#fear the walking dead x ps reader

[plus-size-reader]

Peace

Troy Otto x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3842 words

Warnings: None

Summary: The reader comes across Troy’s notebook while he’s out, and notices something strange. 

—————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t meant to snoop.

Jake had asked you to find Troy, said he had to talk to him but didn’t have the time to track him down. He was a busy man, after all, and if Jeremiah needed help, he couldn’t exactly make him wait.

So, you agreed.

You took off toward Troy’s room, assuming that given the time of day and schedule for rounds, that was where he would be.

He wasn’t.

His bedroom was unoccupied by the time you reached it, but not empty.

On the floor, out of place in the immaculate space, was that leather-bound notebook he carried with him all the time. It was one of his most prized possessions and you knew he would be missing it, if he didn’t realize it was gone.

That was it.

By all accounts, you were trying to do something nice. You figured it had fallen out of his back pocket when he was getting dressed or rushing out the door to get to his post.

You had to find him anyway, so when you did, you could take it to him.

It was innocent, at least, at first.

You had only good intentions and you weren’t even going to open it, but almost on instinct, as soon as you touched the leather, you flipped open the front cover. Whether out of curiosity or habit, you weren’t sure but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered as soon as it was open was the ink, dried to the page and committing his every thought, as if recording for posterity.

On the first page, he’d written his name, followed by a date. If you had to guess, you’d say that was the day he obtained it.

It was interesting.

Troy’s handwriting was delicate and even, and you could tell that he put time into every single letter and number. Like he knew they would be there forever and couldn’t handle a mistake.

You smiled, letting yourself sit at the foot of his bed, your fingers tracing each letter as you read them.

For the most part, his notebook was filled with what you would have expected. Factual scribblings and miscellaneous numbers that held no meaning to anyone other than Troy.

In all honesty, you barely understood what you were looking at.

…but it didn’t matter.

Troy had been carrying this time with him everywhere he went since you’d met him, and never once had you held it like this. Never had you looked upon the pages, or even asked what he was always writing.

You just let him keep his secrets, because everyone had something that was just for them, but now that you were seeing it, you didn’t regret picking it up.

No matter how wrong it was.

You felt like, for what was probably the first time, you were seeing Troy for who he was and he wasn’t even in the room with you.

The next few pages were less interesting, though just as telling, with every inch of the paper covered with dates and times.

The watch schedule.

After that, you found what seemed to be a detailed list of miscellanious items, and quantities that had to be supply logs from his runs. You could tell because of the delicate little checks beside each thing, telling you he'd cataloged them.

That was who Troy was.

Organized and meticulous, even when he was within his own private thoughts.

It continued on like that for a while. Page after page full of numbers, little symbols and time stamps, but you didn’t skip over a single one. You took your time considering each little marking, far more than you’d ever studied anything in your life.

It was almost as if you were reading a roadmap and you couldn't forget a single detail, which in a way, you were.

This notebook was a reflection of Troy, and not just who he presented to people on the outside, but the real Troy.

This was the closest thing he’d ever keep to a personal journal, and while it didn’t contain any written feeling or sentiment, you could feel it.

With each word you read, and each number you attempted to quantify, you got it. You understood who he was, more and more.

In a way that he could never have expressed to your face.

You were remarkably relaxed as you read, considering you were actively betraying the personal privacy of one of your closest friends, but that all came to a screeching halt as you neared the center of the book.

There, above everything else you’d seen so far, you found something that surprised you. Something within the collection of thoughts that actually confused you more than anything else had.

It was you.

There, on those worn pages, was you. Or, at the very least, some sort of tribute to you. The resemblance was stark, and you couldn’t have explained it away if you tried.

Which obviously wasn’t what you expected.

Still, you didn’t move to make anything of it at first. You knew Troy well enough to know that there could very well be drawings of every single person he’d ever seen hidden within the covers.

Maybe he just didn’t want to forget the people he knew. Maybe he didn’t want to forget their faces.

That would have been a perfectly reasonable thing to do considering the world you lived in, and how frequently people left your lives.

The second drawing was harder to explain away, and by the time you reached a seventh page, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

They were all of you.

Each one was different, and just as great a resemblance, but they were all of you.

You could feel your face scrunch up slightly as you considered what you were looking at, before eventually turning back to the first drawing of many and just looking at it for a while.

It was good.

A simple pencil sketch, with harsher lines and shading in some areas, where Troy had deemed necessary and softer, lighter emphaisis on others. Complete, of course, with the date in the corner.

It looked a lot like you.

The first one, the one that had caught your attention in the first place, was of your face. There was a soft, almost serene smile on your face and you looked happy.

You looked pretty, if you could look pretty in a pencil drawing.

The second was farther away, and featured you in the middle of cleaning your hand gun on the picnic table. The third was of you reading, your back against the shed and a sharp look of concentration on your face.

Did you really twist your face up like that when you read? You must have.

There were a few others, all capturing you as you existed, in the exact way you must have looked and you couldn’t help but feel like you were watching yourself through Troy’s eyes.

It was strange.

Still, you didn’t stop your quest and continued looking from page to page, until you came to the most recent drawing.

The last drawing in the set.

This one featured you, sitting in front of a roaring fire with the full expanse of the desert at your back. By all means, it was no different than the others, but for some reason, it felt different as you studied it.

You looked peaceful, almost comfortable, with a wide smile on your face and it would be a lie to say that you didn’t find it beautiful.

It was.

That was when it dawned on you.

You remembered this, remembered sitting in the dirt like you were on the page, telling the militia jokes and listening to their stories about what life was like for them before the fall.

Troy had been so quiet that night. This notebook of his had his full attention the entire night, and at the time, you thought he was taking notes, strategizing and planning out your next moves.

…but he wasn’t.

If the date in the corner of the page was correct, that meant he was doing this that whole time.

His mind wasn’t wondering to far away possibilities, or bloody disasters that no one could prevent except for him. His was watching you, studying the lines of your body and the contours of your face.

Listening to your voice and doing his best to capture the emotion on your face to the page, so that it didn’t have to live in his memories alone.

Wow.

You were quiet for a moment as you thought over the implications of this, or if they were any implications at all, only stopping when you heard the sound of Troy’s truck coming up the road.

It had to be him.

It was always him.

At the sudden distraction, you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding after a moment, and forced yourself to close the notebook, but you didn’t put it down.

You couldn’t.

For some reason, you felt like if you allowed the leather to separate from your fingers, it would go away somehow. Like, if you set it down, what you now knew would be lost to you forever.

So, rather than be caught in his room without explanation, you tucked the book into your back pocket, where Troy often kept it on his own body, and left.

In a lot of ways, it was the perfect crime.

There was no way that Troy could actually prove that you had been in his room, and considering the fact that you were sure he didn’t realize his journal was missing, he wouldn’t know you’d seen it.

He didn’t have to know.

…but part of you didn’t want that.

Part of you didn’t want to get away with what you’d done, to get away with reading his notebook and learning what you had without something changing.

Everything had changed.

This proved it, whether Troy meant for it to or not.

~

You decided not to say anything at first.

Not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t know how. It wasn’t as if you could just go up to him and ask why he’d been sketching scarily accurate portraits of you in his spare time.

So, until you could make up your mind about what you wanted to do, you decided to do nothing.

Instead, you focused your energy forward toward where Troy was, unloading his pack and guns from the back of the truck with Cooper and Blake.

They weren’t scheduled for a run this morning, at least, not to your knowledge but you didn’t have time to care about that. The important thing was that they just got back and they were too preoccupied to notice you.

…but you weren’t preoccupied.

Not anymore.

In fact, as you looked upon Troy at this moment, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Like, you finally had a point of reference for how he thought and what happened inside his head when he got all quiet.

Like you were looking at a brand-new person.

You tried to think back to the way he looked at you, looking over that notebook of his, that soft concentration consuming everything else around him. Maybe if you saw the world like that, it would be better.

If you saw him the way he saw you.

In your head, Troy had always been this untouchable force. He was stoic and solid, barking orders and burying everything he felt no matter how unpleasant it may have been, but that wasn’t all there was to him.

There couldn’t be.

As you watched him and took note of the way his face faltered as he scanned the crowd, you saw it. A glimmer of something that wasn’t quite as untouchable as you would have thought.

He was unsure, and given the way, he winced slightly after slugging on his pack, tired too but that wasn’t all. There was a silent joy in the way he wiped the blood from his hands and a whisper of adrenaline clear from the pep in his step.

How was it possible?

Had he always been this complex and you’d just managed to miss it? Or was it simpler than that? Maybe you didn’t want to notice because you couldn’t handle the gamble.

You couldn’t handle being let down, not by Troy. He was too important to you, and if you were to fall too hard, you knew you’d never be able to claw your way back up.

Not that you had much of a choice now.

You had picked up that notebook, and there was no taking that back. The most you could do now was keep going, and deal with what followed with as much grace as you could muster.

“Hey, there you are”

It was the sound of Troy’s voice that brought you out of your head, but not in time to actually prepare yourself for having to face him.

The best you could do was smile, desperately hoping that your face didn’t look as guilty and conflicted as you felt.

“Yeah, here I am,” you tried, willing yourself to focus on the conversation at hand and not on the way the midday sun made his eyes sparkle. Was he watching you like you were watching him?

Stop it.

“I was supposed to tell you to find Jake. He was looking for you” you forced, giving the blonde a soft smile before continuing on your way, brushing past him only slightly in your hurry.

You couldn’t do this.

How were you supposed to just go about your life like you didn’t know he was silently studying every little thing about you?

How did you do that?

“Y/N, wait up. What’s going on?” Troy called out, shocked by your uncharacteristic briefness and evidently choosing this very moment to start caring about other people’s feelings.

Perfect.

You stopped, considering your options for a second as you waited for him to meet your side, his boots keeping time with his usual stride.

On one hand, you could just abandon your original plan and tell him about the notebook, confess that you’d read it and that you had seen the drawings. On the other hand, you could keep it hidden and say nothing, but that was a bandage at best.

Eventually, you would have to give it back.

So, you took a deep breath and made up your mind. Today was going to be the day that you faced Troy Otto and the feelings you had for him that you’d been steadily burying since you’d met.

You didn’t have any other choice.

It was unceremonious, all things considered, the way you just pulled the small book from your pocket but you didn’t really care. Of all the things currently fighting for the top spot in your mind, finesse didn’t even crack the top ten.

There was no getting away from this and the longer you tried to play it off, the worse it was going to be for both of you.

There was probably a perfectly casual explanation that you just had yet to consider. All you could know for sure right now was that you were never going to know if you didn’t give Troy a chance to explain himself.

“You found it” he allowed, gingerly taking the book from your hands and inspecting it lightly before returning it back to where it belonged.

Safely away in the back pocket of his jeans, away from prying eyes like yours.

“Yeah, I found it.” you could practically feel your blood dropping in temperature as you forced yourself to take the leap. “And I read it too”

Troy’s blood ran cold as soon as you spoke.

You read it? What did that mean? Most of what he’d cataloged in that book wasn’t something you would have been able to understand, even with as clever as you happened to be.

It was an extension of what happened inside his head, and if he was being honest, Troy was lucky he could understand what he’d written most of the time.

It wasn’t possible that you’d read it.

It just wasn’t possible.

“What do you mean?” his words were much more pensive this time, as he waited for you to explain yourself.

Troy was smart, and he knew better than to incriminate himself, even if technically he hadn’t done anything wrong. The drawings were creepy, sure, but not necessarily disallowed.

“It’s a good likeness. It could have been a lot worse. I mean, I didn’t even know you could draw” you shrugged, telling him everything he needed to know without having to actually admit to what you both knew out loud.

It was the most painless option, but knowing that didn’t stop Troy from panicking as he considered what this might mean for the two of you in the future. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you for whatever choice you made.

He’d crossed a line, again.

“You weren’t supposed to see those” he tried, ultimately preparing himself for the yelling or screaming that would follow your discovery.

It was strange.

Troy knew that when he started the sketches, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop once he’d started. There was just something about you, and the way you looked when you were completely in your element.

It was like the rest of the world fell away, and even if for a moment, he wanted to capture it.

…but there was no way for him to explain that to you without making the whole thing a lot worse than it already was.

After all, the only thing more inappropriate than drawing you without your permission or awareness would be justifying it with unreciprocated feelings of admiration.

Feelings he could hardly rectify within his own head, let alone out loud to you.

“Why do you draw them?” you wondered, heading back down the hill toward your own cabin, Troy following you gingerly.

You had no idea what you were doing here, or what difference this whole thing would make but you knew that you had to talk about it. You had to figure out where to go from here, and you’d rather do it without an audience.

This definitely wasn’t the business of anyone else at the ranch.

He sighed, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you moved, making no motion to say anything else until he spoke. “Got bored” he tried, his voice wavering in a way you’d never heard before.

“Don’t lie. It’s okay, I just want to know why” you shrugged, practically pleading with him to tell you the truth.

You didn’t blame him for assuming the worst. That was just who Troy was, and who he would always be, but you weren’t angry with him for this.

You were just surprised.

Most of the drawings, kept between important data he’d collected, were of you out in the world, going about your day and unaware that you were being watched.

Which, to some, may have been unsettling but you didn’t think so. You knew Troy and you knew that in order for him to put the time and effort into these, they were important to him.

Because you were important to him.

All you wanted was to hear him say it.

“Truth?” he hummed, more for himself than you as he bought just a little more time before you finally stopped, just far enough away from the center of the ranch to have some privacy.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way his gaze shifted around your face before finally dropping to the dirt.

“You’re real. Real and beautiful” Troy shrugged, in what had to be the most pitiful attempt at minimizing himself that you’d ever seen.

This wasn’t who he was.

Troy was strong and self-assured. You had never seen him doubt a decision or second guess a choice once in all the time you’d known him unless that was just another one of his illusions you’d never looked twice at.

Sensing you weren’t content with just that, he continued, laying his soul bare in a way you’d never expected.

Not from him.

“You know that feeling when you’re staring them down out there, and you know that if you make one wrong move or miss anything, that will be it?” he questioned, clearly referencing the dead and the thrill he got from the sick little game of chicken you’d had to put a stop to quite a few times before.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me?” you started, only to stop again when Troy continued, “The feeling after, when they’re all dead and everything is okay again…that’s how I feel when I’m around you”

Troy paused, his eyes meetings yours for a moment as he breathed, clearly trying to gauge your reaction to his confession so far.

He found nothing.

You knew the feeling he was talking about. The relief that flooded your body when the adrenaline peaked after the danger had already faded away and you could revel in what you’d accomplished.

…but the drawings.

You didn’t understand how they were related.

So, clearly following your train of thought, Troy fished the book out of his pocket and opened it, pausing only briefly before showing you the page he’d ended on.

It was further along in the journal than you’d gotten in your initial search this morning but it would seem that there was a reason for that.

It was another drawing of you.

This time, you were curled up in your sleeping bag, fast asleep. It wasn’t entirely different from any of the others, but considering that it was the one he’d chosen, you knew it was special.

It was his favorite.

This was the first one he’d drawn. The one that had started the habit that he’d yet to break, even now.

You had been out with the rest of the militia. Under his direction, you’d wandered too far away from the ranch and bunked down for the night in a cave, but for the life of him, Troy couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t quiet his mind and he certainly couldn’t have hoped to get any sleep, so he picked up his notebook. At first, he was just going to read over his notes from the outpost, but then he glanced over at you.

You were too peaceful and too beautiful. It made him feel something he’d never felt and some part of him felt like if he didn’t commemorate it somewhere, that feeling would just slip away and he didn’t want to let it go.

He couldn't let it go.

“I won’t say I love you, because I don’t think I’d know even if I did, but I draw these because they remind me of what I do it for,” Troy muttered, admiring the graphite as if he’d done it a hundred times before, and maybe he had.

“They remind me of what peace feels like”

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[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • 1

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 7.3K

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, Alcohol consumption, devils lettuce consumption, violence, mentions of murder, panic attacks/ anxiety

Authors note: Chapter One: The Apparition - This story was a request by an anon! I hope you enjoy my interpretation of the prompt (prompt is here). I am excited to see where this goes! Let me know any thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged leave a comment :3 (ps. Listen to the apparition by sleep token hehe)

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <;3

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking

NOAH

The world was always in a state of grey, the life of the concrete jungle persistently sucking out the souls of its inhabitants with every passing second. Destruction. Crime. Greed. A shattering abyss of capitalism and corruption.

Yet, within this lifetime, I don’t think I was meant to be the good guy either.

Perhaps there was a chance for me, someday or somehow within another universe.

For now, the only thing I could think about was how my heart pounded as the gun sat between my fingers, threatening the innocent ahead. Destruction, Crime, Greed.

“Noah, let’s go,” Ruffilo pulled at my wrist in desperation. My arm remained still, resisting his force.

The woman’s eyes watched me in horror, tears brimming as her back hit the brick wall behind her, arms wrapping protectively around her body in defeat.

My heart raced, and I stood frozen in place.

“I won’t say anything I swear,” She pleaded, lips trembling, saliva foaming from her mouth as she was too afraid to swallow.

I don’t want to do this, but I fucked up.

“Noah,” Ruffilo said through gritted teeth, “We need to go,” he placed a hand on top of my gloved one, in another attempt to have me lower the bad decision.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut in contemplation as my chest heaved, the voice of rationality fighting against the voice of destruction.

I’ll be even more of a fuck up if she rats on us.

You’ve never been able to kill anyone before you moron, why do you think this time will be any different?

My eyes snapped open, leathered finger dancing along the trigger as I stared at her. My teeth barred through chapped lips, a snarl of frustration crawling from my throat. The woman's eyes turned away in fear as if watching her own demise would kill her. Ironic.

Seeing her in complete terror left me broken. Is this who I am? I am nothing more.

The next thirty seconds passed as though I was walking through molasses, my thoughts battling contradictions before I audibly screamed in frustration, shoving the gun back into my pocket as Nicholas and I ran towards the van.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the car door as forceful as possible. The tires squealed in place, burning out as Jolly’s foot pounded onto the gas pedal.

I ripped off my ski mask, throwing it angrily onto the floor of the vehicle.

“You should’ve just left her Noah. Now if they find us we could be charged with assault with a weapon.” The deep Swedish accent was the last thing I wanted to hear. He eyed me sternly in the rearview mirror. I lingered on his gaze for a moment before turning my head towards the window.

“Oh Fuck off Jolly,” I sighed angrily, closing my eyes as my breathing quickened, the anxiety beginning to set in. The pounding of my heart began to vibrate along my entire chest, and my leg bounced in anticipation, waiting for the panic to subside.

I kept justifying to myself that we’re all dead anyway, so what’s the difference between a God and a loaded gun?

+++++

Y/N

Wrapping the grey apron around my waist, I clocked into work and tightened my low bun, tucking the loose strands of my H/C bangs behind my ear. Another shift, another day that felt wasted away, confiding into the capitalist abyss. 

Overall, I enjoyed my new job working in the coffee shop. The city was busy, something I definitely wasn’t used to, but the cafe was a comforting environment filled with tasty pastries, and an unlimited amount of caffeine to fulfill any heart's desire.

I did appreciate having a solid routine, and a stable job that paid me well, however, I envied those with freedom. Those with spontaneous adventures and the ability to travel; those who got to spend their days making memories. You never know when a day is going to be your last; and at this rate, my soul was going to linger within this fucking place forever. 

I sighed as I checked on the coffee pots, organizing them before neaty lining the glass display with more cakes and croissants. Stocking up the cups and lids, I hummed to myself, letting my mind wander into my corporate daydream distractions.

Why are you never real?

Whenever you appear

You leave me with that grace

I am trembling with fear

But I know that you will disappear

“How’s it going Y/N?” My coworker asked, smiling, pulling me out of my trance.

Annika; I have grown quite fond of her, even though I’ve only known her a week.

“Good,” I smiled, pulling a sanitized cloth out of a bucket and wiping down the counters, “yourself?”

“Oh you know, same old same old.” She said, sighing with a sad smile. I matched her as we shared a moment of familiarity, before concentrating again on wiping the surface, the cold cloth running along the faux marble. 

The seating area was already busy; friends chatting, students studying, and business meetings occurring. I enjoyed watching the bustle of life that everyone brought inside. I smiled as I watched our regular elderly couple I’ve seen each morning this week wave goodbye.

“See you Lauren, bye Ray,” I gave them a nod, before wandering over to empty tables, giving them a wipe. The door dinged as more people came in, but I didn’t bother glancing up, letting myself work. 

I hummed again, singing ever so quietly as I walked back to the counter and began to daydream, thinking of things I’d love to write about, and places I’d love to go. It’s only been three weeks since I left my old life behind, and this was just the beginning of my freedom.

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

“Sleep token?” a man's voice asked, pulling me out of my trance. 

My head immediately spiralled, flushing with embarrassment as I realized Annika was off helping someone else, and I completely ignored the customer in front of me.

“Oh- sorry.” I avoided eye contact, throwing the cloth back into the bucket and scrambling my way back to the till.

“What can I get for you?” I asked as I stared at the buttons in front, preparing myself to hit stay or go, before looking up at the man in front of me. As soon as I met his deep brown eyes, I was lost in a certain intensity, the mysterious depths beckoning me towards him.

My lips parted as I stared at him, my cheeks immediately warming from infatuation. His chocolate eyes were paired with a head of long brunette hair that flowed in all the right places, just below his collarbone. A variety of coloured tattoos covered his arms and neck, and when he smiled, I just about felt weak in the knees; the crinkle of his eyes and the fold of his smile lines left me captivated. However, another story lingered behind his gaze, my mind trying to peel the layers to reveal whatever it may be.

He too watched my face, eyes trailing over every detail as a light tint of blush trailed down his ears to the top of his cheekbones.

“Uh- is it to stay? Or to go?” I stuttered as I looked away, realizing I was staring for too long. My ears felt hot and I eyed the counter intensely, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“To go please,” he said; and my god his voice, the slight Virginian accent that danced off his tongue held me in a chokehold. 

“What could I get for you today?” I asked, glancing up shyly. I've met plenty of attractive customers in my years of retail and serving, but I never had anyone caught my eye the way he did. The unknown puzzle he appeared to be was leaving me captivated.

“I'd like a coffee please, black?” he said slowly, as if it was a question.

I let out a small laugh, “Did you want cream or sugar? Or we have a variety of syrups-” I watched as he smiled, before shaking his head, eyes remaining fixated.

“No, just black is okay…” he said. Something about his October eyes tantalized me, pulling me towards him as if invisible strings were being woven between us as the seconds ticked by. His body was a magnet, and I was being tugged. 

“Sure thing,” I nodded, averting my eyes from his gaze in embarrassment, “that's everything for you?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, fiddling with his wallet before pulling out cash. 

“Can I grab a name?” I asked shyly, looking back at him again, my eyes searching his entire face for answers as if his name would reveal all the mysteries he was hiding.

I extended my hand to grab his money, and he hesitated for a moment as if scared to touch me. He placed the bill gently in my palm, the tip of his tattooed fingers brushing across my skin. My hand burned as butterflies churned in my stomach.

“Noah,“ he said, giving a slight nod and tight smile.

“Noah,” I echoed, giving him his change, the cool silver coin radiating the heat off of his palm.

“I’ll have that ready for you shortly,” I smiled up at him, and he returned it, stepping back with his hands in his pockets. With shaky hands, I turned around and walked to the coffee pot, grabbing a cup and filling it with a warm drink.

Annika slithered next to me, bumping my shoulder gently, “That’s Noah, a regular. He hasn’t been here in a while, but he’s always so glum.”

I looked at her, nodding slowly, unsure what to say.

“He also always grabs cream and sugar, so I’m surprised he’s changing it up.” Annika turned around, eying the boy for a moment before leaning into me again, “must be because he’s so distracted, checking you out.”

Blush tinted my cheeks as I scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” I exhaled with doubt but took a quick glance at the brunette. Sure enough, he was watching from behind the counter, averting his eyes as soon as we made contact. 

“You should give him your number, maybe that’ll cheer him up,” Annika whispered, giving me a wink before walking away to help another customer.

I laughed lowly as I put on the lid, sliding a sleeve up the cup. Grabbing the sharpie I opened it, and my fingers hesitated- what if I did?

I shook my head gently, shaking away the thought before scribbling Noah’s name across the top of the lid.

“Noah,” I said, his name passed off my lips as if he breathed it from me. 

His inked fingers wrapped around the cup, “You were singing the apparition earlier,” He said, and I watched him curiously, “fascinating, the line about the past.”

Every word felt like it was being taken from my body as we watched each other. Both of us seemed to hesitate, waiting for the other to say something.

He spoke first, eyes gazing upon me for a moment as he turned towards the door, “I’ve never seen you before, you must be new around here.”

I wanted to respond, but I felt frozen; so I watched every step he took towards the door, the black hoodie he wore lingering in my memory. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Have a good day,” He nodded, before walking through the door, the bell signalling his dismissal as he left.

Well, I believe,

Somewhere in the past,

Something was between,

You and I, My dear

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Perhaps it was infatuation or complete adoration; but regardless my heart yearned, regretting the way I held myself. Thoughts churned throughout my mind as I replayed the way he looked at me. I don’t think I've ever been looked at with so much intensity. 

Fuck, why didn’t I get his number? I internally groaned, scolding myself, turning around to fix another pot of coffee. A few minutes went by as my mind raced with thoughts before I heard the door open again.

I instantly turned around, surprised to see the same long-haired brunette standing at the till once again, his locks tousled messily, but still cascading down to his collar bones elegantly.

“Hi,” He said, out of breath, as if he had been running. With parted lips and quick exhales, he smiled. 

“Hi,” I said confused, my heart picking up pace once again.

“I think, I forgot cream and sugar,” He said, holding out the cup. His fingers shook as his cheek blushed. 

My head tilted slightly as he eyed me, and I grabbed the cup from him gently, “How many of each would you like?”

“One and one.” He smiled, face flushed.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I turned around to pour the sugar and cream, mixing it in his still-hot coffee.

“One cream and one sugar,” I watched as our hands touched as we passed the beverage, fingers grazing, tingles sparking through my appendages.

Noah looked at me, our eyes searching each other for any other form of communication, but he spoke first, the question bluntly leaving his mouth, “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

I gave him a dumbfounded look, eyebrows turned inwards in shock. My lips slowly upturned into a smile of disbelief, his questions catching me completely off guard. I tilted my head to look at him as a laugh escaped me, and he too joined in, his own laugh shy and reclused.

“I- I think you should walk by again,” I watched him, coming up with a quick witty response, “But only so I can get another look as to what you’d look like walking towards me on a date.” 

I cringed at my own words, laughing, and Noah’s smile widened at the banter.

“So, I’ve gathered that we are both really terrible at flirting,” He said, taking a sip of his coffee and licking his lips once he pulled the cup away.

I hummed in agreement, “I think that can be a safe deduction from this one-minute conversation,” my eyes following his fingers that now ran through his long chestnut hair, eyes trailing over the flower on the back of his hand, “maybe, you’d like to see how bad a longer conversation could be?” 

Noah’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, giving me a look, “Do you want to risk it all right now?”

I smiled as my heart began to race, the glint in his eyes only excited me more. I grabbed the sharpie that was initially filled with regret earlier, wrote my number on top of a napkin, and handed it to him. “I’m off at 5, and I don’t work my next job till 9”

Noah licked his lips again, “I’ll see you then.”

---

I stood outside the coffee shop with my earbuds in, awaiting my bad decision. Pulling my hair out of my bun, I attempted to run my fingers through my hair to make it look even a little flattering. Would he show up? Was I delusional? Was this whole idea absolutely insane? Who does this with a complete stranger?

“Hey.”

I recognized the upbeat of his voice, and my ears immediately shifted colours. I pulled out an earphone as he strode towards me, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. The way his hair flew behind his shoulders left me watching him in complete adoration. He was beautiful. 

“Let me guess,” Noah bit the inside of his cheek as he approached me, “Same song?”

