress in the middle of the end of the world was a recipe for disaster, but you’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon.

All you could register was the sound of Daryl’s grunting before he sprung back up to sock Shane across the face, disorienting him. He soon struck back, but Daryl ducked and delivered a blow to Shane’s stomach.

Shane had managed to deliver a few blows of his own, but at this point, all you could focus on was thinking of a way to break them up without getting hurt yourself.

“H-hey!” you shouted out, along with Lori and several other women who’d gathered around, yelling to the men to stop. “Stop it!”

Dale was frantically climbing down the ladder of the RV, then greeted the scene with wide eyes. “Hey, hey! Break it up!” He managed to get his arms between the two of them, but he could only keep Shane back. Daryl even tried to get around Dale so he could deliver one last blow to Shane’s face, but T-Dog came up behind and pinned the enraged man’s arms back.

“Get offa me!” he yelled to T-Dog, then turned his attention back to Shane. “I’m gonna beat your ass, you hear me, bacon bits?!”

Dale stood between them, holding his hands out to keep them both at bay. Their chests swelled with heavy, panting breaths as their faces molded into their own unique scowls. Shane’s was terrifying, much more than Daryl’s. His dark brown eyes didn’t need to narrow at all, they were just as terrifying in their wideness. His mouth wasn’t agape, it was sealed shut as the breaths pumped out of his flared nostrils. He stood completely still, like a ticking time bomb. You’d never been more terrified of the man.

Daryl paced back and forth for a few feet on each side of him, his face much more natural looking, but still enraged. At least you could make some sense of Daryl in his anger. He didn’t send a shiver down your spine like Shane did. Well, and maybe you were a little partial to Daryl now, since he’d shown you kindness. In any case, the awkward silence that permeated the stiff, humid air was excruciating.

“Just calm down,” panted Dale, arms still outstretched between them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Shane huffed before speaking. “I was just tryin’ to have a civil conversation about the drug use goin’ on in this camp.”

“Drug use?” questioned Lori. “No, no way. No drugs, not around the kids. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

Daryl turned to look at Lori, not with anger, but confusion. He seemed troubled, unable to reconcile something in his head. His eyes squinted shut as he wiped his nose, which had just begun to bleed from the punch. He spat a glob of pinkish saliva onto the dirt ground, then turned back to face Shane.

“Talk to Merle,” was all he said. His voice was quieter now, almost timid, but still with an air of defensiveness.

He turned back again, in the direction of his tent. You met his glance for a moment, at which point he seemed to stop in his tracks. His foot backstepped, flashes of blue still on you until they averted to the ground. When he regained his focus, he moved quicker, more determined. Still, his confidence seemed drained after he looked your way, but all you could pay attention to now was Shane, who was walking directly towards you, huffing and puffing.

“What the hell were you thinkin’, bringin’ those meth heads here, huh? You stupid or somethin’? I thought you were some kinda… librarian.” He ended his sentence with a sarcastic chuckle.

Before you could respond, Lori spoke up, and thank God she did. You were still petrified by Shane’s aggression, and Lori knew him from before the fall. Maybe he’d actually listen to her.

“Stop it, Shane,” she scolded in an almost motherly tone. Fitting, since the argument between him and Daryl seemed more like that of children than two grown men in their thirties. “It’s done. No point in arguing about it.”

For your part, you took a moment to collect your thoughts, then spoke to Shane with as much bravado as you could muster. “It’s because of Daryl that we’re not starving to death,” you said.

Dale stepped forward, hand outstretched slightly to gesture towards you. “That’s a good point, but what about the drugs?”

You shook your head profusely. “I don’t know anything about any drugs.” That wasn’t true, you knew Merle was getting high, and that he was a dealer, but that honestly didn’t matter to you much at this point. As far as you were concerned, everything that had ever separated the human race from each other was out the window. Drug addicts were no different from Mormons now. Granted, Merle could be unpredictable, and you hated him, frankly, but Daryl and Merle seemed like a package deal, so you’d have to deal with both of them if your group was to reap the benefits of having a skilled hunter.

Plus, you might’ve fostered a bit of admiration for him. Friendly admiration, of course.

“Well, I just ain’t havin’ no crystal meth in this camp,” replied Shane. “And I’m about this close to killin’ your buddy, so’s as far as I’m concerned, this is your problem to solve if you wanna keep them here.”

Diplomacy wasn’t your strong suit, but if it kept Shane from kicking out the Dixon’s, you’d try your best to find some common ground.

“Compromise,” Dale said with a nod. “(Y/N), you should talk to Daryl, ask him to talk some sense into Merle when he gets back to camp. We give them shelter, they get rid of the drugs.”

It sounded more like an ultimatum than a compromise, but you were perhaps the only person who’d had any meaningful contact with the slightly more tolerable brother, so you put aside your reservations to head to the Dixons’ camp, several yards away from the rest of the group.

He was on one knee as he chopped the head off a squirrel on the sawed log he was using as a butcher block. The sound of the axe slicing through the flesh and digging into the wood was so powerful that you flinched, alerting the hunter to your presence.

Though he didn’t look your way. He simply set aside the axe and continued skinning the creature as if you weren’t there.

“You want a piece of me, too, woman?” he asked. “Whatever you gotta say, I ain’t in the mood.”

You bit your lip as you stood still, thinking of what to say. Daryl was tricky, you knew that. Sometimes he was nice to you, and sometimes he wanted nothing to do with you. No one in the camp knew how to deal with him, really. You only knew a little because you somehow found yourself trying to ingratiate yourself with him, but why? You still weren’t exactly sure.

“May I sit down?” you blurted out, thinking that might be the first step to talking to him.

He looked up at you then, with a suspicious glare.

“Why?”

Just as you were still trying to get used to talking to him, he was still trying to get used to your desire to talk to him in the first place. Why would a woman like you want anything to do with a man like him, anyway? Surely you had an ulterior motive, though he couldn’t deny there was something genuinely kind and soft about your face. Maybe even, dare he say, pretty? Not just physically, though he was painfully aware of that, but through and through, you were quite lovely. Well, that’s how it seemed, anyway.

Merle always said that women couldn’t be trusted, that if they weren’t childlike and dumb, they were manipulative and cunning. Nothing else, nothing in between. Of course, Daryl had a hard time believing that. People weren’t that simple, and Merle’s authority on the topic of women was questionable at best. Still, old habits die hard, and maybe he was just a little skeptical of your intentions. After all, no woman or man had ever shown this much interest in talking to him.

Daryl was, for all intents and purposes, a loser. He still felt like one, though he had to admit, when you brought him to your camp, insisting that your group needed him, he did feel a small sense of real, genuine pride, for the first time in his life. Maybe he had something to offer, something good he could do. Maybe you really wanted him there, and he wasn’t just a loser with a bad temper and a meth head brother.

His deeply ingrained insecurity, though, told him otherwise, and that you were only kind to him because of what he could offer your group, not because you actually appreciated him. But then again, the rest of the group had all but ignored him since he arrived, and you were the one who’d spoken more than five words to him at a time. That had to mean something, right?

“I want to talk to you,” you said simply. “So, can I?”

He chewed his lip as he looked you up and down, as if inspecting you. Wordlessly, he nodded, then lowered his head again to focus on the mutilated squirrel.

As you cleared your throat, you sat yourself on a dinky camping chair across from the fire pit. Both of you were silent for a little while, with only the sounds of flesh tearing from the muscle of the little furry critters Daryl was skinning. You watched with furrowed brows, though at a certain point, you had to stop looking, otherwise you’d get a little woozy, so you lifted your gaze to the top of Daryl’s head, covered in short, choppy brown hair.

Surprisingly, just before you were about to say something, Daryl spoke first. “I ain’t no meth head,” he said abruptly. “I don’t touch that shit.” Not anymore, he thought, but something stopped him. Could it be… embarrassment? Maybe shame. All he knew was there was a part of him that cared what you thought, for some odd reason. He’d trained himself not to give a damn about anything, though it was in his nature to. Why was your presence bringing out his sensitivity? It was a blessing and a curse. It hurts to care, he’d always thought. Nothing good could come of it. He cared once, before he knew how cruel people could be.

“I never said you did.”

“S’what you all think,” he replied. “Y’all think I’m some kinda… stupid redneck bastard.” Wouldn’t be wrong, a voice inside him retorted.

“I don’t think that.”

He finally raised his eyes again, glowering at you. “You will.”

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but it did, just a little bit. “I bet you I won’t.”

He shook his head and stood up to retrieve the red rag that was often dangling from his back pocket. Wiping his hands, he nodded towards you. “What’d ya really come over ‘ere for? They send ya over to kick me out?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no. Not at all. Just… You need to tell Merle to quit with the drugs.”

Daryl scoffed, almost a laugh. “Askin’ Merle to give up crystal’s like askin’ him to cut off his own hand. ‘Sides, ya don’t think I’ve tried? Ain’t no use in it. Might as well jus’ kick us to the curb ‘cause it ain’t gonna happen.”

His apathy frustrated you, and you let out an exasperated, now quite irritated, puff of air. “So you’d rather live out in the woods by yourselves than in a group, with people who will look out for you?”

“None of these people will look out for me,” he scoffed.

“Well, I would.”

He looked your way again, this time not suspicious, but confused. “Why’d ya bring me and Merle here in the first place? All ya got to show for it is bein’ yelled at and bossed around by that asshole Shane.” He spat the man’s name out in obvious distaste.

“I told you,” you said, “I thought you would be able to help us… And you saved me. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you.”

He lowered his head again, busying himself by cleaning between his fingers with the rag in the hopes of distracting you from the obvious blush on his cheeks. When he didn’t respond, you realized you hadn’t asked him a similar question.

“Why’d you save me, anyway?” you asked, your voice a little more quiet, as if afraid of him even hearing it.

After all, you were a complete stranger, why should he have helped you? What you knew from human nature was that people often only helped others if they knew there was something in it for them. True altruism was hard to come by, and often not evolutionarily beneficial. Those who helped others and put themselves in danger often died out before their lineage could carry on. Well, that was your vague memories of anthropology class resurfacing, but it still applied.

Indeed, you yourself hadn’t been acting out of true altruism. You had decided to bring Merle and Daryl into the fold because they were hunters, and they could benefit your group by providing your people sustenance. But Daryl’s motivations were less clear.

He swallowed hard as thought for a moment, himself now forced with the reality of facing that question. Why did he help you?

For the next several moments, he transported himself to that day just a month ago, when he was trudging around in the woods outside Atlanta, listening to Merle ramble on about some drunken memory, a relic of his “glory days” that he seemed unable to forget about. They had no destination, no idea where they were going. They’d tried the refugee center in the city, but that had been overrun about as soon as it was set up. Merle was quite content to rough it, and so was Daryl, so long as there weren’t flesh-eating monsters roaming around.

When he heard the rather faint sound of a woman screaming, somewhere ahead in the maze of aspen trees dotting the humid forest, something in him switched, and though he remembered the muffled sound of Merle’s protesting, all he could hear at the time was the scream getting closer and closer.

Soon he was in a small clearing, setting sight on a decrepit creature. Below it were two squirming legs, belonging to the screaming woman who was just inches away from becoming something’s lunch.

Without hesitation, he lifted his bow to shoot, snagging the creature in the head until it fell less than gracefully onto your chest. Pushing the body off, you faced him, mouth panting and eyes hazy with tears.

He tried to think of what he thought then, but it was difficult to put himself in that position again. He only remembered your face, how scared you were. You seemed so fragile, and yet somehow brave enough to look him in the eye. Most of all, you were peculiar to him, different from anyone or anything he’d seen before. Of course, there was nothing particularly strange looking about you, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. You were just… special, with a calming aura of warmth around you, something he was instinctively drawn to for whatever reason.

So, how was he supposed to explain that? You seemed special, important, warm… Creepy. He knew that would’ve sounded creepy. He was already embarrassed from Shane’s display earlier, and his stomach stung to think of you seeing that cop strike him across the face, to appear weak. Once again, he wondered why he cared in the first place.

He finally settled for a somewhat satisfactory explanation. “S’just what people do.”

Indeed, he would’ve done it for anyone. That wasn’t the issue Daryl struggled with, he knew right from wrong, for the most part. He struggled with understanding why you looked at him the way you did, and why he found himself wanting to keep you safe even after the creature attacking you was long dead.

At least you seemed happy with that answer, as one corner of your lips upturned into a small smile. “Well, I am sure some people wouldn’t have done anything. I’m really grateful… And I really don’t want you to go. Merle… I will put up with him if it means you stay here, but if you could please talk to him, try to get him to at least hide the drugs better and maybe go further away from camp to do it, I’d be even more grateful.”

Though he had no idea how he was going to get Merle to agree to changing anything about himself, he couldn’t deny that you were convincing. Something about your wide, almost pleading eyes. Somehow, making you happy seemed to make him happy, too.

“I’ll try,” he said. “But I ain’t promisin’ anything. Merle don’t care ‘bout what I got to say.”

“Well, he should,” you said as you stood to your feet. “He’s your brother… I have a brother, too. We used to talk all the time, though we sort of lost touch before all this.” You gestured around vaguely, ending your sentence with a small nervous chuckle.

Daryl almost didn’t speak, didn’t want to ask what he was thinking, but the look on your face as your lips began to droop and your eyes became vague made him wonder if maybe you needed to talk about it.

