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honeybeefae · 7 days

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Strawberry Wine (Tamlin x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY ELEVEN: APHRODISIACS

Summary// Calanmai was something you knew about but never took part in, preferring to stay on the sidelines or at home. It would be your luck that tonight, right at the Great Rite began, you would get picked right as you tried to sneak away. Before you can refuse, a sweet-tasting wine is given to you that makes your mind fuzzy, thighs clench, and Tamlin look better than ever.

(I said I was picking back up on Kinktober and in celebration of Earth Day, why not celebrate with the High Lord of Spring? This is my first time writing for Tamlin, and I’m lowkey excited! I hope you all like it <3)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+. Aphrodisiac Usage (so Dubcon), Biting, Slight Breeding Kink,

You have attended almost every Calanmai since reaching your maidenhood but always stayed in the dark. Watching your friends and others drink and be merry, giving back to the land and magic was fun, but you were the notorious wallflower.

Of course, you fantasized just as much as the other maidens about getting picked to help Tamlin in the Great Rite. It was always an honor to be picked, but after everything that happened over the last few years, this Rite was important. It would be the ultimate test of whether Tamlin could remain High Lord. If he could produce enough magic to heal the land…and hopefully himself.

Working as one of the servants in his house, you saw firsthand how Feyre and Hybern had made him a shell of his former self. Whispers of his weakening power were heard in every corner of the house. You hadn’t been under him when everything had happened, only the aftermath, but it hurt you to see someone so low.

Even if it were his own choices that led him to that place.

As the drums sound out, signaling the beginning of the Rite, you awake from your thoughts and begin to weave through the crowd. You did dream about being picked, but given the circumstances now, you pity the girl who was chosen. She was as much as responsible as Tamlin in the ritual.

Fire dances along the cave walls as you murmur apologies, trying to squeeze past the crowd that only seems to get louder and louder. A cool breeze whisps past you, almost as if it were trying to whisper something, but before you can focus on it, you feel a rough, calloused hand grasp your wrist.

“You.”

Time freezes along with your body as you recognize the rough, low voice. All eyes are on you, taking in every detail of your body as they try to decipher what made you stand out before they all come to their senses and cheer.

Tamlin doesn’t wait for your excuses that were already building on your tongue, turning back to stalk further into the cave that you had only seen in the darkest corners of your mind. You swallow, wondering if you could turn to dash, but before you can, several hands start to push you forward.

Your stomach lurches, and your vision blurs as you stand before several friends, family, and fellow court members. One of them, an elder, smiles warmly at you and holds up a single gold goblet. She whispers something akin to a prayer, though it is so loud you can barely hear her, before she brings the cup to your lips.

“Wait, please,” You raise your hand to push it away, staring at her pleadingly. “I’m not the right one. I was leaving. I’m the wrong girl.”

“Fate is never wrong, young maiden.” She hums, her fingers brushing away your stray hairs. “Drink. You will feel better.”

And despite every alarm bell going off in your head, you obediently open your mouth. It was as if she put a spell on you. The drink, a sweet wine that tastes faintly of strawberries, goes down your throat easily. Your tastebuds seem to explode at the richness of the alcohol, craving more as you grab the goblet yourself and tip it all the way back.

There were chuckles behind you as you frown into the empty cup, looking back up to the woman only to realize she looks slightly fuzzy. In fact, now that you think about it, everything seems blurry.

A warmth blossoms in your belly that makes you sigh, your eyelashes fluttering as the heat goes further down. You’re distantly aware that you are in public and should definitely not be rubbing your thighs together like you’re doing, but the shame is nowhere to be found. In fact, the only thing you can feel is desire.

“What’s…what’s happening to me?” You mumble, mouth going dry as the woman takes your hand and guides you to where Tamlin had gone.

“It’s an aphrodisiac, my dear. Something to lower your inhibitions and anxiety. It will allow more magic to flow through you and into the Earth.” She explains. You know it makes sense. A lot of people are held back by their own fears and cannot access their full potential.

The light dims the further you go until you feel her let go of your hand. You want to protest, to turn and run, but something otherworldly seems to push you forward until you see a small campfire flickering. The people you heard cheering and singing earlier had fallen silent, the air itself stilling as you peek around the corner to see the man waiting for you.

However, in the state he was in, you would describe him as more savage than man. His clothes were all but shredded, symbols painted onto his skin that seemed to glow as his hair fell out of its braids. You couldn’t see his face but knew his pupils were dilated, his canines probably sharper and longer.