Don’t wait, ‘cause this could be the last time

You turn up in the reveries of my mind

I wake up to a suicide frenzy

Loaded dreams still leave me empty

“Possibly,” I smiled.

“I think you’d really like this song by Deftones,” He began as we started walking down the street aimlessly without a plan.

“Can I guess?” I asked, looking up at him. Noah towered over me, inches above in height. I felt so small against his frame, despite his own lanky figure, and my heart began to race at our proximity. Every step he took it felt like I had to take three, his Dior cologne radiating through my senses.

Why are you never real?

The shifting states you follow me through

Unrevealed

Just let me go or take me with you

“Is it sex tape?” I asked, and Noah gave me a toothy grin, clearly impressed.

“I don’t know how you guessed the exact song,” He said, squinting at me quizzically.

“What can I say,” I shrugged, “Good at reading pretty boys’ minds. Plus, it’s a good song, similar vibe.” 

He eyed me playfully as we stopped at the crosswalk, “So you think I’m pretty?”

I watched the other side of the street, smiling as I faced forward and hummed, “Well, I don’t think I’d spontaneously go out with just anyone.”

He turned to face me, looking down at me with amusement. “Fair enough.”

“For the record, 100 percent my type,” I said, looking at him through my lashes.

Noah’s face flushed again, “What is that type? Just so I can scope them out for you, ya know?”

I thought a moment, chewing on my lip, “Oh you know, hot long-haired brunettes, brown eyes,” my eyes trailed down his body to scope his hands, before trailing back up to see the snake poking above his hoodie collar, “with tattoos,in a variety of places.”

“Well,” Noah’s cheeks tinted deeper, “I do have tattoos all over my body if you ever feel the need to explore them all.”

I laughed, watching him. We stared at each other for a moment longer, my heart pounding, as his eyes devoured me before the beeping of the sidewalk timer pulled my attention away from him.

“This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” I confessed and shook my head as I laughed in disbelief.

“What?” Noah asked, hands in his jeans pockets as he gazed between me and the path ahead.

“Going out with someone I know nothing about,” I began, “for all I know you could be a serial killer,” I teased.

Noah chuckled, “Fair. I suppose this was the last thing I thought I’d be doing this fine Tuesday evening- but I do find a dash of danger titillating.” 

I smiled widely, “so, you’re not a serial killer?”

“Not that I’m aware of, I can’t say it’s something I would get much from,” Noah laughed, but I noticed he looked away, eyes becoming distant.

“So who are you then?” I asked, Noah and I follow each other down the park path towards the neighbourhood. I pulled out my earbuds, shoving them back into my pocket. The wind was picking up slightly, causing me to shiver and pull my sleeves over my hands, fingers intertwining together in my hoodie pouch. We were walking along a path by the inner city river, the leaves of the birch trees swaying as they danced along to nature’s beat.

As I strolled next to Noah I felt an odd sense of comfort, despite knowing absolutely nothing about the man beside me. I watched him, his hair flying behind him, his eyes squinting through the wind.

“I don’t really know who I am,” He said, staring out at the water. The river flowed rapidly, the water washing over the memories of the city, carrying them through the ground in a prophesied path. I walked along with him quietly, waiting for Noah to continue speaking.

“I’m just a lost soul, I guess,” He spoke softly, eyes glazing over slightly as his mind pulled him inwards.

I nodded in understanding, “I suppose that I am too.”

Noah chuckled lowly, “Nah, there’s much more to your story,” he pried, pulling himself out of his trance.

“I mean, of course. Everyone has a past,” I looked at him curiously.

“What’s yours?” Noah watched me intently, pulling his hoodie over his head in an attempt to block the wind from blowing his hair into his face, “You’re not from around here.”

“How do you know?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Accent,” He said, “And I’ve never seen you around. I know these parts pretty well.”

“Hm. Fair enough.” I nodded, smiling, “I just moved here, from Canada.”

“To the shit hole city of Los Angeles?” Noah scoffed, surprised, “You had the whole world, and you chose LA?”

“City of dreams, they say,” I shrugged, my gaze falling upon the leaves again, “and I needed to get as far as I could.”

Noah was quiet for a moment, pondering. We walked in silence again, heading towards the houses.

“Running from something?” He asked, barely forming a whisper. Noah’s eyes met mine as they searched for an answer, attempting to read through me.

I sighed, tilting my head to give him a small smile, “Always.”

“Who?” Noah asked after another pause, sitting forward in interest.

“Ghosts and demons,” I laughed, lightening the mood, “Oh, and people too.”

We laughed together, our voices creating a harmony that I wanted to listen to forever.

“I left behind everything—everything I ever knew,” I began, turning to avoid Noah’s eyes.

“My parents were murdered,” I said. I expected him to immediately bombard me with apologies, as people always did when dropping a bomb like that; but he was silent, letting me continue. “I was thirteen. Lived in and out of different foster care homes- no one wants to ever take in a teenager.”

Noah hummed, prompting me to continue. We walked down the sidewalk along the street of houses; nearing my own. Staring at it as we walked by, I turned my attention forward.

“Unfortunately got in with the wrong crowd and some really bad people who only loved and wanted me when I could provide them with things.” I stifled a laugh, suddenly feeling insecure and small, “Basically I worked my ass off to get out, and I’ve finally made it and bought my own place.”

I looked over at him now, giving him a smile, “So still running, but a lot closer to my destination.” I felt an immense amount of appreciation for his ability to listen.

Noah smiled back, giving me a knowing glance; almost as if he understood. Turning his attention toward the houses he scanned them, watching each one intensely as we walked by.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just trauma-dumped on a stranger,” I gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Nah, we aren’t strangers now,” He said, “Definitely more like acquaintances.”

I smiled at his reassurance, “And you? You’re quite mysterious.”

Noah was quiet, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and thought as we enjoyed each other’s company, his eyes darting rapidly over the grass as if he were filtering through memories. I watched his lip run between his teeth before he turned to me, giving me a curt smile.

“I’m just Noah,” He said; but as I stared into his eyes, devouring his soul, I saw that he was much more than that.

+++++

NOAH

“Where the fuck were you?” Jolly yelled, “We’ve been waiting for hours.”

I slammed the motel door, the place we called home, glaring at him, “nowhere mom, it's not like you need to know.”

“You’re right,” Jolly said, stepping forward, pushing himself towards me so our chests were almost touching.

“I don’t give a fuck what you were doing, who you were doing, or whatever- But you know what time you need to be back, and you’re late.” Jolly’s finger pressed into my chest as he scolded me. We stared at each other, eye to eye, his gaze furious. I pushed against his chest, making space between us as I furrowed my brows.

“Whatever, sorry, I got carried away,” I mumbled, throwing myself onto the cot that rested on the floor I sighed, my cheek smashing into the musky-scented pillow. Staring at the 80’s retro carpet splayed on the floor, I analyzed the faint outline of the blood stain left by Ruffilo last week when he cut his knee open from a previous job.

“It’s your turn, Noah.” Nick Folio slapped the backpack onto the table as he sat back in the chair, crossing his legs on top of the wooden surface. The joint was lit between his lips as the smoke trailed through his teeth.

“I fucking hate doing this shit,” I protested, shaking my head as I rolled onto my back, letting myself close my eyes momentarily. Ruffilo tossed me my gloves and mask, the fabric hitting my chest. I groaned angrily as I sat up. I pulled the black leather gloves over my fingers to cover my tattoos. Standing up I shoved the black ski mask into my hoodie pocket, before throwing my phone into my cargo pants.

“Just this one for the week brother. Then you don’t need to worry about it till next week.” Nicholas Ruffilo said, smiling at me gently. He knew I hated this. He knew I wanted it to stop.

“How many more fucking weeks, huh? It’s been years. I’m sick of this shit.” I snapped, and Nicholas, being the glue of this group, placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I know,” he said, watching me cautiously.

A bitter laugh escaped Jolly’s lips, “What else are we going to do Noah? Magically pull a million bucks out of our asses?”

I loved Jolly, I really did. He was my oldest brother for as long as I can remember- but fuck, did I ever want to punch his face into the wall sometimes.

Jolly sat back in the wooden chair next to Folio, “You know the drill. It’s nothing new. We do what we gotta do to survive; how else are we going to pay back D?”

I shrugged Nicholas’ hand off my shoulder, muttering to myself in annoyance as I grabbed my combat boots, kicking my black vans underneath the cot. I tied up the laces, knotting together the memories of previous jobs, the back of my mind replaying years of regret.

Cracking open a beer, Jolly took a swig before mumbling, “Don’t forget you’re the whole reason we are in this mess in the first place.”

My head snapped up immediately, eyes locking onto his, ears burning a deep red as my face heated, “Yeah? Why don’t you say that again you fucking prick?”

Jolly raised his voice, sitting forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he leered into me, “I’m sick and tired of hearing it, Noah. Do you think we enjoy doing this too? Do you think we want this? Don’t complain about the work when you fucked us over first.”

My chest heaved as I grew irritated, eyes glaring as his words stabbed me, “I was fourteen!” I shouted, spit flying from my mouth, “I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t told me to in the first place!”

Nicholas reached for me again, pushing against my chest to hold me back. I aggressively hit his hand away, grabbing my backpack vigorously and throwing it over my shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you to do anything,” Jolly growled, watching me as my fists clenched, muscles tightening.

“You’re the one I’m supposed to look up to!” I yelled.

“It’s not my fault your parents died,” Jolly said, and both Nicks immediately turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment.

“Don’t you fucking bring them into this!”I screamed, seething, ready to lunge at the long-chestnut-haired man in front of me. Nicholas wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me away. I squirmed against him, closing my eyes in anger as I fought the tears that brimmed them.

An hour ago I was sitting with one of the most beautiful humans I had ever laid my eyes on. I’ve never done anything as risky as spending time with someone I just met, especially someone like Y/N. She seemed so brave, so gentle… so worthy. How someone could captivate me within mere moments, left me baffled. I knew I was in complete infatuation, and I already felt myself craving to see her again. I have gotten a coffee from that cafe almost every day for a year; it’s the only stable part of my routine. Everything was always the same. The coffee, the customers, the servers, everything. Everything but Y/N. Seeing her threw me off, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that felt like she was placed there as if maybe she was just for me. She seemed like a breath of fresh air in my stale, grey, lifeless world. Something about the way she spoke, how she seemed so mysterious, her wit and her beautiful fucking eyes.

Now here I was, being reminded that I was unworthy of anyone.

“Do you know where you’re going to go?” Nick asked me, pulling me from my thoughts. He handed me the joint, a way to divert from the tension,

I nodded, “I walked around a neighbourhood I’ve been eying lately, the one close to the coffee shop.” Wrapping my lips around the joint I inhaled, letting the smoke fill my throat and lungs. I coughed as I handed it back to Folio.

“Don’t you think that area is a little risky?” Nicholas said, raising a brow, “we spend enough time around there.”

I shrugged, “I scoped some places earlier. Close together and tight nit. Enough places to hide. Seems like most of the owners are elderly, it's an old neighbourhood.”

Nick took a final puff of the joint, before blowing out the smoke through open lips, placing the bud in the tray beside him, “Elderly is good. Lots of nice shit; if you sort through the useless junk. Bring the gun for the scare factor.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” I said as Nick held out the weapon, my finger grazing across the metal. Even through the glove, I felt its cool, metallic texture, my mind jumping back to the woman held before it earlier.

What am I even doing?

Shoving the gun into my waistband I opened the motel door, “See you guys later.” I nodded to each of them, eyes lingering on Jolly for a moment longer.

“Text if you need anything,” Jolly said through gritted teeth, taking another sip of his beer, and avoiding my gaze.

I walked down the wooden stairs, passing the rundown vinyl wall that lined the entire building. As I passed the paint-peeled doors listening to various arguments, and the sounds of sex. The scent of weed and stale alcohol lingered on the cement, decades of grime living within the premises, never fully washing away. As pathetic as it was, it smelled and sounded like home. It was all I had.

I pulled my hood over my head, letting my hair cascade as a shield around my face, my legs carrying me through the neighbourhood. It was 12:30 am, the nightlife bare as only a few cars passed by me, unaware of my felonies.

I wasn’t sure which house would be my victim tonight, but I prayed, to whoever God was, that it would be quick. Get in get out.

I placed an earpod in my ear, scrolling through songs, before choosing The Apparition. Perhaps, if this is all a dream, I can go back to the time I met her. As they say, ignorance is bliss; and I was tired of consciousness.

And it remains With me to this day No matter what I do This scar will never fade

+++++

Y/N

I clocked out of work, sighing through the exhaustion of my 12-hour day. Thankfully my bar shift was only four hours, but I was tired regardless, knowing I had about 8 hours till I had to be back at the cafe, to do it all over again. I reapplied my red lipstick in an attempt to hydrate my lips, the crisp 1 am air biting at my cheeks. Thankfully home was only a ten-minute walk away, and the only motivation carrying me was that my warm, comfortable bed was waiting for me; and my cat.

I also couldn’t help but still feel giddy about meeting Noah earlier today. My heart yearned as I reminisced about his smile and mysterious aura. My stomach churned with butterflies from the exhilaration. Was this just a one-time thing? Never in a million years would I have thought I’d go on a ‘date’ with someone I just met; but It’s not like I do much other than work. My life needed that little bit of excitement.

I sang to myself, letting the incitement of possibly receiving a text from him in the morning carry me through the dread of working tomorrow. I let my thoughts wander to ridiculous daydreams as I reached the front door of my townhouse. I put the key in, twisting it; realizing I locked the door.

Shit, did I leave it unlocked this morning? I know I was tired…but I’m pretty good at remembering that.

With furrowed brows I opened the door, closing it and double checking it was locked. My orange cat, Juice, was not sitting by the door in his usual spot. Every time he heard the door he was always right there, waiting. None of the lights were on, which usually never worried me; but I knew that I kept the living room lamp on so it wouldn’t be dark when I got home. Maybe the power went out.

“Juice?” I called out, my stomach beginning to churn with a dreadful feeling. Something wasn’t right. The house was eerily silent as I walked quietly toward the kitchen.

“Juju baby? Where are you?” I yelled, turning on the kitchen light. I placed my bag on the counter, listening intensely for his meow.

The floor creaked above me in what sounded like a pattern of footsteps, and I froze in place. That was too loud to be a cat.

There was rustling above the stairs and my breath hitched in my throat as my heart raced. I felt my pulse radiate through my ears as I reached for the biggest kitchen knife from the block. The adrenaline rushed through me as I slinked towards the stairs from the kitchen.

I peered up the stairs into the darkness, the only source of light coming from the windows, illuminating the crevasses of the doors upstairs. Another creek sounded and I watched the shadow dance along the wall as the door to my bedroom opened. With shallow breaths I carried myself up the stairs, tiptoeing, barely allowing myself to exhale in fear I would be too loud.

This is how people get murdered in horror movies you dumb bitch.

As my heart pounded heavily underneath my rib cage, I made it to the top of the stairs, turning on the light to the hallway.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and I screamed, deep from my diaphram; but the only thing appearing was my cat; wide-eyed and meowing.

“Jesus Christ cat!” I yelled, falling onto my knees as I scooped him into my arms, running his orange fur through my fingers.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” I let out a breathy laugh, mocking myself for being so silly, before kissing the top of his head. Juice wriggled in my arms, letting out a meow to be put down. I placed him on the floor and he ran into my room. Shaking my head I placed the knife on the bannister, following Juice.

He sat on my bed, meowing towards my mirrored closet as I entered. Turning on the lamp next to my bed, I pet him, “What? Are you hungry? Your bowl is literally full.”

I pulled off my sweater, throwing it into the laundry hamper. Juice began hissing and I stared at him confused.

“What the hell is-”

A hand covered my mouth before I finished my sentence, and I immediately screamed into it, my sounds muffled into the gloved appendage. Another arm wrapped around my torso as my eyes widened with fear, and I froze in place, held tightly against the captor’s chest.

I felt the pace of their heart match my own, their chest heaving up and down heavily.

They turned our bodies towards the mirror and I stared at the reflection, tears beginning to fall from the terror I felt.

The man behind me towered over me, his grip never loosening from my body. Everything was covered except his eyes and mouth, peeking through a black ski mask.

I whimpered against his hand my stomach sinking at the sight of the gun that poked through his black cargo pants, but the most terrifying thing of all was the scent of Dior cologne.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said, accent burning into my memory, and I watched him in the mirror. It was him. Noah. I knew his voice, this had to be his cologne.

A wave of dread filled my body and I began shaking, crying into his hand. He followed me home, I never should have gone out with a stranger. How could I be so fucking stupid?

“I’m going to leave, and you’re going to let me. Understood?” I nodded, tears drying on my cheeks as I watched his every move. He closed his eyes, as if in regret before he took a deep breath. I don’t think he knows I know who he is, but there was no way in hell I was going to get killed being a crying little bitch. I’m going to harm this motherfucker and get his ass thrown into jail.

“Please don’t scream,” He said, his grip loosening on my body, and when he fully let go I swung around, kicking him forcefully in the family jewels. Noah fell onto his knees, a deep guttural groan emanating from his throat as he held himself in agony. I scrambled into the hallway, grabbing the knife off the bannister and pointing it towards my door.

“You fucking followed me you creep!” I screamed, anger seeping through me, “You’re a fucking lowlife, get out of my house or I’m calling the cops, Noah.” His name crawled off my tongue while dripping with complete disgust, the syllables sickening. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, fingers shaking as I typed in 9-1-1.

“I swear to god I had no idea this was your house,” He said pained as he crouched out of my bedroom, “please Y/N, don’t call the cops.”

“Why shouldn’t I call the cops!” I yelled. Noah’s eyes darted between the phone and me, following my thumb as it hovered over the green call button.

“Just don’t,” Noah said, holding himself against the door. I pressed the button, holding it up to my ear as it dialled.

Noah immediately looked frantic, before his hand reached for the gun placed in his waistline, pulling it out and pointing it at me. Immediately I froze, and the voice of the 9-1-1 operator was dampened by the drowning ringing of panic.

“Hang up,” Noah whispered, the gun shaking in his hands through his demand.

“Hello? Are you there?” The lady on the phone said.

“Y/N, hang up, please.”

Time felt frozen as I stared at the gun, memories flooding back from the murder of my parents. My bottom lip trembled, the phone falling from my hands, onto the carpeted floor. My body was stiff, completely locked in place.

“Hello?”

Noah’s other hand reached out gently, palm open and inviting; countering the symbolism of the weapon present in his other hand. He reached down towards the phone, ending the call.

He let out a sigh of relief, hanging his head in guilt. Throwing the gun to the floor, he kicked it towards the bathroom, before pulling the mask off, revealing the face I yearned for earlier.

He looked broken, and torn, as he watched me completely crumble before him, the panic attack rising in my lungs.

“I- I didn't mean to scare you I- I” Noah began to stutter frantically, moving towards me, “I can’t have the cops come- I can’t leave my brothers.”

I fell to the floor, holding my knees to my chest as I stared at the gun by the bathroom, terror taking over. My breathing became erratic as I began to hyperventilate.

“I swear to god I’m not going to hurt you,” Noah leaned down, sitting in front of me as he held my wrists.

I tried to take in breaths, I tried to pull myself away from him but I couldn’t move. I gasped for air, suffocating myself, unable to exhale.

“Breathe,” Noah’s hands now grabbed either side of my face, “please Y/N breathe!”

His eyes ran across my entire face, holding me, “Count back from 100 in 3’s with me, ok?”

“100, 97, 94, 91, 88…” Noah began, and I followed.

“85, 82, 79…” I choked out, and Noah’s grip on my face loosened, and he moved his hands to hold my own.

I wanted to run away so badly, I was terrified, but at the same time I was scared I wouldn’t be able to breathe again.

Noah counted with me, demonstrating a stable breathing pattern and my chest followed his own, mimicking him, “58, 55, 52, 49…”

Finally, we reached zero, and my breathing was normal. I retracted my hands from his own violently, pulling them into my chest as I scooted away from him as if he were the most vile thing in the world.

“I don’t know whether to say fuck off,” I said, glaring, “or thank you.”

Noah watched me with worry before he ran his gloved hand over his face. Realizing they were still on he groaned in frustration, peeling off the leather angrily and tossing them to the side, his tattooed hands now exposed.

I watched as his fingers shook, my eyes following the outline of the flower once again.

“I’m sure you don’t believe me but I swear I didn’t know this was your house.” He began, holding his hands up in surrender. His eyes looked at me, pleading.

He looked so genuine, so sincere, he had to be telling the truth; but fuck that.

“You’re right, I don’t,” I snarled, “But what the hell were you doing in someone else’s house anyway?” I wiped my mouth, the lipstick I put on earlier smudged across my skin. I probably looked like a complete mess right now. Noah watched, eyes tracing my lips.

“I- I swear If I could tell you I would,” Noah rambled again, looking at the carpeted floor, “but I-”

A loud triple-knock at the door interrupted his sentence, and he stared at me with wide eyes, the colour draining from his face.

“This is LAPD!”A loud voice boomed from the other side of the door, the doorknob turning, attempting to open.

“Shit,” Noah mumbled, looking around the hallway frantically. He stood up, searching for something before he stared down at me, an idea clicking in his mind. Noah tore his sweater off, along with his black tank top underneath, leaving him shirtless before me.

“What the hell are you doing!” I whisper-yelled, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“Kiss me,” He said, kneeling in front of me again, complete distress and fear glazing over his eyes.

“Excuse me?” I now yelled, a little too loud as the door below us rattled again.

“LAPD! Open up!”

“I need you to kiss me, please,” Noah’s eyes bore into my own as he begged, “Trust me, just this once, please Y/N.”

I analyzed Noah’s features, his deep October eyes imploring.

Call me crazy, but somehow I obliged, leaning in with permission. Noah’s hands gripped the back of my head, fingers tangled through my hair as he pulled me onto him, kissing me with complete desperation.

Holy shit this was a really long chapter I am so sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it! I am excited to continue!! <3

Chapter two

#burning out fanfic #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #smut #bad omens smut

[pretty-red-garnet]

Angel

Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • France • Light Angst/Fluff

!Spoilers! For The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon episode one! Don’t read this if you haven’t watched yet! Also, thank you so much to the anon who requested this. I had a lot of fun writing it.

PS: Ignore the canon divergence lol.

Heavy limbs is all Daryl feels as he begins to become conscious again. He's huddled on an overturned boat, his frozen fingers gripping your waist to keep you afloat with him. It seems even unconscious, he's always thinking of you and your safety before anything.

The coast is close, and he fights against his droopy eyes to look towards you. Your eyes are still closed, and he panics and swats at you to wake you. When you do, your groggy too, glazed over eyes looking towards his.

"We gotta get to the coast," Daryl tells you, his voice rough with thirst. You nod, still disoriented, but he appreciates that you don't fight him when he lugs you off the boat and drags you towards shore.

You and Daryl crawl on the sand, fingers ripping into the sand in an effort to ground yourselves. Sand sticks to the icy water soaking the two of you. Daryl spots a little sand bucket full of water ahead, and rushes to it. After a single eager gulp, he hurriedly hands it off to you. He watches the water drip down your chin, giving himself just a moment to relish in the fact that you're ok and breathing.

You and him had gotten in quite a bit of trouble since venturing off in an effort to find his brother. It ended in getting taken aboard a huge boat and— thankfully— escaping on a much smaller paddle boat. And now your landed on an unfamiliar shore.

"Where do you think we are?" You ask, breaths still heavy and fast. Daryl shrugs, leaning back onto his hand and grabbing the bucket when you offer it.

After a quick moments rest, you and your partner are back on your feet. You both wander the area, looking around for any sign of where you could be. The town you end up in is small. Buildings surrounded by the sea. It looked like it would've been a spot out of a travel pamphlet from before.

"Y/N," Daryl suddenly says, looking towards a sign. You step next to him, eyeing the sign to try and read the words through the age and decay.

"Is that..." you start, examining the unfamiliar language. "French?"

You and Daryl both look towards each other, both having an expression that could only be described as exhaustion. It seemed to Daryl that you and him just couldn't catch a damn break. How the hell would he get you home?

"Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore," you say, deadpan. Daryl's frown deepens and gives you a halfhearted thwack on the shoulder for you ill-timed joke. "Tough crowd."

You and Daryl spend that night in a little fishing boat. It's long abandoned, dirt and dust covering every surface, but it gives some cover from the biting wind. After eating a fish Daryl caught, you both huddle together under layers of blankets on a little cot. You're wrapped around him and despite the exhaustion that drapes over you, you still can't sleep.

"Judith would like that," you mumble. Daryl follows your eyes and sees you gazing at the penguin plush. "She's never seen a penguin. Well, just in books."

Your voice is quiet, thoughtful. Daryl knows what your thinking about, he's good at that now. After so many years with a person, you can almost read their mind. And Daryl knows that you're missing Jude and RJ, especially after listening to that tape. That you're thinking about the childhood they're missing out on, about trips to the zoo and seeing penguins, begging their parents to buy them an overpriced souvenir. The childhood they should have.

The childhood you and Daryl are missing out watching.

"We'll have to bring it back for them," he says. You don't say anything back. "I'm gonna get you home, alright?"

You tilt your head to look in his eyes. Daryl hates that he sees fear and worry in yours. He tries to ebb it away with gentle caresses.

"I'm gonna get you home," he repeats, firmer and while looking you in the eye. You relent, nodding and smiling softly at him, and he leans to brush your lips against his in a silent promise.

It seems the bad luck that hangs over you and Daryl like a dark storm cloud isn't planning on dissipating anytime soon. You and Daryl venture deeper into the city and stumble upon a big abandoned building.

     "Maybe I should've taken French in high school," you murmur, eyes squinting at the unrecognizable words written on a sign outside of the building. Daryl just shrugs, and carefully begins to enter the building.

     It ends up being filled with walkers. Guttural groans and decomposed flesh surrounds you and Daryl. You and Daryl are taking care of your own groups, dividing and— hopefully— conquering.

     "Daryl!" You screech out, the sound of a body dropping following. "These are not normal walkers!"

     Daryl looks at the dead walkers and sees what you mean. Something leaking from them is burning the ground. Acid.

     It's not a second later Daryl is grabbed roughly, acidic fingers clamping down on his forearm. He lets out a yelp in pain, one that makes you kill your batch of walkers in half the time with the help of the extra adrenaline. Daryl sees you in the corner of his eye rushing towards him after he's able to pry the walker's hand off his arm.

     "Oh my God," you say, breathlessly staring at the burned hand print on his arm. Your fingers shake violently as they move to touch him, before they move away again. You look up at Daryl, his face pinched in pain. Tears collect at the corners of your eyes.

     Daryl's heart clenches in his chest at the sight of you, nervous and scared. Teary eyes and trembling like a leave. He reaches up to lightly dab at a few stray tears that leaked from your eyes, shaking his head.

     "I'm fine," he says, slowly and quietly. "Just a burn, I'm not infected or nothin'." His fingers now stroke your hair, trying to get that terrified look out of your eyes. "It's somethin' on the walkers, it's not a scratch or bite. 'M fine."

     You nod, and throw your arms around his waist. He hugs back without a thought, hiding a wince when your coat brushes against his wound. He doesn't mind, he'll take the pain if it means your arms are around him, holding him so tight he's afraid he'll lose feeling in his legs any second. Your face is buried in his chest, and he leaves little kisses on the crown of your head.

     When you finally pry yourself away, you're quick to pull a bandage out of your bag. Forcing Daryl to sit, you tentatively wrap the bandage around his arm. You place a sweet kiss on the outskirts of his bandage when you're done, smiling at Daryl when he huffs out an amused snort.

     You were always like that. Kind, and attentive. Always putting him and your family ahead of yourself. It was something that Daryl fell in love with first all those years ago. Although it tends to worry and annoy him on occasion.

     "I'm gonna be fine, alright?" Daryl reassures when he sees the worry isn't completely washed away from your face. You nod, lacing your fingers with his and leading him out of the building.

     Just when it seems the day couldn't get worse, it does. You and Daryl find a girl with her father, and thankfully she knows enough english for a trade. A little med kit for some apples and rabbit.