“Where is he?” he asked simply, though he immediately began to regret it when he noticed you shifting awkwardly where you stood. “I mean… I, uh… Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shake of your head. “No, it’s fine. He’s, well… I don’t know where he is. Last time we talked he was in Atlanta. Actually, that’s why I was headed there when it happened.”

It seemed to be a universally agreed upon signifier. The fall, the turn, the apocalypse, the plague… Everyone called it something different, but what it all came down to was The End, or The Beginning, depending on who you asked.

“Sorry,” was all he could reply, though he found himself going further, speaking more than he normally would’ve. “Hope he’s all right.”

That meant more to you than anything anyone had ever said to you since the world turned. You hadn’t told anyone about your brother, and you weren’t sure why you decided to tell Daryl, but it felt right. In a world where everything was suddenly wrong, lots of things still felt right, all of which had to do with him. Strange.

“Thank you. I do too. He means a lot to me… I’m sure your brother means a lot to you, too, so I understand why you care so much about him. He’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

If Daryl wasn’t so strangely calmed by your presence in this moment, he might’ve protested to the assertion that Merle meant a lot to him, but he supposed he really did, whether or not Daryl liked it.

As he shifted his shoulders, he raised his hand to scratch his neck, chewing the inside of his bottom lip all the while. The unique little nervous mannerisms he had were already becoming part of your ever-growing encyclopedia of quirks Daryl displayed, and you had to say you found that quite endearing. Indeed, you truly felt that Daryl could become a friend. You wanted him to be a friend.

It reminded you that Daryl spent almost all of his time alone. Whenever Merle was gone or at the edge of camp getting up to his illicit activities, Daryl was by himself. You figured he had to get lonely, and surely the sole company of a man like Merle would eventually drive him insane, even if he was his brother.

“Daryl?” you asked, moving closer as you tried to telepathically direct his gaze up at you.

He did, and a flash of silvery blue eyes that caught little sparkles of light from the sun looked up at you. His eyes were quite deep set and narrow, making them seem at first glance to be cold and uninviting, but that wasn’t really the case at all. Now that you saw them in full view, there was mystery there, something waiting to be revealed. You had a feeling whatever it was, it was something lovely. Your curiosity made you eager to get to the bottom of it.

“Yeah?”

Even the strange softness of his often rough, gravelly voice struck you. As he licked his chapped lips, you found yourself trailing your eyes to his light stubble, sparse on his cheeks but more concentrated around his lips, which weren’t particularly full, but beautifully sculpted as if by delicate, intentional little hands. You found his face much more tolerable than his brother’s. Handsome, even. Perhaps not an A-list Hollywood movie star (certainly no one so clean-cut as Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, both of whom you had at one point hung posters of on your closet door in the mid-nineties) but he had been blessed with good proportions and a pleasant visage that you only dwelled on for a moment until your subconsciousness took the image into its darkest recesses. The last thing you needed to do today was to admire a man’s physical appearance, though it did tempt you for just a few seconds. Maybe a few more.

“You should really join us for dinner tonight,” you said. “You know, around the fire… Dale’s going to make something special. I have no idea what, he says it’s a surprise.”

When his breath seemed to hitch and his muscles flexed in seemingly anxious response, you quickly tried to explain yourself. “I mean, I know it’s awkward, with the Shane thing… but Shane has watch during dinner tonight. Maybe you can just… talk to me, and Dale, Andrea, Amy, Glenn, Jacqui… We all sort of congregate, talk a little bit. I’m sure they’d like to get to know you more.”

He found himself wondering how to respond, how to tell you that he hated talking, especially to people he hardly knew. Then again, he liked talking to you. That was clear to him.

“Maybe… I dunno.”

Though you didn’t want to pressure him, it was hard not to try to convince him. You were shy sometimes, too, but the older you got, the more you realized that you needed people, and that couldn’t be more evident than right now, when people were hard to come by.

“All we have is each other,” you said. “You told me that the world’s never gonna be like how it was, and you’re right. We should never take people for granted anymore.”

He’d never wrap his head around the way you spoke sometimes, how you could be so articulate and intelligent, and at other times, so high-strung or bubbly or aloof… You were about as hard to read to him as he was to you.

“I’ll try,” was all he replied.

“That’s all that matters.”

When he briefly lurked around the fire that night, exchanging a few brief words with Dale and Andrea (and you, of course), you felt like you’d gotten somewhere further with the temperamental hunter.

He didn’t stay for long, and hardly ate any of Dale’s “mushroom mash,” but it was something, and though the day started with a fight between Shane and Daryl, it ended with the latter feeling just a little more welcome.

Most of all, you had no regrets about bringing Daryl Dixon to your camp. You had a feeling it was the right thing to do.

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#the walking dead #the beginning series #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfic #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #the beginning oneshot #theteasetwrites oneshot #theteasetwrites fanfiction #theteasetwrites series

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“familiar yet unrecognizable faces” — new beginnings chapter III

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe cameron x mom!reader

WARNINGS: mentions of drugs, drug dealing, bruises

EDITH SPEAKS: a character that we absolutely HATE is being introduced in the fic for the very first time 😐 but keeping that aside, you will see why Rafe is at school 🤭🤭 sooo many of you guessed it accurately!!

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“Y/n!” Rafe exclaims, his own shock evident in his speech. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Sage’s first day here,” you say, and Rafe looks above your shoulder to see Sage very carefully inspecting some paint tubes kept next to the rest of the art supplies.

“I’m glad she’s in my class then,” Rafe smiles.

Your eyes widen at his words. “Your class?” You echo, confused. Even though you know exactly what he means, you want to hear it from him.

“I teach this class,” he says, walking inside. You follow him, watching him sit in the teacher’s chair, and he gestures to you to sit opposite him, a wooden table between you two.

“Wow okay,” you chuckle. You look around the classroom, the walls tinted a beautiful sky blue, with birds painted on them. The window shows a view of the carefully curated garden of the preschool.

“What, you didn’t expect me as a teacher?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips, the table supporting his elbows and his face resting in his hands.

“Honestly? No, not really, but I like it,” you smile, leaning back into your chair and resting your back.

Suddenly you feel your pants being tugged in an all too familiar way. You look down to see Sage, a bright smile on her face.

“Mamma it’s Fafe!” She yells excitedly. You laugh at her words and pull her up into your lap.

“Yes, it’s Rafe baby,” you look up at Rafe to see him with a smile, his eyes softened as he’s looking at the little bundle of joy in your arms.

“Hello Sage, are you excited to be here?” He asks, leaning in closer to her. She nods her head vigorously with excitement, causing Rafe to laugh at her actions.

“Well then why don’t you go sit with the rest of the kids? Your mom needs to do some important work now with me,” Sage hums at his words and jumps down your lap, and rushes to her new classmates.

Rafe opens a folder and hands you a paper and a pen. You look at it to see it’s just some basic paperwork regarding Sage, her name, her birthday, and the rest of the required fields.

“You just need to fill this out and we’re all set,” he tells you and you nod at his words, looking over the empty blanks of the form. You start filling them up, but one column makes you stop.

“Uh Rafe?” You call him out. He’d busy himself with some of his own work. “I uh, I don’t have anything to fill in here,” You say, pointing to one of the blanks on the page.

“Father’s name,” he mumbles, “are you a single mother?”

He had his speculations you were single, but he didn’t want to assume something before he knew something for sure.

“Yeah,” you shy away from his gaze, your eyes settling on your lap, “I’m divorced,”

“Alright, that’s no issue, just,” he takes a pen, “check this box,”

You look at the page to see he’s checked some box regarding single parents.

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the paper back from him and filling the rest of the form.

Once you’re done filling all the paperwork, you get up from your chair to go to Sage. She’s now busied herself with painting, her brush creating random strokes on a white page. You get on your knees in front of her, your hold on her shoulders. “Mamma’s going now, okay? Don’t misbehave,” you say, giving her a stern look.

“I won’t mamma,” she smiles, and gives you a kiss on your cheek.

“I’ll come to pick you up very soon,” you tell her, getting up from the floor.

You turn around to see Rafe leaning next to the wooden table. He has a soft smile on his face, you can’t help but break into a smile yourself.

“I’ll, I’ll see you later,” your gaze has fallen to your shoes as you feel Rafe looking at you. There’s something about his blue eyes which always seem like they are piercing you. The kind of eyes which you ache to look at again just the second you stop looking at them.

The kind of eyes which are too easy to get lost in.

He wishes you well, and you leave the classroom, not knowing his gaze is fixed at you, longing for you.

— —

You’re sitting on your couch with Sage lying on your lap, her eyes closed as she’s lost in a deep slumber. The lights of your living room are dimmed, the bright light of the tv in front of you dances across you. One of Sage’s cartoons is playing, but as she’s drifted off, you switch the channel to the news one.

“Three men caught in exchange of drugs, the heroin weighs to around 15 kilograms,” the reporter on the tv says. A little video pops up next to him, showing three men with their backs towards the camera, and each man is being held by a policeman, their hands locked well in handcuffs.

The camera cuts to their faces, and the reporter continues speaking. “The men have been identified as Bill Anderson, Aaron Simmons, and Adrian Hayes. They have been…”

The voice of the reporter fades out, as you hear the familiar name and see the familiar face.

You only hear a ringing in your ear as you sit up straight, your eyes wide, as you see Adrian with bruises on his face, his hair reduced to a bare minimum, black circles prominent under his eyes, and pale skin to add to it all.

You can’t even recognise him.

This is the same man you gave you Sage.

The same man who once promised to love you for an eternity, but now, you’re seeing him on tv, completely unrecognizable, as he gets caught for drug dealing.

You shake your head, suddenly feeling your throat dry up, your eyes wide and breathing fast. You turn off the tv, not wanting to look at that horror anymore. You had almost forgotten about Sage sleeping in your lap, looking so peaceful as her chest heaves up and down with her deep breaths.

You pick her up in your arms and take her to her room, laying her in her bed. She doesn’t detect any single movement as she continues to sleep relaxedly. You gently kiss the top of her head, smoothing her hair with your hand.

“I’ll always keep you safe baby, always.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @rafeinterlude @rylie-m @zulema222 @karmasloverrr @leixwhite02 @congratsloserr @rubixgsworld @dilvcv @fandom-life-12 @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @fishingirl12 @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @stvrligghtt @rafegirly @leighbronk @addriaenne @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @crgirlsworld @valenftcrush @lillywildly @julovesurmom @raf3sgff @drewstarkey1bae @aerangi

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herlondonboy · 1 year

Text

Begin Again

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader

summary: just listen to Begin Again (Taylor’s Version).

warnings: none, it’s just fluff.

word count: 1.0k

A/N: for my friend that read the last TS oneshot and complained about how sad it was. Hope this fills up the ever-present hole in your heart like the Wanda smut did, emo boy xx

It was Wednesday.

Probably your least favourite day of the week. It consisted of standing behind the till of a small coffee shop and making coffee for obnoxious customers that don’t understand that ‘we don’t have any more soya milk’ means that you’re out of soya milk.

You stood up with a heavy sigh when you heard the bell above the door ring and looked up. When you met eyes with the blonde that was walking over to you, you held your breath.

Her sunglasses blocked her eyes, but her smile was obviously genuine as she appeared at the counter.

You stammered to greet her, scratching your forehead as your cheeks and ears warmed up dramatically.

The blonde across chuckled at your nerves, assuming that you were trepidatious because she was her, “Hi!” She grinned, half expecting you to ask for a signature or photo because that’s what most people do when they see a celebrity, right?

You gave a nervous laugh, and you cleared your throat, “Uh, hey! What can I get for you?” You bit your lip, trying your hardest not to shamelessly check her out.

Keyword, ‘tried’.

“You’re staring at my chest,” Taylor said with a grin, making your eyes snap up to her, “I think you’re intending to admire my necklace, but it’s coming off as you staring at my chest,” She bit her lip.

Your eyes brightened at the reference, “Oh! Rose to Derek in season 4,” You pointed at her, making her laugh and nod. You smiled before shaking your head and glancing down for a second, “So, what can I get you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened in remembrance, “Uh, a tall, black coffee, please,” She asked sweetly.

“I’d ask for your name, but you’re the only one in here, so,” You chuckled, typing her order into the cash register as she handed you the money to put in the drawer.

Taylor frowned in realisation before smiling brightly and shaking her head, walking over to sit down. You smiled and turned to make her drink, which was probably the simplest one to make.

When you handed Taylor her drink, she thanked you and you went back. Sitting back behind the counter, you kept on glancing up at the blonde who was typing away on her laptop. When she was done, she walked back over to the counter with a cherry smile.

You glanced up and smiled politely, giving a simple goodbye, before looking back down. “It’s Taylor,” The singer said.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“My name. You said you wouldn’t need it, but I want you to have it, so… It’s Taylor.”

Your eyes lit up and you stood, “I’m Y/N,” You shook her hand, “Same time next week?” You joked.

The blonde laughed and nodded, “of course.” She left, but not before dropping a hefty tip in the tip jar.

Taylor didn’t come the next week, much to your dismay, but she did the week after. Apologies were thrown at you, but you shook them all off, making her a drink. She sat down and you repeated the same process from the first time, only this time when Taylor came to tip you, you didn’t exchange names.

