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celtic-crossbow · 10 months

Text

Skin You With My Tongue

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, fingering, oral (fem rec), brief hand job

Summary: What has gotten into Daryl? It doesn’t matter because you like it!

A/N: I haven’t been feeling great but I wanted to finish this before taking a break. Then I’ll work on my last request. Once again, I don’t think it’s great but ah well. I’m trying to just be thankful to be writing again. I hope some enjoyment comes from it!

You had no idea how you’d ended up in your current predicament: flat on your back, naked, with an equally naked Daryl Dixon devouring you like a man starved. You weren’t complaining by any stretch of the imagination. Though he had claimed to have little experience, the man deserved medals for the sounds he was wringing out of you with his tongue.

Anyway, back to the question of how did you end up here?

The day had started like any other. Your group was still new to Alexandria. While most had been given jobs, you and Daryl had not yet been set to work by Deanna. So, Rick had easily agreed to letting you both go hunt. Daryl had refused to give up his crossbow when you had first arrived in the community, but you had to sign out a weapon.

“Bullshit.” Daryl growled from where he leaned against the doorframe of the armory. You couldn’t say that you didn’t agree with him.

Regardless, you played by the rules, got your gun, strapped the weapons to the back, and climbed onto Daryl’s bike. He had decided the two of you could go further out today, not having much luck the past couple of days in the direct vicinity.

Daryl was your closest friend in your tight knit group and had been since you all had been forced to wander around in the cold before the prison. He was difficult to read and his emotional walls were high and thick. Somehow, you had been able to scale those walls, if not shatter them completely. You accepted him without question but you didn’t take any shit from him either. You weren’t afraid to call him out. In fact, the first time he had willingly come to sit next to you by the fire was just after you had asked him if he was “violating the Georgia sodomy law by having his head that far up his own ass.” You’d been close ever since.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his stomach and rested your chin on his shoulder, making kissy noises at him when he glanced back at you.

“Stop.” He grumbled before starting up the motorcycle. You simply gave his midsection a squeeze and could practically feel him roll his eyes as you headed through the gate.

The first part of the day was uneventful. Daryl stashed the bike before you walked and walked, finding nothing to track. About midday, the two of you came across a gorgeous lake. The water was clear and having only crossed two walkers on your trek there, you decided that a swim was an excellent idea after lunch. You didn’t ask Daryl, truly figuring he wouldn’t mind and that, hell, maybe he’d even join you.

You didn’t look at him as you stripped down to your bra and panties, mismatched as they were. If you had, you would have seen him comically fumble and drop the piece of dried meat in his hand.

“The blue hell ya doin’, girl?” He snapped after righting himself.

“Cooling off.” You gave him a smile over your shoulder before mimicking his frown with added exaggeration. “Maybe you should do the same, you old grump.”

He scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “You’re bein’ careless. Careless gets ya dead.”

“I’m not going in unprotected!” You spun toward him, drawing his gaze toward you before pointing to the small knife tucked securely between your breasts. You couldn’t help but laugh when his face reddened and he looked away so quickly that you could swear you heard his neck crack. “I won’t be long.”

And you weren’t. Barely twenty minutes later, you were sitting down next to him, fully clothed albeit damp, but feeling much better.

“Ready to head out?” You asked cheerfully.

He did not share your enthusiasm, scowling as he stood and secured his crossbow to his back. “Been ready.”

“Well, aren’t you just a bucket of sunshine?” He had already stalked off by the time you gathered up everything. You had to sprint to catch up.

After a couple of hours, Daryl finally caught the trail of a deer and began tracking it. You followed quietly, watching his methods and learning everything you could. You knew how to hunt, thanks to him, but you were always eager to sharpen your skills. When the animal was finally within sight, the archer kneeled after signaling for you to stand still just beside him. He was lining up the shot when something caught his eye to the right of where you stood.

“Get down!” He whispered sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling. The sudden jerk caught you off guard and you were thrown off balance, crashing into him. He fell flat on his back with you on top, your palms on either side of his head with your chest almost directly in his face. With half a dozen walkers shuffling into the area, you couldn’t move lest you be detected.

The deer sensed the danger and ran, the group of undead following mindlessly. As they passed where you and Daryl hid, you instinctively lowered, feeling his breath against your shirt. It took several minutes for the threat to move far enough away that you felt comfortable to lift yourself up and sit back, effectively placing your ass on his stomach.

“Well, that sucks. That was a big doe.” You complained. When he didn’t comment, you looked at him. He was propped up on his elbows, looking anywhere but at you. His face and neck were flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “You okay?” You queried with general concern.

“M’fine. Can ya get offa me?”

“Oh. Right.” You stood quickly, as did he. His back was quickly turned to you.

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Your head tilted, brow creased in confusion. “We’ve got hours of daylight left. Shouldn’t we—”

“Said we’re done.” He was already walking away, leaving you staring at his back and wondering what you’d done wrong.

The ride back was tense and silent. You even chose to just lightly place your hands below his ribs and keep some space between your bodies instead of how you would usually have a tight hold on him.

When you entered Alexandria, Daryl parked the bike and got off, leaving you there, confused and more than a little upset. He passed Rick by without a word, the former sheriff turning to look at you with an eyebrow cocked. You gave him a shrug.

“I have no idea.” Shaking your head, you grabbed the gun from where it was secured to the back and went to sign it in before returning to the home you shared with Daryl and Carol. He was nowhere to be found on the first floor, leaving you to assume he had retreated to his room in the basement. With a heavy sigh, you went upstairs to shower.

Evening was upon you before you knew it, the sun having only set a few minutes before Carol invited you to walk to the other house for dinner with the group. You weren’t feeling all that hungry so you told her you’d be there in a few minutes. It was a lie. You had no intention of leaving your room.

Turning over onto your side, you closed your eyes. You had just drifted off when there came another knock. “Ugh.” You groaned and threw back the blankets, remaining in just your tank top and underwear since you didn’t plan on leaving with her. “Carol, I really don’t—” Once the door opened, you screeched to a halt, meeting the impossibly blue eyes of your favorite bowman. “Daryl.” You blinked at him blankly.

“Hi.” He nearly whispered. “Can I, uh—?” He gave a vague motion toward the inside of your room.

“Right. Uh, yeah, right, sure.” You stammered while stepping aside. He stepped in and you turned to push the door closed, a gasp leaving your mouth when you felt him press himself against your back. “D-Daryl?”

“First, the lake. Then your tits in my face when the walkers came. An’ now—this?” His finger was tracing the outline of your panties over your hip.

“What? I didn’t—”

He growled, a low sound in his throat, as he spun you around and pressed you back against the door with his body. He grabbed your chin to force your gaze on him.

“Didn’t what? G’on. Tell me.”

“Daryl, I didn’t mean anything by any of that.” You gulped, though you weren’t afraid. Exactly the opposite. Heat and wetness was pooling at your core, your skin feeling electrified where he was touching you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t lie to him. “I really wasn’t trying to fuck with you, I swear.”

There was an instant change in his eyes and it broke your heart. He released you with a muttered “shit,” his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. The dim light of your bedside lamp was enough for you to see his face reddening and the slight tremble to his frame.

“Y/N, I—fuck—m’sorry.” He quickly attempted to sidestep you and reached for the doorknob, but you were faster and blocked his path. His head shot up, eyes wide and panicked. He had absolutely misread the day’s happenings but he wasn’t wrong on one thing.

“I wasn’t intentionally fucking with you.” You repeated, your tongue snaking out to wet your lips before you continued. “But I would have if I had known it’d end with you here like this.” His arm dropped away from the knob and you entered into his space, pressing your chest against him to hover your lips over his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon.”

And now you were here.

“Fuuuuck!” You moaned, pressing the back of your head into the pillow before raising it to look down at the man between your thighs. Your fingers twisted and tugged his hair as your hips rolled, grinding your cunt against his tongue. Daryl growled against your clit, the sound vibrating against the swollen nub. His large hands pressed down on your inner thighs, holding you open while also effectively rendering you immobile.

A whine slipped past your lips when his tongue once again pressed tightly against you, sweeping up and down before he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked. You tried to lift your hips but he pressed down harder, his nails biting into your skin. He removed his mouth from you, dark eyes glaring from just above your mound.

“Be still.”

His gravelly voice was even lower, darkened with lust and demand. You found you couldn’t help but obey. Breathing through your nose, you nodded eagerly. He kept his gaze locked on your face while his right hand lifted from your thigh, fingertips whispering over your flesh to dance down to your core. He ran a single digit through your slick once…twice, never breaking eye contact.

Your hands left his hair and fisted into the sheets of your bed, but otherwise, you remained frozen in place, panting through the pleasure of stretching around his middle finger breaching your opening. He slid in to the first knuckle, then the second, pausing only briefly before pushing in all the way. The sound that left your throat was positively sinful. You dropped your head back to the pillow and focused on not moving.

“Good girl.” He praised you, rewarding you by drawing his digit almost all the way out before sinking back inside, thus beginning a steady rhythm of which he continued. When you remained unmoving, he lowered his head once again to lavish attention onto your clit.

Who was this man? This was a completely new Daryl. In control, demanding, vocal, and positively panty-dropping. A new part of him for you to accept and adore. A part of him that, to your knowledge, only you had seen. One that you definitely hoped you would see again and again!

“Daryl, fuck!” You cried out when his index finger joined the first. You shivered almost violently when you felt him smile against your pussy.

“In a minute.” He purred, pumping into you faster.

Your hands moved from the sheets to the headboard, palms flat to keep the thrusts of his hand from pushing you upward. The moans and cries were constant, his mouth and fingers igniting a fire low in your belly. The knot was twisting tighter and tighter, and you grit your teeth when you felt the sparks of it begin to shoot down to your toes and up into your chest.

“Nngh, Daryl! I’m—” You panted, eyes screwed shut and legs trembling. He curled his fingers, driving them against that soft spot inside you mercilessly while his tongue and teeth tortured your clit. Just when you thought you might die from the pleasure of it all, that knot in your belly pulled taunt and snapped. Wave after wave of euphoria traveled through you, broken moans of his name tumbling from your lips like a mantra. You had grabbed his hair again at some point, holding him against your center with your thighs attempting to trap him there. He didn’t seem to mind, too busy eagerly lapping at the nectar you spilled while riding your high.

When you went limp against the mattress, he pulled his fingers from within you, leaving you to whine at the emptiness they left behind. You were still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when he pressed one last kiss against your sensitive clit before sitting up on his knees. You blinked away the haze in your vision to watch him suck on those two fingers that had just fucked you senseless, your juices still glistening on his face.

You weren’t sure what came over you but you dove forward almost clumsily while he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He caught you easily with the other arm and pulled you against his chest, your arms encircling his neck to pull his lips to yours. The kiss was desperate, all tongues and teeth. The absolute need to be close to him in that moment was something you couldn’t explain. When you pulled back to look at him, your pupils blown wide and lips swollen, it was as if he understood before your sex-addled brain could form any words.

“I gotcha, girl.” Daryl said softly, a contradiction to how he had commanded you only moments prior. You nodded and let him kiss you again. It was tender this time, slow and deliberate. The archer began to lay you back. He caught himself with one arm while the other stayed behind your head to control your descent until you were once again on the pillows.

His mouth left yours and began to roam across your jaw. He nuzzled his cheek against yours in a way that you found absolutely adorable but then he was pressing open-mouthed kisses below your ear. Large hands traveled to your chest to cup both of your breasts, calloused fingers exploring the supple mounds before settling to roll your pebbled nipples between them. He kissed his way down, that sinful mouth eager to take over worshiping that part of you.

“Daryl,” you gasped, arching up into him when his mouth closed around your right nipple, “mmmm, Daryl, please!” You could feel his erection against your thigh, hot and hard and yet completely ignored. “Please—” you tried again, the plea coming out more like a pathetic whine.

“I know whatcha want.” He murmured against the skin between your breasts. He latched onto your left nipple with his teeth while his left hand took over stimulating the right. “Whatcha need.” You did the only thing you could and twisted your fingers into his hair, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth with a quiet whimper. His touch left you suddenly and you opened your eyes to find him directly above you and lowering down until his lips were just barely touching yours. “But I wantcha to say it anyway.” You felt every syllable against your mouth, the simple action enough to make your cunt clench around nothing. Goddamn, this man knew how to play your body like an instrument.

His fingers were ghosting down your left side only for his hand to maneuver between your bodies. Grasping his cock, he slid it through your folds, gathering your juices in agonizingly slow strokes. Each time the tip of him grazed your clit, your back arched from the mattress with a cry on your lips.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Daryl.” You whined, anchoring your legs around his hips. You dug your heels into the skin just below his ass in a desperate attempt to pull him into you. Too bad he was much stronger than you.

He hummed in response but only began to stroke himself, spreading your slick along his shaft. “Tell me whatcha want me to do, girl.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were going to literally combust if he wasn’t inside you at that moment. You weaved your arms underneath his and pulled at him. “Fuck me, Daryl. Please, please, fuck me!”

He chuckled. The asshole actually chuckled but you didn’t care because he then immediately entered you in one fluid motion, burying himself to the hilt. His arms nearly gave out as your wet heat welcomed him, stretching and molding to his cock as if your body was made just for him. He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder but you were too far gone to notice. The pleasurable burn of accommodating him brought you to new heights. You almost came right on the spot.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your neck, fighting to keep himself in check.

After you both had a moment, Daryl pushed himself up onto his forearms, drawing back his hips slowly before snapping forward and earning a broken moan from you. The feeling of him moving inside you was overwhelming, the push and pull driving every thought from your mind to leave only the ability to feel. And you wanted more.