     What at first seems like the first score of the day ends in Daryl and his partner sprawled out on the damp ground. Both have matching knots on the side of their heads and Daryl a gunshot wound, yet both look and reach out towards each other. Daryl's eyes slip close before he can help it.

Daryl wakes to a start. His limbs and eyes are heavy, and he hears a woman talking— chanting?— in French. His eyes are blurry, but he's pretty sure he's looking at nuns surrounding him, one of them— the one that's speaking— has a heated fire poker, so hot the tip is a bright orange.

He yelps and shouts, trying to break free from the women's grip, but between being outnumbered, in pain, and exhausted, he doesn't move much. Daryl's eyes fly around the room in a panic, trying to catch sight of you, but there's no such thing. Once the molten poker hits his skin, the pain blinds him and he's out again.

Daryl wakes again much later. Maybe hours, maybe days later, he's not sure. He spots a nun pouring water from a basin in a large tub. Despite his body not functioning up to speed, he sits up anyway. At that moment, she turns towards him.

"You feeling better?" She asks, a foreign accent marking her words.

"Where is she?" He grumbles out, voice like sandpaper. "Y/N, where is she?"

"She's in another room, eating. She came to see you, you were still sleeping," she explains. "I'm Isabelle."

Isabelle explains the situation to Daryl. How the cauterization to prevent the spread of infection from that acidic walker, where he was, and how you were, all while removing the bandage on his arm. She makes some other conversation, but Daryl is mostly quiet, too busy with thoughts of you. However, Daryl isn't panicked, just concerned.

He doesn't feel the woman or any nuns at the abby had ill intent. They could've just left you both to die, but they didn't. Instead taking total strangers back to their home. Daryl does just want to see you. To make absolute sure you're safe and alright.

After Isabelle leaves, he takes her up on her offer of a bath. He can see the steam from here, and after the freezing cold ocean water from the other day, he needs it. He also doesn't need you worrying about his wound, so keeping it clean was a good first step.

He makes it quick and hasty, already out with a towel when Isabelle enters with clean clothes. Daryl feels a little exposed, only dressed with a towel, but Isabelle is quick to exit once she gives him the clean clothes.

Daryl hurries out the door once he's dressed. He doesn't really know where he's going, but he follows the noise of chatter. He peeks his head in the room he hears the most noise and spots you, talking with a couple of the nuns and eating soup.

"Hey, Angel," you say, dropping your spoon in your soup when he makes his presence known. You stand, placing your hand on his cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the side of his mouth.

"You alright?" Daryl asks, tentatively touching the bruise on your temple. You nod, smiling when you kiss his wrist.

"Isabelle said your arm looks good." You sit down and Daryl follows suit. One of the women places a bowl in front of him, and he's quick to dig in and slurp up his soup.

     "Told you, 'm fine."

     "I know, but if I don't worry about you, who will?"

     Isabelle gives you and Daryl a tour of the convent. She introduces Laurent to you both and explained the miracle of his birth, how he's special. Daryl scoffed, but he could tell you were a little intrigued with Isabelle's plan of getting him to a better place. Somewhere safer and where he could be happier.

     Daryl would've flat out refused if it weren't for you. You convinced him to help out the women on their journey. Isabelle promised she'd help get you and Daryl back home, or at least access to a radio. It didn't seem very promising, but one look at you and he folded.

     You always called him your angel, but in truth, you're the real angel.

After all the introductions and outlining the plan of getting Laurent to wherever he needs to be, it's dinner time. Laurent was a strange kid. He liked to talk and sometimes he'd get all philosophical and ask Daryl deep questions. His odd questions and badgering took up most of the day. You mostly just giggled at Daryl and his usually half-assed answers.

At dinner, the other nuns regard Daryl nervously. You had quietly joked to him that's it's his 'intimidating energy,' as you called it.

"But don't worry, I find it really hot," you had said in a whisper while the nuns set the table. Daryl blushed and moved to hide his face from you, which just made you giggle.

The only ones that speak English are Isabelle, Laurent, and another nun named Sylvie. The three translated any conversation between you, Daryl, and the other women. It was mostly them asking questions to learn about you and Daryl.

"She wants to know how long you two have been married," Isabelle asks, translating a question from the oldest nun, Mother Superior.

"Oh," you had said, stumbling a little. Daryl could feel heat flush his cheeks and ears. "We're not married."

Sylvie and a few of the other women had made a slightly surprised face, and Mother Superior looked just aghast when Isabelle translated.

"Don't you two live together?" Laurent asks, ever on top of things. "And haven't you been together for years?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shrug. "Guess we just never thought to."

"There even a point?" Daryl asks. "No courts, no paper to sign."

It seemed nobody had to translate for the oldest nun this time. Maybe it was his tone or nonchalant shrug while he said it, but it seemed she got the point. She made a noise of astonishment, shook her head while muttering a player and making the motion of a cross. Daryl honestly thought it was a little comical, never did he think he'd be discussing marriage with a bunch of nuns, in an abby, in France no less.

"It's about taking a vow in front of God," Sylvie says. "A show that you love each other and you'll be together forever."

Daryl could feel the awkward tension radiating from you in waves. You moved your food around your plate, slightly unwilling to make eye contact with the nuns. Daryl just shrugged. He knew he loved you, he knew he would be with you forever, he knew you felt the same, he didn't need a big show to prove that.

Daryl never gave marriage a huge thought. Before he met you, he was sure he'd never even fall in love. After you, he was so deeply head over heels for you, he never thought he needed a big wedding to prove how much he loved you. He showed it everyday, at least he tried his best to. Maybe he wasn't the most romantic or emotionally inclined, but he tried to make you feel loved and happy.

Besides, you'd never hinted at marriage. If you did, maybe it'd be a different story. You'd never said you wanted a wedding, did you want one? Did you want to be married, and thought he wouldn't want it? Daryl's not sure.

Now that he's thinking, really thinking during the semi-awkward silence that replaced the once lively conversation, maybe you did want marriage. Daryl remembers all those years ago when Maggie and Glenn married. They didn't have a huge wedding or anything, just a ring and a small celebration with some scavenged champagne. He remembers how happy you looked, how fondly you gazed at the happy couple.

He remembers how he made a comment similar to the one he just made, about no point of being married. You had nudged his shoulder and told him to be quiet, that it was romantic. That it didn't matter there were no marriage licenses or wedding gowns or honeymoons, they were happy and in love. How they just wanted to be husband and wife, just because they were committed to one another.

Daryl looks at you seated next to him, and it's like something changes. Maybe calling you his wife wouldn't be so bad.

Isabelle leads you and Daryl to separate rooms. After the big news of you and Daryl being unwed, Mother Superior didn't want you both staying in the same room. It was bizarre to Daryl, but you wanted to respect their wishes. So he conceded, and allowed Isabelle to take you away from him.

You blowed him a dramatic kiss as you walked away, like you were going off to war or something. He played along anyway like he always did with you, grabbing the kiss and bringing it to his chest just to see you laugh.

Now, laying in bed without your steady presence beside him was unwelcome. He felt strange, like he was missing a vital part of him. He couldn't even remember the last time he's slept without you. Even those years he was out in the woods looking for Rick, you were there, always right beside him.

He tossed and turned, fiddling with a little scrap of stained white fabric he had clutched in his hand. It was from his angle wing on his vest. A small piece had peeled off after the long trip in the ocean, and he had shoved it in his pocket without thinking.

Eventually, Daryl stood. Maybe he'd get in trouble with the nuns in the morning, but he doesn't care, he needs you. He carefully pushes open his door before making his way towards your room. He enters your room without knocking, letting out a relived sigh when he sees you laying in bed.

"You didn't even knock," you say, sitting up in bed. "What if you had just barged into one of the nun's rooms? Don't think they would've liked it much."

"I must have God on my side." You snort and shake your head. He walks over to you and sits on your bed, pushing you back into the pillows.

"What're you doing here anyway? Got lost?" You tease, a smirk on your face that Daryl kisses away.

"Missed you," he murmurs against your lips, before pulling away just barley to trail feverish kisses from your jaw to your neck. You groan.

"They won't like this much you know," you say, heated breaths fanning out across the top of Daryl's head. "We should respect their wishes. We're in their home."

"Whatever, we're helpin' them with their mission, ain't we?" You push Daryl away lightly, and so he pulls away. You're giving him a concerned look that makes Daryl worry.

"Yes, but they're also helping us. They're helping to get us home, and I don't wanna risk anything." Daryl sighs, the breath causing your messy hair to flutter slightly. He smooths it down tenderly.

"I'm gonna get you home. Don't gotta worry." You grasp his hand playing with your hair and kiss his fingertips. He curls his fingers around your hand and lifts it to his lips, placing careful kisses to your knuckles.

"I do hate sleeping without you," you admit, voice quiet. He nods, placing your hand gently to rest on your stomach, still holding it.

"Guess I just have to marry you then." Daryl had intended it as a joke, but realized he was serious about halfway through. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he gazes at you, hair fanning out on the pillow with an adorably confused look on your face.

He's not sure what took him so long to realize. But he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He wants you to be his wife. You're already his everything, his forever, he wants it to be official. He wants to hear you call him your husband, he wants you to be his and him yours in every sense there is.

"Are you joking?" You ask, a furrow to your brow and a tilt to your head. He shakes his head, his insecurities begin to evade his mind.

"I love you," he starts, unable to meet your questioning gaze. "I never thought about marriage, never thought anyone could love me like that." You push his hair from his face and caress his cheek, regarding him with a look so full of love he knows he's made the right choice. "But I wanna do it with you, if you want."

"Why now?" You sit up, pressing your palms on either side of his face. "Is it because of what the nuns said?"

"Kinda." He shrugs, and you smile softly.

"Daryl, I don't need us to be married to know you love me. You show me that every day. You don't need to prove anything." He shakes his head, holding your hands in place by grasping your wrists loosely.

"I want to be married to you. I never really thought about it before this s'all, but I do," Daryl confirms, holding your gaze steadily now. "I wanna be with you forever. You're everything to me."

Tears collect in your eyes and Daryl is terrified he messed up, that maybe you didn't want this. Maybe this would feel too possessive to you, like you'd be tied down, like he'd be owning you. Before his thoughts can spiral too out of control, you kiss him. You kiss him so hard and so passionately, Daryl almost falls backwards.

"I'd love to marry you." Daryl grips at your hips and you clutch at his shoulders. He rests his forehead against yours.

"I don't have a damn ring," Daryl says. He pulls out the little scrap of fabric from his vest, taking hold of you hand. He ties the little scrap around your finger, rubbing over your ring finger when he's done. "That'll have to do for now."

"It's a piece of your vest?" Daryl nods, and you grin so brightly, you almost light up the entire room. "Now I always have a little part of my Angel with me."

     Daryl smiles, his chest feeling warmer than ever before. He shoves you down into the bed and follows quickly, pulling you up to lay on his chest. You laugh and admire the makeshift ring adorning your left hand.

"You're my Angel."

     Daryl's eyes crack open to the sound of a door creaking and is immediately met with bright sunlight. A deep sigh is what causes him to open his eyes fully. Isabelle is standing by the door, fresh clothes in hand with a disappointed look on her face.

     "Mother Superior won't be happy," she says. Daryl looks to your form curled up next to him, and he couldn't care less. You roll over to face Isabelle and grin so brightly, Daryl's heart might just burst.

     "But we're married," you say, your voice still sleepy, while throwing out your hand from under the covers to show off the 'ring.' You look so proud Daryl can't help but smile. "Got married last night."

     "What?" Daryl isn't sure if she looks more confused or shocked. "You got married? Last night?"

     "Yeah," Daryl replies nonchalantly, throwing his legs off the bed to stand.

     "You need someone to marry you, you can't just decide your married." Isabelle looks amused now as she places the clothing on the dresser.

     "What for?" You ask, sitting up. "Like Daryl said, there's no marriage licensing or anything."

     "Yes, but you could still be married in the eyes of God," Isabelle says, a thoughtful look on her face.

     "We ain't catholic," Daryl says, reaching to grab the clothes Isabelle placed on the dresser. She pushes his hand away.

     "Humor us," she says, getting met with confused looks from both you and Daryl. "Let us put something together. I'm sure no one will mind a little wedding."

     You and Daryl tried to refuse, but it seems nuns are very convincing. Or maybe it's just because they're all women. Soon you and Daryl are getting set up in makeshift wedding attire. Daryl is getting prepped up in the clothing closest to a tux while nuns are creating a dress for you. Sewing and pinning up a white garnet they found to resemble something of a wedding gown.

     Daryl was less than ecstatic, but he saw how happy you looked when you rushed by him to get fitted into the gown and he was suddenly ok with it all. The next time he saw you, it was while he was at the alter.

     The women had made a trail of different fabrics to make a sort of carpet trail to the alter. Your white dress stands out against the multitude of colors of the carpet. Daryl's eyes flit from your dress to your sparkling eyes to your contagious grin before settling on the fabric tied in a knot around your finger.

     He can't take his eyes off you.

     Even when you finally make it across from him and Mother Superior begins to read from the Bible can he focus on anything but you. The foreign words are the last thing on his mind.

     "I love you," you mouth to him, smiling with tears glistening your eyes. Daryl feels tears begin to prick at his own.

     "Love you, too," he mouths back. He's nudged slightly by the young boy, and that's what brings him back. "Huh?"

     "Say 'I do,'" Laurent mumbles, causing the nuns to laugh.

     "Oh, yeah, I do," Daryl says, feeling a blush creep up his neck. You smile at him, causing him to smile back and forgetting the slight embarrassment. After a few more words read from the holy book, the officiate turns to you.

     "I do," you say with a watery laugh. A tear finally falls and Daryl is swift with wiping it away. After a few more words, the book is closed, and she motions for you to kiss.

     Daryl crashes his lips to yours without a seconds hesitation. You hum into his lips and Daryl can feel your tears drip down. He pulls away, to realize it was his own tears he felt. You grin happily, brushing away his tears with your thumbs.

     "We're married," you say, quietly. Daryl feels his heart miss a beat and he can't help press another firm kiss to your lips.

     It's decided the journey to deliver Laurent will begin tomorrow. One day of resting up and celebrating the newlyweds. You're the happiest Daryl has seen since you left to look for Rick. He keeps finding himself grinning to himself seeing you so happy, chatting with Isabelle and Sylvie and eating delicious food. Even indulging in a little homemade wine tucked away for special occasions.

     "Hey, you," you whisper, winding your arms around Daryl's neck. You teeter on your feet, just a bit tipsy on the wine. Your grin is so happy and free, so infectious, Daryl grins back. "Having fun?" He shrugs.

     "I like watching you have fun." He twirls a little piece of your hair. You frown, Daryl rubs it away with his thumb which results in a kiss on his finger tips. "I'd have more fun if we were alone," he murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell. You smack him lightly on the shoulder and giggle.

     "This is a house of God, Daryl." He shrugs at your teasing. You rock back and forth between your left and right foot, fingers twisting around the curls at the back of his neck. Suddenly, you look thoughtful as you gaze at him.

     "What?" He questions.

     "I just wish Carol and Maggie could be here, our family." You shrug, looking down. "I miss them, Jude and RJ, too. All of them." He kisses your forehead and gently lifts up your chin to meet his eyes.

     "We'll have to have a party when we get back." Daryl kisses your forehead again, lips moving down to your temple.

     "Yeah, ok," you say, nodding and smiling again, happy at the thought of celebrating with your family. "A nice party after our honeymoon."

     "Honeymoon?" Daryl asks with a smirk. "Where do you wanna go?"

     "Uh, we're in France," you say, a look on your face screaming 'obviously.' "We're going to Paris on our way to deliver Laurent, right?" Daryl nods and snorts.

     "You think the Eiffel Tower's still standin'?" You drop your hand from the back of his neck to poke his side, a shocked expression on your face.

     "Don't burst my bubble! Of course it's still standing!" You exclaim. Daryl concedes and nods, lifting his hands palms out to put them in a surrendering stance. "I've always wanted to go to Paris. I never imagined I'd have a destination wedding."

     Daryl never imagined he'd have a wedding in general. Never thought he'd find someone so loving and amazing as you. As Daryl gazes lovingly into your eyes, hands spread out on your back, he knows he's made the right choice.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #twd #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #the walking dead: daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic

[whorediaries-09]

part two of maroon where they have an angsty arguement and both of them are crying and screaming and harry cries so they have to put him to sleep and then talk, but they end up kissing.

part two of maroon? sure.

the great war;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- angst, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more.) a/n- i think i really kinda hate this one.

ps- changed the plot kinda cause like my mind only went with this.

the slut club

and we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover

in the bustling city of london, a cacophony of sound engulfs the snowflakes falling from the transcendent sky. you clutch your hands underneath the warmth of your coat, hiding your nose under the layers of scarf you had wrapped around your neck. tom handed you a firewhiskey and you let the warm liquid flow down your throat like a bittersweet memory.

it was another day with failure. you had been trying to find a job for remus, but rarely anyone would accept a werewolf as their assistant. you worked as a healer, so you couldn't possibly hire him as your assistant. and he remained too modest to accept money without any reason.

'thanks tom,' you say, your voice muffled against warm wool. you cling a few sickles on the counter. 'keep the change.'

you disapparate to your house. the cold metal of your keys jingle under your grip, and you unlock your door.

'harry, honey, i'm home,' you call out. your heart skips a beat when the regular trotting of small steps don't ponder at your call. you shout his name louder and your voice echoes in your hollow hallway.

the silence that echoes in your dull heartbeat is stronger. flashing memories of walking past james' dead body to discover lily's corpse flooded your mind and your footsteps faltered as you walked into your bedroom. anger throbbed inside you, anger at yourself and sirius. you had told him to stay with harry. why hadn't he come?

your fears weren't true. sirius lay in his dog form with harry on top of him. both of them seemed to be fast asleep.

'sirius, wake up. i'm here.' you say, picking up harry from his body. you place a soft kiss on his forehead, and your unintentional tears wet his cheek. you wipe off the tear before it would flow down his neck.

sirius gets up from the floor. you notice a bruise on his neck, but you don't question it. you sway harry in your arms, walking towards his cot.

'let me have him for the night,'

you stop dead in your tracks. with your back turned to his face, you're not hesitant when you offer him your reply.

'no.'

'why not?'

'i'd let you have him if your trauma wasn't so fresh. you're coping mechanisms aren't fit enough to keep a baby,'

'what the fuck do you mean by that?'

you place harry in his cot, turning towards him.

'don't curse. you know very well what i mean.'

'oh- so you're going to stand there pretending you're the best mother ever?'

'i never said that, no. i just have comparatively better coping mechanisms. and i'm not shaming you for your coping mechanisms either. so really, don't take any offence,'

'no offence my foot, i'm his godfather!'

'i'm his godmother, sirius,'

'godmother? oh yeah the great mother. don't stand there acting like a saint when i take care of him throughout the day. you just go out and be a healer. you don't care about him.'

you're not sure if his words are meant to sting. but they do. like little pricks absorbing into your heart with every second you stare into his eyes. your vision is blurred, hazed but your mind is clear as day. you feel bruised like violets. it was like taking your poison all alone. your breathing is rugged, hot tears flowing down your cheeks. you were diesel, a desire.

and he was playing with fire.

'i-i'm sorry i didn't mean that,' he says, his voice cracking. he moves closer to you, holding you. and maybe it's the familiarity of his touch. but it felt like bloodshed, a lost morning glory within the grasps of an unfair war. you feel like you're sinking when his scent haunts you again. you feel like you're on fire when his touch thrives into your skin again. you feel like you gather storms, never knowing what they'll mean.

you're not sure whether he wants to haunt you again or not. you're not sure whether he wants to go with grace or not. you're not sure if you're dead to him.

your tears paint his shirt. the war was over, the battleships would sink beneath the waves. so was the bloodshed. you'd never weep in a sunlit room alone. it was a cold ghostly grace of his lips against yours. which cursed your name, wrecked you. it was your home, it was engraved in your bones.

and maybe his love would never slip out of your reaches.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius #angst #heavy angst

[eletricheart]

What was I made for?

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 928

Basically this song has been on my mind since watching Barbie, so I tried to make a story around the quote: " I don't know how to feel".

ps: theres a bit of angst, but happy ending

ps2: not proofread

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

Donna believed you were the most gentle creature to have ever walked on this Earth. She adored your stories, your playdates with Angie, your patience, your kindness.

However, sometimes the dollmaker was certain you were dangerous. You made her happy, you made her want to be more than Lady of House Beneviento, and that was…confusing.

You were in another game of hide and seek, this time most of the dolls chose to participate which left you running around the house. Donna was having fun, at least at first, a call from Mother Miranda was enough to sour the entire day.

The dollmaker didn't enjoy producing anesthesia, especially knowing it's purpose, but she still rarely failed to comply, hence the fifteen minute long phone call complaining about her behavior. But that is what she was made for, what Miranda made her to be, so the Lady apologized and reassured the Priestess that it wouldn't happen again.

You noticed Donna's change of mood, momentarily stopping to play the game in order to check on her.

You walked over to her gently, but still made enough noise so as to not scare her. "Donna? Is everything alright?"

The woman gave you a tight nod, fidgeting her fingers, anxiously.

You sighed, slowly touching her arm. "How about we go around the garden? It's a lovely day and the little darlings are driving me insane."

She chuckled and agreed.

During the stroll, Donna's mind was still overworking, not even your inputs regarding the flowers could silence them.

She stopped abruptly, turning to see you through her veil. "You have to leave."

You opened and closed your mouth, not exactly knowing what to say. "I-I. Why? Did I do something wrong?"

The dollmaker took a deep breath, second thoughts mixed with fear were overwhelming the woman. "I was made to serve Mother Miranda, and only that. You're distracting me, so please leave."

Your eyebrows shot up in not only surprise but also confusion. "But we're friends." Your voice lowering at every letter.

"I don't have friends."

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Donna didn't hear from you for three months. Angie stopped asking after the second.

The air became suffocating in her territory, even Mother Miranda was having difficulties in staying for longer than 30 minutes. Alcina tried calling, so did Karl, both reached a dead end. The dollmaker had destroyed her phone around the first week without you.

The Lady still complied to the Priestess demands, this time arriving through letters.

Your life also wasn't that great, your time with Donna was the highlight of your days. Now you have to survive the village who was even more unfriendly since your connection to the Lady was now nonexistent.

You decided to try again after three months of no news. The Duke wasn't happy to enter the Beneviento territory, but you used some guilt trip techniques that Angie taught you.

Now, all you had to do was wait for the Duke to deliver your package, and hope she'd have you back.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Donna wanted to cry when she saw your gift. She was trying so hard to forget you, to paint you as a bad person, but here you were sending her a custom made tool box for her garden supplies.

Donna was scared, she wished to talk to you so badly. But what if she disappointed Mother Miranda again? What if you were disappointed in what she did?

After a week of over-thinking, the dollmaker finally sent you a gift back.

And that's what you both did for the next month, sometimes you were out of ideas and just sent her origami, when she was out of ideas (which was rare) she'd let Angie prepare the surprise (usually it blew up in your face).

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You were the one to visit, it started out slow, you didn't want to rush her.

Afternoon tea became dinner dates, sleepover was code for staying all day, and soon enough you were back to before it all ended. Of course you were afraid she'd kick out again, but the time you'd spend with her was worth the pain of potentially losing.

Neither you or Donna would bring up what happened, it was an unspoken agreement. Sometimes Angie would try to talk about it, but was quickly shut down with "it doesn't matter" or Donna walking away.

Occasionally you'd catch her staring at you, going back and forth between the decision of talking to you properly.

It was just another wednesday when she stopped you in the kitchen.

"I-I need to speak with you." Donna said with fidgeting fingers.

You took a deep breath. "Okay…"

She pulled the chair for you both to sit in front of each other. "Are we friends?"

You let a relieved breath. "Of course, I adore you."

She nodded slowly. "But what if…I don't want just that?"

Your eyes widened. "What do you want then?"

She lowered her head with a sigh. "I don't know. It's all so confusing."

You leaned forward to grasp her hands gently. "Is that why you asked me to leave?"

Donna was shaking when she gave you a tight nod. "I'm not supposed to feel this way. This isn't what I was made for."

You gave her a gentle smile. "You're made to be yourself, Donna. It's okay to not understand your feelings, I don't understand mine for most of the time. But I do know that I'm happy with you. And whatever choice you make, I'm here for you."

Donna nodded slowly. "I want to try…Will you help me?"

You smiled. "Always."

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

masterlist

#Spotify #resident evil village #re8 #non canon #resident evil #fanfic #donna beneviento #lady beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #lady beneviento x reader #lady angie #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic #angie re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil fandom #sorry for the angst #angst with a happy ending #angst #fluff #resident evil fluff

[artemiseamoon]

Blood is a good color on you

Ser Harwin Strong x f reader *

Words: 812

A03

Warnings: a boar attack, killing said boar. The dead creature in the gif.

An: this is the last one I got today. Also a treat cause you are getting the whole post. A03 link at the top. I didn’t plan to be on tumblr this much, this man is testing my semi-hiatus 😂

Reader is of legal age and an adult. I never write huge age g*ps or minors with adults for obvious reasons. If you want that, I’m the wrong blog for you.

“Don’t go in the woods alone, Princess. It’s not safe. If you need protection-"

You cut Jason Lannister off before he could finish. “I don’t need protection.”

He's been on your heels since your family arrived, even though you made it clear that you have zero interest in him. He even tried to impress your father and offered him a gift. It’s of no surprise though, ego and the Lannister's go hand-in-hand.

Jason wasn’t even invited to this conversation. You were simply letting your sibling know you needed some air, and a break from all the stuffy royalty. He took it upon himself to come over and eavesdrop.

Your sister rolled her eyes at him and placed a hand on your shoulder. You walked away together and wrapped up your conversation in private. Once done, you retrieved your horse, then headed to the woods.

At first, the escape to the woods was everything you wanted it to be; quiet, soothing, and grounding. You even found a sweet spot by a river. As day turned to night, the restful escape was abruptly ended by a wild boar.

Not letting fear get the best of you, you pulled your blade from your boot and braced yourself as it charged you. It knocked you down with its weight and pinned you beneath it.

You had no intention of dying soon, especially not to be eaten alive by a damn boar. With every muscle in your body, you fought back and stabbed the creature in the neck over and over until the last squeal left its mouth.

Killing an animal isn’t something you wanted to do or like to do; this kill was a matter of life or death. You shoved the boar off of you with some effort and sucked in a deep breath, pulling air into your lungs.

A few minutes passed before you got up. The damn thing crushed you, and everything from your arms to your lower body ached. Once on your feet, you got your horse, then headed back to the camp.

When you emerged from the tree line, there were several people still gathered around and celebrating, while others were away in the tents.

You bring your horse to the temporary stable, and continued the rest of the way on foot.

There’s enough light left in the night that the blood on your face, chest and gown is visible. You can tell by the way people are looking at you.

Paying no attention to what's being said, you set your sights on your family's tent, just up ahead and to the left. You wanted nothing more than to strip these clothes off and wipe the blood from your body.

Halfway to your tent, you glanced to your left and saw Ser Harwin Strong. Unlike everyone else staring at you with a horrified or confused expression, the strongest man of the seven kingdoms is smiling at you.

A small grin curled on your lips in response as you slowed your steps. Everyone knows who Harwin Strong is, and it is impossible to not notice him.

Due to your family's location, you didn't have many opportunities to see the knight, but every time you did, you noticed him.

Harwin's hands stayed busy as he continued what he's doing. His eyes locked on yours. Before your mind could make a decision or form a thought, you changed direction and headed over to him.

Once you reached the table, you rested your hands on your hips and looked him over. “You seem amused.”

“Because I am. I like a woman who hunts.”

“I wasn’t hunting, actually. A damn boar charged at me.”

His hands went still, and concern flashed in his eyes, “are you okay? Did it hurt you?

“I killed it. And no, it didn't hurt me."

That amused and deliciously charming smile returned to his lips, “you went head-to-head with a boar and won?”

You raised a brow and shrugged.