When Taylor walked over to you with her mug, you felt your cheeks warm up once more, “Uh, I know we don’t really know each other that well, but I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat?”

“Like a date?” Taylor asked, making you look down. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Y/N.”

You grinned, blushing, “Do you, uh, do you want my number?”

Taylor nodded and pulled out her phone, typing each number that you said and texting you so that you had her number, too. She liked you, a lot. It was nice being friends with someone who had a normal, balanced life, that didn’t know her as Taylor Swift, but just Taylor.

On Friday that week, you sat, anxiously tapping away on your table. It was bordering on 7 pm, the time that you and Taylor had agreed on, and you were half expecting Taylor not to turn up. When the door opened, you saw Taylor and stood up as she walked over to you. She got to the table and you pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit, before pushing her in.

You didn’t know how nice that action was, but she did.

The dinner went smoothly, and before you knew it, you were organising another date. Wednesdays quickly began your favourite day, as Taylor would try and make it to the little coffee shop every week at a similar time.

Taylor: I’m sorry, I can’t make it today. Something came up, I’ll be there next Wednesday. I promise

Y/N: Don’t worry about it!

Y/N: I was actually wondering if you wanted to catch a movie on Saturday? They’re playing Zookeeper at the theatre.

Taylor: I’d love to!

Saturday rolled around and after the movie, the two of you chuckled together, walking hand in hand to Taylor’s car. It went silent, and Taylor thought she had to say something so she spoke up, “You know, my bo-“

“You know, my pa-“ you spoke at the same time, making you grin. Taylor motioned for you to speak first and you nodded, “My parents actually bought that movie theatre back in the eighties. A few years before I was born. What were you gonna say?”

Taylor shook her head, ridding all thoughts of her ex-boyfriend, and smiled up at you, “This has been a great few weeks, you know?” She asked, “It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

She went to slip into her car when you called her name, making her turn back to you, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

The blonde grinned and nodded, “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

You looked up at the sky to hide your smile before looking down at the ground, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do,” Taylor whispered and you leaned forward, connecting your lips with hers, completely oblivious to the camera flashes around you.

#Taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #Taylor swift oneshot #taylors version #red taylor’s version #red taylor swift #red tv #begin again #fluff #fearless taylor’s version #fearless #midnights #midnights 3am edition #elijah writes

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lilfriezatyrant · 20 days

Text

As the evening draws to a close, you listen to the last nightly broadcast of the radio demon, who also resides in the hotel. It's as if he has rehearsed a lullaby just for you, because it doesn't take long for your eyes to get heavier and heavier and you finally fall into a quick slumber.

"We'll meet again,

Don't know where,

Don't know when,

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

But then in the middle of the night, quite subconsciously, a steady goose bump slowly spreads over your body, starting on your arms, along your upper body, your scalp, your back and finally ending on your lower legs.

A strong cold shiver hits your palm and you abruptly open your eyes, observing your own hand dangling just outside the bed. Maybe it's just that your blood circulation has been disrupted and cut off by the perceived heaviness of your hand, because you can no longer even feel your fingers. A feeling that you actually have very often when you get into this sleeping position...

You now try to lift your arm to position yourself differently, but you realize that this is not possible... as if there is an additional weight chained to it.

What the...?

With a perplexed expression on your face, you crawl to the side, look directly at your hand, but you can only make out the silhouette and widen your eyes even more in a confused reaction. Something... stuck to the palm of your hand?

Oh god...hopefully it wasn't Niffty causing a bug battlefield in your room again and you might be bathing your fingers in their slimy little guts.

But wait...the little demonic maid always cleans all the rooms very meticulously...so it makes no sense at all.

Or...was it even a small, shelly minion of Sir Pentious that you accidentally smashed in your deep sleep while turning around? Sounds brutal, but those egg boys are unfortunately more fragile than they look.

...strange thoughts when you've just woken up. And it doesn't feel like egg yolk either.

You then feel this now volatile substance get caught between your fingers and you react instinctively, but with your other hand, which doesn't seem numb and first turns on the small bedside lamp on the little shelf within reach.

It's only a weak, dimmed light, but at least you can now see what's on your other hand.

...a black, visible, umbrageous hand clasps yours and you can feel the cold grip more than clearly.

You immediately realize who it is; after all, there is only one person in this hotel who can summon a shadowy apparition.

Still, you wonder what his shadow is doing here; you're used to it accompanying you from time to time, but it's the middle of the night and you're not in any danger...right?

"Is...um...everything all right? Or why is Alastor's dark companion visiting me?" your voice asks in a somewhat timid manner and in the next moment your hand is pushed further and further upwards and you can only watch silently as the shadow rises more. As if it were passing the ground without any resistance.

(Admittedly, it was very cute to watch as the two shadowy ears appeared on the ground first.)

It is now right next to the bed and only now do you realize how tall it actually is, both the shadow and its owner (and this has nothing to do with your current reclining position.) He towers over most demons, after all.

You can now see the outline of the eyes and mouth clearly and are greeted with a mischievous smile, it continues to hold your hand in its, giving the back of your hand a charming, fleeting kiss that sends an even colder shiver through your body, but it feels warm at the same time...like an icy fire.

Your cheeks flush as the silhouette briefly pats the back of your hand with its other hand, which is probably meant to serve as some sort of reassurance.

"Why are you here? Did you just come to check on me...?" you don't really understand. And why did he only send his shadow here?

Maybe it was just a little scouting to see if everything is really okay.

Although you know that the shadow has no voice and will only answer non-verbally, it would seem strange not to ask any questions. After all, you've known the cunning overlord's silent companion long enough to be able to read its reactions.

But his next action came so unexpectedly and in a flash: both hands are pinned next to your head and the lower end of the shadow, which now has a tail instead of legs, had darted around your legs.

"W-what...", but the quiet presence forbids you any further words and places an index finger over your mouth with a deliberate touch.

A cool tingling sensation is also placed on your lips.

Your tiredness is conjured away and it's not just because of the cold contact that the shadow causes... it is as close to you as your own shadow. Even closer.

It feels as if it is constantly seeking you out and is your protective companion.

Even back then, when you were shopping alone in the city, you were never really alone, you always had a secretly defending and watchful guardian at your side.

And at this very moment, the creature seems to be studying you curiously, this time he is not just a silent observer.

It is so close to your face that you can even feel its cool but fresh breath. Like fresh rain... that's how you feel the pleasant scent. Perhaps even a mixture of rain and snow.

"Are you on patrol or are you here voluntarily?“ Your voice remains quiet, almost a whisper, but your lips are once again sealed with a single finger. Either he doesn't want to answer that, or you really shouldn't ask any more questions.

The shadowy figure's permanent grin forms into a much larger and more malicious one. Both wrists are firmly in its grip again and without warning it presses its mouth directly onto yours.

The moment stands still for you, your eyes are dilated, your pupils are trembling in your iris.

Completely surprised, you can only manage a subtle gasp, but the shadow detaches itself again, mimics a giggling reaction with its facial expressions and finally widens one more eye curiously.

But before you could realize that it was actually a kiss, the silent shape doesn't hesitate and reconnects its shadowy mouth with your lips.

Although your chest fills more with cold, your face feels extraordinarily warm...it resembles a paradoxical supernaturalism...

Your eyes close slowly as it interlocks its obscure fingers with yours. And even if this being has a shadowy appearance, you can still feel material... as if it wants to be felt.

You intuitively squeeze your fingers together more, embrace this coldness more and more and don't want to let go of it. The shadow shows the same reaction, pulling you more into its grip and making the initially fleeting kiss more intense. And it seems to be learning with every passing second. Also that you need air to breathe again after a short time.

The shadow's head tilts to the side, secretly wondering why you're gasping for air so exhausted, before it finally understands and holds both hands in front of its mouth with a silenced cackling.

"Oh...of course you…think it's funny."

You're still panting, trying to normalize your breathing again, but blush even more when you say to your guest quietly:

"But...it was very nice..."

The shadow's chuckling gesture dies down again and its curiosity seems to have been reawakened.

Once again, it pins your hands against the sheet, very slowly dedicates his face to your right, open palm, gives the inner surface a discreet but nonetheless prolonged kiss before drawing a heart-shaped outline with his ghostly index finger.

Your face probably couldn't get any redder... You wonder if these are his true feelings? Does the shadow reflect this...?

Its fingers interlock with yours once more, humanly delicate.

As you swallow, it watches your throat closely and its curiosity is still piqued.

You wonder what it is going to do next, but you feel as if your own voice is stuck in your throat as you can't utter a word. Embarrassment envelops you and it is such an unfamiliar atmosphere for you, what this apparition has drawn you into. But it doesn't feel uncomfortable at all, quite the opposite is the case.

You simply accept the offer, or rather the dark creature's thirsty curiousness.

When you feel the touch of its lips on your neck, you flinch for a moment, but then let out a very light, pleasurable hum and instinctively stretch your neck even further to give its touch more surface area. For a brief moment, you can even feel its grin on your skin become even more distorted in amusement. And like a curious child, it even licks it with its shadowy tongue, nibbling gently, before something in it is awakened and it even bites into it.

Hard.

Too hard.

With a sharp pain that makes your whole body twitch and you let out a pained scream.

"AH! What the hell...!"

The shadow then straightens up immediately, but remains on your body, strokes the wound with an angular finger and guides it into its jaw. He tastes the sanguine essence and seems to be thinking about how he could make up for it.

You now place a hand on the wound yourself, which fortunately is not particularly large, but you still seem more startled than frightened, although it could have torn out more than just a scrap of flesh...

Next time, be a little more gentle. These words remain in your thoughts, however, as the shadow approaches you again and slides its tongue over the maltreated area to indirectly send an apologize to you.

"Do I really look like a snack to you?" you have to giggle sheepishly at this and feel more warmth return to your body as it places one palm in yours again, drawing further gentle heart shapes. If that really was an accident then it's already forgotten. Although your neck continues to throb with pain, all the gestures the shadow makes compensate for this mishap.

But time seems to have already passed when the door to your room opens and you look in the same direction as the shadow and two glowing red eyes stare at both of you, along with a radiant, ominous set of bared teeth. A voice rings out, echoing throughout the room and radio waves laced in the sound.

"Did we go astray again, didn't we?"

Is it just your imagination, or can't you see a small trace of blood on the mouth of the gentleman who suddenly appeared? Exactly the same trace of blood that his shadow shares.

Your blood.

#I finally did it #I finished this oneshot x3 #reader x Alastor's shadow #reader x Alastor #alastor x reader #fem reader #Alastor #Alastor's shadow #oneshot #have some fluffy times again I guess c:#even if I struggled so much with his shadow xwx #also the first time I made such a fancy ✨ title for a writing #my writing #hazbin hotel #(original song at the beginning: We'll meet again by Vera Lynn)#I needed to do that scene with his shadow 🥺❤ because it also deserves attention q^q #no egg boi was harmed during that writing <3

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anitalorimer · 8 months

Text

𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐑 |𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 | 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗'𝚜 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕. 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | 𝟷𝟾+, 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗, 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛!𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 | 𝚓𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 | 𝟽𝟺𝟹 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

When you first met Jonathan Crane, you did not expect for him to be the reason you would be fighting for your sanity. You have been dating Jonathan for a few months now, your relationship shrouded in a certain mystery that seemed to surround him. You knew he had a peculiar interest in fear, studying it’s effects on people’s minds with an almost obsessive dedication. Despite your closeness, he had managed to keep his Scarecrow activities hidden from you.

Your paths had crossed in the chaos of Gotham City. You, a determined reporter, had been working on the Raymond Falcons case, delving deep into the criminal underbelly of the city. It was during this investigation that you first met Jonathan. He was a professor at a local university, offering insights into the psychology of fear and the criminal mind.

Your conversations started as interviews, but they quickly evolved into something more. There was an undeniable connection between you, a shared passion for unraveling the mysteries of the human psyche. As you delved deeper into your investigation, he became your confidant, a safe haven in a world teetering on the edge of darkness.

Back to that fateful night when fear took hold of him, his own vulnerability sparking something within you. You awoke with a start, the air around you thick with a suffocating sense of dread. And there he was, Scarecrow, his presence looming over you like a nightmare come to life.

"N-No... What...?" Your voice trembled as you struggled to comprehend the surreal scene before you.

His eerie, distorted chuckle sent shivers down your spine. "I couldn’t help but watch from afar. The peace in your body as you investigate crimes in Gotham. I’ve seen you, Y/N. You show no fear and that makes me intrigued. Fear, my dear, is a powerful tool. And tonight, you'll understand its true nature."

Panic surged through your veins as he exposed you to his fear toxin. It was as if the world around you twisted and warped, reality giving way to the darkest corners of your mind. Images of your worst nightmares began to flash before your eyes, an onslaught of terror and despair.

"No, stop! This isn't real!" You cried out, your voice quivering with raw fear.

But his voice, chilling and intoxicating, echoed in your ears. "Fear is the reality we choose to embrace. Embrace it, Y/N. Show me what’s hiding in that peaceful head of yours!"

The room seemed to close in around you, shadows morphing into grotesque figures. Your breath came in ragged gasps as the images intensified, your heart pounding as if it might burst from your chest.