You clawed at his back, each thrust forward tearing a cry from your throat. You barely registered that his mouth was on yours, but responded immediately, craving the taste of him. The smoke and pine mingled with the taste of your cunt on his tongue and you couldn’t get enough. You swallowed his delectable moan when your hips came up to meet this thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing off the walls of your room. Bringing a hand to his hair, you pulled his head back, pussy clenching when the action made him hiss between his teeth.

Teeth met his skin, biting down just above his collar bone. The salty taste brought a moan into your throat. You marked him there, sucking hard until you brought blood to the surface and then you released him. “You—feel so good.” You panted before your mouth was back on his. He pulled back suddenly and you whined at the loss of his weight but then he was sitting back on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking into you so hard that you saw stars. It was just on the good side of painful, your cunt spasming around his cock as the familiar heat began to build in your belly.

Daryl didn’t stay that way way long. He released your hips and leaned forward to use the headboard as leverage, pounding you with such force that you again had to brace yourself with your palms. Your cries mixed with his moans and grunts and you prayed that Carol was still away. The angle was intense, each thrust had his tip pressing roughly against your sweet spot, building your pleasure at a pace you wished would slow.

“Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna—” you couldn’t get the words out between breaths and moans, but he knew from the way you tightened around him that you were nearing the precipice. And he was determined to throw you over the edge first.

He released the headboard and grabbed your arms, yanking you up while he sat back on his heels. You grabbed for his shoulders and then encircled his neck, resting one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder blade. He moved his hands to your hips, helping you to bounce on him, spearing yourself on his cock and driving it deeper. Your moans became pleas and then a chant of his name, mouth hanging agape between words and breaths and eyes screwed shut.

“Cum for me.” He grunted against your jaw and that was all it took. You were almost certain you screamed but you couldn’t hear it, vision blacking out as euphoria swallowed you. You came back to yourself as the waves began to ebb, Daryl continuing to fuck you through. Your body felt heavy and uncoordinated and you pulled back a bit to clumsily seek out his mouth, greedily drinking down each sound he offered as he chased his own release. His grip on your hips would leave bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

His movements grew sloppy and you could feel him beginning to twitch and pulse inside you. You pulled your mouth from his and watched him until he pulled you from his lap. You moved quickly, aware of his actions, and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him fast and hard. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your thighs while he fought to breathe through the sensation. His teeth were clenched and his eyes tightly closed, sweat shining on his skin and you were sure it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

Half a dozen more strokes before you twisted your hand and he cried out, muscles freezing and face contorting into a grimace of pure ecstasy. He breathed out your name, hips jerking and ropes of cum painting your hand and both of your thighs. No, that was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

You pulled his mouth to yours before he could come all the way down, relishing each twitch of his muscles. When you pulled away, he finally opened his eyes and swayed on the spot. He seemed dazed but when his gaze met yours, he leaned forward to kiss you. It was gentle, almost hesitant. As if he didn’t know whether or not you’d welcome it.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, finally catching your breath.

“Yeah.” He replied quietly.

You brought a hand to the side of his face, watching all the courage melt away. His already flushed face was growing impossibly redder. You couldn’t help but smile. He had been dominant and commanding only to morph right back into the Daryl you had fallen in love with.

Your eyes widened.

Shit.

You were in love with him.

You were actually in love with Daryl.

You didn’t move when he got up to grab a towel, slipping on his boxers while he was at it. You still didn’t move as he cleaned you up, his mouth moving once he was done but no sound registering. He snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched.

“What’d you say?”

“Ya okay?” His brow was drawn inward in concern. He looked so, so nervous and you just wanted to pull him onto the bed and hold him.

“Yeah, I’m great.” You beamed.

He nodded and worried his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing over at his clothes. “Guess I should go.”

Your face fell as he reached for his pants. “Why?” Daryl froze and looked at you, head tilted. “You could stay. Here. With me.” You offered, your own face reddening. He stayed in the awkward position of halfway reaching toward his shirt but was obviously considering your words.

“Ya want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.” You smiled sincerely. He nodded and straightened, coming back around to the other side of the bed. He sat stiffly against the headboard, chewing his lip again. You started to lean against him when there came a soft knock at the door. You both looked up and then at one another.

Busted.

You both scrambled to get dressed and it would have been comical had you not been thinking of who could be on the other side of the door. Carol. Rick. Michonne. Oh god, Carl! You looked back at him just as he pulled his shirt over his head, an apologetic expression on your face. Turning the knob and pulling the door open, you smiled innocently at—

No one.

“What the—” You leaned out and looked down each hall to find them empty. However, at your feet were two wrapped plates of food. One with a note addressed to Daryl and the other to you. In Carol’s handwriting.

You looked around for the woman once more while picking up the plates and stepped back into the room, kicking the door shut. Eyebrows raised, you crossed the space to hand Daryl his and then placed yours on the bed, removing the note and unfolding it.

“Good for you. Now tell him that you love him.”

You almost laughed but held it, simply folding your note and putting it in your bedside drawer. Daryl was looking at his own with a raised brow before he folded it and put it in his pocket.

“M’starvin’.” He announced, plopping onto your bed while unwrapping his food. He watched you smile and follow suit, gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

His note?

“Don’t be stupid, Pookie. She loves you too.”

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

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blueberryarchive · 9 months

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—the sketch and the smaller eye; kth

Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.

🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

🌿word count; 8.1k

🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.

🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.

🌿inspired by; ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ᵖˡˢ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.

The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.

He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.

The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.

The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.

Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?

The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention.

So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.

The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.

"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.

So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.

"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.

"No, just me."

"If you lie it'll be worse for you."

"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.

"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.

You denied it, slowly.

"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.

"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.

Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.

With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.

The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.

The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.

That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.

You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.

When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.

Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.

"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.

You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.

"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."

But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.

He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again.

Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one.

You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.

You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago.

Two, to be exact.

You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.

The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes.

That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.

The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.

He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.

Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words.

When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.

"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.

"But you can draw on one piece of paper."

"That's not how it works."

"It'll have to work."

Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.

"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.

The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand.

The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.

After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.

There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.

The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.

"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.

"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.

He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.

"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.

"I'm already bored of it."

"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.

They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.

Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.

"I want you to say it," you smiled.

"Force me."

"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."

"You already said it. I don't have the need."

"Why do you have it under the bed?"

"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.

"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."

"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.

"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.

"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."

You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.

The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.

Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.

"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."

"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.

"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"

Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.

"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."

Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.

The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.

He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.

"I followed you today."

"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.

"To the woods, when you left this morning."

When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour.

"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.

"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.

There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.

"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.

A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.

Fallacies.

"How did you come to find me?"

"What?" the smile faded from your face.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.

"Don't know."

He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.

"Sure, of course."

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.

Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.

"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."

"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.

"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"

"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.

"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.

"Then you do know something about your past."

"Fuck you, Kim."

"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.

"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.

"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.

"I know."

You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.

"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."

Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.

Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.

It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.

He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.

Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?

Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.

"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.

It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.

For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.

You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.

When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.

The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.

If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?

Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.

Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.

He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.

He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.

"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.

With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.

Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.

"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.

"I want you to take me."

"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.

"Take me somewhere."

Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.

"Where do you want to go?"

"To the house on top." you pointed east.

"How do you know there's a house on top?"

"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.

Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."

"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?

"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."

You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.

"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."

Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.

The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.

"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.

Rich and peachy.

"What?"

"No, nevermind."

"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.

"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.

The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.

"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.

You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.

"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.

Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.

"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.

The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."

"I think I remember some of what happened to me."

"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.

You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.

"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."

Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.

"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."

Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.

Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.

"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"

Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.

"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."

"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.

"I don't understand."

"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."

"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.

"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."

"You and how many others?"

Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?

"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."

They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.

You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.

The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.

He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.

Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.

He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.

Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?

"If you want to stop-"

"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.

"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.

Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.

"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.

You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.

In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.

"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.

With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.

"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.

It was embarrassing, but so sublime.

You loved it. No. You became obsessed.

When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.

"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.

Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.

You were going to be the death of him.

The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.

The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.

Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.

You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.

Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.

It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other.

That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.

The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.

You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.

"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.

"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."

As if he could.

"Because?"

"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."

"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.

"You are so intense in the mornings."

"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"

Taehyung frowned. "It's true."

"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."

"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."

You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.

Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.

"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"

Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.

"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.

Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.

"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."

You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.

Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.

You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.

"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked

Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.

"I want to give you a portrait."

You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.

"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?

"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."

"Even when one is smaller?"

He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.

"Especially the smaller one."

His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.

His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.

"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.

Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.

"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.

Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.

"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."

"Because?"

"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.

Taehyung could have cared less.

"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.

"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.

"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.

This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.

Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.

"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"

You didn't know what to say.

"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.

"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.

It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.

"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."

"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.

"Come here."

His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.

"Get naked, pet."

"It's cold."

"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.

"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.

His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.

"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"

You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.

"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."

"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.

"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.

Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.

"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.

If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.

There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.

Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.

"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.

He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.

"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.

With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.

You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.

"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"

You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.

You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.

You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.

"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."

How can he call you that without melting?

You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.

Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.

"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."

You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.

You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.

Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.

The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.

"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.

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rejectedbytheempty · 4 months

Note

could you write a story about enemies hero and villain that have to learn to care for each other while stranded somewhere? and the hero gets hurt and doesn’t want to tell the villain cause he doesn’t wanna seem weak in front of him, but the villain figures it out because the hero is in pain?

HELL YEAH that’s what i’m talkin about babey. so anyways, i wrote it, hopefully it isn’t too much like the ramblings of a madwoman. but i saw that you requested other things and i def will be getting to them (or at least probably)

TRAPPED

pt 2

tw: blood

“I guess this is what happens when you work with a villain,” Hero lamented, slumped against the gray brick of the cell wall.

Villain whipped their head to look at Hero, anger flaring in their eyes, “You were the one who screwed everything up, I wanted to do this alone, but no, you couldn’t leave well enough alone.” Villain had heard through the grapevine that Supervillain was planning on building some kind of super weapon that they planned to use to subdue the city and take despotic rule over it. As much as Villain could care less about the city, they did care about Supervillain having their go at dictatorship, they were known for being horribly cruel and Villain didn’t want to be at the other end of the smoking gun, so to speak. So Villain planned to break into Supervillain’s facility and hopefully destroy their plans, or at least get a good notion of how far away they should move to avoid the fallout. It was too bad that Hero had decided to interfere with their plans, for some reason that insufferable goody two shoes always stuck their nose in things that didn’t concern them. Hero tagged along, and because the two of them have never worked too well with each other (i.e. at all), they were captured by a bunch of Supervillain’s goons and stuffed in this dingy cell.

“If you went alone, then you would be in this cell by yourself, so maybe you should be grateful that you have company,” Hero said with a small smile on their face.

Villain sighed, “First of all, not true. Second, I could name a dozen other people I would rather have as company.” Hero laughed, but for a moment, the side of their lip twinged up in a wince. It was quick enough that anyone else wouldn’t have caught it, but Villain narrowed their eyes in suspicion.

Hero’s amused face quickly melted into confusion, “What? What’s wrong?”

Villain rose up from where they were sitting and strode forward towards Hero, “I should be the one asking you that, isn’t that right, Hero?”

Hero swallowed nervously and shifted in their seat uncomfortably, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Villain was quick to snatch Hero’s arm, which had been sitting in a seemingly relaxed position over their stomach. There was a large gash in Hero’s side, with dark, bloody stains spreading to either side of the split fabric of their uniform. Hero tried in vain to pull their arm back from Villain’s grip, but only succeeded in pulling their injury taut, to which they hissed in pain.

“When did this happen?”

With a grimace, Hero explained, “In the fight, when we were discovered, one of the guards managed to get me with their knife. I didn’t really notice how bad it was until we were walking to the cell and I looked down..”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Villain demanded.

Hero shook their head and laughed softly, more in a bitter way than in humor, “I.. I don’t know. I just didn’t want to seem weak, I suppose.”

Villain’s expression softened slightly and they released the hold they had on Hero’s arm, and Hero was quick to draw their arm back to their body.

“Christ, Hero, that was dumb. I’m not- well, I’m not that much of a villain.”

Hero avoided Villain’s pitying gaze, setting their jaw before saying, “It’s bad enough that I dragged you down with me, I didn’t want to be more of a burden.”

Villain reached out, gently grabbing Hero’s jaw and guiding them to look face-to-face with Villain, “You are not, and never will be a burden.” Hero opened their mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud clapping noise that echoed through the cell.

Villain and Hero looked up to see Supervillain standing there, clapping slowly. “Touching stuff, really,” they said with a bone-chilling grin on their face. The moment that Supervillain had made themself known, Villain had stepped away from Hero, hardening their gaze once again. Hero breathed heavily, trying to subdue the obvious fear that was overtaking them.

“You know, I had only planned to catch one but what luck that Hero showed up! And all it took was the rumor that I was building some kind of superweapon, as if I would ever do that, takes out the personal aspect to this job that I so love,” Supervillain said, maintaining a superficially cheery tone.

Villain stumbled back at this, heart sinking to the bottom of their chest, “It was fake?”

Supervillain’s booming laugh bounced off the stone walls, “Thought you would have been smart enough to figure it out by now, but I expect too much, I suppose.”

Villain glanced over at Hero who was staring dissociatively at the ground, chest heaving as they breathed heavily through their nose.

“Oh! Looks like your little friend there is about to pass out. Poor thing, probably scared out of their mind. But, maybe it’s the blood loss that’s finally getting to their head.”