“I like that,” he wiped his hand on a nearby cloth and rounded the table. You turned to face him as he approached you.

“How about a drink? After I’m done here. Unless you need to rise early?”

“I’m a night owl. Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”

He chuckled softly as his eyes moved over your body, then back to your face, “Trust me, you’ll tire before I princess.”

“We’ll see," You winked at him and started walking backwards. His eyes smoldered with desire and hunger. “Meet me over there,” you pointed to a location, “in an hour.”

Harwin took a step back and continued devouring you with his eyes, “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” You replied before turning around. You continue on your way, feeling his eyes on you as you walk.

Unable to stop smiling, you ignored the other stares and think about Ser Harwin.

More Harwin

Masterlist

#harwin strong #ser harwin strong #hotd #house of the dragon #harwin x f reader

[pappydaddy]

my little girl (j.h.)

a/n: this is really short, i am so sorry. hopefully it's good, i was desensitizing myself to the song again (a yearly occurrence bc i bawl like a baby when i hear it). also, i aged the reader up to be an older teen starting university. i felt like it would make a better plotline, but the reader has a canonically late-year birthday (december) so she is seventeen. hope you don't mind lovely!

ps, i am trying a new format. we'll see if i like it...

fandom: stranger things | pairing: jim hopper x fem!teen!daughter!reader (father/daughter)

requested by the lovely @sunnysidesadie (hope you enjoy it💛!)

synopsis: visiting her old cabin when she misses her dad is normal for y/n. what isn't is her supposedly dead dad suddenly showing up. | based on this song by tim mcgraw (i grew up on country music, don't judge me) that always makes me cry so... | au where vecna stuff happens at another time

taglist: @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: grief mentioned | (believed to be) dead father | emotional? | not being able to trust things

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

Standing in the ruins of her father’s cabin, Y/N’s chest ached. She often came here, ever since that day last summer. It looked the exact same as it did that night - a shell of a once lively house. Even if this wasn’t the home he raised her in, it was the cabin they made a home in such a short period of time. The Mind Flayer had ruined it, only the walls left standing. Everything else smashed and broken, even possession. 

  The sting of tears made Y/N’s eyes feel like they were burning out of her head. The Mind Flayer took her home, but the Russians took her father. In their greed to become the most feared country, they ripped the one thing Y/N loved the most from her. The one thing that she had in her life that was constant was gone. Sure, Jim Hopper was battling his demons, drinking, a bit aggressive in his parenting tactics, and a horrible communicator, but he was her father. He loved her with every fibre of his being. 

  Swallowing thickly, she spied a broken picture frame sticking out of the ruins, most likely from the wind pushing it around overtime. Slowly walking towards it, Y/N felt the old floor shifting under her. Soon, it wasn’t going to be safe to stand here. She feared that day. The bit of cabin was the only thing she had left of her father. He had sold their home when they had to protect El. Their prized possessions and keepsakes were either damaged or pillaged by teens who stumbled upon the empty cabin before they could finish off the Mind Flayer. 

  Bending down, she grabbed the picture, wiping off the dirt. It was her father and her. She was six, in a horribly itchy red and green dress. It was her elementary school Christmas Recital. She had on bright tights and a pair of shiny black shoes. Her grandmother had helped him dress her that time. Usually, for this recital, he would have put her in a green dress with her pink ballet tights. After that year, he had stuck to the same colour palette. Smiling down fondly at the picture, she couldn’t help but let a tear slip. “I miss you. So much,” She whispered, eyes squeezed closed. “I think you’d be proud of me, Dad,” She swallowed the hard ball that was forming in her throat, trying to ignore how her heart felt like it was being ripped in half. “I’m taking on this whole world. Just like you always told me to.” 

  Y/N stood there, looking in her full length mirror. It was her first day of senior year, it had to be perfect. Her shaking hands brushed over her outfit for the sixth time in that minute. Humming, she shuffled to the side, inspecting the outfit she had picked out last night for any flaw, turning up with nothing. However, she couldn’t find anything great about the outfit either. Light blue coloured mom jeans (brand new so fitting perfectly), converse, and a dark green mock neck sweater. There was nothing bad but nothing particularly amazing about the outfit. “Y/N, hurry up and eat your breakfast before you run out the door saying you’re too busy to eat.” Her dad told her, his voice nearing her partially open door. 

  “Coming.” She told him, but she didn’t move from her spot in front of the mirror. In the reflection, she saw her door being pushed open and her father appeared, clad in his brown uniform, his had noticeably missing. 

  “Y/N, I told you already, your outfit looks fine. I want you to eat before you leave,” He reminded her. Despite his gruff and aggressive appearance, her father’s words were spoken with a sense of softness. She sighed, slumping her shoulders as she turned away from the mirror. His brown eyes watched her. He was dense with the whole girl dad thing. It wasn’t easy trying to understand them, but he tried. Which is why he stepped into the room further, pushing the door closed behind him. “What’s going on? It’s gotta be more than worrying about your outfit.” 

  He sat on her bed seconds before she joined him. “I don’t know. My life is changing, should I really be wearing the same clothes I wear every first day?” 

  “What are you talking about,” He questioned, brows furrowed as he looked at her outfit. “Those pants and the shirt are all new. You’ve never worn them before.” She laughed at this, which wasn’t his intention, but he couldn’t help but smile and feel his heart melting. 

  “Not the clothes, but the style. I’m graduating, my life is completely flipped upside down after this year, but here I am dressing the exact same way and doing my hair the exact same way, going to the exact same school to hang out with the exact same people,” She muttered, feeling stupid about her worries. “I don’t know,” She shrugged. “It’s scary and I don’t think I am ready for it.” She confessed, her eyes finally looking up at her. The same exact eyes looked back at her. Everybody said that she had her father’s eyes. 

  Her father sighed in understanding, smiling sadly down at her. “If anyone isn’t ready for you to graduate, it’s me. I mean, one second I am dropping you off at kindergarten then all of a sudden, you’re sixteen getting ready for your senior year,” He informed her, nudging her shoulder with his arm, making her laugh. She hated being so much younger than her classmates, but she was starting senior year as a sixteen year old, turning seventeen in December. He had to fight the sadness filling him, knowing his daughter is growing up, because she needed him to be her rock. She needed him to be her cheerleader. “Never in my mind did I ever think you weren’t ready. You are going to take on this whole wide world, chasing your dreams,” He suddenly turned serious. “And I will be here, cheering you on because you’re always going to be my little girl. And just know, as long as you know the road that takes you home again, I will be here for you.” 

  “Just the road? That’s the only way you’ll be there for me?” She asked. Hopper looked at her, ready to get mad that she took it like he wasn’t going to be there for her, but that crooked little smile played on her lips - the same crooked little smile she wore when she was a kid whenever she did anything she wasn’t supposed to. Instantly, his anger and his naturally icy heart was melting, just like it always did and just like it always will. 

  “Real smart, you little ass,” He laughed, making her join in on the laughter. “Now, I still want you to eat, but I would rather you not drive like a maniac trying to get to school in time so I will put a few more snacks on the counter for you to stuff in your bag on your way out. I’ll add some change to it so you can get a drink at lunch,” He informed her as he stood up, walking out the door. “Have a great day, Pumpkin. I love you. So much.” He told her, he couldn’t put how much he loved her into words - he wasn’t good at emotions and sappy stuff, but he was confident she was sure how much he loved her, even if she didn’t realise he loved her more than anything. 

  “I love you more.” She said back and he was instantly reminded of everytime she said that exact thing to him in the past. From the time she could speak to that moment. For a second, he wanted her to be that toothless seven year old cuddling her teddy bear as he tucked her in again. 

  “I hope you would be proud of me,” She added in as her eyes slowly blinked open. “I am kinda taking on the world by myself at the moment-” 

  “And I’m sure you’re taking the world by storm despite that.” A voice scared her, making her whirl around, the picture frame clutched to her chest as her heart tried to run out of her chest. There he stood. Shaved head, bruises, and a crooked smile - the same one she wore when she got in trouble. 

  “Dad?” She breathed out, eyes wide. Was it a ghost? Was it her mind playing horrible tricks? What a cruel joke the universe was playing on her if the man standing before her in clothes that were obviously not his was all her imagination. Tentatively, she stepped towards him as he stood on the ground, through the damaged front door that was nearly off its hinges completely.

  The man (or product of her grief) nodded. “It’s me, Pumpkin. For real.” He reassured her. He knew she was reluctant, not wanting to get her hopes up. The reality of the Upside Down has put them through hell and back. It was hard to trust anything the universe gave them. Win the lottery? Are they sure it wasn’t just a cruel trick the Upside Down conceived to put them through more hell? Supposedly dead father standing before you? Was Y/N sure it wasn’t secretly some sort of shape shifting creature set to destroy El? 

  She walked a few more steps, finally reaching the door frame. Hopper stayed in one spot, but now Y/N could see the people gathered off to the side, giving the father and daughter space. Joyce and Murray stood in the treeline, giving Y/N nods of reassurance. “Dad!” She broke into a smile, her heart delighted. She was too overcome with happiness to even think about questioning how he was standing there if he was dead. 

  The photo slipped from her grasp as she ran from the doorway, all the way down the rickety old steps. Arms out, she nearly tackled her father, hot tears streaming down her face as she actually felt the warmth of his embrace wrapping around her. He was real. He was here. His heart was beating. She could feel it hitting his chest. She could hear it as she pressed her ear against his chest, nearly squeezing the life out of him, “So you know the road that leads you home after all, even without me here, huh?” Hopper asked, the tearful chuckle rolling through his large form. 

  Pulling her head from his chest, her arms still attached to him like a little girl who is scared. She kind of was a little girl scared that her father would disappear if she let him go. “Huh?”

  “You’re here. You came here all the way from West Lafayette. You knew the way home when you needed me. You did exactly what I told you that morning,” He took in her confused expression. “Joyce told me you chose Purdue. Smart girl, they did offer you a full-ride. Wish I could have been there to see your first day.” 

  “I wish you could have been there too, Dad.” She admitted, squeezing him in a hug again. 

  “Part of me doesn’t want to let you go back. Sometimes I wish I could just have a pause button so you would stop growing up. I would have paused it until I escaped the Russian base.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as tears started to fall from his eyes. Y/N was too overwhelmed to actually process that little bit of information, hoping to remember to ask him about it later. Joyce and Murray shared a look. This was a side of Hopper nobody saw. He was vulnerable. He was speaking in ways they didn’t think possible. 

  “No matter what happens, Dad,” Y/N pulled away from the hug slightly. “I’m always going to be your little girl. Me believing you were dead while you were really just a prisoner in a forgein country for so many months isn’t going to change that.” She joked, laughing through the tears rolling down her cheeks, the bright smile Hopper loved so much on her face.

  “You’ll always be my little girl,” He repeated, pressing his lips together. “Pigtails and all in my mind.” He smiled as she rolled her eyes playfully at this, pushing his shoulder before embracing him yet again, still scared that he’ll disappear again.  

#jim hopper request #jim hopper #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x daughter!reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things season 3 spoilers #stranger things spoilers #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things fics

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Love that hurts (Bruce Wayne)

Pairing: Battinson!Bruce Wayne X GN!Reader

Summary: after the explosion at the Wayne manor, Bruce looks for you at the hospitalWarnings: spoilers for the batman, lots of angst, not really a happy ending, I'm feeling angsty today sorry

WC: 1.3k

A/N: so guess who's having a batman phase? This bitch right here. But I have it bad for Battinson amd I cant stop thinking about him so expect more fics coming. This one is just to test the waters and also writing for him for the first time, so it's pretty short. Watch it flop like always.

Ps I'm taking battinson requests (smutty, angsty, fluffy, a mix, whatever your soul desires) so if anyone of yall have any please send them my way, I'll do my absolute best to make it happen.

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

It was hard to describe what exactly was going through Bruce's head. Panic? Anger? Maybe frustration? Or was it fear that he felt? Fear. Huh. He hadn't felt that in a long time. He learned how to lock that emotion deep inside his mind a long time ago. He wasn't scared of what might happen to him out there. He didn't care. But it wasn't his life he feared for this time. It was yours too. 

Bruce knew that you were at The Wayne Manor along with Alfred. Out of all the days you could've picked to come look for him you had to choose that night. All he could think about as he was speeding through the streets of Gotham was that he wished he had answered your calls, or seen your texts. Maybe then he could have convinced you to go home, to not wait for him. Maybe then he could've heard your voice again if you were— no. He couldn't do that to himself. But how could he not? How could he shake this feeling of frantic panic and anguish? He knew this was his fault, he knew Riddler was targeting him and the only two people that had ever given a shit about him got caught in the crossfire. 

He didn't remember driving to the hospital, or walking himself to the ICU. He felt like dead weight, hair and jacket pouring wet from the perpetual Gotham rain. He didn't know where his feet were taking him, he just walked, steel cold eyes staring dead ahead as his chaotic mind raced with a million thoughts, none of them exactly sunshine and rainbows. He kept replaying his last memory of you. And he deeply regretted the way that last encounter ended. He remembered you, face wet with hot tears, but you weren't yelling, it was worse, you were quiet, broken and tired. You were hurting and he just stood there, staring at you with the same stoic expression and the same cold blue eyes he always had. And to think you were the person dearest to him and he couldn't get himself to show it. Instead he let you walk away, heartbroken and hurt. He always did that, he always ended up hurting you. And now, you were hurt for real, because of him. 

Suddenly his mind went blank, and his feet stopped dead in their tracks. All the noise from the hospital was quickly drowned out by the sound of his beating heart and the shakiness of his breath. He didn't know what this feeling in the pit of his stomach was, but he knew that the second he spotted you he felt like he could breathe again. He approached you with slow and heavy steps, you hadn't noticed him yet and he couldn't bring himself to speak. 

You stood restless, the tips of your fingers were pressed against your lips and your breathing was uneven as you paced back and forth. But your breath was caught in your throat when you turned your head and you saw Bruce standing there, hair soaking wet and falling over his eyes. You suddenly felt a wave of relief wash over you. You hadn't heard anything from him in days, and after the explosion at the Wayne Manor you were terrified that something might have happened to him out there. But he was here. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to speak either, deep down you were still hurt and so angry at him. 

Neither of you said anything though. Bruce reached out to you and pulled you tight against his chest without saying a word. You should've fought it, you should've shoved him away, screamed in his face, but god knows you couldn't. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears already building up and you bawled your fist into the material of his black sweater. And he held you just as tight, one of his hands held the back of your hair as he rested the side of his face on the top of your head. He closed his eyes and for the first time all night, he felt like he could breathe. He didn't feel fear anymore. But he was still angry at himself, for not protecting you, for letting you leave his arms, because that's where you belonged, with him. As selfish as he knew that was.

Five, ten, fifteen, thirty seconds went by before Bruce moved back enough to be able to look at you. He grabbed your face between his hands. His eyes were as always unreadable, distant but behind them wasn't the iceberg you always saw, you saw something warm this time. 

"Are you okay?" Bruce finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He scanned over your face carefully, noting a couple of scrapes but nothing alarming. 

You simply nodded, your hands coming to rest on his wrists, "are you?" 

"You were in an explosion, how could you be worried about me?" There was a subtle shake in his voice when he mentioned the explosion, and his icy blue eyes darted away. Bruce Wayne and avoidance were one and the same. 

"You beat people up dressed as a bat every night, how could I not be worried?" You replied quietly, making sure to keep your voice down,  "I always worry about you Bruce." 

Bruce exhaled deeply, his jaw tight and gaze hard as always, "why did you go to the mansion? Do you realize how dangerous that was? I was worried. I thought you.. I thought something might have happened to you." 

Your eyebrows shot up and you chuckled dryly, "Bruce Wayne gives a shit about someone? Well maybe I should try to get myself killed more often just to hear you care about me, even if it's just a little bit." 

"Don't." The way he spoke made you look at him. It was authoritative, and it was stern. The hard expression on his face screamed he wasn't in the mood for your sarcasm. He held your jaw tightly as he leaned down to speak closely to you, "don't ever say that again. I can't lose you too. I don't want to. And I would do anything to ensure you're safe." 

"You want me to be safe?" You pursed your lips together and tilted your head back, almost as if you were trying to make up for the height difference between the two of you.  Bruce kept his lips tightly pressed together, eyebrows knitted into a perpetual withdrawn expression and cold blue eyes bored into your own. He nodded slowly, unsure as to where you were going with this. You brought your hands up his face and held it much like he had done to you mere minutes ago, "then let me in. The safest place for me is with you and you know that." 

Bruce averted his eyes and shook his head, trying to move his face away from your touch, "You really believe that? Look what happened tonight. You're going to end up hurt if you stay with me." 

"Well that's a risk I'm willing to take." You held his face tight between your hands as you looked up at him. If only he could see how you looked at him he would know how much you would do for him, maybe then he would understand why you stayed, why you always went back to him despite him always pushing you away and breaking your heart. "Let me take that risk, Bruce. It's my choice. Not yours. And I chose to I with you. No matter how much it may hurt." 

If only you knew how much it scared him to take that risk. Not many things scared him anymore, but the idea that he could lose you was far more haunting than any of the things he has done in the last two years. And that made him weak, he couldn't have that either. He couldn't allow himself the luxury of being afraid, because loving you scared him. So breaking your heart time and time again was easier than feeling what he felt tonight. But he couldn't let you go either. And it was selfish. All he could ever do was hurt you. And you would always go back, no matter how much it hurt to love him too. 

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #the batman #batman #batman x reader #battinson

[spideyspeaches]

Flesh ↬ (t.h)

A/N: IT’S THE MONTH OF HALLOWEEEEEENNNN. I'm excited and am gonna try and write nat least twice a week until the endgame so.. hehehe :D

Summary: You were thinking of him again. He was as fascinating to you as any creature you had come across in the eternity could get, but what you didn't understand was your attraction towards him. Your kind had been dealing with supernatural creatures like him- Vampires, for centuries. Yet you found him … different from others. To you, he was a thing of beauty, captivating and addicting the way blood was to him.

Warnings: blood, vampirism, sex (fingering? it’s not like, full penetration lol, but lets be cautious here, 18+ onli!!!), implied death, animal death and all the supernatural mumbo jumbo.

PS. if you recognise this fic, yes it’s that one, except it’s heavily edited and basically nothing like the old one kjdbjskah

P.p.s I might have more halloween themed works coming, should I make a separate masterlist for them?

WC: 3.3K

Pairing: Vampire!Tom x Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

You walked around the dark place, tracing your hands along the crevices and indents of the concrete walls, your jaw slacking at the beauty of the gold plated lines and crystal lights hanging around, adorning the walls and reflecting the moonlight as it entered through a tiny gap of the dark house.

You wondered what it felt like, to live in a place filled with darkness and lust that encompassed the human body in a burning desire, screaming until the human throat ripped itself apart, slapping until the flesh of your body was bitten into. You didn't know where the metaphors came from, but perhaps, you were learning the human language after spending quite some time with them.

You were thinking of him again. He was as fascinating to you as any creature you had come across in the eternity could get, but what you didn't understand was your attraction towards him. Your kind had been dealing with supernatural creatures like him- Vampires, for centuries. Yet you found him … different from others. To you, he was a thing of beauty, captivating and addicting the way blood was to him.

You could stare at him all day, you realised, as blood pumped through your vessel's body in an absurd depiction of what humans called "blushing", it's dead heart lighting up with your grace when you thought of his sharp jaw and blood red eyes, the way the veins in his forearms popped up whenever he fed or moved his lifeless flesh.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your back hit the concrete wall, pain coursing through your back as your wings took the brunt of the force.

“You're here.” You stated, looking at him up and down as he smiled. His fangs weren't outright visible, you noticed. Letting go of you in his chokehold, he nodded, looking down almost shyly.

“I would always come for you angel.” He said, voice rough from years of overuse. Crossing his arms, he fiddled with his fingers as you raised an eyebrow. He looked gaunt, lifeless, an ironic comparison when you come to think of it.

"Well that's one way to put it." You joked, smiling lopsided when you hear him shake his head with a laugh.

He had been dead for centuries, yet he looked the most alive. Vampires were weird that way, living like they actually had a beating heart, yet trapped in a dead body infected by an incurable disease. Your stomach roiled when you realised that you had thought of Vampirism as a disease.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"How long has it been since you've fed?" You asked back, standing fixing your crooked wings in a vain effort to straighten them. The torn feathers stared at you, almost tauntingly, urging you to use them as a getaway from him.

You had been banished from heaven for courting a vampire. Yet somehow, you didn't care if heaven would take you back or not. The one thing about falling in love with an immortal being is that the constant fear of losing your loved one comes undone.

"I fed yesterday." He smiled tightly, biting his lips enough to tear a small part of his skin. You saw right through the smile. You were a celestial being. Former or not.

"I think you're lying." You scoff, moving forward to tussle up his shirt a bit, tracing your fingers along his skin. You felt him shiver under your touch, whatever useless grace that was permanently etched in your vessel's bones making sensation possible for him.

"Fine. It's been a week. I'm starving and the pandemic seems to have infected almost half the population so people don't come out as often as they did." His confession sent a pang in your chest, pity lacing your brain.

"You know you could-"

"You know I can't."

Right. Until you restored your full grace, him feeding off of You could potentially kill you. You sometimes forgot that you were only human now, You hated being powerless, you realised numbly.

"Where are your bags?" You asked, referring to the blood bags he kept in the freezer.

"I took some but some of it has gone stale."

"What about cattle blood?"

"It's not the same." He shook his head.

Cattle blood was a good substitute, and many vampires lived on it, but there’s only so much substitutes you can take before you give in to the animalistic urge to get fresh blood.

Silence overtook you both, the ticking of the grandfather clock hitting your eardrums like a bomb going off in the distance. You faintly heard the rustle of leaves and what sounded like footsteps, relaxing the tense muscles of your shoulders when you realised that it was probably a stray animal. Seizing up the opportunity, you walk towards the source of the sound, brandishing your angel knife, holding it in a fist in a protective stance.

You startled when he suddenly appeared behind you, his hands on your shoulder as you stiffened at the approaching prey. Throwing your knife at the poor animal, you run towards it to see a gush of blood from the fallen deer. Kneeling down, you retrieve the knife, wiping off the blood on your clothes and move aside, you look away when you see him gulp, Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

“Go ahead.” You gestured at the animal. You felt no pity, you realised.

He didn’t wait a second before sinking his fangs into the dead creature, tearing apart the flesh and devouring the blood with a fervor that surprised you. You could see him breathe deeply from your periphery. You knew animal blood was not as satisfying as human blood was, but it was something. Better than nothing, right?

“Do you think you’d do… whatever you do for me was I an actual human?” He asks suddenly, making you raise an eyebrow at him. You thought about it yourself, especially now that you were in a mortal’s body. Would you have gone to the lengths of being banished from heaven to protect a human, a mortal, fragile human who would die with the snap of his neck, who would be gone after a short amount of time, leaving a gaping hole in you? You found that the answer was unclear to you.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.” you say instead, masking wonder with innocence.

“You know very well what I’m trying to say.” His mouth was coated in blood and it was a grotesque site, yet he was glowing under the moonlight.

You looked at him, properly meeting his eyes and gave a taut nod. You couldn’t get yourself to talk right now, knowing how selfish you might sound if he heard you talk about mortal life.

“Just because I know, doesn’t mean I have to answer.” You said a tad too harshly. Fiddling with your wings, you let them droop before breathing deeply. You saw him wipe the blood, getting it all over his sleeves. He was wearing sweats today, probably to dress up as the generation Z or whatever. It was cute.

You stayed in silence for more, the sounds of birds and crickets around you soothing your thoughts, and you could almost pretend that you were in heaven again, your wings fresh and strong as you sat in Eden’s garden, plucking apples and playing with your other mates. The stench of blood and flesh brought you back from your daydream, you realised that you were both sitting on the damp ground, legs crossed and hands tucked on your knees.

He was staring at you, fangs still barred, and you hated to admit it, but the human part of you that your grace had not infected felt turned on. He looked amazing, the breaking of dawn not affecting him in the slightest, and you had the urge to tell him to sink his teeth into your flesh, before aggressively pressing down the thought.

“What are you thinking about love?” He asks, raising his mountainous eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume I was thinking at all.” You smirked, running your hands on your calf, feeling the chaffed skin of when friction had done it’s work with the wall you had crashed into. He looked at the rash and the irritated skin, before softly touching it.

You gave a soft gasp, your mind blanking at his touch.

The sounds of scream echoed in the hallway, pristine white walls splattering with blood as you took a tentative step, almost slipping on the blood. You braced yourself on the wall to stop you from tripping.

“Angel?” His voice sounded distant, almost underwater as you struggled to bring your head above water, memories of your time before you fell flashing before you in a dizzy spell.

“I’m good.” You retrieved your leg, rocking back and forth.

“You’re a bane! Interacting with such a foul creature, you should be ashamed of yourself!”

“But sir-”

“-don’t. Stop talking. Right now.”

“Sweetheart, you’re spiraling again.”

Anger built in your gut, coiling around like a wildfire before you pushed him off you. Your sudden outburst shocked him, his eyes glowing with fury for a moment, before they calmed down.

Slowly reaching his hands towards You, he took your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb on your knuckles. You squeezed your eyes shut, flashes of Zachariah and Anael and other siblings of yours crowding around You. Their sinister grins as they stole your grace, throwing you out like a shooting star waiting to explode.

That night was the worst night of your life. When you used to be a celestial being, you were now stuck in a mortal’s body, weak and vulnerable.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the silver blade being thrown at you, barely dodging the sharp object with a yelp. Your heart would be racing was your vessel alive, breath coming out in short pants. Shakily looking at the source of the weapon, you came face to face with a hunter.

“Shit! She’s not a vamp! Are you sure your sources were right?” One of the men said, looking behind wearily at another tall, lanky man.

You heard Tom growl behind you, placing your hand on his chest to stop him, his fangs already appearing.

“It’s the guy behind her, not her.” The other man said.

“Stop!” You shouted, making them stop at their tracks, “He’s harmless, I swear! We don’t hurt anyone, he even stopped drinking human blood!”

“Sweetheart he’s not human. One day he will lose his control and he will kill someone. It’s in his blood. He’s a monster.” The shorter man snarled, angrily shoving you and grabbing Tom’s neck, the stake in his hand nearly piercing his neck.

“No! Stop! Stop it!” Your cries were in vain as he just shoved you, but you were determined. You gave a swift punch to his head, the little grace left in your helping you. The punch aggravated the other hunter to lunge at you, and everything went down to shit after that.

You had lost control before, but then you had been a celestial being, now you were a mere mortal with some supernatural powers that were beyond your self control, so it wasn’t really your fault. They had aggravated you. With a growl, you shoved the hunter pinning down Tom, holding him by the back of his collar and chucking to the other side, the surprise was evident on his friend’s face as he leaped into action.

“Hun, please stop before you hurt them even more.” He whispered in your ear. You breathed heavily, your hand stretched out in front of you, palm open.

“But they hurt you! They didn’t even listen to me!” You growled, an anxious pang making you question your choices and impulse control.

The first man fell with a thud, a sickening crack echoing your mind as he collided with the wall, the second man racing to stab you with the angel blade in his hand. Tom saw the commotion and stepped into action, holding you back from hurting the other man. It was when you were standing on top of the man, blood oozing out of his wound where your hand was hovering, that the severity of the situation hit you like a freight train, the wind knocking out of your lungs.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you registered the sharp pain hit your abdomen, looking down at the grinning hunter as he removed his hands from the blade plunged at your stomach, just as he passed out.

With a strangled cry, you look at the knife inside your body, blood dripping from the seams of the injury. Before you could help it though, you were stupid enough to remove the knife, giving a shrill cry as it let the blood flow out even faster. You were getting dizzy with every drop of blood lost, the world spinning with a sickening lurch, before black spots appeared in your vision.

“Oh god uh, dammit! Y/N, angel, stay with me please, keep your eyes open!” You heard Tom say. You tried to talk, but your throat clogged up with blood, choking on the metallic taste, almost gagging.