The fear of being abandoned surged within you, a tidal wave of raw emotion. Memories of past hurts, moments of feeling alone and unwanted, all converged into a torrent of anguish. The faces of loved ones fading away, leaving you in darkness.

"Please, no more!" You screamed, your voice cracking as the weight of your terrors pressed down upon you. "Jonathan, no! Don’t go!"

Watching the fear curse through your body, something snapped inside of Jonathan. Your body lay before him, converged in sweat and tears and tried to scramble out of the shadows of your fear. Jonathan became aware of your fear, however he became aware of his presence in your life.

A raw connection, an unbreakable bond, a gift of love. This was not how Jonathan wanted to hear the confession, but his sinister actions got the best of him. Aware of the current actions, Jonathan felt useless to try and calm you down. He had to let it run its course.

The sounds of your cries, screams and the sight of your body trembling with fear made Jonathan remorseful. Jonathan pulled off the Scarecrow mask, gripping it tightly in his hands. The material felt heavy, his own fear and obsession weighing it down with sorrow.

As the toxin's grip began to loosen, you found yourself shivering, trembling not just from the aftereffects of the toxin but from the rawness of the emotions it had dredged up. And then you saw him – Jonathan, no longer Scarecrow, but a broken man before you.

Tears streaked down his face, his hands trembling as he clutched the mask that represented his alter ego. In that moment, your fear transformed into a profound understanding. You saw the man behind the mask, the vulnerability he had always hidden, and the pain he carried.

Upon hearing your shuffling against the bedsheets, Jonathan turned to face yours. " Y/N… I-"

"Why did you do this to me?" You felt betrayed, hurt, but in all emotion, you felt fearful.

"I never meant... I didn't want you to experience this. I wanted to understand, to know why you're different. But I never wanted to hurt you like this."

Seeing Jonathan in this state was foreign to you. Looking into his glossy eyes, you saw raw feeling, the real Jonathan.

Tentatively, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his tear-stained cheek. "Jonathan," you murmured, your voice filled with compassion. "We both have our fears. I didn’t want you to know mine because I fear of losing those important to me. You are important to me, Jonathan.”

His gaze met yours, a mixture of relief and contentment in his eyes. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I brought this upon you."

Your fingers found their way to his lips, silencing his self-blame. "We're all haunted by something. What matters is how we choose to confront those demons."

His voice cracked as he spoke, his vulnerability laid bare. "I never meant for you to see this side of me. I never wanted to lose you."

The weight of remorse bore down on him as he realised the extent of what he had done. He had brought your deepest fears to life, subjected you to the torment he himself had inflicted on others. As you trembled before him, his heart shattered, the pieces scattering at his feet.

But forgiveness was not an immediate gift. Fear still lingered in your eyes, and his self-doubt was palpable. The days that followed were heavy with the weight of what had transpired. There were moments of silence, when unspoken apologies hung in the air, and moments of distance, when you both grappled with your own insecurities.

It was a slow journey, navigating the landscape of your emotions. You were fearful of him, of the darkness he could tap into. He was fearful of himself, of the damage he had inflicted upon you. Yet through it all, the connection you shared acted as a guiding light.

Finally, after weeks of uncertainty and soul-searching, the moment of forgiveness arrived. It was a quiet night, a gentle breeze rustling the curtains. You sat together, the weight of your experiences hanging between you. And then, he spoke.

"Y/N, I can never erase what I've done, the fear I've subjected you to. But I want you to know that I'm truly sorry, that I never wanted to hurt you."

Your gaze met his, the wall between you crumbling. "And I'm sorry for shutting you out, for not fully understanding what you were going through."

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "We both have our fears, Y/N. But I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to protect you from them."

A tear glistened in your eye as you looked at him, the connection between you growing stronger. "And I promise to face my fears, as long as we face them together."

It wasn't an easy path forward, but through shared moments of vulnerability, you learned to trust each other on a level that transcended the surface. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, your bond only grew stronger, grounded in the understanding that fear could either tear you apart or bring you closer together.

With time, you both found solace in each other's arms, knowing that you were no longer alone in your struggles. And as the nights grew quieter, the darkness no longer held the same terrors it once did, for you had each other to chase away the shadows.

#cillian murphy #cillian #murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane #batman begins #the dark knight #jonathan #crane #fanfic #oneshot #dark #jonathan crane oneshot #jonathan crane imagine #imagine #scarecrow fanfic #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader

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butterfluffy · 3 months

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“lovesick!”

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· love is a good thing, isn't it? but, isn't too much a little too.. sickening? you know, lovesick?

⠀⠀➧ unlabeled | various!yandere!op × gn!reader | oneshots

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed until further notice!

⠀⠀➧ warnings — the fics will contain yandere themes and behaviors, dark themes, and toxic relationships. mistakes and swearing are gonna be present too ofc, so do ignore them, thanks!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: welcome to “lovesick!,” which is a writing special i made just because, and maybe for this valentine's season.. made crazy.

MASTERLIST

( c o n s t r u c t i n g . . . )

⠀⠀➧ trafalgar law | ❤️‍🔥 | 🧲 | 🦩

#ੈ♡˳· butterfluffy #ੈ♡˳· “lovesick!” · special #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece oneshot #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #eustass kid x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #apparently i'm still alive #idk when will i begin making these fics considering how busy i am these days AHAHAHAAH

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thewonandonly · 4 months

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20:51 — tell me what you really like, baby, i can take my time, we don't ever have to fight, just take it step by step, i can see it in your eyes, cause they never tell me lies, i can feel your body shake, and the heat between your legs | i feel it coming by the weeknd feat. daft punk (NSFW)

jaehyun loved paying for you to get your nails done. he loved seeing you get excited about choosing a color, design and length. he loved seeing you bounce in your seat with excitement as you pull up to the nail salon. he loved seeing you chatter with the nail technician while he sat in the chairs, scrolling on his phone, taking off guard photos here and there to remember your smile. he loved seeing your happiness as the technician finished your nails and took a picture after it was all said and done.

he just loved to see you happy being treated well.

more than seeing you happy though, he loved when you took videos for your social media stories, straightening your hand out over his lap as you brushed your fingers against his cock with your perfectly polished nails.

"god— fuck..." he moaned out as your nails traced his abdomen, "quit teasing." groaning, his fingers tangled in your hair as you looked up at him, "come on, baby."

he lifted his hips from the couch, pulling his sweats down until the middle of his thighs, his hard cock hitting his lower stomach.

you used the tip of your freshly done nails to trace the vein along the length of his member, looking up at him to see his head leaned back across the couch.

jaehyun's hand only tightened on your hair as you wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pumping him as your free hand gripped his thighs.

"mmm, feels so good, baby." he could feel his cock twitch as you pumped him, the pre-cum leaking from the red, swollen head, "shit, you're gonna make me cum." he whispered out, his hips rolling to meet your strokes.

the cum melted along his length, covering your nails with the sticky, white consistency. he gasped softly as he looked down at you, a tired smile crossing his lips.

jaehyun loved when you got your nails done.

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electrictorch · 1 year

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My boy

jealous!reader × edmund pevensie for @emotionallyattachedteen's request

You like boys. But you don't like other girls hovering around your boy.

During the last couple of years in Narnia, King Edmund the Just had grown so much -- he became stronger, wiser, more clever with words. When you first followed him and his siblings into the wardrobe, you also were a child yourself. You argued with Edmund, looked up to Susan, and even had a tiny crush on Peter.

But none of you were children anymore. You were all maturing. Now even Lucy was taller, growing in kindness, intelligence and beauty everyday. Your relationships were changing as well, and now you and Edmund had something. Or at least that's what you thought, before this princess stepped in.

She had long, auburn hair flowing over her shoulders as she laughed with so much grace that you had to focus on any other sound not to let her charm you. She had eyelashes long as hell, and a pretty face too pretty to be real. She sat next to Edmund the first dinner, and, had you not been crowned by Aslan, years ago, along with the Pevensies, you would have thought of yourself as unworthy of interfering in their conversation.

No fair, you thought. Now he won't look at me anymore.

After that night, you stuck your eyes on Edmund as if trying to tell if he was thinking about that princess or not. But the worst of all was the third night, when you hosted a humble dance in honor of your guests. She requested the first dance with him, and also had her second with the High King. When the third dance started and you saw her fleeting so gracefully around your boy, you couldn't take it anymore.

You ran to the nearest balcony to take some fresh air. Under the moonlight, the sea on the horizon, this was the perfect spot to cry all night long. But you had to eventually come back. You breathed in. Breathed out. Breath in. Breath out.

He is not your boy, you reminded yourself. He is a King. He has as much freedom as you do.

After a few tears, you heard footsteps approaching and dried your cheeks. Breath in. Breath out.

'y/n?' Edmund. Your boy, though he didn't seem to know it. 'Are you OK?'

You nodded. The breeze felt too cold on your face. The sea did not care for you -- it went back and forth as usual. That was how things should be, perhaps. You could not tame the waters even if you tried and cared so much for it. People could not belong to you until they gave themselves to you, like the seas to the moon above them.

'Why aren't you at the dance?'

'I... needed some fresh air.' He was getting closer, until he leaned on the railing, next to you, and turned to you. You had to look away. 'Why aren't you at the dance? You were having so much fun.'

He would not turn his face. 'I noticed you weren't there. Why did you run like that?'

Oh, he saw it.

Wait -- he saw it...

'I... needed some fresh air,' you insisted. He saw me leaving?

'Come on, y/n, I know you. You like parties and dances. You like having guests. You wouldn't run away from you duties.'

Oh, he sees it. You turned your head slightly to look at him. His dark hair shone under the moonlight -- squints of silver in accord to his crown and clothes. His eyes were persistent, reaching out to you, to learn what happened from your own eyes. His lips pressed in worry. Whether or not he wanted something with you, he seemed sincerely interested in hearing you.

'You were dancing with the princess,' you risked in a hushed voice. You thought of nothing else to say. Could you blame him? Could you get angry at him? You had no right to.

'Oh...' he let the thought sink in as you drew circles with your fingers on the railing. 'Is that what was bothering you? But...'

'Sorry,' you said, fearing you would say something that could make you sound even more ridiculous. 'I... I really need the fresh air. I don't want to steal you away from -- from our guests.'

'y/n,' he said. 'y/n, look at me.'

You slowly lifted your eyes to his. Now it was only the two of you, under the moonlight, on a balcony, over the sea. There were so many things you would have liked to tell him, but would it be of any use?

'y/n, may I have this dance?' He couldn't contain a smile.

Well, that was not what you were expecting. You released a small snuffle and accepted the hand he extended with a reverence. He put his other hand behind your waist. You rested your other hand on his shoulder. And you both danced under the moonlight, on a balcony, over the sea. He looked gorgeous. Breath in. Breath out.

'Edmund,' you dared to say. 'I'm sorry I was jealous. I, I just thought...' you hoped he would interrupt you, but he let you finish, his dark eyes patient and welcoming. '...I thought we had something. I like you, Edmund.'

He looked down and smiled, then up to you again. You thought you felt his grip tightening around your waist and on your hand as you two swung to your own rythm. His eyes shimmered. His lips curved. Breath in. Breath out.

'I like you too, y/n.'

You danced around a little more. Breath in, breath out.

'Does that mean we have something?' you asked.

'We do.' He smiled.

You thought of the waves below the balcony, trying to reach for the moon, giving themselves to it. 'Call me yours, then, if you let me call you my boy.'

'Your boy? I like the sound of that.'

You, too. The sound of the sea drowned the need for words. The moonlight rained down on your hearts, poured to each other, beating for the other, behind the silly smiles of you and your boy.

#is this too angsty at the beginning???#its my first time writing with yn i dont know what to feel like #i have mixed feelings #is this a gender neutral reader??#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #king edmund the just #fanfic #jealous reader #chronicles of narnia #oneshot #is it even possible to release a small snuffle? pardon my english #my writing

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mustangs-flames · 9 days

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What's In A Name? - Hail, True Body: Part 4

And it was a warmth that thawed out newly formed bones, a cloying syrup that clogged his throat solidly he thought he might drown, choking against a film that refused to shift - suffocating slowly. Pressed against Mark’s neck and shoulder, he smelled of something citrus, spiced and clean, frankincense smeared into his skin, fragrant and sacred - but he tasted - he tasted like gold.

Or: Sometime following the events of Part 1, a mimic formerly known as Cesar Hernández wakes up in the nothingness it originally came from. Confused and lost in a jumble of memories that are both its own and not at all, it clings to the one thing it can remember: a boy with sad brown eyes and a crucifix.

'Hail, True Body' is a religious horror series that focuses on what it means to be human in a world that God has abandoned. For Mark Owens, 1993 is shaping up to be the worst year of his young life - and that's saying a lot all things considered. When his best friend Cesar Hernández calls him one night in October, Mark ignores the broadcast warnings to help him out. But Cesar is acting... strange.

Being human is a terrible weight, but sometimes you find others to share the burden with.

Please be aware of each story's tags before you read.