Villain saw red, they slammed against the cell bars, “Let them go. Right. Now. They had nothing to do with this, I’m the one you want.”

Supervillain’s grin didn’t even fall for a moment, “No, I don’t think I will. This is just too much fun, it’s even better than I thought. Sadly, I do have to get back to my scheming, maybe I will actually build a superweapon this time. I’ll be back soon though, so don’t you worry,” Supervillain said, booping Villain’s nose, to which Villain backed away in anger and surprise.

“Toodaloo, Hero!” Supervillain said playfully, waving goodbye before heading towards the door, leaving Villain and Hero back to complete silence.

A/N: okey, lmk what you guys thought and if i should do a part 2 or whateva

#hero x villain #villain x hero #hero #villain #enemies to lovers #hero prompt #villain prompt #writeblr #writing prompt #writing

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ohbo-ohno · 9 months

Note

Post shock collar accident is roooouuugghh

Cause now it's, well simon said you can pick whatever you want for dinner but what if that's a test? What if you're going to get shocked again if you pick wrong?

Johnny said that he got you something to draw in but what if that's a test too?

You're now questioning every reward, every move every word, anticipating a shock for not learning some lesson that you aren't even sure is a lesson

And you can't even trust when they reassure you that it's okay cause the last time they said that they lied.

Cue groveling from them both, Johnny made a liar by association, simon an unintentional liar.

Outside time(not that you want it, much to bith their anguish) is put on pause and the collar is removed so simon can meticulously go over ever detail ever component because that shouldn't have happened. And he sees how far back it's sent you so the idea of it happening again makes him tremble.

Contemplates wearing it himself and giving the remote to Johnny because he feels like he needs to atone for this, cause not only do you not trust him, you don't trust Johnny.

shock collar asks: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

would lowkey drive them insane that you trust them so little - it's like that first day of your captivity all over again, before you realized they seemed to really mean it when they said they didn't want to hurt you (also pre escape punishments). but now? now you're terrified of them and it's justified. they promised you over and over and over again that the collar wouldn't go off, and it did. they lied to your face, the both of them, and you suffered because of it

so they're frustrated that you look at them like they've got a gun to your head when they ask if you'd like to go outside, but they also get it

and at first johnny was just endlessly mad at ghost - he's the one who didn't turn the collar off, this is all his fault. but then ghost is gone one day and johnny asks if you'd like to go outside and your reaction is just as bad as it's been every other time they've asked. he has to confront the fact that he also lied to you, that you don't trust him either :(

might even nix the shock collar completely. maybe you just won't be outside without one of them ever again, so they never have to worry about this

also simon giving johnny the collar to shock him with is a fantastic punishment but i don't think johnny would be into seeing ghost in pain

#asks and answers #dlmliyh #bo writes

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bruh-2004 · 7 months

Text

Cockwarming w/ XDH ♤

genre: smut, suggestive, fluff at times. warnings: explicit, fingering, sitting on laps, riding on thighs, penetration without stimulation.

O.DE

- he would have given the idea, composing music only in silence was making him bored and obviously having you sitting on his lap, without your underwear and straddling him would be much more interesting;

- you accepted, in fact it wouldn't be the first time you were on his lap while he was working on something, but it would be the first time without your underwear and straddling him;

- o.de ordered you to just stay in place, without moving or trying to be smart;

- he would make a point of making some movements with his legs just to make you move/roll around slightly;

- "what was love? Can't you just feel it and not bounce?" he would say when you couldn't stand it and started to ride lightly;

- you would end up becoming a mess, he would make you bounce on him willingly, he wouldn't let you get off of him without cumming.

JOOYEON

- the idea would have been shared between the two of you, you both wanted to test something new and then came to this decision;

- jooyeon was leaning against the headboard of the bed completely naked while you were just in your panties (a fetish for fucking without taking off your partner's panties? he certainly would have one);

- you sat on him and ended up realizing that it wouldn't be easy at all, Jooyeon obviously wasn't going to make it easy for you, making a point of caressing you and squeezing your breasts;

- "seeing your face in pain is making me more excited, love, I'm going to end up surrendering like this" "what if I just touched your clitoris, hmm?";

- he would do this without you even responding, involuntarily you would start to roll slowly on his dick trying to follow the movements he made with his fingers in your intimacy;

- jooyeon would end up not being able to take it either, he would release you to bounce on him and relieve all that accumulated lust.

JUNHAN

- the idea would come from you and don't think that it would have been that easy to convince our mini darling to accept (but because he loves you you would be able to achieve your goal);

- you asked him to distract himself by trying to draw something on a notebook sheet, that way he would be less embarrassed;

- while he started to draw something you positioned his member at your entrance and sat down slowly on purpose just to see him shrink slightly and bite his lips;

- you kept trying to talk about the drawing he was trying to make, but you didn't make it easier for him when you moved slightly to see the drawing better, one of his hands would automatically have gone to your waist, squeezing the area lightly;

- "y/o you promised you wouldn't move, try to keep your promise!" he would say making you laugh with cuteness, you would leave a kiss on his cheek and then say "sorry love, I was never good at keeping promises, you know" making a point of starting to move backwards;

- Junhan would try his best to hold back, but after you teased him so much, the boy started to move along, willing to give himself up, but you stopped him and got off of him saying "nothing like that, you didn't keep complaining until I convinced you? you don't deserve to fuck me today, love", you would leave leaving him confused and frustrated with the excitement (and you would also feel like going back on that decision).

GUN-IL

- "honey, have you ever heard of cockwarming?", and I need to say whose idea it was???;

- you were comfortably positioned on his dick while he focused his attention on a series he was watching;

- gun-il's strong arms were around your waist, sometimes he would caress the area, sometimes he would take his hands under your blouse, but one thing he would do every 5 minutes was kiss you;

- you couldn't hide how excited you were, your pussy started to contract on his dick and it was starting to make him crazy to fuck you, but gun-il would be able to hold back;

- "gun-il... please... I prefer it when your dick is moving deep inside me" now it was his turn to feel the biggest sting of pain due to the excitement;

- gun-il would have grabbed your neck and kissed you, then saying "you know what, fuck this, I'd rather be touching you too", he would throw you on the bed and finally fuck you the way you like.

JUNGSU

- in jungsu's case he would look for you and bring up the subject saying "s/o I was watching Twitter and something came up about cockwarming saying it was something that couples can try... can you explain to me what that means? ";

- you would explain it to him in detail and you would notice him getting a little shy, but to your surprise he would say "I understand, can we try?";

- obviously you accepted, jungsu is big and there would be nothing better than being very comfortable sitting on it;

- Jungsu knew that it was difficult for you to handle him all at first, so as a very helpful boyfriend he would have prepared you by sucking you with great dedication, making sure that it wouldn't hurt as much when you were going to sit on him;

- when you had finally welcomed his entire cock inside you, you would both give a low moan, knowing that this would be a great challenge to resist;

- Jungsu would be very observant, he would caress you, he would kiss you, making a point of squeezing your buttocks tightly just to make you move on him (one point: he would give you one of those naughty little smiles during the kiss), in the end it would end that the two of you would have surrendered and he would finally make you ride willingly.

GAON

- it would also have been a joint idea between you, you would have seen something about it on the internet and then you started talking about it and decided that you would try it;

- in gaon's case it would be a little different, instead of you sitting on him he would put you on all fours and leave his dick inside you in that position;

- man, jiseok would drive you crazy for sure, he would tease you by caressing your body, slapping and squeezing your buttocks, pulling your hair lightly, grabbing your neck while saying things like "let's see how long you can keep my dick inside of you without asking me to fuck you like a little whore";

- but you would be a little rebellious, sometimes you would make his dick stimulate you in a slow back and forth movement, gaon would give you strong slaps as a "reprimand", but he wouldn't stop you from doing that;

- you would change positions later, he would be on top of you, placing his dick in your intimacy again;

- despite a lot of teasing you would manage to keep your promise not to fuck like that, but gaon would definitely fuck you with his fingers and tongue making you squirt about three times.

#xdinary heroes fanfic #xdh smut #xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary hard hours #xdinary heroes smut #xdh imagines #xdinary heroes imagines #gunil smut #jungsu smut #o.de smut #junhan smut #jooyeon smut #gaon smut

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multifandomwriter56 · 1 year

Text

As It Was

A/N: Hello! I know I've been MIA for a long time. Life has been crazy and going back to college while having a full time job has taken a lot of my time. But I'm hoping to get back to writing on this blog. I've missed it and I have missed everyone so much. I make no promises but I'm going to try.

Summary: Arthur and Y/n have always been super close; but when the boys get back from the war, things have change.

Characters: Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions Arthur's attempt at suicide

Word Count: 2,698

*gif is not mine*

The rumor about the men who came back from the war are not the same men that left; It’s true. No one came back the same after the war. Not a single soul.

But it wasn’t just the soldiers who changed. Those who were stuck at home, waiting for their loved ones to return. They changed too.

Y/n couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she changed. She just remembers one day realizing she’s not the little girl who loved to draw rainbows, horses, and flowers anymore. Or the little girl who taught Finn how to aim at a moving rat, even though their Aunt Polly despised them touching guns. Not even the little girl who would take walks with her favorite brother, Arthur.

Y/n would never say she has a favorite brother aloud, but she knows her family sees how close the oldest brother and youngest sister are. There may be eighteen years difference between them, but they would sometimes act like twins.

Y/n enjoys John’s company and loves his jokes. Finn, she will always protect and care for. Ada, well they clash on fashion and boys, but they would kill for one another. And Tommy, well, the two siblings have never been able to get along. Tommy had big dreams that didn’t include his baby sister. Greta wanted to change the world and wanted Tommy to help her. Y/n wanted Tommy to help take care of the family instead of spending all his time at the docks waiting for the young woman to show up.

Even at a young age, Y/n knew it would always be Tommy who would provide for the family; be their leader. She loves Arthur, but he’s more of a follower than a leader. Tommy has always had ideas and Y/n knew those ideas would help them rise in Small Heath.

So with the boys off fighting in the war, Y/n made sure to follow her brother’s orders on how to run the shop.

Polly was the only one Y/n would let stray from Tommy’s list.

“You’re ten years old, Y/n. You are not the boss and know nothing about bets.” Her aunt admonishes.

“I know enough, Polly. I have Tommy’s list and Arthur’s notes.”

“So now you’re an expert at running betting shops?”

“I wasn’t saying that.” The ten year mumbles.

“Then you’ll do your best to remember who is in charge of the business.”

Y/n knows when to stop when it comes to her aunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/n will admit, she learnt a lot from her aunt; not just business, but women’s business.

But now that the war is over, Y/n’s noticed how more involved Tommy is; how he keeps adding to the business.

Arthur is less present when it comes to his baby sister. They don’t go on walks anymore.

The fourteen year old moved into Arthur’s home when they came back. She wanted away from her very controlling brother and closer to the brother she knows best.

Except now, it seems that she understands Tommy more than she does Arthur.

The war may have changed all of her brothers, but something broke in Arthur. His nightmares keep her up at night and the one time she tried to wake him up, he almost choked her to death.

After that, she would either lay in her bed, listening to his screams or she would get John if the screams lasted longer than ten minutes.

“You shouldn’t be at Arthur’s alone.” Tommy tells his sister as he lit a cigarette.

“I’m not alone. Arthur is there.”

“You know what I mean, Y/n. Arthur is struggling and you being around isn’t helping.”

Y/n scoffs. “Actually, I think I help Arthur more than you can ever imagine trying to help him. You just hate that I’m not under your roof and you can’t boss me around.”

Tommy points his lit cigarette at her, his eyebrows raised in warning. “You will do as you're told or I will turn you over my knee.”

Y/n once again scoffs. Tommy has never disciplined her, he wasn’t ever around to take her in hand. That dirty task was left to their aunt. “Not only am I fourteen years old, but you have never raised a hand to me. Why start now?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n.”

Yeah, he’s bluffing, Y/n thinks. She stands to her feet. “Yes sir, Sergeant Major. If that’s all, Sergeant, I would like to finish my studies. Wouldn’t want to show up to school without my work now would we?”

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to keep arguing with his sister. He, instead, waves his hand in a dismissive gesture without even glancing up.

The day Y/n dreaded came. Arthur had tried to commit suicide by hanging himself after he fell for their father’s con. She had found him at their home, raging and destroying the room. She skillfully dodged his swings and shouted at him.

“Arthur! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” She ducks when he throws an ashtray at her head. “It’s Y/n, brother!”

“Y/n?”

The broken voice has Y/n on the verge of tears. “Yes.” She nods her head. “It’s Y/n. I’m here.” She makes her way to her brother as his knees buckle and he lands on the floor. She holds him close, his chin digging into her shoulder as he sobs.

Y/n doesn’t know how long they stay in this position but she loses feeling in her left shoulder and feet.

When Arthur finally is able to compose himself, he stands to his feet, rubbing a shaking hand through his hair.

“Arthur, what happened to your neck?”

The older man covers the deep bruise around his neck. “Nothing.”

Y/n starts to shake her head, the pieces falling together. “No, no. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t leave me here.” She stops talking but her head is still moving side to side; not wanting to accept that her brother, her hero, tried to kill himself.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” She sharply cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I just need a moment to process.” She sits in a chair that he hadn’t flipped yet. “I need to figure out what to do. I need- no you need some of Polly’s ointment, and a drink… yeah, yeah.” She stands to her feet, ignoring the concerned look coming from her brother. “Sit down, Arthur. I’ll pour you some whiskey and get some ointment to help with the bruising.