“You’re gonna be okay sweetheart, just hold on okay?” He was looking around for something to staunch bleeding and placed his hand on your abdomen. It took everything in him to not suck the blood, and then it clicked. His blood. Apparently it was obvious as to what he was thinking because your eyes widened as you held his cheek, shaking your head frantically.

“Tom- I- don’t do it please don’t.” You sobbed, coughing some blood.

“You know I have to! You will die!”

“Then let me die! I’m sick of this, sick of living like a bane. I don’t want this life anymore.” It was clearly the blood loss talking, but deep inside, you knew your words were true.

“You can’t say that! I will have no one to live for.” His voice edged at a whisper, a stray tear falling on his cold skin.

Your vision was nearly obscured by the darkness, and next thing you knew, the world was dark again.

_____________________________

You woke up with a start, wondering if you had resided in Asphodel or was this just a fever dream. Breathing heavily, you felt a strange sensation, the world glowing in a familiar technicolor hue. What had happened? Had God restored your Grace, were you once again an angel?

A drop of water on the bedside lamp caught your eye, your vision much sharper than your mortal body. You tried to remember what happened, because the last thing you remember was a pair of hunters stabbing you and Tom hovering over you.

Tom.

Your chest heaved with a sudden realisation as you scrambled for the sheets draped over you, the urge to cry in frustration too strong to ignore. A multitude of emotions crossed your mind as you looked around the empty room, your senses overloaded due to the extraterrestrial input.

"You're awake." A voice you knew said. Gritting your teeth, you looked at him. He looked tired, bags present under his eyes and the grime lines more prominent.

"You did it didn't you?" You asked. You didn't know what to feel. All your life you had been taught to hate Vampires, and then you were falling in love with one. Not only that, but now he has converted you into his kind.

"You know I had to, you were dying!" He argued, throwing his hands in the air to show his frustration.

You felt guilty for feeling disgust, hatred. But what surprised you was that you were not angry at him, but yourself, God and those two hunters that chose a Day like this to come hunt him.

"Yeah well dying is better than becoming this!" Your words came out on their own accord, the guilt surfacing on your face when you saw the hurt look on his face. "I- I didn't mean it like that baby, you know I love you right?"

"Yeah, okay." He said, clenching his jaw, a tick that usually corresponded to anger.

"Can we just… Can you just hold me please?" You said, shifting on the bed. You saw him fighting a smile but he ended up complying, sitting on the vacated area.

"I had no choice. I love you too much to let go." His voice was low, solemn and calm. It sends chills up your spine.

His voice always did that to you, but you weren't too sure how you were gonna work now that you were … completely dead.

Instead of putting much thought into it, you held his head with one hand, bringing him close to your face and kissed him.

Even after so many years of being dead, his lips were soft as ever, pushing against yours in a way that left you trembling for more. Taking his head in your hands, you let your fingers rub tiny circles on his neck as you straddled him, rubbing your hips against his in slow motion.

Your kiss was gaining momentum, and before you knew it, you were both a panting mess, hair messy and clothes askew.

"I love you too by the way." You chuckled, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear getting up a bit before sitting on his hips, each of your legs on either side of his waist. You played with the hair on the nape of his neck, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, tugging at it to get him to remove it.

His fingers roamed around your body, moving from your thigh to your waist, coming to a stop at your bra. He was fiddling with the strap and unhooking it, caressing the skin under your breasts.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grumbled against your neck, his teeth leaving indents against your sensitive skin. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of his fangs sinking in, a few droplets of blood oozing out but quickly closing in.

“You know, we have to address the elephant in the room eventually.” You gritted your teeth, whimpering when you felt his hands massage your breasts, fingering the nipple as he slowly, sinfully so, trailed his kisses down there, reaching the underside of them to leave small kitten-like kisses.

Pushing him against the headboard, you removed his clothes with a fervor that surprised you too, the sudden change in the intensity of your movements bringing you closer to a high that you would have never felt when you were an angel.

“Well right now I just want to fuck you.” he said, sliding his hands into your panties and fingering your clit, making you throw your head back and hiss as his long fingers worked their magic.

“I knew you wanted me alive for only that.” You smirked, ended eyes glinting in the shallow light.

***

“What are we gonna do now?” He asks as you shift your position so that you were facing him, caressing his face. He sighed under the soft touch, taking your hand in his and giving it a small kiss.

You looked at his shirtless form, chest glistening under the moonlight, the shadows enhancing his muscular stature. A grin tugged on your face as you snuggled closer to him, burying your face into his collarbones and kissing his chest.

He giggled as you did so, bringing his arms to wrap them around You, kissing your forehead as you continued to pepper kisses along his chest and neck, finally finding his lips.

Whereas your previous kiss was hungry and passionate, this one was softer and so full of love. Curling your hand around his neck, you played with his curls until you had to move away to take a breath, only to realise that you didn't need to breathe.

"We'll figure it out." You smiled.

Tagging some frens: @selfcarecap @hollandsmushroom @hollandsvogue @parkerpeter24 @worldoftom @vendettaparker @spidey-sophie @blissfulparker @strkey @tomdiddlyumptious @duskholland @t-lostinworlds @tomhollandd @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @harryhollandsgirlfriend @arvinrussellsgirlfriend @spidernerdsblog @annathesillyfriend @justapurrcat (hope y'all don't mind sjdhfkdsj)

#tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #vampire!tom holland #angel!reader #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland fluff #spideygirl writes

[plus-size-reader]

The Dark

Nick Clark x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Struggling to adjust to the sheer normalcy of life on Broke Jaw Ranch after being on the road.

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The adjustment to the Ranch was proving to be far harder for you than you would have expected.

It was a perfectly nice place and there was no reason that it shouldn’t have been the greatest thing that had happened to you since the fall of the world.

Other than the fact that everything about it just seemed off.

You had been looking over your shoulder for so long, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, that being in a house again just made you feel like a caged animal.

It was strange how things like that could change in an instant. How something you had once done every day without thought, that made you feel so comfortable, now was nearly enough to make you crawl out of your skin.

It felt wrong.

No matter what you did, you just couldn’t seem to come to terms with the way it felt. You were uncomfortable, finding yourself more and more uneasy as the days went by, instead of settling in like the others.

This was just the way the world was now and you had to get used to that. The trouble was that you just couldn’t be sure if this was the new normal or not.

You couldn’t trust that this was what it was and that it wasn’t going to change at a moment's notice.

After all, this used to be the norm and just as quickly as it had gone away, it was back. It was only natural that you struggled a bit in the interim.

For example, you had just finished your first real shower in years, during which you had scrubbed what felt like a lifetime of dirt and grime from your flesh. It felt raw once you’d finished, but that wasn’t the strangest part.

The strangest part by far was the coconut shampoo you found already waiting for you in the cabin you’d been given, fully stocked with anything you or the Clarks could have ever needed.

It was insane to smell like a tropical oasis after so much time.

It was wrong.

To even think about it was too much for you to comprehend and in some ways, it may have even scared you. It was too normal and too mundane for you to be able to relax, even though every fiber of your being was begging you to.

After all, you were physically and mentally exhausted. It was just that the idea of getting too comfortable here constantly plagued your mind, and that paranoia of no longer being prepared for the outside world was daunting.

Paralyzing.

Still, you did your very best to avoid letting anyone in your group know just how much you were struggling with this.

There was nothing they could do to help, and even if they could, it wasn’t as if you were alone in your distrust. Everyone here was feeling the familiar strangling sensation of normalcy, threatening to choke the life out of you all if you let it.

So, you kept up a brave face and didn’t say anything.

For the most part, it worked well. You did everything you could to keep your mind off of the strange nature of it all, cleaning and recleaning your handgun and keeping a constant eye out for any signs of compromise in the fence.

Anything to keep your wits about you.

Though, no matter what you did, everything seemed to change when the sun went down.

All of that paranoia and fear got worse when you couldn’t rely on the daylight to keep your composure. Even something as simple as a stray beam of light across the wall made you panic, with everything registering as a threat.

It was as if you couldn’t turn those reflexes off, regardless of how hard you tried.

What you didn’t realize was that you weren’t alone in your anxiety and there was another in your group, staring out into the darkness, unable to even consider sleep.

Across the room, right now, Nick was staring up at the same shadows dancing along the ceiling as you were, considering each one carefully.

As if there was some secret held within them that he couldn’t quite make out.

This went on for a while longer before eventually, Nick decided that he’d had enough of trying to sleep in the bunk he’d been given and made his way, as quietly as he could, outside.

Anything would have been better than trying to sleep, knowing he couldn’t have been farther from getting any rest.

At least outside, he could see any threats coming, instead of just waiting for them to catch him when he turned his back.

Nick was quiet.

All things considered, you were sure that no one else knew that he was even awake, but between the creaking of the door on its hinges and the fact he walked heavily on his feet, you couldn’t have hoped to miss it.

Not when you’d been awake for hours.

So, you did the only thing you could think to do. You got up as quietly as you could, your bare feet padding on the wood floors in a cadence all their own.

Past where Madison and Alicia were fast asleep in their own beds until finally, you found yourself on the front porch.

In the short time, it had taken you to catch up to him, Nick was already standing on the porch, a lit cigarette held between his lips as he stared out into the desert beyond the walls.

Obviously, you two were having the same problem.

“Can’t sleep?” you called, only briefly contemplating going back inside to suffer alone before deciding against that. For all you knew, Nick was coming out here to have some alone time and you were just going to be a bother.

…but, considering the very thought of going back in there now filled that pit in your stomach with dread, so you continued on your way, only stopping when you reached the banister.

You figured being with him would be better than being alone, even in the unlikely event he didn’t feel like talking.

“Nope. What about you? You doing okay?” Nick hummed, casually looking over your face, lit up only by the light of the moon, searching for any signs of distress or upset.

It seemed obvious to him that you wouldn't have come out here if you didn’t need or want something, but it also wasn’t like you to just show up out of the blue either, not without a reason.

Not in the middle of the night.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just not sure about this yet” you shrugged, doing your very best to keep calm. It freaked you out, and you couldn’t help but be upset. Though, you knew you didn’t need to try too hard to put it into words.

You never did with Nick.

No matter what you were feeling, he always understood where you were coming from.

There was silence for a few more moments, as you sat down on the porch steps. The wood was a bit cool when compared to the warmth of your blankets, but it didn’t bother you. Even after the scorching sun had faded away, some of its warmth remained.

“Yeah, I know the feeling” the male agreed, sitting down beside you with a small huff, exhaling the breath of his cigarette into the air around you.

On anyone else, it may have been unwelcome but after all this time, it was a scent you had grown to associate with Nick.

At times like this, you weren’t above admitting that it made you feel a bit safer than you would have without it, like a security blanket.

“What about you? What’s on your mind? You wouldn’t be up if something wasn’t bothering you” you asked, speaking softly to keep from waking anyone else up.

You recognized that look on his face.

It was the look that you’d all worn at one point or another during all of this and even in the dim moonlight, it was clear as day. You couldn’t have missed it even if you tried, because that was what this living nightmare did to people.

It was unavoidable, even for someone like Nick.

“Just like you said, couldn’t sleep, plus I needed a smoke��� he shrugged again, not really ready to get into the whole existential crisis thing with you in the middle of the night.

Not that you were ready to just blindly accept that either.

The truth was, it was clear that Nick wasn’t telling you everything, which was odd for him.

The two of you had never really had trouble communicating with one another. If anything, you had a sort of silent understanding that you were on the same page, and you had never needed anything more than that.

…but tonight, you needed more.

Tonight, you needed to know he was here, and that he wasn’t going anywhere. Really, all you wanted to hear was his voice, and it wouldn’t matter what he said.

As long as he was talking.

“Tell me” you prompted, hoping that by some miracle, Nick could somehow drown out the noise in your head, even if for just a moment. “Talk to me”

That was all it took.

For Nick, permission to take up space was all he needed, and as soon as he had it, you found just a bit of the solace you’d been searching for.

“It’s the dark, right? It makes it all worse, feels like the ground could fall out from under you at any second,” he decided, more smoke billowing from between his lips and dissipating somewhere above you both.

You could only nod in reply, not even attempting to come up with some kind of response. That was it.

You already felt out of place here, like a fish out of water, but in the dark, you felt powerless.

“Like you’re all alone in the world, and everything is out to get you the moment you close your eyes” you allowed, recalling the way it made you feel, each and every night the sun fell from the sky.

For people like you and Nick, it had always been there, but now the rest of the world was feeling it too.

It really was over, and it was hard not to feel hopeless about it.

Normally, Nick didn’t know how to put the feelings into words, and he certainly didn’t want you to think he was too weak to handle what his mother seemed to consider a blessing. It was bad enough that she thought he was a burden, he couldn’t take it from you too.

…but, you got it. You had always seen him, for who he was, even when he didn’t know who that was.

This was a good thing.

This place, it was good for you to be here.

Realistically, he knew that, just as you did. Coming to terms with the benefit of living here wasn’t the hard part, it was actually doing it every day.

It was being able to do it without going out of your head.

“So, what are we supposed to do about it?” His words came all at once, a bit rough and just as pointed as always, though they died off softer than they normally would have on his lips.

There had to be something you could do, something that you both could do to make this whole thing a little easier.

Right?

Eventually, you were bound to get used to this and you were sure you would, but in the meantime, you still needed to sleep.

Navigating this world, dead on your feet, would only make everything worse.

“I don’t know. I guess we live…as hard as it is” you decided, taking the cigarette as he offered it now, letting the smoke warm you from the inside out.

It was weak, a bandage at best, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if it was a lie or was far-fetched; it was the best you could do and it would have to do.

For now.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be alright overnight”

There was a finality in Nick’s voice then, something that told you everything you needed to know. Even though he hadn’t actually vocalized every bit of what he was thinking, you didn’t need him to.

You were going to be okay because he thought you would.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it” you agreed, after just a moment to think about what you wanted to say. If nothing else, at least you could believe in that.

Whatever this world threw at you, you knew Nick would be there through it all.

Nick sighed, a small “yeah” leaving his lips as he took another long drag of the cigarette, too lost in thought to give you much more than that. You didn’t mind, letting your head rest on his shoulder, his rhythmic breaths calming you.

In and out, over and over again…never stopping.

Neither of you moved from that place for a while, only shifting when the temperature started dropping below the point of comfort. Both of you were dressed for sleep, not for the early morning chill.

“We should probably head back in” he whispered, bumping you with that same shoulder you’d been resting against, jostling you slightly. “Tomorrow’s another day”

You nodded but didn’t move even then, choosing to instead watch as Nick took what was left of the cig from his lips and dropped it, before standing up and heading toward the door.

It stayed where it landed, the embers burning away for a moment before fading out completely against the dirt.

“You coming?” You didn’t even realize you’d been staring at it until Nick’s voice shook you from the trance, back from where he was standing, waiting for you.

There was another beat between you, but this time, the silence wasn’t born of anything tense or unsure. Now, Nick was just waiting, watching you like the two of you had all the time in the world.

Which, at this moment, you did.

Life was already fragile, to begin with, but now, death was as common as breathing. So, there was no reason to waste a second.

No reason not to admire one another from time to time, and certainly no reason to chase sleep alone, in the dead of night.

“Will you stay with me?”

Your voice was quiet as you spoke, still cautious of the late hour and surrounding families, but it wasn’t timid by any means.

Nick knew you, and you knew him.

You weren’t a couple of school kids with a crush, not Romeo and Juliet on opposite sides of a war.  You were just two people who enjoyed one another’s company, and with the world, as it was, you didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.

Thankfully, neither did Nick.

He had never been one to ignore his base impulses, and the moment you extended the invitation, he agreed with a nod.

So, as quietly as you could, both you and Nick stepped back into the cabin. Your bunks were all relatively close together, which was nice, but they weren’t exactly made for more than one person.

Not that that was going to stop you. If anything, it meant you had to get a little creative, which was almost second nature by this point.

You grinned to yourself as you figured out the solution to your little problem and yanked the blankets from your bunk onto the floor, following them up with Nick’s own bedding.

It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind and the muffled chuckle from the man at your back told you that he didn’t either.

It was kind of perfect if you were being honest.

Nick snuggled in first, opening his arm to create a space for you at his side, which you took as carefully as you could. This would all be pretty difficult to explain if you woke up Madison right now.

“Comfy?” Nick cooed, his warm breath fanning your face due to the sheer proximity of your two bodies after you’d had a second to get settled.

“Actually, I think am” you decided, once again nuzzling into his side, the pattern of his breath lulling you into peace.

In and out, over and over again.

Never stopping.

#nick clark #ftwd #fear the walking dead #ftwd imagine #ftwd x ps reader #ftwd x plus size reader #ftwd x reader #fear the walking dead imagine #fear the walking dead x ps reader #fear the walking dead x plus size reader #fear the walking dead x reader #nick clark x reader #nick clark x ps reader #nick clark x plus size reader #nick clark imagine

[gingeraleluke]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘅𝗲𝗿 ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: underground!boxer!vinnie hacker x fem!influencer!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: a double date with vinnie and hazel! what could go wrong?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: crying/heartbreak, reader has a nightmare about diseases/sickness (brief talks about death+animal death), smutty stuff, cute puppy fluff that will make your heart flutter, therapy talks, mentions of addiction and smoking weed, reader is hungry so vinnie shares his food 🥺

𝗔/𝗡: who is ready to see flloyd, vinnie, hazel, and y/n all alone in a room together?! i know i am 😵‍💫 ps: italic and bold= vinnie’s thoughts

series masterlist

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the color of the fine print on the document handed back to her could only mean one thing.

positive.

the excess papers stiffened under her fingertips as her eyelids lowered in demeanor. the voice of her brother was nothing but a lulling drone in her ear as she felt the urge to buckle down to the floor and cry. a small, yet bright, red light flashed over the monitor— a ringing that was easily comprehend-able, even in her state.

how can this be happening?

drake wanted to reach out and comfort his little sister, but the door bursting open stopped him. y/n ignored it, breaking from her trance and flipping through the pages. faster and faster, she tore through them. some of the edges ripped from her pace but she didn’t care. y/n was in fight or flight mode. key words that catched her eye on the pages were as follows;

violent

death

viral

contagious

permanent

water-borne

fatal

a virus had infected the pacific ocean and was all over the news. it started off killing mammals. small otters and seals before it moved on to whales and sharks. the oceans were left completely empty. the world was bound to come to an end sometime soon. all boats and human life evacuated from the water; including antarctica after reasearchers discovered that it could travel through ice variants. nothing about it made sense. almost 40% of the earths population has died and everything had gone to shit. y/n didn’t want to die. she had so many things she wanted to do in life that she hadn’t gotten to do yet. she wanted to fall in love and get married and raise a bunch of puppies. she wanted to travel the world with screaming fans that followed her everywhere she went. she wanted to watch her brother become clean and a boxing championship with a wife and everything. she wasn’t ready for some hellbent disease to take her out. a crowd of people in bright yellow hazmat suits entered the doctors room. y/n looked over to her brother in fear.

what is this, the walking dead?

“drake?” he backed away from her, sarrow on his face. “drake! please-“

“no, y/n! get away from me, you’re contagious.”

“no, please!” her chest rose as her heartbeat began to speed up. “drake!”

“take her.” he turned around and opened the door.

“DRAKE!” he left. just like that.“please, PLEASE! I don’t know how this is happening to me, but please, make it stop!”

“we have to put her down before she infects anyone else.” a lady with a russian accent spoken. she stood at the entrance of the door with a clipboard in her hand and a mask covering her mouth. “NO!” y/n writhed as men in rubber gloves grabbed on her body. their marks on her skin fueling the fire she felt. “she’s not going to cooperate, miss!” y/n could hear them through her screams in protest. “well, we’ll have to just sedate her here…” y/n felt a sharp pain in her neck as she collapsed to the floor.

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“NO!”

y/n shot up from the bed, sweat dripping down her forehead and sticking to the back of her shirt. she screwed her eyes shut and began to flail her legs around, not knowing what was going on. “hey!” flloyd ran into the room, grabbing her arm before she smacked him away. “NO!”

“y/n! Y/N!” she locked eyes with him before a analyzing his face.

it’s just flloyd.

i’m okay.

y/n started to cry, confusing flloyd furthermore and mumbling words. “where is drake?!”

“what?” he asked. “drake! i need drake! please, drake!” nothing in her thoughts we’re making any sense and all she could do was repeat her brothers name. she yearned to see him. “okay! okay..” flloyd pulled out his phone while tracing patterns on her arm. he quickly pulled up drakes contact and placed his cell up to his ear. “hey, your sister is freaking out. she needs you, hold on. here she is.” flloyd knew y/n had been having nightmares the past week, but this was different. he had never seen her so jumpy like this. “drake?” her nose was runny and her eyes were swollen with tears.

“hey, it’s me.”

“i had a nightmare again….”

“it’s okay.”

“where are you?” she trembled as flloyd watched her speak.

“i’m at the gym, just like always. everything is okay, you’re okay.”

“are you okay?”

“yes, sis. im okay.”

“you promise?” her lips turned downwards as she took deep breaths. flloyd was overwhelmed by the sight but tried to hide it from her. he didn’t want to worry her any further. “yes. i promise.” “can i..” her breath hitched and she felt her voice break at the thought of what she was going to say. “can i come see you?”

“of course.”

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despite the fact that y/n was constantly surrounded by people, she always felt somewhat alone— like a piece of her was missing. she wanted someone who would be with her all the time. who would be as dependent on her as she was on them. she wanted someone to feed and love and watch them grow. she wanted a dog. y/n had wanted her own puppy since she was a young girl, but her father never wanted one. he insisted that they weren’t responsible enough. when he passed, y/n was too scared to ask drake for one. drake wasn’t necessarily a pet person. drake was diagnosed with ocd and the idea of a dog shedding and touching everything freaked him out. so whenever y/n had that strong urge to hug a puppy to make her feel better, she would always visit simon at zach and quinn’s house.

she called zach and asked if it was alright for her to take their dog for a ride, which they happily obliged. she wiped her tears from flloyd’s lap and slipped on a pain of ripped skinny jeans. y/n threw on a grey sweatshirt with the words california west coast on it and laced up her black combat boots. she figured she’d pick up simon and grab coffee before going to the gym to see drake. she didn’t want to be a complete mess when she got there. while her black range rover was stopped at a red light, y/n put her hair up in a bun, annoyed at the strands that were blowing in her face from the widow she had cracked open. all y/n wanted to do was snuggle simon and give drake a hug.

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𝟭𝟬:𝟬𝟴 𝗔𝗠

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘆/𝗻!

@ Y/N

honestly, if dogs didnt exist, i don’t think that id want to be here anymore. life without dogs would SUCK

💬304 🔁203 ❤️2.8K

replies

@ userone: no because same

@ usertwo: bestie where are you post something 🙄

@ userthree:i love my dog

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“simon! auntie y/n is here!” zach called out from the bedroom as simons paws hitting the floor drowned him out. the black french bulldog wagged his tail and shook at the sight of y/n. “hey buddy!” she leaned down, petting him. his tongue hung out from the side of his face as he looked up at her. small pants left his mouth and quinn walked up to greet y/n. “hey.” she looked up at quinn while continuing to pet the dog. “hey.” quinn responded, handing her simon’s black studded leash. “i’ll take good care of him, i promise.”

the two heard zach shout a ‘you better!’ before giggling at his response. “i will!” she turned her neck to the side to look over the edge of the wall at zach who was seated on the couch. “maybe i’ll even get you a pup cup. yeah! would you like that?!” simon let out a small bark before pawing his hand desperately and twirling around in circles, his big black ears flopping everywhere. “i think he would like that.” quinn laughed. y/n said her goodbyes after attaching the leash to his collar and walking him back to her car. “here, sit!” simon settled down in the seat as y/n walked over to the drivers seat. “you better not mess up the leather…”

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after picking up a coffee and a donut, y/n and simon were seated in the car, looking through the glass doors of the gym ahead. simon licked the pup cup residue off of his face as y/n worried about how her conversation with drake might go. she hadn’t realized the situation they were in when she called him. she forgot about the fight they had and how they hadn’t seen eachother in days. but after that nightmare, she felt like she needed her big brother. “hey, si,” she fondled the dogs ear and scratched the part she knew he liked. “uncle drake isn’t much of a dog person, so you gotta stay here. i know, i know. i’m gonna crack the window and leave the radio on, okay?i’ll be back in three minutes, i promise!”

her boots stepped up to the entrance as simon watched, his tongue hanging out, from the window. when she reached the floor she knew drake was on, she could hear josh’s voice and the sound of velcro ripping. drake was about to get ready for a warm up and was looking at something on his phone when his sister called his name. “drake?” the boy glanced up at her, taking in her appearance. everything about her seemed as usual until he saw the tears that began to water her eyes, threatening to spill. he wore a black hoodie and gym shorts and his posture was weak.

he sent her a solemn half-smile as she quickly raced into his arms. he picked his sister up and held her for a few minutes as she began crying into his blonde hair. “are you okay?” her voice was muffled. “of course i’m okay.” his arms were still wrapped around her, keeping her feet from reaching the ground. “am i okay?” she asked. “yeah.” he nodded into her hair, his body starting to sway as he held her. “are you sure?”

“yes, sis. i’m sure.” he clutched the back of her head with his hand as she took deep breaths into his neck. their were only two other people in the room, both of them uninterested in the vulnerable moment between the two. “i could never hate you, you know… do you hate me?” drake finally placed y/n’s feet back on the ground and backed away to look at her before he spoke. he just shook his head as her mouth stayed agape. “you’re my sister, y/n. we fight sometimes. it’s okay.” his words were comforting bricks that built her back up. “i hadn’t had dreams this vivid before since freddie went all psycho..“

“i know…” he pulled her close and rubbed her back. it was moments like these, that y/n loved her brother the most. when his dna wasn’t laced with anything; no  hallucinogenics or paraphernalia in his veins. no alcohol, no drugs, just… drake. perfectly sober drake. “do you know why? ha-has anything been stressing you out recently?”

“no, i- well, i mean, you stress me out… and dickhead roman…” y/n remarked.

“i’m sorry..” y/n wanted to tell him about her and flloyd but she just was too scared to ruin the mood.

oh, by the way, i’m sleeping with your best friend and he bought me a diamond necklace last night!

“do you think you want to contact dr. rose again?” y/n’s blood ran cold at his words. she immediately stiffened and backed away from his grasp. “no.” she shook her head, “no, no. i’m fine, i don’t need her-“

“but y/n,”

“i’m fine drake, i don’t need therapy anymore-“

“well, everyone needs therapy!”

yeah, everyone except you, mr. ihavemissedthepastsixappointmentswithmytherapist!

he didn’t know that she knew that, so she kept her mouth shut. “and plus, she was super nice to you when you last saw her!”

“i was a kid then..”

“so? y/n if you need help-“ he placed a hand on her shoulder, before she slapped it away. “i don’t need any fucking help, okay? i’m perfectly fine.” y/n spat back, looking down at the floor. “okay…fine! but if i hear about any more nightmares or anything, i’ll call her.” he warned his sister and gave her a quick goodbye hug.

yeah, whatever.

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it had been a while since y/n played around with her makeup. she used to film makeup looks and review products all the time, but recently she’s been so busy that she just hasn’t had the chance to really sit down and beat her face. tonight was going to be different, though. even though it was just a movie night, y/n still felt the urge to look extra nice. maybe it was because of how intimidating hazel was or maybe it was the fact that she’d probably be closer to vinnie than normal. usually when she saw vinnie, it would be from across the room. there would be other people there for him to talk to and focus on… but now, they’d be sitting on the same couch, in the same room, doing god knows what.

she was nervous. and after tripping and falling onto him at the gym that one time, she was determined not to make a fool of herself tonight.

and i want to look nice for flloyd too! of course..

after applying her foundation and setting it, she packed on the shimmery powder from her contour kit to highlight her cheekbones. she applied some bronzer before coating her lashes in mascara and rummaging around her bag for a lipstick. most of her makeup was at her and drakes place, so she didn’t have much to work with. she wasn’t sure what to wear. i mean, what are you supposed to wear to movie night at someone’s house when you’ve never hung out with them before? so, she just stayed in her jeans and sweatshirt and hoped for the best.

a sparkly peach blush compact had caught her eye instead, making her impulsively apply some to her cheeks before getting back on track and looking for lipstick. she grabbed her charlotte tillbury lipstick in the shade ‘pillow talk’ and rubbed some onto her lips. she looked ethereal. her skin was clear and glowing and her lips were plump and soft. satisfied, she smiled at herself.