#hail true body #original fiction #horror writing #horror fiction #horror story #horror #my ocs #my work #my writing #please leave a comment and/or kudos! it truly helps a lot and lets me know what you're liking/thinking so far <3 #this is a oneshot btw #next up is part 5 (the beginning of arc 2) - the good samaritan! :)

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function-heartbeat-sync · 2 months

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i made a whole timeline for generator rex because i love timelines. but more importantly this is a timeline for genrex WITH our plans for future fics in season 1

its nice to have a visual of how stuff slots into place, since some fics overlap and we've shuffled a few episode orders

plus yall get a few upcoming title teasers =]

#generator rex #userdata.wip #admin.fae #we started posting failure condition first which sure was a decision #we will not be posting out of order anymore #not when it comes to plot relevant stuff #the thing is we started with failure condition because we lied to ourselves about it #we said it would just be a oneshot. just rex having a panic attack. no big deal.#but then... everything else #so now we're starting from the beginning with establish connection #yeehaw

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

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The Other Brother

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 3 (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, Merle being slightly annoying/sexist (are we surprised really) ❧ Word Count: 5.1k

❧ Summary: Merle has just made a home for himself in the prison, and though you aren't happy about it, you're trying to keep cool. When a conversation breaks out between you and Merle, you realize the one thing you have in common—you both love Daryl.

❧ A/N: This is another oneshot from my series, The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning (and yes I do regret naming it that because the title is so long lol). I wanted to capture a scene we didn't see in the series, which is another conversation between the reader and Merle (see Chapter 20 for a refresher on the last conversation they had... it didn't go well). I didn't want to make Merle redeemable in this scene, but I did want to have him have another talk with reader because their dynamic is interesting to me. I also wanted to get some more Daryl backstory (that's always fun) and to see that from Merle's perspective. I do think Merle cares about Daryl deep down, he's just a shitty brother (and person). Also cute Daryl and reader moments, of course.

Morning light poured through the tall, paned windows of the cafeteria. It was still early, but you were up, about to start your watch in the guard tower. With tensions rising between your people and the Governor, it was becoming all the more necessary to keep alert. Even Rick, Michonne, and Carl had embarked on a mission just a few hours ago, in the hopes of bringing back a cache of weapons.

You’d hoped that Andrea’s efforts to make peace last night weren’t in vain. For your part, you would try to help any way you could, but there was no way of reconciling the truth—Merle had captured Glenn and Maggie, and Rick, Daryl, Michonne, and Oscar had killed several of the Governor’s people in order to get them back. There wasn’t going to be any peace made from that.

But that wasn’t of any consequence for the moment. There were other things to worry about, too.

First there was the matter of checking on little Judith, who had just begun to stir awake in her makeshift crib (just a box with blankets and towels for cushioning, and Beth’s handwriting scrawled “Lil’ Asskicker” on the side).

You couldn’t help but peer into the box to look at her, and, thinking you were completely alone, you set down your axe and your pack to transition into your baby voice.

“Well, hello there,” you cooed to the newborn. She was only about a week or so old now, but she’d already been through so much. The baby’s hazel colored eyes opened sleepily, her pink lips opening in curiosity as she studied your face, albeit with not much going on inside that little head.

You curled your fingers gently but firmly around her sides to lift her into your arms. Her legs wrapped around your side as you bounced her softly. “You’re just a little angel, aren’t you? Yes, you are. Judith. J-U-D-I-T-H. That’s your name. My name is (Y/N).”

You continued to spell out your name, laughing at the final letter when Judith drooled a little, with spit dripping down her chin as she, too, laughed.

“Oh, great,” you said. “Silly goose. Here, let me wipe your chin.”

You turned to the kitchen sink where a roll of paper towels was propped on the side. After sitting yourself down at the table, holding Judith as you wiped her chin, you felt a pair of cold, beady blue eyes boring into your back.

Merle was standing in the middle of the stairs leading up the window perch, one leg obnoxiously propped on the railing, and his amputated arm sporting the homemade blade attachment that you found quite unsettling.

He stepped down slower now, mustering a small smile. As best as you could, you ignored him, not bothering to look his way, though you recognized the feeling of that stare anywhere—it wasn’t unlike Daryl’s in its intensity, though his always felt much more affectionate.

You hadn’t said a word to him since yesterday afternoon, when he’d made a point to say that his brother could never love you. As much as you tried not to let it get to you, you couldn’t forget those words. They seared and stung and oozed.

Merle had touched on an insecurity deep within you, one that had never truly gone away. You feared he was right—Daryl couldn’t love you.

There was no rationalization to it, but rational thought didn’t exist in that part of your mind. Daryl loved you. He wouldn’t have come back to the prison the other day if he didn’t. But if he did, maybe he wouldn’t have left in the first place.

You just couldn’t grapple with Merle. He frightened you, even disturbed you. He represented everything that Daryl had left behind, every bad thing he’d experienced in his life before you. If you could put all of Daryl’s trauma and anger and sadness into one person, that person would be Merle.

You only hoped he’d leave you alone, since the last time you talked to him in this room, you nearly splashed boiling water at his face.

“Early bird gets the worm,” he said. How could Daryl’s brother have such a grating, annoying voice, while Daryl had the softest, sweetest, albeit a little gravelly, voice you could imagine? “You tryin’ to catch any worms today, sweetheart?”

Give me strength.

You shook your head, still looking down at baby Judith as you cleaned her.

You heard Merle’s steps come closer as he trudged down the stairs, until finally setting himself down at the same table. His face was directly across from you now, so you had no choice but to see him.

You held Judith closer to your chest, as if instinctively keeping her as far away from Merle as possible. After all, he did have a very sharp, long blade jutting out of his arm.

“Do you need something?” you asked curtly.

He raised an eyebrow, and perhaps you should’ve known better than to say that, since he looked like he was about to reply with something rather crass.

“You could tell me where my baby brother is,” he said.

That was a bit of a relief. “He’s in bed,” you said. “Sleeping in.”

Merle knew his brother, and that wasn’t something Daryl had ever cared to do before. Well, maybe he didn’t know his brother as well as he thought.

“Sleeping in?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as a wry smirk curled onto his face. “You wear him out, girl?” There it is. “Too much hanky panky? Ya know, my brother ain’t no spring chicken. How old are you, anyway?”

He looked you up and down, as if trying to figure it out on his own.

“Twenty-six,” you replied, trying to avoid eye contact as you prepared Judith’s baby formula on the table.

He let out a whistle, much to your annoyance. “Well, shit.”

You rolled your eyes as you replaced the lid of Judith’s bottle, now filled with liquid formula. “I’m a grown woman,” you assured him.

“Ain’t no disputin’ that,” he agreed. “Just still a little… shocked, s’all.”

It took every fiber of your being not to engage, but there was always that part of you that just couldn’t let people like Merle walk all over you. It took you a long time to figure out how to stand up for yourself, and though sometimes it was still a struggle, people like Merle reminded you of why you couldn’t be quiet anymore.

So to change the subject, at the very least, you asked him a question, one that had been on your mind since you learned that Merle was alive.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“What d’ya mean, Bambi?”

“I mean… why are you here? Just to mess with Daryl’s head?”

Perhaps you were going too far again. You had already developed mild regrets about telling Merle off yesterday, though it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. After all, he offended you, and you’d held your tongue for long enough. Still, a part of you wanted to get along with Merle as much as you could, though you knew there would never be anything better than vague ambivalence towards each other.

“Funny,” he scoffed. “I was gonna ask you the same question.”

Asshole.

“You think I’m messing with Daryl’s head?”

“That’s what women do,” Merle replied simply. “Complicate things. A real sweet, pretty one like you can make a man weak, turn him into jelly. Evil. No wonder the Garden of Eden fell. That damn woman.” His voice turned into a sharp hiss as he spoke, his facial features tightening as he continued. There was vitriol there, like he was spitting acid at you. “Daryl’s always been… sensitive.” He spoke the word like it burned his tongue as it slipped out. “Shoulda known a woman like you would come along and sweet talk your way into his heart. Ya know, since I got here, I wonder if my brother is even the same guy from last time I saw him.”

You couldn’t count how many times you rolled your eyes during his little rant about women. You’d heard it all before in one way or another, how women are so “complex” and have some kind of nefarious plan to get men to do their bidding. All rooted in misogyny, of course. You always found it rather funny how men could say such things about the wickedness of women, and yet sexualize them in the same breath.

“He’s the same man,” you said. “He just changed. This world changes people, some for the better.” You propped the baby’s head up a little higher in the crook of your arm to begin feeding her from the bottle. “Daryl stepped up. Sophia, Carol’s little girl, she got lost in the woods, and Daryl led the search. He almost got himself killed trying to find her. And on the road, he hunted for everyone, protected everyone.” Judith caught your attention when she coughed a little, having drunk her formula too fast. You patted her back softly until she stopped. “Daryl loves this baby, too. He calls her Little Ass-Kicker. He’s so good with her.”

Merle’s eyes narrowed at you, investigating you. Some woman he’d once thought to be insignificant and not long for this world was suddenly more knowledgeable of his brother than he was. In fact, he was starting to wonder if you knew more about him than he ever did.

“Well, shit,” he said. “Looks like little Daryl’s made himself into a regular Prince Charming. Seems like just yesterday he was gettin’ wasted off moonshine and pissin’ himself in the drunk tank. Had to bail his drunk ass out with my drug money. Little shit.”

You blinked in confusion. That didn’t sound like your Daryl, but he always said he got into trouble when he was younger. “When was that?” you asked, curious to hear any stories Daryl hadn’t told you.

Merle smiled at your intrigue. “Kid was about… seventeen.”

You shifted your shoulders as you adjusted Judith in your arms, then stood again to gently put her back in her crib. “If I engage in conversation with you,” you started to say, “do you promise not to be an asshole?”

“Depends what ya mean by ‘asshole.’”

“I mean… don’t say offensive things.”

“Depends what you mean by ‘offensive.’”

You sighed and shook your head as you sat back down. Ignoring his last comment, you asked, “What was Daryl like growing up?”

Merle’s eyes widened at that, and he broke out into a boisterous chuckle. “What was Daryl like?” You nodded. “Oh, man… Well, sweetheart, Daryl was somethin’ else.”

“What does that mean?”

Merle’s laugh subsided, and he could tell by the curiosity on your face that you were serious. You wanted to know about Daryl’s life from Merle’s perspective. After all, he was the only family from the world before Daryl had left, and as much as you hated to admit it, you still occasionally clung to that world. You found yourself wishing you’d met Daryl before all this, though ultimately, you were happy to have met him at all. In any case, the past fascinated you, and your curiosity was always a force to be reckoned with.

In a matter of moments, Merle began to straighten as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to dust off the old memories that had lain dormant in the derelict attic of his mind.

“See, Daryl’s ten years younger than me. Hell, I remember the day he was born… He was a mistake. My mom, she wanted to, ya know, get rid of him ‘fore he was born, but that kinda thing wasn’t looked upon kindly. Matter of fact, she was hopin’ for a girl. She was so sure it was gonna be a girl. Then Daryl popped out. Imagine how surprised she was. ‘That ain’t no damn girl,’ she said.”

You smiled at the way Merle told the story. Imagining baby Daryl was quite amusing, too. You were sure he was adorable.

“When I held him for the first time, he squirmed and cried… He was so little.” Merle’s eyes trailed to baby Judith in her crib, who was nodding off to the sound of Merle’s voice, much softer than usual. In a way, it reminded you of Daryl’s, and once again you were reminded that they were brothers. “I think it was that same year, this Hall & Oates song came out. I dunno, but Mom named him Daryl, ‘cause she liked it so much.”

Your eyes widened, as did your smile. “Daryl Hall? He’s named after Daryl Hall?”

“Mhm… And my dad liked Merle Haggard.”

You laughed as you stored that information, fully intending to tease Daryl later on.

“First thing I knew about Daryl was that he was a baby. Mom babied him, made him all soft. Daryl could do no wrong… She loved him. Dad didn’t love no one. Cold son of a bitch. Barely looked ya in the eye ‘less it was to smack ya. Started drinkin’ a lot more when Mom died. Daryl was about… five, I was fifteen, off stealin’ whiskey and cigarettes.”

He paused for a moment, shifting in his seat uncomfortably as his face muscles began to tighten. A palpable shift in his demeanor began to manifest itself, and he averted his eyes from you.

“Daryl was a good kid,” he said. “He got into trouble, but he didn’t know nothin’ else. He was a lot younger when Dad started hurtin’ him. I mean, I was gone. I was always gone. Barely knew. It was easier for me to leave, to avoid it. He hurt me, but I was older. I could jus’ leave… Daryl jus’ dealt with it for a while. A long time…”

You knew what Daryl’s father had done to him, how he slashed the skin on his back with a switch from a birch tree. It was hard not to know about it. Daryl’s back was evidence, etched with thick, raised scar tissue. On the rare occasions Daryl talked about it, he would pass it off as if it were nothing, despite your attempts to comfort him in the wake of these traumatic memories. Sometimes you felt that he was too reluctant to let himself feel the weight of his emotions, but you couldn’t say that to him. He needed to come to terms with his past in his own time, his own way.

“He beat me too,” he continued, “but Daryl got it worse. I know that now. Kinda funny, I left ‘fore things got real bad, and yet Daryl turned out better than me. How the hell does that happen?”

You shrugged. “Well, Daryl has a good head on his shoulders.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Knows a good thing when he sees it.”

You looked at him curiously, innocently. “Hm?”

“Talkin’ ‘bout you, Bambi.”

“Oh.”