“Y/n, I don’t- fuck.” Arthur curses when she completely ignores him and heads for the kitchen.

Only a few minutes pass until Y/n comes back. She hands the glass of whiskey to him and starts applying the ointment.

Y/n stayed with her brother until he decided to go to bed. She heads up to her room. In the morning, she’ll tell Polly. Fuck knows what Tommy will say if he hears about this. She never knows if he will help Arthur or make it worse.

In the morning. Y/n told her aunt and she should have known her aunt would tell their fearless leader. So she wasn’t surprised to see him walk in as she hands Arthur a cup of tea.

The look Tommy sends her is clear.

She smiles softly at her eldest brother. “I will be up in my room if you need me.” She tells him, her invitation not extending to the other brother.

She heads upstairs but does not go into her room. She sits on the top step, listening as Tommy belittles their brother. She rolls her eyes. She should’ve known Tommy would never express real feelings.

“Just use a fucking gun, man.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Y/n shouts as she storms down the stairs. “That’s all you have? Next time, use a gun?”

“Leave it be, Y/n.”

Y/n glares at Arthur. “No, Arthur, I can’t just leave it be.” She turns her glare back at the brother she is upset with. “I know it’s hard for you to express feelings now, but I would rather you not say anything at all than talk to our brother that way. He deserves better.”

“Y/n, that’s enough.”

“Fuck off, Thomas!” She shouts as she steps in his space. “You only care about having Arthur around so he can beat and kill people who piss you off. That’s all that matters to the all powerful Tommy Shelby.”

The slap echoes throughout the whole house, each sibling frozen in their place.

Y/n holds a hand over her now stinging cheek, staring at the man who has never raised a hand to her. Her and Tommy may not get along but she never thought he would physically harm her. Never.

She turns to Arthur, wondering how he will react. To her surprise he’s staring at her in disappointment.

“You shouldn’t have spoken to Tommy like that, Y/n. You were out of line.”

“I was out of line?” She snaps. “What am I supposed to do, Arthur, eh? Am I supposed to stand at attention and wait for the sergeant to bark orders? Huh?”

“Enough.” He doesn’t shout, but his voice still booms, causing his baby sister to flinch, preparing for another blow.

The guilt had already come, but seeing her flinch made Tommy feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n, I-” He reaches out to comfort her but stops when she steps back.

“Don’t you fucking touch me. I hate you.” She looks at Arthur. “I hate you both.”

“Let her go, Arthur.” Tommy orders when the eldest Shelby stands to follow Y/n who ran out of the house.

***

For a month, Y/n stays with John and his kids; but as much as she loves her nieces and nephews, she refuses to stay there another night.

Lizzie Stark, who’s been helping her brother with the kids, tells her to go back home, to work it out with Arthur.

“And Tommy?” The fourteen year old asks the older woman.

Lizzie smirks. “Tell him to fuck off.”

Y/n smiles at that. She hopes her brother doesn’t wait too long to give Lizzie the ring he’s been hiding.

Knowing exactly where her brother will be, Y/n heads to the Garrison. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the locked door.

“We’re closed.” Is the muffled response from the barmaid.

“It’s Y/n Shelby.” She knows that’s all she has to say for the doors to open. Grace has been kind to her since she’s started working at the pub, and Y/n appreciates that, but she doesn’t trust the barmaid. She’s not sure why, but she has a hard time believing this Irish woman just decided to move to Birmingham without a real reason.

When the door opens, she smiles politely at Grace before squeezing past her. She heads straight to the back room, knowing her eldest brother will be attempting to balance the books.

She comes to halt mere centimeters from the entrance, her heart racing. What if he really is on Tommy’s side? What if he thinks she really did deserve to be slapped? What if she’s completely lost the only person to ever love her for her?

“Gracie, is that you? You ready to help me with these numbers yet?”

Y/n laughs quietly through the breath she was holding. Who is she kidding? Arthur is one of the kindest, loving people she knows. How could he hate her… right?

“It’s me, Arthur.” She barely gets that short sentence out above a whisper.

“Y/n?”

She steps fully into the room, her arms behind her back. “Hi.”

Arthur just stares at his baby sister, the anger, the pain of not seeing her for days, and the guilt… the guilt that has literally eaten him alive, rises to the surface. His loyalty to his brother clouded his love for his sister and he will hate himself for the rest of his life.

Being a Shelby makes it hard for them to express their emotions through words. No matter the emotion, the words usually fail to spit out, but actions, they’ve never been a problem for a Shelby.

So instead of saying the words, “I’m sorry” Arthur jumps to his feet and pulls the young girl into his arms, holding as tight as he can.

And since Y/n is not only a Shelby but also able to read her brother like a book, Y/n returns the hug and her anger disappears.

“You’re coming back home, ain’t ya?”

Y/n smiles, glad she was right. “My bag is already back in my room.”

Arthur squeezes her one more time, dropping a wet kiss on top of her head before releasing her. “Good.”

Y/n goes to ask him about how he’s been but a familiar voice stops her.

“Arthur, Tommy told me to get you. Family meeting in ten.” Finn turns to his sister, hope in his eyes. “Are you back?”

Y/n had kept in touch with Finn, having him fill her in on everything that was happening while she was gone. Finn didn’t know much, but she was able to fill in the gaps on most of what he told her.

“Yes, I’m back.”

Finn smiles. “Good. Arthur’s been too emotional and Tommy’s about to shoot him if he hears him complain one more time about you not being at the family meetings.”

Y/n laughs at Finn’s blunt statement; laughing harder when Arthur spouts profanities as he takes off after the youngest Shelby. She follows the duo, figuring it’s time for her to show her faceto the rest of the family.

Her smile stays in place as they make their way to Watery Lane, listening to her brother banter back and forth about what to tell and what to keep to yourself. So far, Finn’s winning the argument.

She can feel her smile start to get smaller the closer they get to her old home; and the smile completely disappears when Arthur opens the door for her. She comes to a halt at the threshold of the betting shop, her eyes immediately on the Peaky Blinders leader.

She’s thankful he hasn’t noticed her yet, but that little comfort quickly disappears when her aunt tells him to shut up as she makes her way to her niece.

Y/n easily accepts the hug from her aunt, the woman who practically raised her, but winces when she gets a clip to her ear.

“A month is too damn long, girl.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers as Polly releases her; a small smile appears when her aunt gently caresses her cheek.

Knowing she needs to face the elephant in the room, or more commonly known as Thomas Shelby, Y/n peels her eyes off her aunt and stares straight into her brother’s eyes, hoping he can’t see the fear in them.

Compared to the other family members, Tommy is a mute when it comes to emotions. The only time words and emotions are mixed together is when he’s angry. He doesn’t say “I love you”, “I need you”, or anything that is remotely tied to emotions.

That said, the man is a master at showing his emotions through actions. One look can tell you so much about the gang leader. You just have to know how to read them; and Y/n is a master at this skill. She’s almost as good as their aunt.

So when she sees the barely noticeable nod of approval, and watches as Tommy pulls out a chair; she knows she has been welcomed back by their fearless leader.

And after she sits, he gently kisses her cheek, the same cheek he hurt a month ago, and she knows he’s asking for forgiveness.

She grasps his hand before he can pull away, giving it one good squeeze, so he knows he’s been forgiven.

They will never have a relationship like her and Arthur, or like him and Ada; but they can coexist together in their family; and that’s enough for them both.

Peaky Blinders: @psychkunox @theshelbyclan @lilymurphy03 @findinghisredrighthand

Forevers: @desiredposion @theseakrakence @simonsbluee

#arthur shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby!reader #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby

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zimthandmade · 2 months

Note

Hi! I absolutely love your au! Matt and Mello look incredible and the dynamic is to die for! But one thing I wanna see so bad is their reaction to a child, having to take care of one (either them forced to babysit or finding a random child). How would they act? What would they do? Will the child need life long therapy, or will it trigger some sort of nurturing side of them?

I ADORE the thought of them being forced to babysit for some fellow mafiosi and I brainstormed with some people:

The awkwardness varies depending on the age of the kid

Their reaction to actual babies would probably be like “god no get it away from me, hell to the no”

Anything up to 10 years old, they let the kid be the shotcaller. They wanna play dress up? “Get the glitter Matt, you’re about to be one sparkly princess.” They wanna climb trees? “I can do it faster than you.”

Anything over 10, things could get borderline deranged. “Hey kid, ever fired a gun?” “Matt, you can’t just hand a gun to a child- … without a silencer, ts.”

Also: I don’t think they talk down to kids at all. Especially Mello tends to forget his actual age and treats the kid like a peer. He doesn’t sweet talk. If the kid messes up he goes “git good, wanker”

Imagine them having to babysit a teenage girl dealing with her first period. They’re super scientific about it, flinging around terms. Miles “how are your fallopian tubes doing?” Jeevas

A kid used the back of Mello's documents to draw and this poor kid is shitting bricks when they realise what they did and Mello is just like "Needs work on your shading. Anyways, write this all out again. Now."

As I doodled, the ideas just kept flowing :'D

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

#death note #fanart #ask #my art #sketch #comic #mello #matt #mihael keehl #mail jeevas #mellodramattic #dn au 2.0 #dn au 2.1 #mafia #kid #kids

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lainiespicewrites · 3 months

Text

Electric Summer Ch 3.

AHHH I'm loving this story so much!!! Here's chapter 3! I couldn't stop writing this lol

Summary: Sy and Lainie get ready for the campers to arrive. Everyone gets to know each other. It's a perfect summer day until...the weather takes a turn.

warnings: light cursing.

Reblogs and comments ALWAYS welcome! Please let me know what you think!!

Link for Ch2

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That night I barely slept. Buzzing with all of the energy from the day. The adrenaline and excitement and the butterflies. All of it ran through me like a high I didn’t want to come off of. But still I was skeptical. Was this the universe at play or was it just a coincidence? No, it couldn’t be. Not when all of my emotions seemed to be even stronger in his presence. And as much as I’d like to deny it, I still thought about him often. I had tried to let all of this go. But it’s like he had this grip on me. Everytime I tried to go out with someone new or go on a date. Or let someone touch me. It felt like I was betraying him. I knew that wasn’t true. I know Sy. He never really wanted me to wait forever, I don’t think either of us ever thought we’d see each other again. And if I had seen someone or been with someone he’d never hold that against me. But I just couldn’t do it.

At some point I must’ve drifted off to a restless sleep. My alarm woke me at 6:30AM. After our dip in the lake yesterday I definitely needed a shower. After a quick morning shower and getting ready for the day. In just some simple workout shorts and a t-shirt. It was supposed to get hot today. I decided to start working on decorations for the cabin before breakfast. I remember one year our counselor made signs with our names on them to hang over whatever bunk we’d chosen. I loved that idea.

I went through the roster becca had given me when I’d checked in yesterday and got to work carefully drawing each name and fun summer designs on each one. I wasn’t much of an artist but I was genuinely pretty impressed with myself.

Then I started to hang the garland letters sign I made for our door. Each year camp has a theme. And our counselors would come up with a name for our group or our cabin before we got there. It was always fun guessing and anticipating what cabin we would get. This year’s theme was classic movies. I smiled proudly to myself as I taped the string to the door after checking one last time to make sure it was straight. We were the “Pink Ladies” I may have a serious obsession with the film Grease.

I’d decided that if we were paired with one of the boys cabins we would be the pink ladies and I’d convince the boys counselor to be the T-birds. Luckily, Sy didn’t take much convincing. We talked about it yesterday before we started going over the icebreaker games. Although he did briefly try to change my mind and talked about the boys doing a “Top Gun” theme but he conceeded when I pouted. I made both our signs last night. After about an hour of trying to fall asleep I gave up and sat on the floor cutting the letters out of cardstock. I planned on taking the sign over to him after I figured out how to hang the fairy lights over the rafters. I climbed up onto the top bunk and started there making my way around the perimeter of the cabin. But there was still one long beam across the middle I started on the top bunk in one corner of the room but that only got me so far. I Pulled the little table in the center of the room over and climbed up standing on top of it. It was just tall enough for me to be able to toss the lights around and catch it on the other side of the beam. Just as I’d moved the table and climbed back up to start another section I heard the screen door open.

“What are you doin?” He asked an edge of panic in his voice. Sy was leaning against the door frame watching me.

“Hanging lights.” I shrugged, turning back to the task at hand.

“You’re gonna get hurt,” He said. Walking over to the table staring up at me to meet my eyes. I looked down shaking my head.

“I am not! I’m almost done once I finish this part I’m gonna climb onto the other bunk.” I explained wrapping the lights around one more time before starting to get down. I felt Logan’s hands on my waist steadying me and helping me off the table. “Thanks” I blushed turning away from him quickly it was to early for this.

“Anytime darlin, you want some help?” He asked. I shook my head as I climbed the ladder to the top bunk diagonal from mine.

“Nope this is the last part!” I said as I finished wrapping the lights around the beam. “Did you need something?” I asked. Looking down at him.

“Yeah you not to give me a heart attack!” He joked. I chuckled.

“I was fine Logan!” I argued. He shook his head.

“I was actually coming to see if you were ready to head over to breakfast?” He asked I looked down at my watch and looked back up.

“Is it 8:30 already?” I asked. He nodded.

“Sure is!” He smiled. I hopped down from the bunk laughing when his eyes went wide again.

“Jesus woman,” He laughed. “Would you stop trying to get hurt!” He chided.