“are we leaving?” flloyd called out. he wore a plain black tee shirt and some shorts as he sat down, waiting for his girlfriend to finish getting ready. he wasn’t quiet sure why she was doing her makeup in the first place. “yep!” she quickly fixed her messy bun and grabbed her phone. once she reached flloyd’s car, she watched as he typed in hazel’s address into his gps.

“dolled up huh? you look nice…”

“thanks.”

“this is gonna be a long night…” he sighed, gripping the steering wheel.

sure is.

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“it’s based off of a harry styles fanfiction?!”

“yes, okay! let’s go get this over with..”

the two exited the car and approached the door when her phone dinged.

hazel

hey, we are outback but the key is under the mat so you guys can just let yourselves in

that’s not very safe of her..

flloyd looked over at y/n after reading the message from over her shoulder and the two just shrugged before grabbing the key and opening the entrance. the inside was almost blinding. windows instituted throughout the house and white decor everywhere. it was the kind of house that stressed her out just by looking at it. like she’s too afraid to touch anything. she looked over to see flloyd looking back at her with the same gobsmacked expression. the house was almost completely silent, except for the music playing quietly on a stereo somewhere. her black boots hit the wooden floors, making her stay in place. “should we take our shoes off?” she spoke quietly.

“what?” a strand of hair was still in front of his eyelashes, like it was stuck, and his voice was quite louder than hers, making the girl giggle quietly. she moved the strand of hair out from his face, catching his attention. “our shoes. i said, should we take them off?” y/n didn’t want to be rude. she remembered the time she had her first sleepover at her friends house when she was only eight. she walked up the stairs and into the girls bedroom with her old light up sketchers. her friends father freaked out and acted as if she had lit their puppy on fire or something. she never wanted to do that again. from now on, she takes her shoes off as a precaution.

poor girl, you couldn’t blame her! growing up with her dad and drake— there was never a time when the floors weren’t dusty from shoe marks or wet from getting out of the tub without drying off. she’s not sure what age drakes ocd started developing, but once it did it just got worst. now she had to make sure not to ever, ever, wear shoes when entering his room. he wouldn’t let you in his room, barefoot either! socks or else, for drake havok, no negotiation.

flloyd shrugged and watched her slide off her boots before he did the same with his white converse. they continued throughout the house, feeling weird about just entering without being ushered in— but, hazel insisted. if there was one thing that was evident about the house, it was that it had been drenched in narcissism.

it started small with just framed portraits of hazel that were sprinkled here and there throughout the hallway. it was strange how almost none of the photographs had anyone else in them, just her. some pictures y/n was sure she had seen on the girls instagram before.

who the hell prints out selfies from instagram and frames them?

then it got worse. as the two walked by the kitchen and entered the living room, they were met with a huge—no— gigantic painting of none other than hazel. it was a pop art styled piece with an artists signature at the bottom. while some of hazel’s tattoos were shown, she noted that a few were missing, meaning the painting must have been done before she got some of them. flloyd couldn’t contain his laughter as y/n tried to keep a professional face and shoved him in the arm. “shh! we don’t know, she could be watching us with some high tech cameras… lord knows she has the money for it.” the large grey couch held multiple fuzzy pillows and a small round table. feeling nosy, y/n kept a slight distance while checking out the contents of the table. the furniture was glass, making it easy to see the small grey throw rug that it was placed on top of. there was a vase with a fake-looking, yet, real flower and a box of chocolates beside it. the box was opened, leaving only three left. flloyd grabbed a chocolate square and popped it into his mouth before y/n could protest.

“flloyd!” she whisper-shouted, smacking him on the arm. he jumped, careful not to let the treat fall from his mouth. “what?” he muttered with his mouth full, “i’m hungry.”

me too.

it was 6:20pm and the two decided to skip dinner just incase hazel and vinnie had plans. she was already regretting it as she felt her tummy start to rumble. the sunset shone off of something on the table, catching her eye. it was a slate grey rolling tray with small bits of weed residue and a black grinder on it. while she didn’t know that hazel smoked weed, she definitely wasn’t surprised. suddenly, faint splashing noises and a laugh that sounded like hazel’s, emerged from ahead. she peered up to see a glass slider that led to a deck with a hot tub on it. y/n felt sick at the sight, wishing she never walked up to the slider.

hazel sat on the seat in the hot tub with her arms wrapped around vinnie’s neck. her boobs, concealed in a leopard print bikini, were pressed up against him. he was basically resting his head on her chest as he blew smoke into her mouth. an arm draped outside of the tub, holding a blunt between his fingers. he took another drag before leaning back as hazel began to straddle him, leaving hickeys down his neck and sucking right above where his right nipple was.

what in the actual fuck.

why did i come?

flloyd knocked on the slider, seeming unfazed about how explicit the two were being. vinnie jumped up, putting out the blunt on the side of the hot tub. “hey….guys! welcome!” hazel smiled, raising her hands in the air. flloyd took in her body, looking at every tattoo she had that was on display. seeing the couple together made y/n realize just how similar they looked. both of them with messy wet hair and covered in chains and tattoos. maybe they were perfect for each other.

but maybe they weren’t.

“sorry guys! we got a little carried away.” everyone stood there awkwardly, before vinnie spoke up. “shit, sorry man. did you want some?” he motioned to the blunt he had. “i would have loved some, but it’s alright.”

y/n furrowed her eyes and looked up at him.

what? you don’t smoke, flloyd. the fuck are you talking about?

god, he is such a poser sometimes.

vinnie just nodded as hazel stepped out from the tub. “alright, let me just get decent for you guys and then we can watch the movie.”

“okay…” feeling generous and holding onto the slim hope that maybe her and hazel could form a friendship, y/n offered to help with snacks.

“do you need me to help with popcorn?”

“oh, no. thanks, i’ve got it.”

“oh, well… it’s really no problem.”

“i’ll do it, i don’t want you to mess it up!” she laughed.

mess it up?

excuse me?

does she think i’m too incompetent to put popcorn in a microwave?

vinnie followed after her to her bedroom as the two stood on the deck. she couldn’t help but notice the red marks left on him. something about knowing that it was hazel who gave them to him, pissed her off, and flloyd noticed. sitting on the couch, their gaze lifted to vinnie who sat on the far right side. while flloyd sat on the other side of y/n, that left her in the middle…. which was just awkward. vinnie quickly ran to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. “ugh, i gotta pee, i’ll be right back.” flloyd skipped to the bathroom, knowing where it was from earlier when they were snooping. vinnie entered as flloyd leaved, holding two water bottles in his hands.

great, leave me alone with vinnie.

“nice lipstick.”

she was shocked at vinnie’s words as the two of them stayed seated on the couch, only two feet apart. he saw the seas of curiosity that misted her eyes and smirked. unaware of his intentions, y/n thanked him.

“you’re welcome. it’s pretty.” he handed her a water bottle and watched her take a sip from it, before finishing his sentence. “but i’m sure it would look prettier smudged.” she felt her throat close up at his words and thrusted her head forwards, trying her best not to choke. vinnie laughed at how flustered she was. “i hate you, hacker.”

“you think i want to be here with you? trust me, y/n, i hate you more.” his voice was husky and his jaw was clenched, small water droplets still framing his face. as if on cue, flloyd entered the room.

“hey.” vinnie nodded his head. he had changed into a new pair of black gym shorts, ones y/n had seen him in many times before, and a black tank top.

“hi, man. what’s up?” vinnie repeated, after a long moment of silence. when no one had answered him, he decided to make sure that y/n knew that he was in no means, talking to her, and that flloyd knew that too. flloyd looked over at him, “oh, nothing.” his eyes were set back onto his phone while vinnie still looked past y/n and at her boyfriend.

why was flloyd being so rude?

“nice…nice.” his jaw clenched as he took a sip of his water bottle.

dude, i’m just trying to make small talk.

y/n played with the chipped nail polish on her thumbs as vinnie spoke again. “are you into chick flicks like hazel is, or are you and i in the same boat?”

“uh huh…” flloyd mumbled, clearly not giving a fuck about what vinnie was saying.

okay than, suck my dick.

what the actual fuck does y/n even see in him?

“yeah, nice talking to you.” vinnie muttered under his breath, standing to his feet and walking by the couch. he was about to go check on hazel when she suddenly sprinted down the hallway. y/n’s stomach dropped at vinnie’s tone of voice. she felt bad for him.

i mean, he’s only trying to start conversation.

she involuntarily sent a glare to flloyd as hazel walked around with blankets and a bucket of popcorn. “okay, here’s your blanket and here’s me and vinnie’s.” while hazel and vinnie had a huge pink fuzzy blanket, y/n was handed a grey knitted blanket with holes in it that looked like it had been through a whole world war.

the fuck is this?

she smiled though, and acted as if it was the nicest blanket in the world. her stomach growled as she watched hazel plop a piece of popcorn into her mouth and throw one into vinnies.

where’s my popcorn? :(

hazel snuggled into vinnie’s side as she pressed play on the movie. all y/n cared about was making sure that no one could hear her extremely loud stomach.

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while the two love birds on her right where chatting and flirting away, y/n couldn’t even get flloyd to talk to her. everytime she looked over at him, he was just typing away on his phone; ignoring her and the movie. y/n frowned, scooting farther from him. “okay, wait— i haven’t seen the first one, so he.. he made a bet on her?”

“mmhmm.”

“and she still wants him?”

“yep.”

who the fuc-

“i know, but come on, it’s hardin scott!” flloyd’s phone rang, causing him to ask them to hold on so he could answer. “hm? mmhmm… yeah, i’ll be right there.”

oh finally. my prince in armor has come up with an excuse to get us out of here!

“so, i gotta go.” he shoved his phone into his pocket and raced for his converse. “what?! why?”

“that was your brother, he needs something.”

“oh my gosh, is he okay?”

“yeah! yeah, he-he’s fine.”

“okay, so let me come with-“y/n reasoned. “no! if he finds out that we were together, it’ll blow our cover! i’ll be right back, alright?” vinnie saw how all of the color in y/n’s face drained at his words. he wasn’t sure what exactly she was feeling, but all he knew was she wasn’t very happy.

what a fantastic boyfriend, y/n!

sweetheart, you can do so much better.

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while they continued to watch the movie, vinnie couldn’t help but hear y/n’s stomach making noises. he could tell that she was hungry, and while he didn’t know much about her, he knew she wasn’t the kind of person to ask someone for food. so, he stood up and grabbed a bag of cheetos from the kitchen and sat down. a minute later, he exaggerated a sigh. “ugh, i don’t feel like cheetos anymore..” he acted, making an uncertain face and looking over to see y/n perched up at the words he said. “here.” he tossed the bag of cheetos onto her lap, making her eyes light up. he leaned backwards so hazel wasn’t in the way of her and smiled at her. y/n mouthed a ‘thank you’ and he mouthed a ‘you’re welcome’ back.

y/n hated vinnie hacker, but this vinnie hacker? she could deal with. y/n wished that he could be like this all the time. this was the side of him that made her want to tear herself apart from the inside.

why does he make me feel like this?

y/n ate her cheetos while watching the movie, until the first dreaded sex scene played. she watched harden kiss tessa feverishly while gripping her ass before turning her around and mounting her. hazel giggled and began tugging on vinnie’s hair suggestively as she watched.

why is she touching me, what the hell just happened-

oh. sex scene.

while hardin kissed tessa’s inner thighs, y/n felt her own thighs begin to clench.

no, okay? don’t be horny, not with them right next to you.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

flloyd had messaged y/n, letting her know that he wouldn’t be able to pick her up and that she’d have to ask them for a ride. which of course meant that she would be alone with the couple for the rest of the night. not only that, but hazel’s house was hot. way too hot for y/n’s liking, and she began to feel suffocated in her sweatshirt. her eyes looked over at hazel and took in the tank top and calvin klein underwear shorts she wore. her top had ‘for those who sin’ embroidered on it and her legs were basically naked. “god, it’s hot in here…”

“oh, yeah. hey, just take off your sweatshirt! it must be killing you.”

um… what?

“but, i only have a bra on under it..”

“so? i’m in underwear, girl! you’ll fit right in, come on!”

“umm… i think i-“ she was cut off by water seeping through her shirt and looked up to see vinnie holding his water bottle. “oops! sorry!” he smiled.

you dick.

“well now you have to take it off! come on, it’s just us!”y/n rolled her eyes and peeled off the shirt, showing her bra and bare chest for the two to see. her bra was white and lace with a small pink bow in the middle and the sight of her in it made vinnie do a double take.

fuck.

he didn’t know what he expected her bra to look like, but it definitely wasn’t that. he gulped before putting his focus back on the tv. “i’m gonna grab another water, do you want one?”

“no, i’m okay.” vinnie declined and watched her walk down the hallway. it took everything in him not to lock his eyes on y/n’s bare chest. he had to pink his kneecaps and grind his teeth to keep himself preoccupied. when hazel came back, she sat on the edge of the sofa instead of the middle. now, vinnie had a perfect view of y/n in all her glory. raking a hand through his hair, he focused his gaze on the tv.

every now and then, his sunken brown eyes would flicker down to her cleavage. the way she was sitting with her knees pressed against her and the television light shining down on her— oh, god was it pornographic. all of that skin, blank. just waiting for his devilish mouth to sink into and leave marks that not even a shower could wash off.

fuck, vinnie, stop it.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

everything was going perfectly fine until the shower scene. hazel sat on vinnie’s lap, still out of view for his gaze on y/n. he tried getting her to switch sides so he wouldn’t be tempted to look over, but she wouldn’t budge. vinnie watched as hardin pulled the girls panties down and couldn’t help but wonder if y/n’s bottoms matched her bra. he watched hardin lather the soap into tessa’s back, massaging her body up and down. flashbacks from when y/n fell on top of him flooded his thoughts. how smooth her arms felt when he gripped them as he stood up. how disheveled she looked, her hair a mess and face all bashful. testing the waters, he returned his eyes onto y/n’s body. not just taking in her tits, but her face too. the innocent look in her eyes as she watched the explicit scene had him weak in the knees.

so innocent… i want to break her.

y/n observed hardin as he made out with tessa in the shower. she found herself focusing on his tattoos and the way that the water slid down them. she couldn’t help but think back at how vinnie looked in that hot tub. the steam and bubbles he sat in and how sinful he looked with his chains and tattoos as he took another hit. she imagined how good of a kisser he’d be. how his tongue would fit underneath her’s and how rough he’d tug on her hair if it was them instead, in the shower. the moans that left tessa’s mouth and the way her body shook as hardin paid mind to every single inch of her body, had y/n clenching her thighs and feeling a second heartbeat. she wondered what vinnie would sound like moaning. how fast he would go, how hard. biting her lip, y/n looked over at vinnie, only to see him staring back at her.

fuck.

the way hazel sat on his lap, made him even more turned on. “i’m gonna grab another pillow-“ vinnie interrupted hazel by digging his hands into her waist. “wait, you might have to wait a second…” hazel got the hint and laughed mischievously, making y/n’s hands go numb. she began to grind down slowly, which resulted in him throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. the intensity of the scene made her drop her drink and y/n shifted her position, now laying down on her stomach and holding herself up on her elbows as she reached down for her water bottle. vinnie opened his eyes and looked over to see her boobs practically spilling out of her bra. he averted his vision to the tv, only to see tessa on her knees, preparing to suck hardin off.

for fucks sake, i can’t take this.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom… vinnie, babe, i need your help with something!” she felt his hard on pressed against her, and decided it was time to make a move, no matter who was in the room with them or not.“mmhmm, yep!” he jumped quickly after her.

“wait! should i pause it?”

“oh, no! i’ll just rewatch it in the morning!” hazel quipped, a hand around her neck as vinnie tugged her into in the bathroom. y/n heard vinnie let out a groan and plead an, ‘i need you so fucking badly.’ before closing the door.

great.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

y/n could practically hear it all. the grunting, the slamming, the moaning. she tried her best to focus on the movie but it was hard when the walls were shaking so bad that she could hear the floor creak. vinnie and hazel had been going at it for so long, that y/n lost track of time and eventually finished the movie. she sat their, idiotically, on her phone, scrolling through tiktok while trying to ignore the fact that vinnie was fucking the soul out of hazel just a few feet away. she grew tired and changed the channel to mtv. reruns of old music videos played as y/n began to hum along. it was now past midnight and her brain began to feel fuzzy.

♫ 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗲

shit, i have to get home still.

she then remembered that she wouldn’t be going home, but would instead being going to flloyd’s. her boyfriend. sighing, she laid her head against the pillow, feeling the soft texture against her bare stomach. she continued playing games on her phone when a very disheveled hazel and vinnie entered.

every breath you take

every move you make

“i call the couch!” vinnie yawned, seemingly out of it.“ugh, no fair! i call the…bed. fuck, i’m tired! vinnie, make sure you come back to bed and see our guest out!”

every bond you break

every step you take

i’ll be watching you

“yeah, yeah!” he mumbled, his hair a mess and flopping around everywhere. vinnie turned into a child whenever he was tired. “i’m sorry, i’m so fucking tired..” he looked up at y/n with sarrow-filled eyes. “it’s okay! it’s fine, get some rest.”

every single day

every word you say

“you mind if i just…” the boys hair hit her thigh as his face landed onto the couch, laying right next to her legs. he held an arm out that draped over y/n’s knee and off of the couch.

every game you play

every night and day

i’ll be watching you

a moment passed before vinnie clutched y/n’s thigh and pulled her closer, now resting his head onto her lap as his face softened under the light of the tv. he looked so innocent. y/n reached out to touch his hair before stopping herself.

i have a boyfriend.

but, this isn’t cheating! just… playing with hair, that’s all.

oh cant you see?

you belong to me

she found herself caressing vinnie’s cheek, taking in the small freckles that scattered his skin. she haven’t touched him or been this close to him since she fell on him. the type of energy he fed her from just a single touch, was remarkable. when vinnie was unconscious, he seemed so pure. she found herself wanting to protect the boy who laid on her lap. his pink lips were slightly parted as snores left his mouth. y/n felt special. she felt… lucky to be able to see vinnie so vulnerable. a drop of water hit her hand as she played with his curls.

how my poor heart aches

with every step you take

time went on, yet, y/n hadn’t noticed that she was crying. she couldn’t figure out why.

why would i be upset?

what ever could it be?

since you’ve gone i’ve been lost without a trace

i dream at night i can only see your face

the realization hits her like an antidepressant she had  fiend to take. shaking her head, she let the tears fall, careful not to let any land on the boy.

i look around but it’s you i can’t replace

i feel so cold and i long for your embrace

his unconscious fingers pressed against her ankle as she fought the urge to play with them. it hurt her, doing this, but it was like a car crash; you don’t want to look but you just can’t look away. the reason she was upset was the car that slammed into her in that moment.

i keep crying, baby, baby please

oh cant you see?

you belong to me

it’s because he isn’t yours.

and how my poor heart aches

with every step you take

- - - - -

“love is a disease and disease knows no laws.” - ivan turgenev

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

@justalostgirl @obliviatevamps @letsjustbeourselves @starslcve @itskoushi @stephdolan @bakerkells @vinnieslut @queenyamimarrero @mrs-woodwesleyobrien @isabelleforest73 @radioblah-blah @morganwilliams @creepytoes88 @wrldofspice @lovenoughton @soapiaa @tremendousalpacawitch @bellamyblakeswhore @sabnstyles @devilsbooksworld @lidiyabest @maurauderswhxre @plutooryectors @janesofia7 @aleksanderblack

#vinnie hacker x reader #the boxer #the boxer fic #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker fluff

[magical1wonderland]

Klaus mikaelson x teenage!daughter reader

Disclaimer: I have only watched episode one of the originals and I am obsessed with those gorgeous people, therefore I shall write. I also don't hate the character hope, I only live for the fictional angst and drama so bear with me.

Ps. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes

Tw: Death, blood, gore, killing, revenge

STRANGER (PART 2)

(Y/n's Pov)

Everything happened so fast. One moment we were dancing and laughing the next moment I was paralyzed by fear at what was happening. I stood and watched as each of my friends got killed slowly and painfully, hearing them cry out to me but not being able to do anything. The last thing I could remember before everything went black was a man twice my size staring me down and smirking. I woke up to a dull thudding in my head and ny neck feeling stiff. I called out to my friends trying to recall what had happened last night, but received no response. Opening my eyes reality dawned upon me and I realized that what had happened was not a bad dream and everything I held dear to me was taken away. Crawling over to the bodies of my friends I cried as I cradled my best friend (B/f/n). "Why would anyone do this?", was the first question I asked myself. Somewhere in the distance I heard police sirens. Before long 4 pokice officers came storming in with their guns raised. "Put your hands up and remain silent!", one of the officers demanded. The only thing that I could hear was their blood pulsating through their veins. Before I could stop myself I dried the life off of all but 1 officer. Without hesitation I compelled the final officer into letting his team know that everything was under control, that it was all a prank. I made sure to also send him to his death by compelling him to crash his car into a tree to get rid of the evidence against me.

Covered in the blood of my loved ones and victims I arrived home. As I walked through the door and pass by the kitchen I was suddenly pushed against the wall, the hand of my uncle Elijah tight against my throat. Everyone soon filled into the room and a quick glance at Hope's surprised face had the gears in my head turning. Looking Elijah dead in they eye I remained silent as he asked question after question. Quickly growing tired of all the interrogation, I flicked my wrist and sent him flying to the opposite wall hearing a crack and him falling limp on the ground. Without further adieu, I made my way to my room. Locking my door, I finally came face to face with the situation at hand. Last night someone had set out to kill me along with my friends. Somehow their plan failed dismally as I am still standing. Looking out of my window I realized darkness overshadows earth and it's time for my revenge.

I spent the next 2 hours in search of my murderer when I finally found him in some ally way suckimg away at some human girl. Pulling him of the girl I had him pinned to the wall. Turning to face the almost passed out girl I compelled her to stay and watch the show. Facing my murderer I saw the fear and confusion in his eyes. This time I was the one smirking. "Who sent you?", I all but demanded. "How... how are you alive, sh.. she said you were just a pathetic human", the guy sputtered out. Growing tired of not getting answered, I shoved my hand into his chest and squeezed. Pain littered his features and he started talking. "I promised her that what I did would die with me", he spluttered. "Pathetic, protecting someone else for the sake of your worthless life!", i spat, "Tell you what, if you tell me who it was that sent you, I will grant you eternal safety from the mikaelsons and/or any other enemy." He seemed to be in thought before he gave me and answer I already expected. "Hope Mikaelson sent me". With that a squished his heart and ripped off his head. The girl I compelled to watch let out a scream and I turned to her with a devilish smirk. "You killed him", she all but whispered, "why?".

"Why?... Why?!!", I screamed, "because I don't have time for mercy that's why, mercy makes you weak and I'll be dammed if anyone ever thinks I'm weak again" and with that I bit my wrist and forced the girl to drink my blood before snapping her neck. My family created a monster, so it's only fair I create an army.

After a few hours the girl started waking up. "What happened?", she asked. "I made you powerfull, now get up we have things to do". "I don't even know who you are, what you did to me or why this is happening to me?", she uttered sounding distressed. "I am (Y/n Mikaelson a hybrid if you will and you.... you my dear are my first soldier" "Soldier? What does that mean, what are you, what am I?", she questioned. "In time you will learn, for now you must feed. And if you question me one more time oh so help me I will kill you even though I created you!", I threatened darkly.

Quickly following my actions the girl had shut up and followed me. By the way she reacted to all the things she was now able to do I could tell she was relishing the feeling of her new powers. Making our way to a dear old friend of mine we stopped right outside the window as I picked up my phone and called the person withing the house. "Lanie?? Lanie it's me (Y/n), Hope has been hurt and we need your help right now!!", I sobbed into the phobe once I heard her answering the phone. "(Y/n)?? (Y/n) what happened? Is everything okay? Whats going on?" she questioned. "Please just please come quickly, we are at the mansion! " and with that I ended the call and waited as my sisters best friend came running to her rescue death. The moment she walked out the door I was infront of her and cast a quick sleeping spell which made her fall limp into the arms of my newly turned soldier.

We stood outside the compound as I quickly muttered a boundry spell which no one can break unless they had the blood of the person it was created with. Unfortunately for my dearest sister, that person was inside the circle with us. Waking up the sleeping form of lanie, I watched as she opened her eyes and panic quickly dawned on her. "Scream little one, beg for your life!" I suggested with a smirk knowing full well how pathetic humans were. Soon enough her screams had woken up the compound and hope was the first one running out the door at recognizing her best friends pleas. Stopping short when she couldn't cross the boundary her eyes filled with worry. "Leave her alone!!!", Hope screamed at me. I only raised an eyebrow in amusement. "(Y/n) I'm getting kind of hungry can we wrap this up? " I heard the girl say, I smirked as she's already embracing her new life. "Not yet little one, but would you be so kind as to break a leg for me" I stated with no sympathy as I smiled devilishly at my sister who was trying everything in her power to save her best friend. The commotion the screams of my sister and her best friend caused the rest of my family to run outside to find out what was going on. "Well well well if it isn't my lovely family, how nice of you to grace me with you loving presence" I commented sarcastically. I heard lanie scream at them for help before I turned aroud and slapped her so hard that I broke her nose. Another round if screaming filled the silence of the night. "(Y/n) why are you doing this? If you dont leave that poor girl alo-" "or what?" I cut of my mother. "Are you gonna beat me? Yell at me? Break a few bones? If you haven't noticed mother" I sneered. "But I have the upperhand now. No more beatings, no more telling me what I can or can't do, I am more powerful than all of you, and I dare each and everyone of you to put up a fight. It shall end with your life in my hands" I declared. "(Y/n) why are you doing this? What has Hope ever done to you? What has this family ever done to you!!" my father snapped enraged. I only chuckled sinisterly. "I am suprised you asked father, you wonder why I am doing this, but you fail to consider that this is your fault. You have created this monster before you, you have always worried that you might end up as a bad father like your father. But you ended up worse, because you created the very thing you tried to escape from." " As for Hope", you turn to look directly into your sisters eyes and see how she shrinks down in fear, she knows exactly what she has done, but what she never expected was for her plan to fail. "She knows exactly what she has done, I am simply... repaying the favor", I said smirking evilly at her. "Feast", I said as I heard everybody scream and try and fail to break the boundry as Hope sank to her knees and watched in horror as her best friend dies. After my vampire had fed I walked over to the know dead body of lanie and ripped her head from her body, throwing the decapitated head to my sister. I relished in the way she screamed of heartbreak and despair, turning to my family, I saw the look of horror and terror on each and everyone of their faces. "This means war!" I declared before we sped away. Leaving my family in fright and confusion about what had just taken place. How had a girl that they had watched growing up before them turn into such a stranger. The answer to the question was infused by the atmospheric silence and no one had the guts to answer it.

ps. I do not own any of the original characters or the storyline, I only own my story line and the new characters that I bring in. I hope you like it.

#Klaus mikaelson #Klaus mikaelson x reader #Klaus mikaelson x reader daughter #neglected #war #powerful #hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #death #angst #hate #betrayal

[mandoalorian]

Touch Starved [Frankie Morales x Reader]

Summary: You and your best friend Frankie Morales have had silent feelings for each other since the day you met. No one could’ve ever guessed the strange circumstance which occurred one fateful night, and how the proceeding events would be the push you needed to take your friendship to the next level.

Word count: 6k (what the heck this is the longest piece i’ve ever written BY FAR)

Rating: 18+ only.