Me? If you didn’t know any better, it seemed as though Merle was… complimenting you. Not in a crass sexual way, or with a sarcastic remark—it was genuine. You could tell.

“Mhm… You’re good for him.”

You were taken aback, bewildered. Wasn’t this the very same man who accused you of being nothing but a “passing fancy” and “a hole for Daryl to put his dick in” not twenty-four hours ago? Surely you were speaking to a different man.

“Where is that coming from?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I thought you hated me.”

Merle chewed his bottom lip in thought. Another little habit similar to Daryl’s. It was quite surreal. “I don’t know my brother half as well as you do,” he began, “but I knew him ‘fore all this… ‘Fore the world went to shit. He was lost for a real long time, followed me around not knowin’ what else to do. Yesterday, you said he didn’t think for himself, that he was like a puppet. Maybe you’re right. Maybe… maybe that’s what I did to him.”

You lowered your head, slightly ashamed of your words, though you meant every bit of them. From what Daryl had told you, you had always gleaned that Merle manipulated him, taking advantage of Daryl’s sensitivity and leading him down paths that weren’t good for him. You might not have known Daryl for as long as Merle, but you knew that Daryl was much more emotionally fragile than he seemed at the outset, and that people like Merle could easily take advantage of him. Of course, Daryl wasn’t completely innocent in his actions, but you always felt that he was much more himself these days, without the influence of his brother. You only hoped that Merle being here wouldn’t deter his progress.

“But you,” he continued, “you brought somethin’ outta him.”

You shook your head in denial. “No, it was all of us. This group, we’re family. We all changed each other. But Daryl… he’s always been good. I believe that. When he saved me from that walker in the woods, that day I took you both to our camp, I knew he was good. It wasn’t me, he just needed the opportunity to be good.” He needed to get away from you, was what you really wanted to say, but perhaps that would be a little too harsh for the moment.

He chuckled under his breath, amused by the thought of his kid brother being so good. “You really love my brother, don’t you, girl?”

Your cheeks became flushed with red, despite your confidence in that answer. You loved him so much it scared you. You loved his heart, his mind, his body, his soul… Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe him. The short time you’d been together in this world felt like centuries, though time moved faster these days—a year was like a decade. That year you spent with him was fraught with fear and blood and death and every other unholy thing you could think of, but all that paled in comparison to the deep, profound love you had for him. It kept you going on particularly dark days, and held your hand when the light seemed so far away that you couldn’t see in front of you.

His love was the last beautiful relic of a time when love was all too often taken for granted. His love was unending and unwavering, even when death loomed at every corner and threatened to rid the world of every last ounce of happiness. His love was sweet, pure, sincere, almost unfathomable in its depth.

When your love met with his, it was the closest thing you could get to a dream in this terrible nightmare of a world. So yes, you did love him. Very, very much.

“Yes,” you said clearly, not wanting to be mistaken. “I love Daryl very much.”

He was silent for a while, as if processing the information. He knew you loved him, though, just as much as he knew Daryl loved you. What disturbed him was a newfound kind of protectiveness for his little brother, which he hadn’t felt so much since the little boy was born.

“Would ya hurt him?” he finally asked, eyes boring deep into yours. “Would ya break his heart?”

The man continued to bewilder you, and for a few moments, you had no idea what to say, though you knew exactly what the answer was.

“No,” you said. “No, never. I’d never hurt him.”

Merle nodded solemnly, though with a vague sense of trust. “He’s been hurt a lot. By my dad, by me… See the way he looks at ya, Bambi. Nothin’s ever made him this happy. Tell ya the truth, I don’t think he’s ever been happy. Not till you. Saw it at the quarry, too. You had him in the palm of your little hand since the moment he saw ya, I knew it. Jus’ didn’t think you’d last long enough for him to realize it.”

You thought for a moment, still trying to fully process Merle’s words. “Well,” you finally said, “Daryl means everything to me. Breaking his heart would break mine.”

“So we got ourselves an understanding then?”

“Understanding?”

“Yeah. You hurt my little brother, you answer to me.”

Your slight fear of Merle kicked in, sending a brief shiver up your spine. Though you wondered if Merle really cared about Daryl, you couldn’t help but take his warning seriously.

“I still don’t like you, Merle,” you said abruptly, trying to regain your confidence. “If you’re going to live here, and hang around Daryl, I have a few ground rules, too.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hand and his blade hand behind his head. “Lay ‘em on me, sugar tits.”

You scoffed, glowering at him. “First of all, don’t call me that. And you need to stop sexualizing everything. It makes me and Daryl very uncomfortable.”

“Damn, you’re no fun at all.”

“Just be respectful,” you said. “Boundaries.”

Merle shook his head, and you could tell he hardly knew the meaning of that word. “You done usin’ those big college words now? Think I liked you better when you didn’t talk so much.”

Your lip tightened as you pulled a mean glare, rising from your seat to return your axe to its place on the loop of your belt. You then picked up Judith, planning on taking her to Beth before your watch shift started. “Get used to it.”

It was an uneventful shift, with no signs of the Governor or his army on the horizon, giving you time to think about the new situation. Merle wasn’t going anywhere for the time being, and you had to accept that. Everyone did. No one liked him, and you were sure even Daryl didn’t particularly like him, but that was Daryl’s brother, and the only part of his family he had left. You found it hard to understand Daryl’s devotion to him, considering Merle had abandoned him as a child, but you didn’t need to understand—the point was that Daryl wanted him here, and you loved Daryl.

Relationships sometimes require sacrifice, you knew that. Perhaps this was the first sacrifice you’d have to make for Daryl, and though it came with being irritated by Merle’s bigoted presence, you told yourself that from now on, you would pick your battles wisely, only fighting with Merle when you deemed it necessary. Perhaps Daryl himself would soon grow tired of Merle, but until that time, you’d stick it out for him. Only for him.

You hadn’t even seen Daryl yet that day, except for a few times from a distance as you stood in the guard tower. In a running joke, you raised your binoculars to spy on him, watching him help Glenn with the reinforcements to ensure the prison was strong against any threat, namely the Governor.

When he felt your eyes on him, he raised his hand to his forehead, blocking the sunlight from his sensitive blue eyes. “Get back to work, woman!” he yelled up at you from the ground.

“You first!” you called back, still watching him through your binoculars. “That barricade isn’t going to make itself, Dixon!”

He scoffed and shook his head, though his slight smirk betrayed his amusement at your teasing. Fully intending on getting you back in some way, he paused to remove his jacket and vest, revealing his bare arms. With narrowed eyes, you adjusted your binoculars to more clearly display his toned muscles, gleaming with sweat in the afternoon sunlight. As he lifted the large wooden pallet, you studied the flexed tendons and bulging muscles all along his tan, impossibly large arms.

When he finished moving it to block the entrance to D Block, he dusted off his gloved hands and shook the dark caramel bangs from his face, looking back up at you with a subtle, teasing wink, and a slight purse of his lips as he sent you a little kiss. Maybe you were still a little mad with him for going off with Merle, but how could you really be mad at him?

“Baby,” you quietly giggled to yourself, dangling your legs playfully over the edge of the guard tower. “Mm… You’re such a tease, baby.”

Your shift ended shortly thereafter, and when Maggie relieved you of your post, you helped Beth take care of the baby, teaching her how to properly get the little one to sleep. After helping Carol with dinner, you retreated to a small patch of wild blue violets, where you sat cross-legged against the wall of the prison, watching the begin to set.

Spring afternoons were pleasant in Georgia. The air was still cool from winter, but not unbearable, not at all. Overgrown violets and weeds surrounded you, and the dead were far off somewhere else, behind that chain-link fence upon which you relied so heavily. The Governor had torn down the furthest fence, but the one closest to the prison still remained, and though the future remained uncertain, you felt yourself let go for a moment, leaning your head back against the brick wall and letting out a deep sigh.

The silent moment was broken by the snap of a twig, sending your eyes wide open as your gaze whipped towards the sound. Daryl stood peering around the corner, his hand curled around the edge of the brick wall. His lip quirked upwards in a slight smile, which you returned.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Hi…” He looked towards the setting sun for a moment, then slowly made his way to you, careful not to trample over the delicate purple flowers. “Ain’t ya gonna have dinner?” He slid down the wall to sit beside you, tucking his knees to his chest.

“Later,” you replied. “You know I like watching the sunset.”

“Yeah,” he said. “And I like watchin’ you watch it.” You laughed under your breath and bumped his shoulder with yours. “S’true. Beautiful…”

“Me?”

“Mhm. You.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?”

“I try to be.”

“Hm, well, that’s more than I can say for your brother…” You trailed off, palming your forehead when you realized what you’d said. “God, sorry. I, um… I talked to him today.”

He nodded solemnly, though with affirmative confidence. “I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Told me so, while you were in the tower. Told me a lot of things.”

“Great,” you sighed. “What did he tell you?”

“Told me that ya love me,” he said. “But I already knew that.”

You smiled with rosy cheeks, a little embarrassed that Daryl now knew you told Merle you loved him. After all, Daryl was quite private with that kind of thing, and you knew he liked to maintain a certain image, especially with his brother, who would have no qualms with calling him “Darylina” if the occasion called for it.

“Did he tell you anything else?”

He scoffed as he recalled Merle’s words. “Said I oughtta take real good care of you, ‘cause you’re special.”

“He did not,” you laughed. “You’re so making that up.”

“I’m not,” he replied. “Well, he also said you got a big mouth.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “Asshole.”

“Yeah… but I think he’s startin’ to like you,” he said. “I know you don’t like him, and I don’t expect ya to, but what matters to me is that he likes you.”

You furrowed your brow and smiled in your amused curiosity. “Why does that matter?”

He shrugged, and of course he had a very practical reason for wanting Merle to like you. “‘Cause I need to know he’ll keep ya safe if somethin’ happens to me.”

Your face softened into a quivering pout, yet your eyes smiled at his sweet words. “Oh, baby,” you laughed, scooting closer to grab his hand and place it in your lap. “That’s sweet… But nothing’s going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

He tilted his head while reaching out to hold your cheek in the rough palm of his worn hand. You leaned into his touch almost immediately, closing your eyes as you rubbed your cheek against him. His body was always so warm, every single part of it. When he held your cheek, you always felt particularly adored, like that was the greatest kind of physical affection a human being was capable of showing. Of course, you had known much greater, more intimate pleasures with him, but that gentle caress of your cheek was something else entirely.

“But if somethin’ does happen,” he said, “I told Merle that he better take care of you, make sure nothin’ happens to you. S’all I really need from him, just to know you’d be all right.”

“And what did he say when you told him that?”

Daryl shook his head. “You really wanna know?”

“Mhm.”

“He said he’d be sure to take real good care of you…” Daryl repeated the sentence much in the same way Merle would, so you knew exactly what he meant.

“Oh,” you frowned, shaking your head. “He’s such a pervert. How are you even related to a guy like that?”

Daryl’s other hand came around you, gripping your shoulder and pulling you closer until his lips could connect to the space where your neck and your shoulders meet. When his tongue lapped at your skin, his lips suctioning sloppily in between licks, you let out a boisterous laugh. “Daryl! Mm… You’re a pervert, too…”

Your hand came up to lace through his hair, massaging his scalp as his mouth pampered you, inching up your neck until his outstretched tongue slid along your jawline, tickling you with his stubble.

He pulled away slowly, then nuzzled his nose against your heated cheek. You felt his breath near your lips, and all you wanted was to feel his mouth on yours, for as long as possible. Forever, ideally.

“Also told him to cool it. He says shit like that to you, you tell me. I’ll kick his ass,” he said. “I aint tryin’ to make excuses for him, but Merle… he only really knows how to talk to prostitutes.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better,” you laughed. “Are you saying I’m a prostitute, Daryl?”

“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head, and by extension rubbing his nose side-to-side against your cheek, making you giggle. “You’re just a beautiful woman, and Merle ain’t ever seen a woman like you.”

You rolled your eyes and snorted at the assumption that you were anything special, but you knew Daryl thought you were special, and apparently Merle did, too. “Well, he better get used to me,” you said, turning to match your lips up to his. “Because I’m going to be around for a long time.”

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 8 months

Text

Rough Day?: Dante x Male Reader

SUMMARY: Dante comes home from a job and just needs some love; which you happen to be the best--and only--supplier he goes to… however, you are too blind to notice how he feels.

BEGINNING NOTES: >Dante x Male Reader* >Unestablished relationship; >Dante is obviously flirting with you and you aren’t getting the hint--like REALLY painfully obvious and you are just oblivious.* >Fluff: Dante is a big cuddly softy--I really just needed something sweet. 🐻🧸🐻 >The reader isn’t a devil hunter but rather a secretary for the shop; handling paperwork and is on the shorter side* >Dante and you share some wine--I know nothing about wine so I just Googled what wine goes well with pizza and read about it lmfao >Although I don’t explicitly say what movie, I wrote this with the movie “xXx” in mind (2002: it's an action movie with Vin Diesel; it is not a porno even though it sounds like it lmfao)--it has a red lingerie scene. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a great movie--it’s as old as I am but it’s fucking great. One of my childhood favorites; highkey wanted Xander’s xXx neck tattoo--and still kind of do tbh lmao 🧸🐻🧸 *This is a bit self-indulgent and relates to me a bit more than normal. To be 100% honest I haven’t been in the best place and I need some soft stuff hence the male reader. It’s also why the requests are taking so damn long, I just hit writer's block and am having a downward swing again lol Sorry for the inconvenience! I should hopefully break out of this soon ;))

The sound of the garage door opening made you look up from the mound of paperwork you were currently nose-deep in. With a small smile, you stood up to go see who was visiting; however, you were quickly stopped by a tall muscular roadblock. Said roadblock slumped over and placed his forehead on your shoulder.