“Oh so you can go of overseas and fight in a war, but I can’t do a little home decor without you threatening to put me in a bubble?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean you aren’t capable of doing it yourself darlin, it’s just if I remember right you tend to be accident prone.” He chuckled.

“That was 7 years ago! I was 17, I was a little clumsy. That’s all.” I defended.

“Sure,” He smiled. “You ready to go eat?” He asked. I nodded.

“Just let me grab some shoes!” I slipped on a pair of vans and we headed out the door.

I was so glad we took the time to sit down and enjoy breakfast because the rest of our morning and early afternoon went by so fast.

We had another staff meeting about greeting campers. And meeting parents. Dealing with home sickness. A crash course on first aid. The first day’s schedule. Luckily Sy and I were with the older kids. High school age. So our day’s weren’t quite as structured. But somehow that made me more nervous. What if they just brushed us off and none of our effort was even worth it.

I didn’t have time to think about it. At 1 pm right after lunch and after we finished. Some staff bonding games of our own it was time for check in. It was kind of a long process if I remember so I still had maybe 20 minutes before any of my campers would be there but I was still so nervous. I went and sat out on the picnic table writing down the schedule and some of the games Logan and I had talked about trying one last time to get all my thoughts organized. At one point when I looked up I saw him across the lawn standing on the porch of his cabin finally taping the sign I’d made to his door.

Better late than never I suppose. I giggled to myself. To be fair it’s a miracle the boys cabins ever participated in those sorts of things anyway. They never were ones to decorate. And their cabins always had a certain…smell to them. I shook my head and looked up again just in time to catch his eye across the lawn. I smiled sending him a little wave. I saw him grin and he waived back. Just as I thought about walking over to chat, a young girl and what i’m guessing is her mom stopped in front of the cabin.

“Cabin E?” The mom asked smiling. I nodded. Standing up to greet them.

“That’s me!” I smiled. “Welcome to camp!”

“Thank you!” She said. “This is Emma,” she gestured to her daughter.

“I can introduce myself mom,” she chided her mother. “I’ve been doing this for 4 years now.” Ah so she was a seasoned camper. She should be fun.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma, I’m Lainie, do you need help bringing anything inside? I asked gesutring to her bags.

“Oh I can help her!” Her mom jumped in. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Mom I love you, but you’re hovering. I got it from here.” She assured her. The womans face fell but she nodded.

“Alright I get it, it’s time for me to go.” she said. I gave her a sympathetic look.

“Hey Emma no one else is here yet why don’t you go choose your bunk and get settled in, I always liked to get here early too so I could get the bed I wanted.” I told her.

The girls eyes lit up and she nodded. She quickly hugged her mom and grabbed her bags walking toward the door.

“It’s just two weeks mom! I love you!” she said before she walked inside. Her mother smiled sadly and looked back to me.

“She’s so independent, I don’t know when that happened. She grew so fast. I’ll only get to do this with her one more year.” Her mother explained.

“She’s just excited, I remember these days. I was a camper myself not to long ago. But trust me, about half way through the first week. I would start to get a little home sick. We alway miss our mommas.” I told her.

“Thank you,” She smiled. “Sounds like she’s in good hands with you Lainie. I’d better go check on my son My husband is dropping off her twin brother Ethan. And they can both be a handful.” I laughed.

“I know the type,” I chuckled. She smiled before heading off in the direction of Sy’s cabin. When I looked over there was a boy, and an older man standing outside talking with him. Emma’s mother joined them. The boy had blonde hair just like the girls. Must be her brother I thought. I didn’t have much time to watch as two more campers and their family’s arrived. One whos name was Nicole she was also a camp alumn been coming just as long as Emma. It didn’t look like they knew each other very well though. Must not have been in the same cabin before. Nicole was a spitfire. Right out the gate. She walked right in claiming her bunk signing her name on the wall next to it, another camp tradition. She dismissed her parents right away as well. They stopped and talked for a bit but they’d done this before they didn’t have many concerns. The other girl was much more timid and shy. She reminded me of myself my first year of camp. She was about a year or 2 younger than the other girls. Her name was Ryleigh. She was quiet when she introduced herself. Her mother talked to me about concerns of her being social and making friends. She was worried about her. I understood that. But I also understood the way that this place had a tendency to open people up and make them feel safe. What I told her was. I’d keep an eye on her. She’s gonna have a fun summer. I promised that. Another hour had gone by and all of my campers had arrived. I had 8 girls in my Cabin. I welcomed them all and gave them each their sign to put up by their bunks.

“These are so cool!” Nicole said excitedly quickly climbing up to her bunk and taping it up immediately.

“I like these!” Emma said, “Is it okay if we add more drawings or sketches to them?” She asked. I nodded

“Absolutely they’re yours to do whatever you want with!” I smiled. “But if everyone is all settled in I think the boys are ready to meet up with us. Are you ready to meet everyone?” They were pretty excited to get things kicked off by this point most of the girls had been to camp at least once. They were ready to get the summer started.

Sy and I had decided that we would meet up on the lawn and just sit out on the grass as a group to start things off. When we walked over Nicole immediately ran over hugging one of the boys, must be old friends. They immediately sat next to each other in the grass as Sy and I told everyone to form a circle.

“Alright,” Sy spoke loudly getting everyones attention. “First we’d like to introduce ourselves. The boys have met me but ladies, I’m Logan, a lot of people call me Sy. I’ll answer to either one.” He smiled. I looked over and a couple of the girls were whispering to each other. I knew that face. I’d been the one making it years ago. Probably even still now. They thought he was cute. It’s so innocent those camp counselor crushes. I’d been there too. Once when I was 13 we had this counselor his name was Tanner. He was really nice and he played guitar and he sang. I was a sucker guys that were into music. I just smiled to myself, and realised it was my turn to talk.

“We’re so excited to have you all here, I’m excited to meet all of your boys as well Sy! I’m Alayna but for most of my life and especially around here, everyone has always called me Lainie. Sy and I are so happy to be back here, we were campers ourselves but it’s been 7 years since we’ve been to camp.” I said. I stifled a laughed watching a few of them try to do the math in their head to calculate how old we were.

“My family and I have been coming to camp since my dad was a kid,” Sy added. “I’m sure there are things that have changed since we’ve been here but there are some traditions that never wil!” He smiled. “You guys ready to kick off this summer?” They all cheered excitedly.

“Okay,” I spoke. “Some people love this and some people don’t but there are 16 of you, there’s no faster way for us to learn all of your names and you who you are than some icebreakers.” a few of them groaned. “I know, I know we’re gonna make this as painless as possible, we were campers too remember? We went back and tried to find the games we had the most fun doing.

“Everyone know how to play 2 truths and a lie?” Logan asked. Most of them nodded but we still explained the rules as a refresher. “But after we all guess.” He added. “We want you to talk a little bit more about one of your truths to us. Or explain why you chose that lie.” That seemed to really pique their interest. Beckett one of the boys in Logans cabin started the game.

“Alright,” he started. “I’m a lifeguard, One time when my friends and I were on a college campus tour we played a pick up game of football with some of the college players. Or as a senior prank we stole our math teachers car.” Everyone started laughing. This kid had charisma. I could already see some of the girls eyes getting all dreamy. He was funny too. Sy was going to enjoy having him as a camper.

“Did you still graduate?” Emma laughed. “No way you did that and didn’t get caught!” she said.

“I graduated,” He nodded smirking proudly.

“What position did you play?” Sy asked, talking about football.

“In school I was wide receiver.” He answered. A few of the others went around asking questions. And then we all made our guesses. We all for sure thought he was lying about the car.

“We got to sit in the stadium and watch them practice.” he said about the football. “But we didn’t get to play. I’d love to play in college though!” He added. The boys started laughing and the some of the girls shook their heads.

“No freaking way,” Nicole said “How’d you pull that off, How’d you steal the car?” He smiled proudly, this guy was going to be our camp clown for sure.

“One of my buddies TA’d for him and he would ask him to get stuff for him out of his car sometimes. So we came up with the idea that when he asked we would meet down there and move it to the student parking lot. He was a super chill guy. He thought it was funny! After he found his car anyway!” We all laughed. The game continued on. They all had a lot of fun with it. Some of them coming up with really strategic lies. Or just basic stuff they wanted us to know about them. It turned out great. It was Ryleigh’s turn last. I could see she was nervous she’d been avoiding going the whole time.

“Uh, I’m Ryleigh,” She spoke softly. “I’m in band, uh I-I really like to read, and one time in middle school I won a rollerskating contest at our roller rink,” She was playing with her fingers looking at the ground.

“What’s your favoirte book?” I asked her. She looked up for a second giving me a nervous smile.

“Uhm Thousand Words by Jennefer Brown,” She said. I smiled

“I’ve read that Its really good!” one of the girls said. I watched her face light up a little bit.

“What instrument do you play?” Sy asked.

“I play guitar.” She said. He nodded giving her a soft smile. One of the boys asked about the roller skating thing and a few other questions and we all guessed.

“I don’t think you roller skate,” Ethan, Emma’s twin brother said.

“I do!,” she smiled surprised she had fooled most of us. “I’m actually not in band. I do play guitar though! My dad taught me.” she said.

“That’s so cool!” Beckett said. “Did you bring your guitar with you? You could totally play at campfire!” He said. She blushed and nodded slightly.

“I did.” she said.

“Sweet!” He smiled at her.

Our afternoon was going really well. We talked to the kids about what things they wanted to make sure we did as a group this summer. What traditions were important to them. The boys were so excited to help Logan start planning for the prank war. At somepoint we were going to play flashlight hide and seek. That was always fun. We always set that up right after it started to get dark. They wanted to do a camp fire breakfast. We made them promise they were going to get up early to help us with it. But they were mainly just excited to hang out with their friends and do whatever we had planned. They were such a great bunch of kids. It always seemed like no matter the generation. We always reverted back to a state of innocence when we were at camp. Leaving technology behind and just being present.

It was turning out to be a perfect first day. We had the kids make their name tags and were playing a few more group games before dinner. But just as we were finishing up our last game it started to sprinkle. We gathered everyone up to head over to the dining hall and the sky let loose. It started to rain steadily. We all ran over from the Cabin’s making it inside just before it started to down pour.

“Well,” Logan said from behind me making me jump, He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare ya darlin, but I bet they cancel the welcome campfire tonight, it’ll be way to wet now.” He said. I nodded.

“That sucks. Some of the girls were looking forward to it. They had friends in other cabins they wanted to see. I had no idea it was supposed to rain.” I said.

“Yeah, I was checking the weather on my way in yesterday. Could Possibly turn into a pretty rough thunderstorm.” He added.

“Oh,” I said softly, biting my lip. I hated storms. Especially at camp. The cabins always felt so small and so thin. Like they wouldn’t hold. It was the one time I didn’t feel safe. But I played it off. “Guess we’ll be inside the rest of the evening then!”

During dinner they did infact announce that they were canceling the big welcome camp fire. It was for all the age groups at camp to welcome everyone all at once. And then each night each of the age groups had their own campfire. But we’d be doing neither of those things tonight. So much for the perfect first day. After dinner we decided to run over to the rec room. There was a pool table, and darts. Foosball, card games, board games, all of the inside entertainment we would could ever hope for. A few of the other cabin groups decided to head there too. So the campers had a lot of fun. Most of them reunited with old camp friends and made some new ones. Some of them sat down to play some pretty intense card games or board games. Some just chose to sit and talk. I was feeling really good about our first day. But then I saw Ryleigh sitting by herself. My heart broke for her. I understood how having anxiety could make these situations so difficult. I was just about to go talk with her when Sy approached.

“She’s a real sweet girl,” He said.

“You noticed too, huh?” I asked. He nodded.

“Yeah, hate to mention it but, kinda reminds me of you, in our days here.” He said.

“I was just thinking the same thing. I was gonna go talk to her, see if there’s anything I can do to help.” I sighed.

“Not yet, give it a minute.” He spoke. I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” I questioned.

“Just trust me, give it a minute.” He smirked crossing his arms. I stared at him confused for a moment. What did he know that I didn’t. But it very quickly made sense.

“No you guys go ahead and start the next round I’ll be back,” I heard one of the boys say from the table where the campers had a big Uno game going. It was Beckett I watched as he stood from the table and nervously ran his hand through his messy hair. But then his demenor switched as he put on a charming smile and a confident mask. He walked over to where Ryleigh was sitting on a beanbag in the corner doodling on a piece of paper. He plopped down next to her.

“Whatcha doin?” He asked her. She jumped startled not expecting anyone to be there.

“Just, sketching…” she answered.

“You draw?” He asked. She shook her head.

“Not really but…” I stopped listening. Letting them have their own conversation. I wouldn’t want someone to eavesdrop on a moment like this if I were her.

“How did you…?” I trailed off. Sy chuckled. His shoulders shaking with laughter.

“He noticed her a while ago. I’ve been watching him try to work up the nerve to go over there for the last 10 minutes.” he laughed. I smiled.

“Wait, so you think he likes her?” I asked.

“Oh, he definitely likes her. If the military taught me one thing. It’s how to be observant. He’s had his eye on her since we all met up this afternoon.” he smirked.

“That’s so cute,” I smiled

“I was the same way with you!” He admitted. I almost choked on air.

“I never noticed that,” I said. He shook his head smiling.

“Yeah, cause you were so quiet and stuck in your own head to realize what was going on. You didn’t even realized you liked me back until the second year we were at camp together.” He laughed.

“You did NOT like me first!” I argued.