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol consumption/intoxication, food/drink mention, lot of pining over each other and just some general fluff

Author’s Note: This is my first ever Frankie fic anddddd my first ever smut lol. Please be kind I hope you enjoy. PS if you want a part two let me know! xx

MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE

•••

Your eyes were heavy and you shuffled into the cushion, adjusting your position on the couch until you felt more comfortable. You grazed your fingers against the pages of your book, but found yourself re-reading the same sentence over and over again in attempt to keep yourself awake. Even your two scented candles were close to burning out, and you figured it was time for bed.

Gently dropping the book on the floor, you closed your eyes and felt yourself drift off into a dreamy sleep when a loud bang on your door woke you up with a jolt. Your heart was pounding as you bolted upright, clutching the thin wooled blanket that was lazily draped around your body in fear. Within seconds, you heard another bang on the door. Rubbing your eyes, you flicked on your phone and checked the time. 11-48pm. Almost midnight. You groaned, standing up and padding to the front door of your apartment. Who could possibly want to see you at this hour? You wondered. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, you let out an elongated groan.

“Who is it?” You called out and rubbed your tired eyes. You ran your fingers through your hair in hope that you would look somewhat presentable for when you greeted your uninvited visitor.

Without hesitation you heard him. A voice you were so familiar with. “It’s Frankie, man! You gotta let me in!” you noted that his voice sounded urged and your stomach filled with concern. Was he alright? Why was he at your apartment at 11-48pm? A million thoughts raced through your mind in just the second it took you to open the door. The thought of Frankie being here made you nervous, but excited. In a fluster, you stumbled with the door lock before finally managing to get it open.

There he was. His dark brown waves were tucked into one of his infamous baseball caps and he was wearing a dark green flannel and a washed out pair of denim jeans. You tried to search for answers in his face, but he truly seemed fine, other than the slight panic in his voice. He slid past you, allowing himself into your apartment and began pacing around.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked, almost rhetorically. Frankie didn’t answer, nor did he need to. You were already clicking open the bottle of ice cold Bud and handing it over to him. He took a big sip out of the alcoholic beverage, and you took the liberty of admiring him as he done so. He wasn’t watching you anyway, but instead focusing on downing the drink. That's what he needed. A drink to wash away his worries. How could he ever explain this to you?

You loved the way his chocolate brown eyes shone under the candlelight and the way his skin looked almost soft and golden. You waited patiently for him to finish drinking, never wanting to hurry him.

Frankie appreciated the atmosphere of your apartment too. He always had. It made a change from his current living situation. Frankie wasn’t picky as such, but living with his four best guy friends definitely had its downfalls. Whether that be Ben constantly hogging the living room television to play his Call of Duty video games, or Santiago bringing home a different lady every other night, making such noise that nobody but Will could sleep, or even Tom with his untidy behaviour and complete disregard for everyone else who lived with him. It wasn't great but what other choice did Frankie have? Other than you. You didn’t feel like a choice to him, you felt like a necessity. He needed you. You were his safe place, and your chic apartment felt more like home than his shabby downtown place.

“I gotta ask you a favour.” Frankie prompted eventually, sliding down into the cream faux-leather sofa and placing his bottle of beer on the coffee table. You took a seat in the chair opposite him and folded your arms, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, I don’t know. Never mind. Uhm… it’s a funny story to be honest. But, maybe it’s fine. It’s not fine. It’s just, well-”

“Spit it out Frankie!” You giggled jokingly, reaching over and nudging him slightly. He was immediately put at ease by just the simplest brush of your fingers, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He found himself staring into the burning flame of your cinnamon scented candle. He felt mildly ashamed about how this whole situation had even surfaced in the first place.

“Me and Santi… we had a bet. A dare kinda thing.” Frankie explained, shuffling around with discomfort. He was definitely embarrassed that he had driven himself all the way to your apartment in the dead of night just to tell you this— or rather, ask you this. “The guys were teasing, you know how they are. About how- well, you know, I’ve never really been with a girl since…” Frankie paused.

“Marià.” You sighed, and Frankie nodded slowly. “Your ex wife…”

“Yeah. And I know it’s crazy but after the divorce and everything… I just haven’t really uh, had the opportunity. I mean I’ve had the opportunity it’s just- never felt right. I suppose. And you know, it’s not that I don’t want to start dating again. Or seeing women. Sleeping with wo-” Frankie was about to start rambling about his sex life (or lack there of) and you were not prepared to let your mind journey there. Not that you had never thought about it before… no. He was your best friend. And it would be wrong. Besides, Frankie had a tendency to over share but you were always there to help him get back on track, whereas others, namely the guys, would tease and mock him for it.

“Why are you here, Frankie?” You cut him off with as much delicacy as you could muster up. Your voice was soft, and Frankie noticed how gentle you had always been with him.

“Santi said he bet I couldn’t ask a girl out if I tried,” Frankie explained with a short sigh and you frowned. You knew Santiago well and you knew that he and Frankie were like brothers, but Frankie had been through a lot lately and Santiago never really had the best choice of words. You wondered if he had hurt Frankie, and instantly felt defensive over your friend.

“And then what happened?”

“I told Santi I could get a girl, and then, this afternoon, he asked me how I had come on. I lied, told him I asked out a pretty girl. He asked me about her and well, the girl I described… I guess… in my head I was just picturing you.” Frankie said, and finally glanced up at you, his pretty eyes shimmering in the dim light. You felt your heart rate increase at his revelation. “You know? It’s funny. This made up girl looks just like you.” He chuckled lightly. Your silence was deafening and his stomach filled with anxiety. “I don’t know why!” he assured but that was a lie. He knew why. He was your first thought at the start of the day you were his last thought at the end of the day. Every moment he got, he was thinking about you— pining over you.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to process any more words. You weren’t sure what to make of it. You brushed away your feelings, thinking that you only came to Frankie’s mind because you saw him so much. You were the only girl he really hung out with.

“Of course Santi didn’t believe me. I’m a terrible liar. You know that. But I really don’t want the guys to catch me out on this! It’s so embarrassing.” Frankie was exasperated. You took to your feet and walked over to him, falling back on the sofa and resting your hand on Frankie’s forearm. To Frankie, your touch was like electricity.

“You do not need to be ashamed of something like this Frankie,” you assured him. Frankie took off his cap and ran his fingers through his brown locks.

“I know I know,” he sighed before looking back at you. “Santi wants to meet this fake girl. He’s been seeing Yovanna again and he’s organised a double date kind of thing. For him, Yo, myself and well… I'm hoping, you.”

You blinked hard. “Wait,” you paused. “You want to go on a date with me?”

This had to be dream. Had you just fallen asleep on the sofa? You pinched yourself and checked the wall clock above the television. Only a few minutes had ticked by. Definitely not a dream.

“Fake date.” Frankie corrected and you felt your heart sink slightly.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

You shuffled around, not knowing how to feel. “Uhm, Frankie… I’m not sure…” you hesitated. All you had wanted for so long was to go on a date with Frankie. A real date. You had been dreaming about the day he would ask you out since you first met him, but this wasn’t what you had pictured at all.

“Please,” Frankie begged, clasping his hands together in a pleaing manner. “Just pretend to be my date.”

And how could you ever say no to Frankie Morales’ puppy dog eyes?

The night of the date, you and Frankie had agreed to meet at the restaurant. You hadn’t really discussed anything prior, but this date, albeit fake, was all you could think about. Every chance you had, you were thinking about Frankie. You wondered how it would be, pretending to be his date. And equally, Frankie was thinking the same.

He struggled to catch any sleep, and instead would lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He wondered how to fake a date. He didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable and he simply hadn’t dated anyone in so long. He was so sure that he would embarrass himself, and that you’d never want to talk to him again.

Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were already sitting around the restaurant table before you arrived. It was a quaint little Italian place on the coast and it had the most beautiful evening view. The sky was darkening and there wasn't a cloud in sight, but instead, pearly white stars pierced the velveteen abyss above and it looked like something straight out of a romance movie. The environment was perfect. The place was slightly out of the usual burger joint budget for Frankie and Santiago, but Yovanna insisted on the high-end restaurant, and even Frankie had to admit it would be nice to eat some good quality food for a change.

You weren’t late, but rather Frankie, Santiago and Yovanna were early. Frankie had already downed three bottles of beer before you arrived, trying to wash away his nerves. By the time you came, he was already slightly intoxicated. His ease was all that mattered and besides, Frankie was a happy drunk.

When Frankie saw you enter the restaurant, it was like his whole world stopped. He always thought you were beautiful, but tonight he was looking at you in a whole different light. You weren’t in your usual sweats and hoodie, and truthfully he had never seen you like this before. Your little black dress hugged your body in all the right places, and your matching heels clicked against the marble floor as you padded over to the table. You felt a blush creep upon your cheeks when you caught Santi gawking.

“Whoa, you clean up well!” Santiago complimented, looking you up and down, grinning ecstatically.

Frankie tried to keep his cool, but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He took in your bare legs and how fine they looked in your dress, and he admired the way you had styled your hair. It was out of your face, and he appreciated that, because now he could infatuate himself over your features. You wore minimal makeup, but your eyeshadow accentuated your eye colour and your choice of lip gloss plumped your lips slightly. Frankie’s eyes went from being drawn to your legs, to now your lips, and he cursed himself for the thoughts he was thinking. Fake date. He reminded himself; but he couldn't help but question— what if it was real? If he could, he’d take you in his arms right then and there and kiss you.

You took your seat next to Yovanna and opposite Frankie, trying to remain as nonchalant as possible, but as you felt Frankie’s eyes burn into you, electricity sparked in your in your lower stomach. A certain kind of excitement. You pushed it away the best you could, focusing on reading the menu in front of you and deciding on the food you would order. Frankie pushed over a vibrant purple drink in a cocktail glass. “I got you your favourite,” Frankie smiled, and you felt your heart flutter. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You smiled and took a sip, but scrunched up your nose when the strong taste of vodka hit. “Um, sweetie,” You thought that tonight you would have to force out the pet names but it came so naturally. “How many shots are in here?”

“It’s a treble.” Frankie bit his lip, watching you with intent as you took another sip. His heart blossomed at the little name you called him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?!” you gasped playfully and Frankie offered you another warm smile. “I don’t mind. Actually, I need it. Had a bad day at work.” you explained.

“It was Santi’s idea.” he admitted and Santiago innocently raised his hands in response. Frankie reached over the table, taking your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch. “Bad day?” he furrowed his eyebrows together, concern peaking in his gentle voice.

“Talk about it later.” you promised. Frankie brought your hands to his lips and kissed them softly. You had to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. Your heart began to pick up speed again and at this point, you were finding it difficult to remember that this was all fake.

As the four of you ate your food, you and Frankie were flirting all night; playing footsie under the table and exchanging dirty jokes. At one point, you accidentally ran your heel up his leg and he let out an accidental groan, fillet mignon almost spilling out his mouth. You hurled with laughter and his cheeks rosied up in embarrassment. Both you and Frankie were enjoying yourself way more than you had ever even considered.

“Wait,” you spluttered out in a fluster of giggles. You were still laughing at one of Frankie’s jokes. “Yovanna and Santi have gone home.” You noticed, pointing your finger at the empty seats next to yourself and Frankie.

“Oh yeah,” Frankie replied. “And we didn’t even notice.” He burst into laughter again and you followed, the alcohol really letting you both lose your inhibitions. “That bastard left me with his and Yovanna’s bill too.” Frankie shook his head in disbelief.

“Let me help you pay,” you unzipped your purse but Frankie put his hand out and stopped you.

“Don’t worry baby, this is on me.” Frankie promised and offered you a cheeky wink.

Santiago and Yovanna were gone. They had no one to prove their fake date to— and yet, exchanging flirtatious comments were simply too fun to stop.

“Okay,” you laughed, taking a gulp of red wine. You were sure the warm liquid must have stained your lips crimson with how much you had drunk, but you weren’t too concerned. “But next time, I’m paying.”

“There’s going to be a next time?" Frankie asked you hopefully.

“Isn’t there?” you returned a smile. “This was the best fake date I’ve ever been on.” You and Frankie let out a boisterous laugh, even catching the attention of other couples who were sitting around you trying to enjoy their romantic candlelit dinners.

“Touché,” he agreed, taking out his wallet and signing a check before clipping it to the bill and standing up. He took your hand, pulling you forward but you stumbled to your feet, falling into his chest. He was so broad and his arms were so big. Your feelings for him picked up a notch and you were unsure how long you could keep up the charade of pretending you saw him as just a friend.

You thought about how strong he was, barely flinching when you fell into him, and honestly, it turned you on. He slung his hands around your waist, slowly pushing you off his, but even when you weren’t resting on him anymore, he kept his big hands around you as you left the restaurant and walked through the parking lot to Frankie’s truck. You were grateful because without him guiding you and steadying you, you’d probably struggle to even reach the truck.

The close proximity between you and him made Frankie overwhelmed, his palms getting clammy and his cock hardening from your scent alone. Everything felt so intense. The cool night air took his breath away and he loved the way he could feel the shape of your body through your dress. He craved more.

He hoped that in the darkness of the night, you hadn’t noticed his throbbing length under his jeans. He slid into the driver seat of the car and you sat next to him, strapping yourself in. Frankie turned the key and as you set off, you both sat there in silence. Silence around Frankie was never uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a situation you were used to. It was a big difference to the environment in the bustling restaurant, but now it was just you two, alone, in his car— and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Come home with me.” You said eventually, not moving an inch and still looking at the road ahead. You managed to find the confidence, but you weren’t yet able to bring yourself to look him in the eye. He was your best friend. And you realised that what you were asking of him was a lot.

Frankie wasn’t put off, in fact, he felt his cock twitch at your words and he had to suppress a moan from escaping his lips. Did you really want him to take you home? As if on cue, you continued your proposal.

“Stay the night.” This verified Frankie’s thoughts and you hoped he had got the hint. You looked up into the rear view mirror and watched Frankie as he concentrated on driving, his body completely tensed up. He didn’t say a word, but when he detoured, you knew he was taking you back to your apartment. You wanted to calm him. Relax him. Soothe him. You let your fingers grace his jean clad leg, accidentally brushing over his erection. Frankie cursed under his breath. “S-sorry.” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. He was already hard. You crossed your legs tight together, trying to ignore the way your cunt was already dripping for him.

“No,” Frankie said. “Was good. Felt good.” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as you contemplated his words. He liked it. You moved your hand over his crotch again and began to palm him as he drove. He felt so constricted in his jeans and he couldn’t wait to get them off. It wasn’t long before his vision began to feel hazy under your touch but luckily he soon pulled up in front of your apartment. You removed your hand from his leg and let yourself out of the truck, feeling dazed also, and hurried inside. Frankie followed, loosing his belt as he stepped foot into the building. He was throbbing and in such desperate need of relief.

You pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come. By the time Frankie caught up with you, it was here, and the pair of you stepped inside. As the doors began to close on you, Frankie crashed his lips onto yours, pushing his body against you. This time it was his turn to touch you. His rough manner made you gasp but you needed to feel his body against yours. You let his hands explore you, his fingers rolling over the curves of your breasts and the dips in your waist. Within seconds, the elevator door opened with a ping and you had reached the floor of your apartment. Hungrily, you grabbed Frankie by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to your front door, unlocking it with haste. Once you were inside, you turned to shut the door behind you when Frankie pinned you against it. His hands were on your wrists and your arms were spread out over the wood. He pressed a kiss into your jaw. “You want this?” his voice was rough and barely above a whisper, and his manner made your knees weak. He was so close to you, you could smell the beer mixed with his fragrance.

You didn’t dare move, but instead mewled out a tiny “yes”. Frankie smirked and turned you around so he could look at you in the eyes. He still had a hold of you, his grip was as tight as vice and his eyes were no longer the usual shade of honeyed brown but instead were much darker and lustful with a predatory glint. He kissed you again, hard, and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, begging for entry which you quickly granted. It was easy to get lost in the kiss; he was so good and so passionate. He worked his hands all over your body, pulling the occasional moan from your lips. Hearing the noises you made felt like music to his ears. You felt his hardened manhood press against the inside of your thigh and you shuddered, breaking the kiss to regain your breath. “Bedroom.” you mumbled out. You took Frankie’s hand and dragged him through the living room and into your small bedroom. He sat himself down on the edge of your bed and began to kick off his shoes when you took him by surprise and straddled him, wrapping your legs around him and initiating another heated kiss.

You needed some kind of release and on impulse, you began to grind yourself over Frankie’s denim clad leg. Your heart was racing as you rubbed yourself over the material, a fire burning deep in your stomach at the friction between the jeans and the thin silk panties you were sporting. Frankie placed a soft kiss to your lips, along your jaw, and down your neck as you began to get yourself off on him. He bit down gently, leaving his mark, wanting to claim you as his own. “Mine.” His voice was dark and you grabbed his shoulders, grinding on his leg harder.

“Yours.” You shakily exhaled, trying to keep your composure. You shuffled forward, further onto him and started rubbing yourself over his erection, pulling a groan from his lips, and you couldn’t help but smile knowing that this was your doing. You kept at it, enjoying the control, and watched Frankie’s eyes close from the sensation as you grinded over him.

“Yeah baby that’s it,” he praised. “Take what you need.”

Those four words threw you over the edge. You reached up, letting your fingers tangle in Frankie’s chocolate coloured locks of hair, tugging at them as you rode out your high. He opened his eyes, watching you as you dropped your head back, seeing stars. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Feeling satisfied, you scrambled off him, your legs shaky and he grabbed the hem of your dress. He began to pull it off you as eagerly as he could. Frankie noticed the damp patch on his leg from your wetness and muttered another curse. You were so wet and it was all for him. He looked up at you, watching you kick your dress to one side and felt his jaw tick. He was mesmerised by your body. In only your panties, you straddled him once more, and Frankie let his hands roam over your breasts, giving them the occasional squeeze.

“My turn.” you told him, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing him into the blankets of your bed. He let out a soft groan as his head hit your pillow and you shuffled backwards a little. You unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them before pulling them down to his ankles. Frankie kicked them off and they pooled into a pile amongst his shirt and your dress at the bottom of the bed. A little gasp escaped your lips when you eyed up his hardened length under the thin cloth of his boxer shorts, a small patch of wetness already visible. You dipped your hands into his underwear and pulled him out, licking your lips at the sight of his precum beading at the tip.

You let your fingers wander his length, teasingly, making sure you were as soft as possible. Then, you pulled away and spat into your hand. You wrapped your hand around his cock and began pumping at it. “Ngh, s-so good,” Frankie grunted, closing his eyes as you worked at him. “Haven’t-haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Relax,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you.”

Frankie bucked his hips further into your hand and you kept going. His eyes fluttered shut and his mind was in a solid state of euphoria. This was better than he had ever imagined and he knew he wouldn’t last long. You stroked him up and down and watched him as he came undone beneath you.

“Wanted this for so long,” he admits mindlessly. “Imagined this, so many nights… imagined your pretty lips around my-”

You cut Frankie off by taking his length in your mouth and pushing as deep as you could, opening your throat up to him and gagging slightly from his length. However, it didn’t take long to become comfortable with the way his cock filled you. He let out a gasp, his back arching and his fists grabbing the bed sheets. You bobbed your head up and down and he took a fistful of your hair, only encouraging you further.

He raised his head and watched you take him. Your hand still wet, you begin to pump the remaining length of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth and he shudders in ecstasy. With your free hand, you cradle his balls, rubbing circles with your thumb and you can feel him almost lose it completely.

“Won’t last,” he warns you. “Please, wanna be inside you. Wanna feel your pussy.” he practically begs and as soon as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, you pull off him, leaving a trail of your saliva between your tongue and his length.

You admired Frankie’s naked body spread out in your bed, a thin sheen of sweat glazing over his chest. It was a sight you had only dreamed about. He sat up and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you down so now he was on top. He positioned himself in between your legs and gently spread them apart, eyeing up the dark patch in the crotch of your panties from where you had previously orgasmed on his leg. He let his finger glide over the material, rubbing against the bud of your clit and you whimpered in desperation. “So wet for me.” he drew out. “Can I taste?” he asked, looked up at you with his big brown eyes. You wanted to smack that innocent look he had playing on his face.

“Frankieee.” you cried out. You would never, ever deny oral from Frankie but right now you craved something else. “Need you inside me. Please.”

Frankie pulled your panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “Oh baby,” he moaned, running his fingers through your slick wet folds. “I’m just warming up.” his voice was like honey and he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking intently. You threw your head back at the sensation and felt his mustache and stubble tickle you as he worked your core.

This was better than anything Frankie had ever dreamed about. He needed to taste every drop of your arousal. He had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. He wanted to savour every moment like it was his last. After all, you two were the best of friends and he didn’t know where exactly you’d stand about all of this tomorrow. If you’d even want to see him again. You were both risking a lot but somehow, it felt worthwhile.

Frankie found it difficult to remain composed as he devoured you and felt your body shake as you neared your climax. He grabbed your thighs, steadying you as you let out a wail. “Please Frankie.” you cried out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Need you inside of me.”  You reminded, tugging on his hair even harder. He took his finger and grazed your entrance while still working his tongue against you. “Stop teasing.”

For once, Frankie listened to you and pulled his lips away from you. He thought he could cum just from eating you out and he didn’t want that to happen. This could be his only chance. You groaned in frustration at the break of contact. You were so close and he had edged you completely before pulling away. You had asked for it. He was such a tease. Frankie hovered himself over you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his cock nudge against your core and you dug your fingernails into his back. You needed him now.

“Do you have a condom?” Frankie whispered into your ear. He hadn’t brought any to the fake date because truthfully, he didn’t expect the night would be ending like this.

“I’m safe.” you promised him and he smiled, kissing your lips. You laced your fingers into his hair as he steadied himself on the bed.

“Are you ready?” Frankie questioned, nudging his cock over your entrance again causing you to let out a wail.

“Please Frankie. I’m ready.”

The second those two words left your lips, Frankie thrusted deep inside you. You gasped as he slowly adjusted himself inside of you and, still experiencing your high from when he ate you out, you knew you wouldn't ask long. He felt your walls tighten around him and he knew it too.

“I’m gonna cum.” you warned him, tugging on his curls at the nape of his neck and pulling his head down into your collarbones. He pinched at your skin with his teeth and increased his speed.

“Cum for me.” He instructed, his voice dark. With a few more sloppy thrusts, you came undone beneath him, dragging your nails down his back. He didn’t stop and continued to thrust into you as you climaxed causing small screams to emit from your lips. Frankie loved the little noises you made.

“Shit,” he whispered, his coarse hands finding and massaging your breasts. “Your cunt gets so tight when you cum.”

“Frankieeee, keep doing that and I’ll cum again.” you said softly and you felt Frankie’s lips twist into a wicked smirk as he pushed himself deeper inside of you.

“Ngh you feel so good,” Frankie grunted, pearls of sweat beading at his hairline. “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me another one?”

“Yes Frankie,” you obeyed, cupping your hands around his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes while he fucked you. His coarse facial hair grazed your hands but nothing felt as good as his length filling you up, hitting you in just the right spot with each thrust.

“I want you to cum with me,” Frankie gasped, groaning loudly as he felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close, and you could feel it too. “Same time.” he instructed. He was so used to giving orders, that it turned you on even more. “Can you do that for me?” his voice was urged and he kept his pace consistent.

You managed to give him a small nod and closed your eyes feeling nothing but pure bliss and ecstasy. “I’m close!” you managed to cry out.

“Me too, n-not long baby,” Frankie promised you. “Say my name.”

“Fuck Frankie, you fuck me so good. Your cock fills me up so well. Feels so good,” you moaned, your legs tightening around his waist.

“That’s it.” Frankie groaned.

“Cum inside me Frankie,” you gasped. “Pl-please. Need to feel your warm cum inside of me.”

“Gonna count down baby girl,” Frankie said, straightening up and pushing more hard thrusts inside of you. He admired your tangled body between him and brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it while he finished fucking you. “Are you ready?”

“Frankieeee.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“3, 2,” Frankie pushed one final deep thrust into you. “1.” You and Frankie both came together, your wet cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and his thick ropes of cum spilling inside of you.

Frankie rolled off you and lay next to you. You curled yourself into his damp chest and he slung his arm around you. You felt safe. Protected. You knew that Frankie would never let anyone or anything hurt you but now it felt different. He was your safety, and you were his home. For a few minutes, you both laid there in silence trying to regain your breath and settle down.

“That was-” Frankie started but you cut him off.

“So good.” you smiled and he grinned back in agreement.

“The best.” He replied and gave you a little squeeze of reassurance.

“Hey Frankie?” You asked and he hummed in acknowledgement. “If that was a fake date… what the hell do you do on a fake date?” You raised an eyebrow and giggled when you saw Frankie’s cheeks rosy up.

“Wanna find out?” He beckoned and your grin couldn’t have grown any wider. You were finally going to get your chance to have a real date with Frankie.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #smut #catfish morales #triple frontier #x reader

[yan-senna]

Nightmares (SS)

By yan-senna

Other links to the one shot: Wattpad / AO3

One shot schedule list

The Keeper of the Diamond series

Want to be tagged when I post a fanfic?

Introduction:

This is a one shot of The Keeper of the Diamond series. It contains Severus Snape x reader. I only own Y/N who is 19 years old.

Y/N has nightmares. Snape apparates to her home to comfort the distressed girl.

I hope you enjoy!

PS: You can send requests!

Word count: 1k

Published: 11/28/2021

TW: Mentions of death and torture

Everything is dark. Y/N has absolutely no idea where in the world she is. It looks like an abandoned house.

She only has one option - to move forward and investigate the dark and creepy building.

As she starts walking, she has a feeling that she isn’t alone.

“Is somebody there?“ she asks as loudly as she dares to, which is not very loud.

As no one replies, she decides to keep moving. She suddenly sees a shadow to her left. Startled, she puts a hand to her heart, trying to calm herself down.

What feels like a few minutes later, she keeps moving again. She then reaches a door - what could be behind it?

With a trembling hand, she decides to open the door, really slowly. She then enters the room.

At first, she sees nothing. It’s completely dark. But suddenly, the light turns on.

Y/N blinks a few times to let her eyes adjust to the bright light. When she finally focuses on what’s in front of her, she gasps loudly.

It’s Snape and Lucius… chained to the wall with bloodied faces. It looks like they are unconscious.

She runs towards them. “Severus? Lucius?” she quietly says, trying to wake them up. It however doesn’t seem to work.

Suddenly, a loud bang can be heard as the door is locked. She gulps at that.

“H-hello?” she asks, sounding terrified.

She then hears a laugh. A recognisable laugh.

“Aww, is the Keeper scared, huh?” a voice asks mockingly.

A person then steps forward from the shadows - Bellatrix Lestrange. Y/N starts to panic. Did she escape from Azkaban, again?

Bellatrix approaches the scared girl. “Isn’t that cute? Well, you should be scared. Why don’t we add another one to the collection?” she asks as she smirks, gesturing to Y/N’s scarred cheek.

The girl is shaking from fear. “No… Please wake up!” she whispers to Snape and Lucius.

Bellatrix seems to hear her as she starts laughing like a maniac.

“You stupid girl, haven’t you noticed? They are DEAD” she says, giving a creepy smile.

Y/N widens her eyes. She then touches the two men’s wrists… No. There’s no way, they can’t be…

“No!” Y/N exclaims with a sob, falling to the floor as she starts to cry.

She then yelps in pain as Bellatrix yanks her up by her hair.

“Let’s start where we left off last time” she says as she brings out a knife.

As she’s about to cut Y/N’s other cheek, everything turns black…

Y/N jumps up in bed, panting heavily with tears in her eyes. It was just a dream, a really bad dream…

She suddenly notices that she isn’t alone in her room.

“Y/N?” a voice gently asks.

Startled, Y/N covers herself with her duvet, crying hysterically.

The person carefully approaches the crying girl. They then put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

As the touch feels familiar, she slowly starts to relax. She’s still crying, though.

The person then gently removes the duvet. She then looks into onyx eyes.

It’s Severus Snape.

“Sev” she says with trembling lips, tears still in her eyes.