"Welcome home… Rough day, huh?" You lovingly placed a hand on his back, rubbing small circles into his jacket.

Dante nodded against you, “It was a complete shit show and Vergil was crabby…”

“Mmn, I’m sorry,” you grabbed his hand with your free one, squeezing it slightly, “Why don’t you go shower--I’ll order dinner and we can watch a movie.”

The red devil leaned up and gave you a soft smile, his eyes creasing at the edges, "You sure? You seem busy."

You laughed and rolled your eyes, placed a forearm on your forehead, leaning back dramatically, "Oh no-- I have to stop filling out your back taxes; what a pity…”

Dante laughed softly and pulled you close, with you still leaning backwards, “Such a shame, I know how much you love paperwork.”

Your shoulder hit his chest and he took the opportunity to nuzzle himself against your exposed throat. The feeling of his stubble scraping along your neck made you squirm in his grasp, laughing loudly, “Hey-- Stop that- that tickles, Dante-!”

“Oh? Does it now?” The red devil snuggly nuzzled the side of his jaw into you, a broad smile tugging at his features at the sound of your laughter.

“You’re---- You’re gonna get me dirty--”

“Mmn,” he stopped and you pivoted to face him, “Then you can shower with me…”

You laughed brightly and, despite your previous statement of him being grungy, you hid your face in his chest attempting to hide your flustered expression, “In your dreams, Dante.”

He wrapped his arms around you, kneading your back with his fingers, “Sometimes~”

“Perve!” You laughed harder as you shoved his shoulder playfully.

The two of you stood there for a few moments, Dante loudly purring against you, and enjoying your closeness. Nonchalantly you slid your face up to his shoulder, which he eagerly leaned down for. After a moment, you placed your face against the side of his and gently pushed against him. With a happy sigh, you ran your fingers through his hair but stopped quickly upon noticing the gore within his white strands--that was now all over your hand, “Alright, mister, go shower and we can continue this later.”

He leaned up slowly and stuck out his lower lip in a pout, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“Uh-uh, no-” you turned from him, closing your eyes, “I am not falling for that; Last time we had to get a new couch because of how dirty you were and the shop smelt like a rotten butcher shop for a week.”

“Alright, alright,” Dante smiled and cupped your cheek with one hand, slowly thumbing over your face, “I’ll be back in a jif, babe," he moved his hand to your chin, holding it with his thumb and forefinger for a moment before slowly letting go, hustling out of the kitchen.

"Hey, make sure you’re actually clean-! Damn it…” Your words fell upon deaf ears as you listened to the creak of the stairs from him jogging up them. With a wistful sigh, you smiled softly, “What a dork.”

After washing your hands with soap and bleach, you left the kitchen and went over to Dante’s desk. As per usual, you dialed up the local pizza parlor and within two rings they picked up.

“Dante!” The voice of a jolly old man echoed through the phone, “How’s my best customer?”

You laughed, “Sorry, Dante’s showering right now; it’s--”

“Ah, it’s Dante’s husband! How are you?”

A fiery feeling filled your face as you sputtered out, “Dante’s what?”

“Don’t worry, I'm fine with you being gay! Dante always struck me as a fruity guy, even back when he first started-”

You let out an awkward laugh, “We aren’t- Dante and I aren’t even dating,” You let out another laugh, however, the longing feeling from earlier returned, "Let alone married."

"Oh! Sorry, just with the way you two act…” The old man paused momentarily before clearing his throat, “Anyways, you want the usual?”

“Yes, please. Can we get that delivered?”

“Oh? Sure thing. It’ll be there in--” There was a short pause with incoherent yelling between the old man and someone else before he returned to you, “Be there in about 10 minutes, alright?”

“Yup! Thanks so much! Have a great night, Pops!”

“You too, kid, bye!”

“Bye!”

As you hung up the phone, you slumped back into the desk chair, replaying the conversation. Did he really think that Dante and you were lovers? How many others at that shop had the same idea? You bit your lip in thought. Was it that obvious that you had a crush on him?

With a groan, you leaned forward, placing your elbows on the desk and your face in your hands. Does Dante know how you feel? As you mulled over things, you lost track of time and never even heard Dante descend the stairs or realize he was right beside you.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You flinched at the sudden noise to your right and jolted up out of the chair.

Dante was standing with a casual lean to his posture and a tilt of his head, obviously curious about your odd behavior. Your eyes widened at the shirtless devil and his half-lidded lazy smile. Currently, he was in just a pair of baggy black sweatpants… and that was it. His hands were neatly tucked into his pockets, inadvertently pulling down the waistband of well-worn clothing which gave you a tasteful peak at his strawberry print boxers. Although he was mostly dry, you could still see water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders and chest; which made your stare wander down from his eyes.

Noticing your straying eyes, Dante’s smile turned to a sultry smirk, “Like what you see, baby~?” He flexed his pecs and winked, watching your blush darken.

“Huh?! What- No- I wasn’t-- It’s just,” you shakily gestured to his chest, “You’re wet--”

“Not yet I’m not,” He winked as his tilted posture deepened.

You sputtered out gibberish as you stiffened.

Dante leaned closer and tilted his head, cupping the side of your face, “You know, you're pretty cute when you're all flustered and speechless.”

As you turned into his palm, you let out an embarrassed laugh, “Yeah right, sure Dante.”

“I’m serious,” he leaned up with a wide toothy grin, “You’re like a…” With a pause and a squint in thought, he snapped his free hand’s fingers, “A cow!”

“Hey!” You leaned away from his hand, placing your hands on your hips, “Rude.”

“Eh?” Dante stuck a lip out in confusion, “What? You don’t find ‘em cute or somethin’?”

“Dante… When you call someone a “cow” you’re calling them fat and ugly.”

His eyes widened, “Since when?”

You shook your head and sighed, “That insult has been around for literal centuries.”

Panicked that he may have upset you, he stumbled over his words as he tried to fix his words, “I didn’t mean for it to be insulting! Cows are my favorite animal and-”

"Oh trust me, cowboy, I know they are," you shook your head with a laugh and broke eye contact with him.

Suddenly, you felt a large set of arms around you and your head was against a warm chest. Dante set his head atop yours and mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you; I just think you’re really cute and I couldn’t think of anything I find cuter than a cow. I--”

“Dante,” you sighed and pushed against him lovingly with your head, resting your cheek against him, “You don’t have to apologize.”

As you layed upon him, enjoying the brief and rare moment of peace, you found yourself relaxing into his hold. The smell of his body wash-- the low consistent beating of his heart-- the warm heat his body gave off-- all wrapped up into a large affectionate package. A package that you could only dream about allowing you to stay this close for the rest of your days.

To be able to place your sleeve rather than your cheek. To tell him exactly what you have been yearning for many years.

But those are childish thoughts and nothing more than a dream. Someday, Dante will find a wife and leave this godforsaken business and live a happy life; all while you watch from the side and cheer him on from a distance.

His arms tightened around you and he began to purr lightly, “When we retire, we should buy a farm.”

You raised a brow, “What, you still need me with you to do your taxes or something?”

As he laughed, you felt his chest reverberate with each noise, “I need you for a lot more than that, babe.”

“Mhm, sure you do,” you sighed and turned your head, placing your forehead against his chest.

Before Dante could respond, a loud knock came from the front door. Excitedly, he let go of you and smiled widely, “I’ll get it.”

As he took care of the payment for the pizza, you wandered into the kitchen to grab plates. A small sigh left your lips as you looked at the empty place where the paper plates go, knowing the replacements are on the top shelf--a shitty result of having a behemoth of a housemate. With pursed lips, you stood on your tip toes and tried to stretch up to reach the desired item.

Just as you were about to go get a chair to stand on, you felt a set of large hands grab your waist and pick you up. A surprised squeak left your lips and you whipped your head around to see a smiling Dante. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the plates. Carefully, Dante placed you back on the ground and backed up a bit.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him and grabbed a plate, handed it to him, then grabbed one for yourself.

After Dante placed two full glasses of Malbec on the table, you sat in adjacent corner chairs--facing at an angle to see one another. There was a comfortable silence between you as you ate; well, save for the quiet happy humming that came from Dante as he ate. As you watched him, you smiled warmly. It’s times like these that make you forget how dangerous Dante actually is. How he could rip you limb to limb if he felt so inclined. With a shake of your head, you returned to eating, shoving those frightening thoughts down.

After some time, Dante leaned towards you and placed an elbow on the table, “So you never did tell me why you were sitting for like ten minutes with that weird expression after you ordered.”

“Oh! It’s nothin’.”

“Mmhmm,” Dante smiled as he took another bite of food, “Okay, let me rephrase that:” He gestured mindlessly with his hand, “I overheard your half of the call from upstairs and was wondering what Pops said to you that got you so worked up.”

“Nothin’ important-!” Your answer was very abrupt as your face began to heat up again, which Dante noticed.

“Come on~ It had to be something; I can ask Pops if you--”

“No! Don’t, please,” you pursed your lips and avoided his eyes.

His brow furrowed, “He didn’t say anything bad to you, did he?”

“What? No! That man couldn’t say an evil thing if you held him at gunpoint.”

“Then what?”

“Just…” You paused with a shake of your head before sheepishly mumbling, “He called me your husband.”

Dante finished chewing and placed his slice down, “Really?”

With a nod and a drink, you nodded, “Yup…”

His voice took a more serious tone as he looked you in the eyes, “Does that… bother you?”

You shook your head ‘no’, avoiding his eyes, “Was unexpected is all…”

The red devil laughed and went to grab his drink, but missed the glass and knocked it over.

“Dante-!” You shot up from your seat and looked down at yourself. The glass thankfully hadn’t smashed and was still on the tabletop; however, the red wine had been spilled all over your shirt and pants, soaking straight through everything you had on.

“Shit, sorry!” Dante stood up as well and attempted to dry you off with some napkins he grabbed from the table, continuing to apologize.

You instantly became flustered as you realized what Dante was doing and where his hands were, “That’s not helping--” You caught eyes with him and he noticed your expression.

“Well,” he stood back up, placing a hand on his hip, “I could just use my tou--”

“I’m going to shower!” You cut him off and scuttled out of the room, ignoring the growing fluttery feeling in your chest, and didn't hear Dante’s dejected sigh.

As you were bathing, Dante cleaned up the kitchen. He put the half-eaten pizza in the fridge and then saw your wine glass was still half-full. With a casual shrug, he finished it off and placed the two glasses in the sink. Slowly, he meandered out into the living room to set up the TV when he got an idea.

Your shower was rather quick, being in and out of the bathroom within less than five minutes. With a small hum, you dried off, got dressed in some clean wine-free clothing, and left the room. Only to run straight into a certain white-haired man’s chest, making you jump with a startled shout.

“Wha-!” You stared at him for a moment before raising a brow at him, “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” the look he gave you was reminiscent of a happy puppy, making you mindlessly reach up to pat the top of his head.

Dante leaned down and placed his head on your shoulder, purring softly from your touch. His hands wrapped around your back, finding purchase on the small of your back, and he took a deep slow inhale. Although he’d never say it out loud, he found your scent to be rather comforting and relaxing. The two of you stood there for a moment before he leaned back.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh no,” you stared at him, “What did you do?”

With a lip stuck out with a disingenuous frown, “Why do you assume it’s a bad thing?”

“Dante,” you slid your hands down his arms and rested on his biceps, “Last time you said you “I have a surprise” I came home to the shop doors through the stairs and a tarp for a front door…”

He laughed and buried his face in your neck, taking on a playfully sarcastic tone, “That was fun~! It made the shop nice and drafty.”

“Maybe for you Mister hot-blooded but it was for like a month in the dead of winter. I froze my ass off--”

Dante grabbed your ass harshly, “Nope, it’s still there.”

You shoved him playfully and rolled your eyes.

He leaned back up, “Now, can I show you the surprise?”

With a nod, you sighed happily, “Alright, what-- Hey!”

Instantly your feet were off the ground and he was holding you from underneath your legs; you then wrapped yourself around him, fearing he’d drop you. A large smile adorned his face as he walked down to his room, opened the door, and tossed you onto the nearby bed. He turned to shut the door and when he looked back at you, he saw that your eyes were wide and heard how fast your heart was beating; which caused his smile to take a more sultry turn.

Dante gestured towards the foot of the bed, where he had moved his bedside table and placed the TV on top of, “Figure it’s a little more comfortable than the couch.”

“G-gotcha,” you shook your head and smiled, laying on your stomach to face the screen.

He moved towards the mattress then jumped onto it, laying right beside you, “Don’t worry, I picked out a great movie--”

“If we are watching the same fucking movie-- I swear to god--”

“But it’s so good!”

“I think I know every goddamned word by now.”

Dante looked at you with his bottom lip stuck out, giving you his infamous puppy eyes.