“Did too, Just because you didn’t notice doesn’t mean it wasn’t true.” He smirked. I opened my mouth to argue but there was a loud crack of thunder making me jump. I swallowed hard and looked down at the floor trying to hide the panic in my eyes.

“Still don’t like storms huh?” He questioned. I bit my lip looking up at him and shook my head.

“Hate them,” I said. Another roll of thunder and I felt myself tense. Sy put his hands on my shoulders making me look up at him.

“It’s arlight we’re safe inside.” he assured me. I nodded. He and I walked over and sat with a few of the other counselors talking for a bit and keeping an eye on our campers. About 20 minutes later the weather alert went off on the radio in the rec room. We were under a severe thunderstorm warning. We could hear the rain pounding against the roof. My heart pounded in my chest. And the thunder was getting closer. Louder. 5 minutes later. The power went out.

Sy immediately jumped up to take control of the room.

“Everybody stay calm,” He spoke softly. I heard a zipper and some rustling. He’d pulled out a large flashlight from his bag. One of the counselors walkie talkies went off. Sy lifted his to his ear to listen.

“Okay guys, just relax we’re gonna stay here until the storm lets up. Hopefully the power comes back on. Until then weve got some lantern flashlights to set up around the room. Just keep hanging out we’re alright.” He assured them. Sy and one of the other boys counselrs went into a supply closet finding the LED lantern lights they had 5 of them and set them out throughout the room illuminating it just enough for the kids to see and still be able to play cards or board games or talk. Some of the girls were a little nervous so I put on my best brave face to go over and talk to them.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Emma asked. I nodded.

“We’re shielded from the storm and there aren’t many windows in here. We’re perfectly safe.”

“I hate this.” another girl said.

“I know, it’s not fun but it’ll,” another loud crack of thunder and I jumped. My breathing shaky, “It’ll.. It will uhm…” I started but I couldn’t get the sentence out the panic starting to take over.

The girls both had nervous looks on their face. I was worrying them. Shit. I suck at this.

“It’ll pass soon and we’ll head back to the cabins for the night.” I heard Sy say behind me. His hand softly pressed to my lower back. “Don’t worry we’ll get out of here and right back to all the fun stuff tomorrow.” he gave them a reassuring smile.

They nodded. And I felt Logan gently leading me away. There was a small hallway that was out of the way and he pulled me to the side. “You alright?” He asked. I shook my head starting to feel myself shaking.

“I-I can’t I can’t do this. I, how am I supposed to help them when I’m too scared myself and, I just I hate this.I feel like I can’t breathe!” I sniffed. He pulled me into him wrapping his arms around me gently shushing me.

“Shhh it’s alright. You’re gonna be okay.” He said, holding me to him. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He soothed.

“I’m sorry.” I breathed.

“Don’t, it’s alright.” he whispered. “Just keep breathing for me,” He talked me through it. And when I calmed down we walked back out sitting on one of the couches again. I stayed quiet a moment watching the room.

“Sy,” I spoke finally. Just as I went to thank him his radio was going off again. We were cleared to head back to the cabins. The heavy part of the storm had passed but it was still raining. We ran back and Sy and I parted on the lawn getting our campers settled. He got the boys back to his cabin and they settled in. He made sure they all made it back

“Alright boys I’ll be right back I’m gonna go check on the girls make sure they all made it!” he told them. He ran over across the lawn and knocked on our door. I answered quickly and let out a deep breath when I saw it was him.

“You girls alright?” he asked.

“Yeah!” some of them answered. I smiled

“We’re okay.” I said softly. He smiled and nodded for me to join him out on the porch. I turned back to the girls “I’ll be right back ladies, go ahead and get ready for bed, lights out is in 30 minutes!” I told them. I closed the door behind me. And let the sceen door slam shut.

“Are you okay?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I am,...Thank you for helping me back there,” I said.

“This isn’t our first storm together honey,” He smiled. “I’ll always be there to help ya.” I blushed.

“You’ve always been such a gentleman. You’re mama raised you right.” I smiled.

“Nah, just with you, comes naturally,” He said. I felt my cheeks heat up even more and I looked away trying to compose myself.

“So, was that…all?” I asked. He stepped closer to me until I was leaning against the picnic table.

“No,” He smiled. “There’s one other thing.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek his eyes staring down into mine. I couldn’t take it anymore. We’d drawn this out for too long. 7 years too long. I wrapped one arm around his neck the other hand gently resting on the back of his head pulling him down to me. He responded immediately pressing his lips to mine. His other hand found my waist pulling me close holding me against him. All of the air left my lungs as I kissed him back with everything I had. I whimpered softly when he pulled away.

“Shit, “ He smiled breathless. “Only took me 7 years but I uh..” He breathed “just wanted to kiss you goodnight.” I nodded still cathing my breath smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.

“One more for good measure?” I asked blushing. He smirked. And pulled me in again kissing me softer this time. It was slow and sensual. He leaned his forehead against mine when he pulled away.

“A man could get addicted to that,” he said. I smiled slowly trailing my hand from his should and down his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind.” I laughed. He chuckled and pecked my lips one more time.

“Goodnight Darlin’”

“Goodnight, Sy” I watched him run through the rain back to his cabin and I stood their for a moment regaining my composure before I went back inside. Just as I was about to open the door. I heard the one of the girls say

“No, I’m serious you guys I think they’re married!” it sounded like Nicole

“Nikki, Neither one of them is wearing a ring!” Emma said.

“Okay well dating at least, They’re like super in love! You should’ve seen them in the rec room! I had to pee and they were in the hall by the bathrooms. He was like holding her it was so cute!”

“Aww that’s so sweet, she was definitely scared! I felt so bad!” One of the other girls, Chloe added.

“I know, OH MY GOD! Do you think they’ll let us call them Mom and Dad? Remember last year when we had Carrie and Andrew and they were married? That was so cute they literally treated us like their kids!” nicole squealed.

“I hope so!” Emma said “I really like them! They’re both so nice, and I really hope they’re dating if they’re not they need to be, because they’d be so cute together!” I chuckled to myself before opening the door and they’re attention turned to me but they went quiet.

“Okay girls gossip time is over! Time for lights out!” I said. They groaned.

“Okay but wait, are you and Logan Married?” Nicole asked.

“Nicole do you see a ring? What did I just say? But you two are dating right?!” Emma added. I chuckled to myself and shook my head.

“Goodnight girls.”

“Ugh fine be like that girl,” Nicole pouted.

“Goodnight Lainie!” Emma called.

“Goodnight,” Ryleigh said softly. The rest of the girls settled in and I turned out the lights and climbed into my bunk. I bit my lip and smiled to myself holding in an excited. Squeal. Maybe this was still the perfect first day after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#henry cavill #captain syverson #fanfic writing #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #captain syverson smut #henry cavil x reader #henry cavill smut #captain syverson imagine #captain syverson fluff #captain sy x reader #august walker fanfiction #august walker

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prince-liest · 2 months

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I just wanna gush bc omg I love the 666 series so much. I think it made me realize I might be... furry-ish? adjacent? I just find it so satisfying how you go into detail about the unique body features of both of them, the way it feels to have deer ears or kiss a TV and just generally how much thought is put into the way their bodies work, and I've realized that my interest in that kind of idea is a pretty good reason to partake in more explicitly furry media lmao. Anyways

I'm also really in love with how you maintain the balance of each of their personality traits. Vox is simultaneously so pathetic and cringefail (also your dialogue for him is perfect, I can hear it crystal clear in my head) but also he has vastly more emotional intelligence than Alastor, no doubt at least in part because he has to deal with Val, and he's able to marginally calm down with his obsession to deal with sticky situations, but even then he still retains his personality and bumbles things sometimes because of the flaws in said personality! It's great. I also really appreciate the balance you've struck with Alastor, I feel like often Alastor is either written to either soften up so immediately that it feels disconnected from his character or is written overly mean and heartless for my liking and the way you've written him is such a delicious balance between softer aspects such as the prey instincts or moments of vulnerability and his untouchable and manipulative self, and also the way this side of him is neither written as wholly a front or wholly his real nature and the complex ways this makes him struggle with his increasing vulnerability. TL;DR arghgr your characterization is so good it makes me go a little feral

Also while I'm here, I'm curious whether you can give an answer to the degree to which Alastor is touch-averse. There's obviously a lot of ways in which he fundamentally dislikes touch but it also seems like there's at least some kinds of touch where he doesn't dislike the touch itself so much as he's afraid of the way it brings about feelings of caring and/or enjoyment being cared for. I'm curious how much, in general, you would say his touch aversion comes from either cause and possibly what kinds of touch do/don't provoke those flavors of aversion

Omg, what a lovely ask to receive. Honestly, everything you said that you enjoy about how I characterize these two is very much what I've been actively gunning for, so it's an absolute delight to see it outlined back to me. Success!!! Thank you so much!

And ahaha - I'm not a furry but I fucking love inhuman characters. Being raised in the pits of Homestuck fantroll RP made me enjoy the whole "they're bug/fish aliens" thing and it definitely rears its head again any time I encounter characters with inhuman qualities. I love writing Vox's TV/computer-ness and Alastor's deer and radio bits, and integrating them into who they now are as people.

As for Alastor's touch-aversion: It's funny that you ask about this, because the next chapter of 666 is going to dive into it a bit. Specifically into the fact that it's not, like, a set of boundaries that is consistently defined, and I write him that way on purpose. The very first time he and Vox sleep together, Alastor bottoms. He becomes significantly less amenable to touch after he goes through an uncomfortable rut cycle that gets sexual. By the time Vox convinces Alastor to fuck him, Alastor would never let Vox do that again and frankly only agrees to topping because Vox gave him an option that didn't involve getting his dick out. Then in the next episode, they're having clothes-off sexual contact. So, what gives?

Things that play into Alastor's willingness to touch and be touched as far as Vox is concerned:

How does he see Vox at that point in time? Disgustingly entitled (ew)? Hilariously beneath him (haha who cares)?

Does he care about what Vox thinks of him? Does Vox touching him draw his attention to positive or negative assumptions he has about Vox's perspective on doing so?

What value has he attached to this particular touch in the power balance of their relationship? Is he humoring Vox? Does he assume Vox thinks he's owed this? Does he perceive it as something Vox is genuinely doing for him?

Has he tried this particular kind of touch before? He's pretty willing to experiment, but that doesn't mean he'll do something twice without a compelling reason if he didn't like it the first time.

Is he getting off on this situation sexually? If so, is it fully willing (read: not a byproduct of uncomfortable hormones) on his part? That only really happens when he's in a submissive role and Vox is hitting a few very specific kinks, a major one of which is basically CNC tilted 30 degrees to the left.

Is he enjoying the touch in platonic ways? How does he feel about that? Is it a vulnerability to want something? Is it feeding his ego to be catered to? Is he worried that what he enjoys platonically is being read into in ways he doesn't like?

Is he fucking drunk? Things that bother you when sober often seem like a non-issue when you're not, both on a physical and emotional level.

How much touching has been happening recently? Has he hit his limit? Did he deliberately put himself into a situation earlier to have his limit be hit and surpassed, and now he's in the aftermath?

He does have a certain fundamental purely physical dislike of touch, but it's something that is really affected by how he perceives each individual situation as well as his relationship with Vox at that time, and his previous experiences!

#ask #personal #Anonymous #t #hazbin hotel #my writing #666 live on air #I'm not a furry but the perils of being agender aromantic and asexual #aka the full complement of “none of the above” box checks LOL #means that a lot of the time I feel vaguely detached from the ways people tend to even subconsciously define humanity #I think that's where a lot of my appreciation for inhuman traits in very human characters comes from #(also my favorite SFF genre is “non-human entity struggles with very human emotions” as well a la murderbot and imperial radsch)#(ANYWAY. tangent.)#long post

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sunshine-jesse · 6 months

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In defense of Andrew Graves: A character arc in one sentence

HEY! I rewrote this essay and fleshed it out a lot. I'm keeping the original here for posterity, but the new version renders this one completely obsolete. Find it here!

I've focused a lot on Ashley in my past writings. She's my favorite character in the story (and depending on how episode 3 pans out, maybe ever) and I'm pretty mortified by how some parts of the fandom have reacted towards her, so I pretty much made it my life's mission to push back against that. From highlighting the ways Andrew mistreats her, to coming up with justifications for her behavior that aren't just being a manipulative bitch, I really wanted to prove that a more favorable picture of her could be painted than most were willing to.

But in doing so, I've left Andrew in the dust.

In highlighting his flaws and the ways he mistreats Ashley, I think I've implied a level of intentionality to his actions that I don't believe he has. Most of his worst actions are spur of the moment, or caused by a fundamental conflict that exists between his desires and his idea of the way things should be. That doesn't excuse them, obviously! But they do reveal interesting things about his character and how it develops over the course of the game. He starts out as a doormat, but eventually settles on either his bitterness or a sense of calmness and acceptance, both over Ashley.

But what exactly causes this change?

There's plenty of reason to believe that he was slowly evolving before the story took place, but within the context of the work itself, I believe there are two points where he can no longer ignore the changes that have happened to this point, both of which are in the first chapter: The killing of the warden and the 302 lady. In the first case, he was forced to do it to protect Ashley in a way he hadn't done before, or depending on how you look at it, since the death of Nina. But the intentionality was the key point here. After this point, he calls Ashley Leyley, which may or may not seem important at this point, but it's something I'll draw attention to later, so keep that in mind.