Snape has a very worried expression as he immediately sits on her bed, wiping off her tears with his thumb.

“I had a feeling that something was wrong, so I decided to apparate here… Your friends were awake and worried, but I told them that I would take care of you. Did you have nightmares?“ he gently asks her.

Y/N slowly nods, feeling extremely embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know it was you who were in my room” she admits.

Snape gives her a small smile. “No reason to apologise” he assures her.

He then taps his thigh to signal her to sit there. She doesn’t even think twice before jumping onto his lap, hugging him tightly as she buries her face in his chest.

He chuckles at that. “Shh, I’m here, you are okay. You are safe” he reassures her, drawing comforting circles on her back. He then kisses the top of her head.

“Your nightmare… Would you like to talk about it?” he questions, a bit hesitant.

Closing her eyes, Y/N takes a deep breath. “Bellatrix… She killed you and Lucius… She was going to torture me… I thought I lost you, both of you” she says, her voice cracking as she starts crying again.

Snape hugs her, tightly and protectively. “I’m here, Y/N. Lucius and I are fine, Bellatrix is in Azkaban… Everything is okay, princess” he says, kissing her cheek.

Sniffling, Y/N slowly nods. “Can you stay? I don’t want to be alone” she says, looking at him with her tired, teary eyes.

Wiping off her tears once more, Snape nods as he kisses her nose. That makes her blush.

“Of course, I have no plans to leave anytime soon” he says.

He then rises from the bed to take off his shoes and pants. As he does so, Y/N blushes even more. Smirking, he takes off his cloak and shirt as well.

He then lies down in her bed and pats the spot next to him. She immediately joins him as she lies down beside him, hugging him tightly like one would hug a teddy bear.

Snape then covers them both with the duvet. Once they are both comfortable, he caresses her scarred cheek.

“Good night, princess. You should get some sleep. I’ll be right here the entire night, also when you wake up. We can eat pancakes in the morning and visit Lucius and Narcissa afterwards, would you like that?” he asks.

She nuzzles her face in his chest. “Yes, please. I would love that. Good night, Sev. And thank you” she mutters tiredly as she closes her eyes, smiling.

Not long after, gentle snoring can be heard. She fell asleep.

Snape can’t help but chuckle. “You are welcome, princess. Sweet dreams” he whispers in her ear.

Not long after, the Potions Master falls asleep as well.

She might have had nightmares, but she will definitely have sweet dreams while being in Snape’s protective arms.

Author’s note:

If you liked this, then you might also like Sick Day (SS, LM), That Time of the Month (LM) and Don’t Stress Yourself (SS, LM)!

Taglist:

@severuslovebot

@nickangel13

#harry potter #fanfiction #the keeper of the diamond #severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape #snape x reader #reader #one shot #one shots #pro snape #snapedom #snape fandom #snape community #snape fanfic #snape fanfiction #snape fic

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: I’ll Try Anything Once

A/N: Hi guys! So this sort of feels like a filler chapter, but I hope you still all enjoy it :) And ps...this chapter is based on I’ll Try Anything Once by Julian Casablancas (it’s derived from one of the Strokes’ demos I think)

Summary: You and Neil land in London to some majorly unfortunate circumstances that are too overwhelming for you to handle, but Neil is done letting you get hurt. 

Warnings: Death, guns, gunshot wounds, explosions, violence/murder (implied more or less), cursing, minor angst maybe, and yay fluff!

Word Count: 4,191

“Hey,” A voice whispers softly; the familiar sound encourages you to lift your eyelids. “(Y/N), we’re about to land,” The voice whispers again as you feel yourself slowly rocking back and forth. You groggily open your eyes. 

The cabin of the plane is dark except for a few scattered overhead reading lights. You notice that your head is still resting against Neil’s chest as his warm hold envelopes you, keeping you pressed tightly against him. A tickle twitches in your stomach as you feel the plane drop down closer to the ground. The tickle quickly turns to terror as you remember where you’re headed. You feel your heart rapidly beat in your chest. You take a deep breath, hoping to suppress your paralyzing fears of being back out in the field. 

Neil’s calming voice grounds you. “Are you alright?” He asks, his arms tightening around you. The airplane drops some more, causing the tickle in your stomach to continue. 

“I’m not sure,” You respond honestly as you try and swallow your fear in your throat. Of course, it doesn’t work. The airplane drops again, and you pull slightly away from Neil to look out the window. Lights twinkle below you, and you can see Heathrow Airport in the near distance. 

The seat creaks a bit as Neil moves closer to you. His cheek brushes up against yours as he peers out the window. His closeness was comforting. 

Neil sighs. “I know you don’t want to be here, (Y/N),” Neil says as his right arm wraps around your shoulders again, stealing your attention away from the lights of the towns below.  “But it’s going to be okay. We’ll get in, get what we need, get rid of who we don’t, and get out.” He shoots a smirk in your direction.

The plane grows even closer to the ground but the tickles disappear, and nausea fills your stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick,” You complain. Anxiety courses through your veins, worsening your current state. 

Neil, with his arm still around your shoulders, shakes his head and pulls you away from the window. “You’re not throwing up here,” He says, chuckling a bit. “Or I’ll be doubled over with you.” You find yourself laughing too, but it’s no surprise. That’s simply what Neil does to you. He makes everything seem like it could be…

Okay. 

You were too wrapped up in thoughts of Neil to notice when the wheels of the plane came crashing on the ground. The sound of skid marks screeching against the tarmac gave way for the anxiety to settle back down into your stomach. You shudder, imagining all the things that could go wrong. All the stupid little things that could go horribly, horribly wrong.

You watch as everyone begins to stand up from their seats, walking out into the aisle and grabbing their things from the overhead compartments. Neil gives you a final squeeze before letting go and following suit with the rest of the people on the plane. You look back out the window for a second, contemplating whether or not being in Tenet is worth it at all. There’s so much danger, so much death, so much fear. 

And my own father is the enemy, You think. 

“Are you ready, love?” Neil calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You shrug and stand up from the seat, hunching over ever so slightly as to not smack your head against the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever be, so I might as well just jump without looking, right?” 

Neil smiles sadly, almost as if to apologize. “Then I’ll be ready for you, and I’ll catch you when you fall.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest at his reassurance, despite the sardonic nature of your comment. “Neil I-,” You say, carefully stepping out into the aisle. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Neil starts, seemingly minimizing his ability to change your entire mood. “This is what friends are for.”

Right, friends. 

Neil guides you out of the plane and onto the bridge. After a short walk, you enter the airport. 

It’s a ghost town. Some people are sleeping, slumped over in uncomfortable, stiff chairs waiting for their flight. You had forgotten that the time had changed. You look down at your phone to see that your New York time zone has already been switched to London’s. 

3:56 AM

It only takes a few shuffles out to the main concourse for you to recognize how exhausted you are in spite of your ability to sleep on the plane. After all, that had been the most sleep you had gotten since the…accident. 

You and Neil walk in silence for a while. It isn’t an awkward silence. It’s the comfortable, relaxing kind. It’s the kind of silence shared by two people who don’t need to talk to share how much they enjoy the other’s company. You take in all the shops and food stores as an attempt to keep yourself distracted from the terror of the mission. 

You step onto an escalator, and your attention finally lands on Neil’s face. You had studied it a million times, as odd as that sounds, but you couldn’t help it. You liked looking at him. You liked getting confirmation that he was in fact real and was in fact with you. 

“Hey,” You finally speak up. “Aren’t we in your hometown now?”

You watch as Neil’s cheeks lift and the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yeah,” He says back. “I guess we are.” His eyes rest on yours for a second before they flicker down to your lips. It catches you off guard, but the moment is gone just as soon as it begins as you’re forced to step off the escalator. You enter the baggage claim area and head straight towards the exit of the airport. 

Conveniently waiting outside the doors is a black town car. You look to Neil, making sure it’s the right one. Neil nods, silently confirming that this is a part of the plan. You open the door and plop onto the seat. You hear Neil open and close the trunk before he takes his spot next to you in the car. 

“We live in a twilight world,” Neil says. But there’s no answer. 

You clear your throat nervously, reaching underneath your black, baggy, menswear dress pants, clutching onto the small revolver tied against your calf. “He said, we live in a twilight world.” 

There’s no answer again. You take the revolver out, aiming it at the man. You look over at Neil and notice that his shirt is undone; he had already taken his gun out. He always kept it under his shirt, attached to his chest. He hunches over, slowly moving towards the man through the center console. 

The man’s hat is titled over his forehead. Neil takes it off. 

Neil parts his lips. “Fuck,” His voice is shallow. “He’s dead. He’s got a bullet in the center of his forehead,” There’s a panic in Neil’s voice.  He looks up to the windshield, and you follow his gaze. There’s no point of entry, no shattered glass. 

“So someone else has already been here,” You remark. Neil’s eyes widen as he moves the man’s shirt over a bit. 

That’s when the light beeping noise starts. 

“SHIT!” Neil screams. “Get out of the car! NOW!” He opens the door on your side of the car and practically shoves you out. You stumble, barely able to catch your balance when your feet hit the ground. Neil sprints to the trunk, opening it up and grabbing the luggage. 

You follow behind him, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away. “The luggage, really?” You shout in disbelief. 

Neil secures both bags in his right hand, and grabs your wrist with his left. You both break out into a sprint. “We need to take cover,” Neil says in between breaths, his eyes frantically searching around the taxi area. “Do you see-,”

BOOM!

“FUCK!” Neil yells, practically tripping over his feet as the concrete vibrates violently below. He catches his balance just before he can face plant into the ground.

The car explodes behind you. The heat of the flames radiate on your back. You don’t dare look behind you; you keep running. 

You and Neil finally reach a parking lot, and stop for a break.

“What the hell was that?” You whisper, angrily grabbing Neil by the collar and bringing him in between two minivans for cover, just in case anyone had followed you or was planning to attack. 

Neil grabs your waist in return, brining you even closer to him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realize how close you are to him. “They must know we’re here,” Neil says. His eyes are still wide and his breathing is still heavy. 

“And the suitcases?” You question with heavy concern, and even frustration, in your voice. “Do you not have firefighters come into your elementary schools in England? Do you not get taught that stuff can be replaced and human beings can’t be?” Your whisper turns into more of an angry shout. 

Neil shakes his head in disapproval. “There are explosives in my suitcase, (Y/N). If they detonated we would be dead,” He says, panic still evident in his voice, and a bit of anger as well. 

You nod, loosening your grip on his collar. “I’m sorry I just,” You pause, knowing full well what had just come over you. “I just didn’t want anything to happen to you, that’s all.” You feel your eyes becoming glossy. This was the very thing you were afraid of. You were almost blown to bits, and worse than that, Neil could’ve died. The mission was already failing, and it hadn’t even truly started yet.

You shut your eyes tightly, and a few tears roll down your cheeks.

Neil swallows hard, his arms still resting on your waist. “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that.” Neil pulls you into an embrace. 

“It’s okay,” You mumble quietly into his chest.

You let him hold you in silence for a few moments. You needed to process things. You needed to ground yourself. You needed this second with Neil. 

You feel yourself dozing off a bit in Neil’s arms. Visions of a bed with a plush comforter and satin sheets play over in your head. It had to be almost 4:30 in the morning at this point. 

“How are we going to get to the hotel?” You ask, longing for a good night’s sleep. “And what if they know what hotel we’re staying in?”

Neil pulls apart from you and reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. “I’ll call TP and figure out what we’re supposed to do.” Neil types in his passcode, presses on the screen a few times, and lifts his phone up to his ear. 

You look up into the night sky to distract yourself. The stars twinkle lightly, but there’s too much light pollution to get a good look. The cold wind nips at you roughly. You turn to face Neil. He’s pacing back and forth about twenty feet away from you. You try and tune into what he’s saying.

“They fucking know we’re here, what am I supposed to do?” The frustration in his voice is clear. He waits for a response. 

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess, but you shouldn’t have forced her out into the field this early,” He pauses again. “No I don’t care that you’re the boss, she wasn’t ready when she left this afternoon and she definitely isn’t ready now!”

Silence, and then another sentence. “No, I’m not letting my feelings get in the way, that’s not what this is.”

Feelings? 

“I mean of course it’s because I care about her, you know how I feel…” He trails off, and walks a bit farther away from you. What he says next, you can’t hear.

After a few seconds, he starts to walk back, still keeping a bit of a distance. “Alright, we’ll head over there now,” Neil looks up at you and winks, confirming that there’s some sort of plan set in place. 

Neil turns his back to you. “And I swear to God,” He whispers, thinking you can’t hear him, “If she dies, I’m going to kill you.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine at his words. You knew Neil cared about you, but you didn’t know he would threaten TP for you, even if it was just a sarcastic threat.

But this wasn’t a joke.  

“Yeah okay. Thanks,” Neil says finally. “Talk to you later.” He takes the phone away from his ear and presses the red button to hang up. He walks back over to you. You’re still overwhelmed by what Neil had said on the phone, but you push those thoughts to the back of your head.

You yawn listlessly. “So what’s going to happen?” You ask, ready to crash to the ground in exhaustion. 

Neil smiles. He picks up the luggage in his right hand again, and points to the other side of the parking lot. You notice a separate lot filled with rental cars. “TP put in a favor and we’re getting our own car. Looks like you’ll have to deal with my driving.” 

You can’t help but smile back at him. You didn’t mind Neil’s driving at all, to be honest. You felt safe when Neil drove. But then again, you felt safe with Neil no matter what he did. 

“It’s just on the other side of the lot,” Neil reassures. You roll your eyes at the thought of more walking, but you figured it may be a good time to talk about what you had just heard Neil say on the phone. 

Before you can think of something to say, Neil loops his left arm around your waist. His fingers settle on the exposed skin underneath your oversized blazer. Your nerves tingle underneath his touch, and any thoughts you had before disappear from your mind. 

After a few seconds, you force yourself to think back to the phone call. “Neil? Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” Neil says back, smiling down at you. 

“The phone call you just had, with TP,” You pause, trying to find the right words.

Neil shakes his head. “Whatever you heard, don’t worry about it, please. I know what I’m doing,” He pauses and pulls you closer to him. "You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright. ” You’re not entirely content with his answer, but it’s enough for now. 

After a five minute walk, you finally reach the rental lot. Neil walks over to the man inside of the tiny cube shaped building. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but a set of keys are exchanged, and Neil motions for you to follow him. You begrudgingly pick up your pace to catch up with him.

“What kind of car is it?” You ask. Neil presses the panic button once, and the headlights of a black, Porsche 911 flash across your face. 

You go to get into the car, approaching the door on your left hand side, forgetting you’re now in Europe. Neil smirks at you, grabs your hand, and brings you to the other side of the car. He sets the luggage down on the ground, and opens your door, letting you slip inside. Normally, you would have a cheeky response to Neil opening the door for you, but you were too tired now. Neil grabs the luggage, and walks around the other side of the car. He opens his door and puts the luggage in the back seat. 

Neil puts the key into the ignition and starts the car. He takes out his phone, and through your blurry vision, you watch as he slides his finger around. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. Your voice is barely above a whisper and it’s filled with tiredness. “Just drive,” You order sarcastically, nudging Neil with your elbow.  Your sarcasm melts away when you remember the gravity of the situation. “What if they’re already here? What if they’re looking for us?” 

Neil puts his phone in the cupholder, and rests his hand on your thigh. “I’m just setting up the GPS and choosing some music, love,” Neil says. “Take a deep breath. TP just arranged for us to stay at a different hotel, and he has eyes and ears everywhere. We’ll be alright.”

Ten decisions shape your life,

You’ll be aware of 5 about,

7 ways to go to school,

Either you’re noticed or left out.

“I love this song,” You say, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“I know,” Neil says. “Try to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” His voice is calming, and you almost do as he says, but you remember where you are. You wanted to look at the city. You wanted to see it before all the chaos began. You had been to London plenty of times before, but leaving the United States still excited you, even though you were rarely there at all anymore.

When I said "I can see me in your eyes,”

You said "I can see you in my pants,”

That's not just friendship that's romance too.

You like music we can dance to.

The highway goes on for a while, looking reminiscent of highways in America. Grass and trees line the black concrete. There’s no light save for a few street lamps. Each time you start to doze off, you force yourself to wake up. The feeling of Neil’s thumb drawing circles on your thigh doesn’t make it too hard. 

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

The trees melt into industrial areas. Car dealerships, stores, apartments, hotels. And finally, after a few more minutes, you’ve hit Central London. The lights are bright and the buildings are beautiful. 

Don't don't don't don't it's not safe no more,

I've got to see you one more time.

Neil pulls into a parking garage and finds an open spot. “We’re here,” He says, squeezing your thigh lightly. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, carefully open the door, and slide out of the car. Neil grabs the two duffle bags and gets out after you. You head inside the hotel, and Neil checks in. He grabs the keycard and ushers you into the elevator. 

The second you enter the lift, worry fills Neil’s face. His brows furrow and he shuts his eyes as he lets his head hit the wall behind him. 

“Neil?” You ask. “What’s going on?” Maybe it was the jet lag, or maybe it was the exhaustion, but you feel more confident than usual. You step towards him and grab his hands in yours.

Neil takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry we’re here,” He says, his eyes still closed, as if he’s too guilty to face you. “I didn’t want to do the mission yet. I really wanted to wait. I know you aren’t ready yet. I just-,” 

You wrap your arms around Neil, and hold him tightly against your body. “I’ll be alright Neil, I promise.” His arms wrap around your body in response. You pull away from him slightly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You look up into his eyes, down to his lips, and back into his eyes again. Neil brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath against your lips. 

“(Y/N), I need to-,” 

The conversation is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator and the giggles of a drunken couple as they step inside. 

The woman speaks up. “Sssorry for interrupting, loves,” She slurs, cackling a bit. Her boyfriend joins in and cackles with her. Neil politely smiles and nods. He picks up the luggage yet again with one hand, grabbing your wrist with the other. He pulls you outside the elevator and into the hallway. 

Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest. “Neil, you had something you needed to say?”

But the moment is over. He shakes his head. “We can talk about it some other time, I don’t want to overwhelm you. Enough has happened tonight.” Your heart sinks in your chest. Neil swallows, glancing back over towards the elevator. “And those people seemed off. We should really get inside the room.” You nod, agreeing, and allow Neil to take hold of your hand and guide you down the hall to the suite.  

You finally approach the room. 

505. 

“This is us,” Neil says, setting the luggage on the ground to swipe the keycard. The door unlocks, and Neil press down on the handle. You enter the dully lit room, and immediately flop onto the king bed. Neil smirks at you from the doorway. 

He walks inside, and you sigh in relief. “This is so nice,” You murmur, sliding your black converse off your feet. You push yourself further onto the bed so that your head rests on a pillow. 

“We should probably shower,” Neil says, crossing the room. He places the duffle bags on the desk by the window. He takes his suit jacket off. 

You chuckle. “What, like, together?” You erupt into laughter. There was something about being so unbelievably tired and jet lagged that made you a completely different person. It was like being drunk. 

Neil shakes his head and smiles widely. “If that’s what you want,” He retorts.

Oh? Is he flirting with me? He can’t be.

“I-I think I’m t-too tired for a shower a-at all,” You stutter, not sure what else to say. 

“Me too,” Neil says. He begins to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt one by one. Suddenly, his chest is completely exposed. You feel heat rising to your cheeks. 

He undoes his belt, unzips his fly, and steps out of his trousers. He’s only wearing his boxers now. You had seen him like this a million times, but it still caught you by surprise. He walks over to the other side of the bed, grabs a pillow, and drops it on the ground. He grabs the throw blanket at the edge of the bed and drops it on the ground as well.

You furrow your brows, confused by his actions. “What are you doing?” You ask. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. “Setting up camp,” He jokes, sending a smile your way.

You breathe deeply, still riding out on the confidence that being sleep deprived gave you. “Why don’t you sleep in the bed with me?” 

Neil inhales sharply. “I don’t want to bother you. You’re exhausted.”

“I think I’d sleep better if you were with me, actually.” You let the words come right out, no regrets. “You make me feel safe, Neil,” You confess. 

Neil smiles and bends down, grabbing the pillow and the blanket, placing them back on the bed. He lifts the covers and slides in. You get underneath the covers too. You don’t realize how close you are to Neil until you turn onto your side to face him. 

“I’m glad I make you feel safe, (Y/N),” Neil finally responds. Your heart feels like it might burst. You and Neil had shared a bed in the past, but you had only ever been this close inside of one a handful of times before. “You have no idea how much I care about you.”

“You have no idea how much I care about you, Neil,” You say. 

Neil pushes himself up a bit, and presses a kiss against your forehead. You’re stunned. “Goodnight, (Y/N),” Neil says, and he reaches over to turn off the lamp next to his nightstand. The room goes pitch black. 

“Goodnight, Neil,” You say. Neil turns over to the other side and you do the same. You stay like that for a few minutes, before tossing and turning a few times. Seconds ago you were comfortable, and now you weren’t. 

As you laid alone in your thoughts, your anxieties all began to flood back to you. How the fuck am I going to do this? How is this mission going to turn out? This is going to be absolutely impossible. What if something happens to Neil? Your mind races with thoughts. You turn a few more times before you feel a hand on your waist. 

“I thought you were exhausted,” Neil snickers. 

“I am but-,”

Neil cuts you off. “But that doesn’t stop your mind from racing?” 

You turn around to face him. “Unfortunately, no.”

Neil wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into his bare chest. “Is this okay?” He asks. 

“Y-yes,” You stutter, pressing your face into the center of his chest. 

And finally, for the first night in over a month, you were able to sleep, nightmare free. 

So why not try it all,

If you only remember it once?

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

>>>>>Chapter 3

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[fictional-worlds]

Not What It Seems (Daryl X Person Of Color Reader)

Pairing: (Daryl x Person of Color Reader)

Plot: After the end of the world, Daryl and Y/N seek comfort in each other. When Meryl finds out that his redneck brother is dating a person of color ...he may not be the happiest...

Warnings: Angst, rejection, racism, threatening, violence, hint of racial slurs (I tried not to use the actual thing but I’m sorry if it still offends some people but it is a word that character said in the series.)

Ps. I do not own any of The Walking Dead characters nor do I claim to own you!

A/N: I know I haven’t updated in a while but I am feeling very inspired this week so be ready for some new releases! Don't forget that requests are still open! Thanks for being patient and for your support! Lmk what you guys think of this!

It’s been four to five weeks since the end of the world happened. During that short amount of time, everything went down - from water, to electricity, to phone lines… to our government… to civilization.

Luckily, I was able to leave the city with a group of people. Our camp’s located on higher ground at the end of a quarry for safety.

A cop, a mother and son, a family of four, a family of 3, two redneck brothers, two sisters, an Asian, an older man that owns an rv, and a couple more people make up our camp.

Everyone seems nice but I try to stay away from the redneck brothers. The eldest doesn’t seem to like people of color and the youngest just goes along with it.

At least that’s what I tried to do in the beginning. But the youngest brother, Daryl, was undeniably hot with his long hair, bangs always getting in his face, and those arms...just yum. So he kinda just grew on me.

First, it was small nods of acknowledgment whenever we walked by. Slowly but surely our relationship progressed to small talks at dinner with everyone else in camp then more private talks until I convinced him to teach me how to hunt. At first, he was reluctant, saying “ you could get hurt out ther’ ” in his southern drawl. By then, it was obvious that things were not what they seemed, he was not like his brother.

Thanks to my amazing charm and convincing skills *insert hair flip for dramatic effect*, I was able to convince him to teach me how to hunt. Daryl teaching me consisted of a lot of crouching down near animal or even walker prints/trails and determining which direction they went and if they are nearby. This meant that we were constantly hovering over each other, in each other’s personal space. There have been some very close calls where we’ve almost kissed because we both turn to look at each other at the same time. And I can’t say that I would dislike locking lips with him…

An incident happened during a run in a small nearby town that caused our relationship to grow exponentially quickly. While looking for medicine at a pharmacy, I was behind the counter while Daryl was searching the aisles. Normally, we’re very careful and efficient when it comes to runs.

We knock on the windows and wait a while for the walkers to show up but I guess one got stuck or something because as I searched behind the counter where the prescribed medicine was located a walker grabbed me and tried to rip me to shreds. It knocked me to the ground, hovering over me unsuccessfully trying to chomp on my neck, face, anywhere really. I don’t think they have a preference.

“Daryl!” I yelled out, honestly scared that he wouldn’t reach me in time as my arms started to give away.

Suddenly, I felt a whoosh as an arrow cut through the air, hitting the walker on the side of its head as it finally stopped moving. Letting out an oof as it drops on me, I look up at Daryl, seeing fear in his eyes- fear of losing me, losing our small talks, losing how I wrinkle my nose when I laugh, or how excited I get when it only takes me one time to shoot down my prey.

After getting the walker off me and helping me up, Daryl brings me into an embrace. “I told you to be careful, didn’t I?” he says as he holds onto me tighter. I’m still shocked because I’ve never seen Daryl hug or even touch anyone unless absolutely necessary and that even included his brother.

Slowly, I wrap my arms around his waist as I snuggle into his chest, “I know...I’m sorry, I thought we got all of them.”

“We’ll be more careful next time,” he mumbled with his chin on my head, arms still wrapped around me.

After that day, we were stuck together like glue and even though his brother, Meryl, didn’t like it very much, he wasn’t around to protest our friendship as he always went out on hunting trips by himself.

After a couple of days of secret glances and Daryl demanding we hold hands during hunting because “the ground is uneven and you could easily slip and twist your ankle and I ain’t carrying you back” it finally happened, the long-awaited kiss that is, while walking back to camp with a couple of squirrels and even a fox on hand.

With our hands locked and our catches of the day in our free hand, I actually did slip. Thankfully, Daryl easily caught me by pulling me towards him, arms wrapping around my waist, bumping into his chest.

Glancing up, I blushed as he stared at me. Right, when I was about to thank him, his head dipped down and his lips met mine.

Again, at first, I was frozen with shock but as his tongue swiped at my bottom lip, I reacted and molded my lips to his, opening my mouth to let his tongue in. The kiss was soft and pretty much innocent as we both poured our feeling into the kiss.

I pulled away for air after a few minutes, panting lightly. Daryl pressed his forehead on mine and nuzzled my nose. His long bangs tickling my face and I giggle softly. Daryl says, “I probably don’t have to ask, but will you be my girlfriend?”

I brush his hair out of his face and respond, “of course, I’d love to.”

That evening, we walked back, hand-in-hand, to camp with a big grin on our faces.

Sadly, the happy feeling doesn’t last long. As we approached the camp, we can hear shouting and fighting. Daryl and I both look at each other before taking off towards the camp.

There, Jim and Shane were holding back Meryl, who was apparently about to go on a run with some of the group. Meryl was struggling against them, trying to get to T-Dog, “I swear you talk back to me again and you’ll wish you were dead you ******!”

Suddenly, Meryl’s attention was drawn to the side, to Daryl and I, “well looky looky here, it seems little bro got himself a good whore for laying.”

“Stop it, man, that’s my girl you’re talking about,” Daryl states and he grips my hand tighter.

My heart warms at being called his girl but then it tightens when I see the rage on Meryls face reignite.

“Your girl?! This colored girl is your girl?! You know we, white folks, shouldn’t be with no colore-” Meryl doesn’t get to finish because Daryl lets go of my hand and punches him right on the jaw, effectively knocking him down.

“You might believe that but I don’t, that’s some bull**** and you know it. Y/N is my girlfriend now and you’re going to have to deal with it, understood?”

I don’t think I ever found him more attractive than now, so protective of me and uncaring of my race or race in general that he even punched his own brother for me.

“Y-yes,” Meryl groans out while rubbing his jaw.

Everyone still in shock at the scene that played before them.

“Come on Y/N,” Daryl outstretches his hand towards me and I take it, “we’re going to move your tent next to mine.”

----

A/N: Thank you for the support. I hope you liked this Daryl Dixon x Reader Oneshot! Let me know if you liked it! Don't forget requests are open and you can add yourself to my tag lists here!

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