“No-- nu-uh--” You looked away from him and took a long deep breath, “Dante-- For fucks sake--”

Dante whimpered softly, making you turn back to him, and found yourself met with the red devil’s bright turquoise eyes and his brow upturned into a pout. With a wistful sigh, you shook your head and laughed, “I hate when you give me those eyes-- Fine, we can watch your movie.”

He flashed you a wide toothy grin and reached out to grab the remote from the table, turning on the flick.

Bit by bit, Dante slid to lay right beside you, his body tightly tucked against yours. Slowly, he leaned his head onto your shoulder, growing sleepier with each passing minute. However, he managed to stay awake and watch the movie.

Around an hour in, a scene came on that showed various women in scarcely any clothing; ending in a climactic scene where the main lead climbs into bed with a woman dressed in red lingerie.

Dante rolled onto his side, looking at you with half-lidded eyes as he spoke in a low sultry voice, “I should buy you a set like that, bet you’d look hot.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes went wide, “H-huh?!”

He placed a hand on your bicep and slowly began to rub his thumb against you, “I mean, I know that the bra might be a little much; but the panties would be worth it at the very least.”

“Dante---- Dante,” you turned to him, your face burning, “Why on Earth would you want me in that?”

“You’d look hot; what other reason would I need?” He flashed you a warm suggestive smirk.

“I mean,” you looked away with a small huff, mumbling, “Wouldn’t you want someone you’re dating wearing it?”

Dante’s smile faded as he removed his hand, “What?”

You continued to mumble, refusing to look back at him, “You know like someone you’re attracted to..?”

The red devil blankly stared at you for a moment before he grabbed the remote and hit the stop button several times before dropping it somewhere onto the floor, then slid off the foot of the bed.

Your eyes slowly turned to face him, “Dante..?”

He pushed the ‘off’ button on the TV and turned back to face you, "Look," his voice was quiet and he looked defeated, unable to look you in the eyes, as he took a few steps closer to stand in front of you, "I know our dates aren't anything fancy or- or high quality but--"

“What-?” You swung your legs around to sit at the edge of the bed, “Our-- huh?”

His expression changed from a kicked puppy to a blank dumbfounded stare as his eyes met with your gaze, “Our dates.”

You pursed your lips and shook your head, “What are you talkin’ about Dante..?”

“Our dates--” He leaned down to look you dead in the eyes, bracing himself with his hands on either side of you against the bed, “You feelin’ alright?”

“We aren’t--”

“We’ve been going out for almost a year,” he pursed his lips, “I asked you out like a month after comin’ home…”

With a confused tilt of your head, you furrowed your brow, “I don’t remember.”

“After Verge and I returned home, I didn’t want to…” He shrugged one shoulder with a small half-hearted laugh, “To miss out on my chance with you, so I asked you out. We went to the zoo, remember?”

With a slightly furrowed brow, you did your best to try and remember that day. Dante was nearly welded to you during that outing; between holding your hand or having an arm snugly wrapped around your waist, he was very overly physical with you. Until now, you’d just brushed it off, thinking that Dante was just sick of being so touch-starved and you gladly gave him what he wanted.

Admittedly, it was a two-way street, you wanted to be just as close to him as he was providing. From small things like morning hugs or more intense things like him placing a kiss on your forehead every once in a while, it was such an unexpected but welcomed experience. However, without him outright stating things, you didn’t think he meant anything of it; refusing to believe someone like him would be with someone like you.

You laughed, catching Dante off guard, and placed the top of your head against his chest, “I didn’t realize you meant a literal “date”.” A blush spread across your face as you stared at the floor, taking a quieter meeker tone, “I wish I had known that you-- that we were…”

“Does it bother you? I mean if you don’t feel that way, I won’t force you to--”

“Dante…” You closed your eyes with a shy laugh, your voice growing quieter and quieter with each word, “I just wished that I’d known the guy I’ve been into for years has the same feelings back… That’s all.”

He paused for a moment, listening to the quickening pacing of your heart, before softly setting his hands on your shoulders causing you to look back at him. Although Dante’s gaze is always softer when it comes to you; right now, his stare seems even gentler than normal. His brow was relaxed and he had a lazy smile tugging at his lips with a very faint purr emanating from his throat. Bit by bit, the two of you moved closer and shared a tender innocent kiss.

When he and you pulled apart, a smile tugged at Dante’s face at your flustered appearance, “You know,” he laughed, placing his forehead on your shoulder, “I just thought you were taking things at a snail's pace, babe.”

“I- I didn’t know- I would’ve-” You shook your head, unable to come up with a cohesive sentence.

Using your flustered mindset to his advantage, Dante moved to sit on and straddle your lap. With wide eyes, you stared up at the smiling man. Cautiously, you ran a hand up his middle, making note of his skin felt underneath your fingertips. Even though you’d briefly touched his torso before, this was an entirely different ballpark. Your hand made its way to his neck and you very gently thumbed over his throat.

Once your hand was on the side of his face, you felt a sudden nervous feeling begin to spread throughout your limbs; you’d wanted to kiss him again but found yourself hesitant to ask. Thankfully, Dante was far from reluctant.

The red devil leaned down and kissed you again, your hand still cupping the side of his face. These kisses were longer and more impassioned. Your hands clasped around the back of his neck, as he grabbed your waist allowing him to lean you backwards. A smile tugged at his lips as he began to bite at your lower lip, taking great care not to puncture your kiss-swollen flesh. Then he made his way down your jaw and to your neck, relishing in your uneven heavy breaths.

As he nipped at your neck, you slid a hand into his hair and grabbed the back of his head as you arched your back. Dante took this as an okay to bite a little harder, leaving a loving mark. When he was done, he set his forehead on the front side of your shoulder, laughing softly.

“What’s up?” You raised a brow at his odd reaction.

Dante’s voice was quiet, “I just really love you, so damned much.”

A very small droplet of water hit your chest as you realized why he didn’t return to your gaze.

“I love you too Dante,” You wrapped yourself around him, tightly squeezing him, “I have for a long time.”

He copied your action, wrapping himself around you. Another laugh left his lips as he sniffled, placing his head beside yours. As you layed intertwined, you both began to drift off to sleep; staying interwoven until morning, a feeling you’d both yearned to experience for much too long.

ENDING NOTES: Cows are really cute and if you disagree, you’re wrong lmao. If you’ve ever pet a calf you’ll know they are just so cute and ugHHH (I was raised on a farm, we didn’t have cows but I did get to see them a lot because of family-related stuff; so I am biased over farm animals a bit. Plus it fits Dante’s DMC 4 cowboy vibe lmao) 🐻🧸🐻 Was gonna make this a smut fic. but I just wasn’t vibing with it so it kind of ends abruptly, sorry lol

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

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#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc #dante #dante devil may cry #devil may cry dante #dante x reader #dante x male reader #x reader #x male reader #oneshot #fluff #sorry this is a little rusty #been in a funk lately so I'm trying lmao #This has been in my drafts since like the beginning of August #and I was originally trying to have this done for my birthday on Aug 27th #but that obviously didn't work out lmaoo

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winterrrnight · 1 month

Text

“the blue in your eyes” — new beginnings chapter IV

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe cameron x mom!reader

WARNINGS: n/a

EDITH SPEAKS: I am so so sorry for the break I took with updating this! I'll try to be much more regular now <3 <3 please reblog if you enjoyed this and share all your thoughts 💞😊 I am sorry if this feels super boring right now but honestly it wasn't ever really meant to really interesting either 😭😭

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It’s been over one week since Sage joined Rafe’s class. You've noticed the big increase in her happiness; she comes home with a big grin gracing her face, and she proudly shows you her art pieces and small arithmetic and alphabet assignments she did with a huge good star adorning almost each one of them.

“Mamma look, Fafe gave me a star!” She would tell you, jumping around as you look at the star, along with the ‘very well done!’ written next to it.

You’re on your way to pick her up from the school, after finishing up with your own work. As you walk inside the school, you notice Rafe, Sage, and the rest of her classmates sitting in the grass in a circle. You can hear the little children giggling and Rafe laughing along with them. You can't help but smile at the sight; watching Rafe being extremely sweet with the children, always praising them when they do the little things right.

“Okay Sage it’s your turn,” Rafe smiles, handing her a football. “What do you love most?”

“My mamma!” She says, without hesitating even for a second. You softly gasp as you hear those words come from her mouth, deciding to stay here just for a moment more to see how this conversation unfolds.

“And what do you love about her?” Rafe asks her next, the smile still tugging on the corners of Rafe’s lips.

“She is pretty,” Sage sighs. “and she makes me happy.”

Hearing Sage not only call you pretty, but say you make her happy has tears pricking your eyes quickly. A soft smile takes over your face as you watch how Sage glows talking about you, her sweet grin never leaving her, and her little pigtails bouncing when she nods her head. These are the moments when you realize how lucky you are to have Sage in your life.

In the next few minutes Rafe wraps up the class and more parents appear to pick up their children. As Sage spots you, she comes rushing you and clutches onto your legs, hugging them tightly.

“Hey baby,” you smile, bending down to her level as you press a kiss to her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She looks up at you and nods her head, a grin on her face. Although you can see she’s feeling tired, her eyes droopy and yawns escaping her lips. “Good day,” she smiles at you, and hugs you. You hug her back, his head nuzzling in your neck. You laugh as you pick her up, her resting on your hip. Just as you get up, you see Rafe looking at you from a distance. You can't help but smile at him, and he waves at you.

A few seconds pass and you’re still looking at him, a smile persistent on your face. Sage’s body relaxes in your arms, and you see she’s almost asleep. You give Rafe a small nod of your head and walk back to where your car is parked.

You set Sage in her car seat, her now being completely asleep. As you close her door, you turn around to see Rafe walking to you.

“Hey,” you smile at him as he approaches you.

“Hi,” he says back, a similar smile on his face. You take a moment to look in his bright blue eyes, the light shining on them to make them seem even brighter than usual.

He takes a look into the car window, seeing the small resting body of Sage. “She’s very smart, you know? And a bright ray of sunshine,” he says, smiling fondly at her.

“I wouldn’t doubt that, she absolutely adores you,” I say. “She comes back home each day with a huge smile on her face,” I sigh, my smile not leaving my face.

“She is just… such a beautiful addition to the class,” Rafe says softly. A moment of silence passes over you two as you steal a glance at Sage in your car, her resting deeply in her seat. The cotton floss clouds slowly shift in the sky, small streaks of golden, hazy sunlight falling on you two.

Just for a second, you see the sunlight strike across Rafe’s eyes, and they seem a brighter blue than usual. Not the usual navy blue, but a sapphire blue instead; the pupil seeming even darker. Your own eyes almost widen at the ethereal sight; it seems as if his eyes just changed colors.

“Uh y/n?” Rafe calls softly. You blink yourself out of your daze and let a small smile grace your face, noticing how the sunrays aren’t falling across his eyes anymore and they’ve returned to their usual dark blue.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, you just seemed a little lost there… is everything alright?” He asks, furrowing his brows a little.

And it happens again.

The sunlight falls, and the electric blue appears again. But you try your best to not distract yourself much from it.

“Yeah yeah,” you say, “everything’s alright,”

Silence falls over you two again, but it’s short lived before Rafe speaks again.

“Listen I uh… I wanted to ask you something,” Rafe says. You tilt your head slightly, your brows furrowed slightly.

“Hm?” You hum, wanting him to continue.

He seems to be fumbling with his words, not knowing what to say as his gaze refuses to meet yours, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“I was wondering if…” he takes a deep breath, and you notice his hands are at his back, and your first intuition is that he’s probably fiddling with his fingers the way he seems so flustered. “I was wondering if you’d like to grab some coffee with me sometime…” He says, and his voice fades by the end of the sentence, the words dissolving in the air around you.

The creases in your forehead relax and your eyes widen slightly as you process the words.

You and Rafe. Out for coffee. That sounds like a date…

“I mean, we don’t have to have coffee, we can go to some other place if that’s more of your thing…” he rambles. “We don’t even have to go to some food place, we can go for uh… movies and such, or uh… an art museum maybe…”

You can’t help but softly smile at him. His cheeks tinted with a light pink as he rambles on, listing possible locations of where you can go as his gaze refuses to meet yours. It feels as if you’re a teenager, your first crush asking you out.

“Rafe,” you say softly, and he looks up at you. “The offer is beautiful but…” you take a deep breath, “are you sure it’s okay for you to go out for coffee with a… a parent?”

“Of course it is,” he says almost immediately. “Don’t think of me as your child’s teacher I just… I would love to get to know you better,”

You can’t help but smile at his words. The idea sounds quite nice to you, not to mention how Rafe has caught your eye since you first ever saw him.

Since you ended your marriage, you were busy with raising Sage, leaving you no time to put yourself out there for dating whatsoever. You barely even had time to even make a simple conversation with someone, seeing how you were always busy with either taking care of Sage or your own job.

But this? It feels right.

“Then it’s okay,” you say. “I’ll love to have some coffee with you,”

You can see how Rafe’s eyes light up; metaphorically and literally as the sunlight strikes against them and they turn the sharp electric blue, but it’s only momentary. His lips pull into a grin and he nods at you. “Sounds wonderful,” he says softly.

You acknowledge him with a nod of your own head, and pass on a smile.

This is good. This feels good.

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