Next is the killing of the 302 lady, which is the much, much bigger point. We don't learn much about it until later on- as at first he just gives an excuse about the nail gun that doesn't line up with what we see on the map- but during the dream, it's revealed it was a calculated, intentional killing that he did to make sure there was no evidence left behind, and because Ashley (supposedly) would've wanted him to do it anyway. I say supposedly because Ashley herself doesn't seem to ever want Andrew to kill for her past Nina's death, because he only ever kills for her to defend one or both of them. If you want more evidence that violence for violence's sake isn't something she wants, look at this part in the final dream:

A knife isn't what opens the door, despite it being placed on the ground in that very map. While it seems obvious that the knife (violence) would be the key to solving the puzzle, it's put there explicitly to show you that it isn't. It's not what she wants; what she wants is a flower.

So, why is this important? Why am I centering Ashley- again- when this essay is supposed to be about Andrew?

Because I think it's important to point out the discrepancy between what he thinks Ashley wants, and what she really wants. When Ashley starts to grill Andrew over the killing of the 302 lady, he gets mad. Very mad. Ashley sees it as pointless, as him covering his own ass, but he genuinely did it for her sake, because he thought that's what she wanted, and that it'd make her happy. But what makes her happy isn't violence- or any similarly extreme action for that matter- it's attention and validation. Something he's always reluctant to give her, despite the fact that he always chose her over the alternatives. But despite making that choice, it's always empty and meaningless, because in Ashley's mind, he never did it for her sake.

And hoo boy, does he not like it being framed like this.

But is she wrong, though? He WAS the one who chopped up the Warden, and he WAS the one who chose to kill the 302 lady. Violence is his job, it's all he knows. He has to do it to take care of Leyley, right? To protect her? To keep her happy? Then why doesn't he ever acknowledge it? Why does he never admit that he did it for her sake, to keep her happy?

Because he doesn't know what he sees her as.

In his unique dream sequence, he sees two versions of Ashley; the child version of her- Leyley- and the adult version of her- Ashley. And the differences in the ways he interacts with the two of them are stunning. Leyley is an obstinate, annoying child. She's the one he NEEDS to take care of, and he hates that. He hates Leyley for what she did for his childhood. He hates that he needs to provide for her. He has the option of trying to kill her, even, over something as small as a candle!

But in the room with all the murders, the gilded cage, he sees Ashley as an adult. This version of Ashley is stuck in a closet that he himself has to open- and to choose to see. Their interactions are calm and friendly. She teases him a bit, sure, but she's still helpful, and they have fun together. He doesn't need her, and she doesn't need him. He needed Leyley- needed the candle- but here, there are other limbs strewn about for him to take. And, crucially, he doesn't even have the option to kill this Ashley for one of the limbs.

And during the choking scene, he lets her go the moment she acknowledges that he doesn't need her anymore.

What he really wants is Ashley for Ashley's sake. Not for what she can provide him. He doesn't even need her for sleep, he just wants her. But Ashley has trouble acknowledging this, because he's never before shown that WANT. Only a NEED. She keeps trying to find ways to make him need her, because she's never seen what his desire for her is really like. She's only ever seen him desiring someone else, someone other than her. She's only ever seen him as Andy, because she's never truly seen Andrew, only the violence he can inflict on others. Andrew, meanwhile is arguably further along in the realization of their relationship, because he can see and acknowledge both sides of Ashley.

He can see Leyley, the needy, bratty child who always needs his attention, that he needs to provide for. The one he hates and wants to get rid of. The one he kills for to protect. And he can see Ashley, the one who engages in friendly and cute banter with him. Who comforts and shows him physical affection. The one he loves. The one he kills for to make happy.

He just can't choose which one he wants to see. Every outside influence- from his parents, to Julia, to Nina- makes him see her as Leyley. Ashley herself makes him see her as Leyley too, whenever she brings up all the things he did for her, and calls him Andy, his child self, instead of Andrew, his current self. And as long as he sees that child, he feels like one too, and can never give Ashley anything that comes from the heart.

But he really, really wants to see Ashley as an adult. He wants to take pride in her, how much she's grown, and how driven and competent she really is.

But god damn, does that bitch ever make it hard.

But in the end, it's him who has to make the choice how to see her. Ashley can only see what she's shown, but Andrew can choose.

And in the basement scene, he makes that choice.

If Ashley refuses to leave him alone with their parents, that's it. In one of the most critical and important moments of his life, she couldn't give him the space needed to make up his own mind. She couldn't treat him as an adult. She couldn't see him as Andrew. If she does give him that choice, she chooses to acknowledge that Andrew is an adult who can be trusted to make his own decisions, even though she (perhaps foolishly) believes that this choice lines up with her own interests. And frankly it does either way, but in accepting their mom's offer, her chooses to see her as Leyley once and for all. He chooses not to reciprocate what Ashley showed him. He does it because he needs to, not because he wants to. Because it's his duty, not his desire.

But if he WANTS to?

That respect becomes mutual.

In choosing to treat each other like adults, to treat their relationship as one of desire rather than need, Andy starts to die. From that point on, their relationship becomes a lot more friendly, lighthearted, and playful. They ironically start acting more like children, but to quote CS Lewis:

"Critics who treat adult as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence."

He's not ashamed of being playful with Ashley, or showing affection towards her. He's grown up. He finally sees her, and himself, as an adult- although he still doesn't show that in full until much later on (more or that later). But in Decay, he still sees her as a child, and to an extent, probably himself. Let's compare the ways in which he reacts to being called Andy. In Decay, he lashes out at Ashley and gets angry, even threatening her. But in Questionable Burial, he calmly says that Andy is dead and doesn't need Ashley's comfort, but still tries to reassure her that she's still needed. He's not ashamed of or hostile towards their prior dynamic, because he's grown past it. He still recognizes Ashley's need to feel needed, but he still RECOGNIZES it, where he was hostile towards it before.

It's a display of respect towards her feelings.

This interaction doesn't happen in the Sane ending, however. He doesn't play games with her and is just a lot less fun to be around all together. Why is that? Because he still hasn't yet shaken viewing Ashley as Leyley there. He still views her as a burden, as someone who needs taking care of. He's calmly accepted that, too, mind you, but he lacks respect for her because she's still a child, in his mind. But in Questionable?

The vision did more than just make him extremely embarrassed and lay his deepest desires bare. It forced him to recognize Ashley as an adult. When choosing between "Never" and "Never say never," if Never is chosen, the burden of thought is lifted off of him. But if Ashley chooses "Never say never!", he has to reckon with the fact that Ashley is an adult, someone who can consent to those kinds of things. Someone who MIGHT. Someone who has agency, and can make her own decisions. And more importantly… someone who can trust him to make his own.

Whether he desires sex or not is secondary; he's always had those feelings and has always been ashamed of it. But now that the part of him where that shame came from is dead and buried, there's no childish impulse to grow up. There's no attachment to the hate and bitterness he had before. Look at what he worries about when he picks up that she's uncertain or confused about who he is now:

This is the one sentence I was referring to in the title.

It's her feelings.

He wants to be fun to be around. He wants to make Ashley happy. He loves her, and not as a romantic interest or even as a sibling. He loves her independent of all that baggage.

He loves her as a person.

In learning to respect Ashley, our boy has finally grown up. But there's a certain intimacy to being hurt by someone else that Ashley isn't getting in this ending, and now she has to reckon with that. And that's really, really hard to do when you're so used to being hurt.

Especially when you're no longer around someone who wants to kill the part of you that needs nurturing the most.

#andrew graves #ashley graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #gaming #tcoaal #tcoaal essay #gravecest

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d-dixonimagines · 1 year

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can u do enemy to lover prompt five

Prompt: "Don't touch me!" "How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can't touch you?"

I don't know what to really label this as. It's mild angst? If you wanna call it that? Reader is more moody than I originally anticipated them to be. Also, I clearly don't know how to clean wounds or how they would do it in the show, so the way it's described here is probably wrong.

Right from the very start of the day you and Daryl had been at each other's throats, bickering and yelling like you'd been married for 50 years. So it was beyond you why Rick thought it was a good idea to make you two go on a run together. Surely he knew there would be a chance that only one of you came back, and not because of any walker. The run wasn't supposed to be that big a deal. A quick day trip scouring for supplies and literally anything that would be of use and that you could carry. Everything had gone surprisingly well until you were making your way back. There was a run-in with a small hoard of walkers that happened to wander through where you were at; too many of them for just two people to deal with. You both made your way towards an abandoned house, killing off as many of the walkers as you could, focusing only on the ones that were a higher risk. If you had tried to pock off every single one, it would become too easy to get overwhelmed and ambushed as they all crowded together. So your only goal was to retreat to safety.

"Over here!" You heard Daryl's voice over the commotion of the moaning walkers. Yanking your knife from one of their skulls, you turned in Daryl's direction and made your way over. You both were almost at the house, eyeing it just beyond the tree line. There were scattered walkers wandering the property, making it difficult to make a direct run for it. "We should just keep moving. See if there's another place further down." You suggested, not seeing any other option. Daryl just shook his head. "Nah... we don't know how far the next place could be. This could be our only option. We jus' need'a plan." "We don't have time for a plan," you rolled your eyes, using every will power you had to not raise your voice and draw more attention. "I can see that, that's why we ain't gonna waste our time lookin' for somethin' else." Daryl growled back. "There's gotta be about seven or eight up there.. if we clear 'em out, go 'round either side of the house, there's bound to be a way inside." Glancing behind you to see the other walkers closing in, you let out a frustrated groan, getting yourself ready to run. "Gah!" If we make it out of this, Dixon, I'm gonna kill you myself!" You yelled, running off towards the house before he had a chance to sass you back. Clearing out your half of the yard, you quickly checked the front door to see if it would open but had no such luck. You continued round to the side of the house, killing off any stragglers. Finding a window above a pile of old wood, you attempted to climb up it to get a better grip of the window. When it didn't budge, you went to smash it but was interrupted when you felt hands grabbing at you, knocking you unstable. You let out a startled yelp as you struggled to keep the walker at bay, fighting to hold it back so you could reach for your weapon. It was just out of your reach, you could feel the tips of your fingers grazing it, scrambling to get some kind of traction to get a better grip. Daryl rounded the corner, stabbing the thing in the head and throwing it off you. "Finally you show up," you snapped at him, standing up quickly and grabbing your gun. "That's a funny way of sayin' thank you fer savin' yer ass." You just scoffed, holding your arm, not having any time to check the damage. "Did you find a way in?" "'Course I did, Princess. This ain't my first rodeo." You ignored his comments and followed him to the back door, barricading yourselves inside. After checking the rest of the house, you allowed yourself to relax just a bit once you knew it was cleared. Daryl set his things down on top of the counter and looked around the kitchen, checking to see if there was anything edible to eat. You wandered off in search of a mirror to tend to your arm. Raiding through the medicine cabinets and drawers, you didn't find much that would help. Just a tolerably clean cloth and some gauze. You started cleaning around it, as best you could, wadding up the cloth, dropping it, getting frustrated with... just... everything.

"Need help?" Daryl's voice brought you out of your head. You only looked at him for a second, getting a glimpse of him leaning against the doorframe before looking at your arm again. "I got it." He scoffed. "An infection is what yer gonna get if ya don't clean it right." "It'll have to do until we get back, won't it? I don't exactly have a lot of options here." "Water might help at least." "You see any water lying around?" "Yup..." Daryl stated simply, holding up a half filled jug. You kept your gaze on him, your eyes narrowing at him in irritation. Snatching the jug from his hand, you set it down harshly on the sink. You struggled with getting the cloth wet, not really able to use your injured arm. "Let me help." He pushed himself from the door frame. "I said I got it." Daryl didn't accept that answer, knowing you were just being stubborn. He reached over and grabbed the cloth from you, getting it damp before raising it as a silent request to keep going. Without saying anything, you contemplated for a long moment before slightly turning your body so he could get at it better. "This'll sting a bit," Daryl spoke gently, taking the water and pouring it over the wound, causing you to let out a hiss and jerk your arm back. "That hurts!" "I told ya! Ya can't get mad at me after I warned ya." You just huffed, turning back so he could continue cleaning the wound. After setting the rag down, he grabbed the gauze and gently gripped your arm, but before he could place it, you jerked out of his hold again. "Don't touch me!" Daryl let out a breathy sigh of frustration. "How am I supposed ta bandage ya up if I can't touch ya?" You stared daggers into him but he just stared back. The longer you stared at him, the more realization set in that being angry wasn't going to help anything. You weren't even really angry, you were just frustrated and overwhelmed. Daryl was only trying to help and you needed to calm down. Going back to where you were, you turned your body so he could fix you up, letting him do what he needed to. He placed the gauze on your arm and wrapped it as neatly as he could, tucking the end piece in to the rest of the material. "There... now ya have a better chance of yer arm not rotting off." There was a faint hint of smirk at the corner of his lips that you would have missed if you weren't looking at them.

You glanced down at your arm as you pushed off the sink. "My hero," you responded sarcastically. There was a beat before you looked up at him again. "Thanks..." There was another pause as you examined his face, that playful smirk vanished. "I mean it. Thank you," Your voice was softer, more relaxed. Daryl gave a soft nod before leaving the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen. "I'm starvin', I think I saw an opossum on the back porch." The moment was gone. You let out a loud groan as you followed behind him, revving up to give him an earful!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead imagines

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coltermorning · 4 months

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A New Year to Remember (A Christmas to Remember Pt. 2, RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: With another meeting planned on the first day of the year, you eagerly await the possibilities it could bring.

Author’s Notes: I just had to write this one—it was too cute for me not to :) Part one is here.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, fluff

AO3 Link

A New Year to Remember

Word count: 3238

Monday, Emerald Ranch

You clutched the concise letter in your hand, like doing so would bleed the words from the page enough to make time pass with urgency. But it wouldn’t. You would wait. This would be worth it.

It had been five days since you’d seen Arthur, five days sitting on the feeling that drawing of his had bloomed within you. He wanted your hand in marriage. You were still a little dumbfounded over it, still unbelieving you had ever earned something so good in this life, especially considering the circumstances. But he, like you, had come to know one thing—love was stronger. Consequences be damned. So you waited.

You sat under the awning at the livery, ready to rid yourself of Valentine entirely if not for the rain that fell in a torrent. It wasn’t cold enough for snow, and the downpour deterred you unlike anything the colder weather could do. All you wanted was to be in Emerald Ranch. No matter that you had two days left to wander around without cause, without purpose other than the need to see the man you loved. But the weather had other ideas. You wouldn’t find yourself ill for stubbornness either due to the drenching weather, so you would force yourself to wait, to dream, to imagine what this meeting would lead to.

The very idea of marriage had always been picturesque to you. A slow-moving march in a wedding gown. Love so full the smiles caught. Daily life made better by another, by a partner. And putting a face to the man who would stand at the other side was more fulfilling than you thought possible. Arthur’s awe as you approached him, heart in hand. His smile over getting to call you his in fondness and in name. The days yet to come, endless days made for being together and nothing more. It was too good to be true.

It wouldn’t always be easy. You knew that, though you didn’t care. It was certain the pair of you would have to leave this area of the country. Even using Arthur’s name here was dangerous, in the place where everything had gone wrong for him. Fingers pointed and blame thrown around like fire, catching, spreading, destroying everything it touched. But somehow, not him. He was pure as gold, his soul coming out more gilded for all that harrowing encounter put him through. A second chance at life. A chance to do it better this time. And oh, how much better he was when it came to you. He was a boy in a man’s clothing, his love as fragile as a bird, never knowing anything but betrayal yet wanting more still. Wanting and wanting and wanting, enough to make your heart break for him. Because you would give that to him until the end of your days, until he didn’t feel the need to want so desperately anymore. It would be natural to him one day—to love and be loved in return. You would see to it with absolute surety. Because if you knew anything about him, you knew this: a man so hardened by life, so broken by it, to still have such a strong love for the very thing that rejected him…he deserved it more than anyone. And you, of all people, had the privilege of bestowing that love on him. You would do your best to make it count. To make him believe in it once more, to never have to fear losing it. What an honor.

Sitting on an upturned crate hiding from the rain, you dragged out the journal he had given you and began to draw. You drew the feeling in your chest until it turned into Arthur on the page, your hand mimicking the love he held for you despite all odds. His hands resting on his gun belt, his broad yet relaxed shoulders, his smirking grin with a cigarette between it. All things that made him the man he was, all things that he gave to you without even knowing it. What did it mean to love someone? As you drew line after line, stroke after stroke, the image coming to you as natural as breathing, you thought you knew.

It was Monday. The first day of the new year. The rain had stopped early yesterday morning, and you had chased its end out of town and straight to Emerald Ranch. You had been not-so-patiently waiting around, wondering what time to plan on seeing him. Even your horse had grown restless beneath you, perhaps wondering why you led it in endless circles with no true destination. Alas, where you were headed couldn’t be reached by map. The thought made you smile.

You were riding through the middle of the small settlement, straight out of town only to inevitably turn back, when you heard it.

“There she is.”

The familiar voice made your heart leap, and you turned and found Arthur atop his horse, hands crossed over his saddle horn, smiling at you. For all the world, like this was the most regular meeting in it. You rolled your horse back and spurred it on, going to him, dropping to the ground before you could even pull up the reins.

“Arthur,” you said, all the happiness felt for him pouring out in the utterance. He was dismounting and pulling you into a hug in seconds, his smile contagious.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t be apart from him a moment longer, all the waiting around doing a number on you. You pulled away and leaned up, kissing him. Then kissing him some more. Enough that when you broke apart, he was laughing fondly, his face red as a beet.

“My drawing didn’t scare you off I see,” he said, though he knew the answer to that. You had written him within minutes of seeing the damned thing, telling him to get his ass back to town, berating him for leaving it in the first place.

“No,” you answered anyway. “Quite the opposite.”

“Hm,” he muttered, tilting his head in feigned thought. “Guess we’ll have to do something about that.” And the smug look he gave you, his face so close and so darn kissable, what he was proposing—literally proposing…

“Come on,” he said, turning before you could blink. So that’s how it would be—never knowing the moment he would pop the burning question until he did it. You smiled so wide your face ached with it, but you could only shake your head and return to your horse, mounting back up, seeing where this day would lead.

“Got a ride ahead of us,” Arthur said as he settled into his saddle. “You sure you’re up for it?”

Whether he meant the day or the rest of your life, you didn’t care. As long as you were with him.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The pair of you rode and rode, along winding paths, past a lake, up into the mountains where the air got thinner and the wind had a bite to it. He lead so aimlessly you were beginning to wonder if even he knew where he was going, until he stopped suddenly and said, “Here’s good.”

You just watched him swing down off his horse, a little confused. “Here?”

You were in the middle of the woods just off the path. The most nondescript place on earth.

He smirked. “What, this not good enough for you?”

“No! Not that, I just-”

“Relax,” he said, waving you off as he untied his bedroll from his horse. “Let’s leave the horses here. You up for a walk?”

You knew him, knew he didn’t like his horse being far. This was strange behavior coming from him. But it seemed he had planned this out, so you went with it anyway.

“Sure,” you answered, dismounting, tying your horse where it stood.

“Good.”

Then you walked over to him to let him lead the way. But he hung back, switching his bedroll to his other side and reaching for your hand. You grinned like a fool and took it.

“Such a sap.”

“Shut up.” But he held on tight and walked with you, not quite so big and tough as he looked for once.

He led you deeper into the woods for about a quarter mile, then up. The woods turned to rock, to hills verging on mountains. He held your hand firm, the ground uneven and littered with rocks enough to make both of you stumble a bit. Finally, the rock gave way to a flatter, more grassy spance of ground, and he stopped.

“How’s here?”

“Here’s…anywhere’s fine. Really, I didn’t mean-”

He stopped you again. “Don’t worry about it.” He finally released your hand and undid his bedroll, flaring it out to its full extent so that it fell wide to the ground. He set it down and turned to you with a mischievous look as he made to sit on it. “Care to join me?”

Gladly. You didn’t even have to respond before you were moving, missing the touch of his hand already. He settled and leaned back, and you sat close enough to lean into him, to take in the scent he wore like a second layer of clothes.

He sighed then, content as could be, content as you were. Though you couldn’t deny you were nervous. Unknowing about when he would ask what you so desperately wanted him to. But instead of worrying about that, you caught sight of the view. He had taken you high enough to overlook the trail you had ridden, the woods surrounding it. The lake below. It was a beautiful day, the storm from yesterday long gone, the sun beginning to sink in the sky and light up the trees, the water, the world. Even your two horses far below could be seen, and you understood then why he was okay with leaving them. They were never quite out of sight.

“Missed you.”

His low, warm voice was like honey, and you relaxed into it and into the feel of his hand coming up to your head, his fingers running through your hair.

“Didn’t have to, you know. Could have stayed.”

You watched the view as you said it. You would normally want to look at him, but the way his fingers tugged through your wind-tangled hair with the easiest pressure was relaxing you.

“Couldn’t have done that,” he said. “I owe my woman a little ceremony at least.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, leaning into his touch. “But you know I would have married you right there on the street. In the mud and the horseshit.” You turned to him then, smiling.

He smiled back, a flash of teeth. “I know you would, darlin’. But you deserve more than that.”

He admired you a moment before reaching around himself, into his satchel. Your breath caught in your chest until he pulled out a cloth full of berries—raspberries. Your favorite. He offered them to you, and you happily obliged.

Soon, you were both eating them and talking about the day, about your time spent apart, about your lives. He told you about his past, most of which you already knew, but he delved into his childhood, his parents—subjects he had hardly breached. Even his son who had passed. He talked about how he was afraid he was turning into his father, how ashamed his mother would be over the man he had become. You countered that he was a good man, that any mother would be proud of who he was despite all he went through. He argued that he could never escape his past, no matter how good he tried to be. That his son was killed by the same type of man he was. You shut that down quickly, saying he would never kill a child. Then his words became slow and strained, explaining how terrified he was of starting a life with you. How scared he was of losing you too. That no matter how far the two of you went, his past would always catch up to him. You just shook your head, the guilt written across his face crushing you. Then told him simply life was too short to worry with that. That you would rather have him and lose him than not have him at all. He went quiet then. And you let him be, berries long since eaten, sun sinking lower. You let him wage war within himself, decide who he wanted to be. No one could make that decision but him.

After long enough that the sun was beginning its final descent, his hand found the back of your head, and he pulled you to him in a kiss. One hard, heart-felt, emotion-filled kiss. He started taking your breath away, leaning into you. But just as quickly as that passion had flared, he stopped, pulling back, breathing heavy. Holding your face in his hands.

“I love you.”

His eyes met yours. And what you found lying within them made you smile. He had made up his mind.

“I love you,” you answered. Nothing on this earth truer.

He rose. Frozen with sudden nerves, you just watched him as he looked down at the horses, his expression clouded like he was making up his mind. Then he looked at you and offered you his hand.

“I have an idea.”

You took it without asking for more, though your curiosity was burning with the unanswered question. When will he do it?

Once you were on your feet, he turned and whistled for his horse. You did the same, both mounts running up the rocky hillside in response. They navigated the loose shale well and were soon greeting you with ears pricked.

Arthur rolled up his bedroll, the place you had sat lacking any evidence you had been here. It seemed strange—such a perfect place for Arthur to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. But he hadn’t and was instead tying his bedroll down on his horse’s back, smiling at some unknown thought.

“I want to show you something,” he said, turning to you. “Will you ride with me?”

What you wanted to ask was how far. Instead you answered truthfully, “Of course.” And you mounted without hesitation, your curiosity making you smile, especially when it came in the form of this man’s fondness for you.

Soon you were back on the trail, having headed back down the mountain then west. The path slowly turned north, beautiful in the late-day sun. It was going higher up and rockier still, treacherous if not for the well-minded horses below you. Then Arthur was once again straying off the path when it flattened out, taking his mount into the grass that had grown up between the rock despite itself.

Then you caught sight of the view.

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped until Arthur turned his horse, looking back at you with a smile. “You coming or what?”

“Arthur, this is…” Stunning. Absolutely stunning. The entire country seemed to lay out before you, the height of the land making you the tallest thing on earth.

“I know,” he said, dismounting. “Come on.” And when you swung off your horse too, he walked over and took your hand, still facing you as he said, “You didn’t think I’d lead you on some wild goose chase without a view, did you?”

“Where we were before was a view,” you said. “This is something else.”

You let him lead you onward with a smile, closer to the edge of the mountain, toward where the sky stretched into endless day. You could see Emerald Ranch, all of the heartlands, even a bit of Valentine. So far south you could just make out the lake that looked to be more of an ocean from here.

“Pretty, ain’t it?”

“How’d you come upon this place?” you asked, turning to him. Though he had already been looking at you, his soft smile breaking over you in its endearment.

“Did some traveling around these parts a few years back. Believe it or not, there used to be some sort of monk or some other crazy who sat at that cliff edge all day, taking it all in,” he said, gesturing to where the mountain ended and the sky began. “So I guess you have him to thank for introducing me to the view.”

“I have you to thank for this,” you said softly, stepping forward and letting Arthur’s hand drop. You walked all the way to the edge. This was worth filling page after page of your journal with. If you had known about it sooner, it would be what covered Arthur’s shotgun stock. It was so vast and powerful, you could feel your heart racing with it. Enough to make a person ponder their small existence. Unlike anything you’d ever seen. And when you turned to tell Arthur so, he was kneeling.

Your mind stopped turning. Stopped working entirely.

He was down on one knee, looking up at you like you held all the love in the world. In love with you. He held something small and shiny between his fingers.

“Y/N,” he started gently, his voice shot through with care. He held up the ring, a small, gold thing. You had thought before that a ring didn’t matter, that you would marry him without one in a heartbeat. While that still held, seeing the small band now with its tiny, sparkling gem—your favorite color…

“I have loved you for as long as I’ve known you.” You felt tears fill your eyes for the way that he said it. Raw.

“You’re the only person I want to spend every day with. The rest of my life with. In fact it…scares the hell out of me how much I like you.” He smiled as he said it, and you let out a laugh through your tears.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N…” He looked you straight in the eye. “Would you do me the honor of marryin’ me?”

There was no question in you. Not a shred of doubt. In a blink, you were falling to your knees before him and grabbing his face and kissing him and saying, “Yes,” over and over, kissing the word into his mouth. He just let you, kissing you back. And when you finally broke away to look into his eyes, he was pulling your left hand toward him, placing the ring on your finger with a look so proud that your chest tightened with it. He just admired it a moment, that ring on your hand.

Then he met your eye and smiled wide, muttering, “Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” before tackling you backward in a grinning kiss.

You were both laughing into each other’s mouths, high on the feeling of mutual love. Of belonging to each other. And when he rose up onto his palms above you, grinning down as he told you he loved you again, you took his face in your newly-ringed hand.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.”

His eyes skipped between yours, his grin contagious. “Y/N Morgan. I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” And he was on you again, kissing your breath away, happy like you had never seen him.

Yours.

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