“I can smell you,” Tamlin growls, turning his body so that his intense gaze meets your eyes. “I picked you out immediately.”

“I can smell you too…” You whisper, the wine heightening most of your senses as the scent of cedar, rain, and faint honeysuckles fills your nose. It makes your mouth water. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to do this. She gave me-”

Suddenly Tamlin was in front of you, your eyes immediately falling to his hard cock before he grasps your chin and pulls it up so that he could look into your eyes. There is a wide range of emotions, but the most dominant one is anger.

Anger?

“What did they give you?” His jaw clenches as he turns your face from side to side, taking in your glassy eyes and disheveled appearance. “They gave you the wine, didn’t they?”

“Why are you angry?” You skip over his question, raising your fingers to smooth over the frown lines on his forehead.

“Forgive me for not being thrilled that you are currently under drugs in order to sleep with me.” He snaps, pulling away from your touch. “I would never take advantage of you like this. And for them to think that you needed this…that no one would…”

You might be out of it, but you could feel the pain in his words. He didn’t know about the wine. His mind was spiraling, not only for your safety but also for the fact that his court members thought no one would want him anymore. That this was something they would have to force someone to do.

It confirmed all the worst things he thought of himself and his court.

But you weren’t forced here, not truly. Of course, you were hesitant at the beginning because you had never done something like this before, but now that you were here…you were sure that even without the aphrodisiacs, you would still feel this yearning.

This was sudden and not how you expected the night to go, but you weren’t upset. In fact, it was something you had been dreaming about. You hated seeing Tamlin holed away, to see how broken he was. You just wanted to heal him.

“Tamlin…” You say softly, taking the same approach one would do for an injured predator. “Tamlin, look at me.”

He does, and it damn near breaks you. All the pain, sorrow, anger, disappointment, grief, it was drowning him.

“This may not make sense because my mouth feels numb,” You smile, cracking a joke. “But first of all, please understand no one is forcing me here. I know I could leave any time, I know I could have refused the wine, I know what this means, and I chose it.”

“But-” He starts to protest, but you hold up your hand and smush your finger against his lips.

“Shhh, listen to me,” You soothe. “I cannot imagine what is inside your brain right now. The pressure, the memories, it sounds like hell. Just…let’s just forget about it tonight. Let this be the distraction you need, the healing this land needs, and tomorrow, we can worry about the rest.”

Tamlin gazes down at you, green eyes holding you still as he cups your face with shaky hands. The wind picks up around you, tickling your thighs and arms, before it pushes you forward and up to meet his plush lips.

Somewhere, distantly, you swear you hear fireworks going off as you immediately return the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, pressing your body impossibly closer as his fingers thread through your hair. His warmth only adds to yours, making you feel like an inferno as you swipe your tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

You meant what you said about tonight being a distraction. You are going to take full advantage of sleeping with the High Lord.

His chest rumbles with a growl that resonates to your core, pulling away for a brief moment to look you over before he claims your mouth once more. This time, it is much more passionate. Teeth clash, his once gentle fingers in your hair become a harsh grasp as he pulls your head to one side to expose your neck and shoulders.

“Cauldron save me,” He whispers into your skin, peppering open-mouth kisses to the column of your throat. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve craved this.”

“Likewise-ah!” You yelp as he bites down on your shoulder, just hard enough to make you wince. This doesn’t deter him. Instead, it spurs him on as he lifts you up effortlessly and pushes you against the cold cave wall.

“Look at you, petal,” Tamlin smirks as he cups your face again, running his thumb across your flush cheeks. “And we’ve barely even begun.”

“Please,” Your voice is high and needy as you feel his cock rut up against you, your panties already soaked through. “Please, I need more.”

He clicks his tongue and slips one of his hands between your bodies, his eyes screwing shut as he feels just how wet you are. You moan loudly when he shoves your underwear to the side and teases your cunt, brushing over your clit before shallowly dipping two fingers inside.

“Tamlin!” You groan, resting your head against the wall as he chuckles.

“Trust me, I want to bury myself as deep as I can inside this delicious pussy,” He moans, pushing his fingers in deeper to stretch you out. “But I have to make sure I won’t hurt you. I want you to take all of me, love. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Hearing him use such crass language only makes your whines increase as he curls his fingers, playing with your body like he knows every cord. You pant as his pace increases, feeling his precum leak onto your thigh as you beg and plead for him to just fuck you.

It’s only after what feels like an eternity that he pulls out his fingers and nudges the head of his cock against your entrance. You want to close your eyes, to make sure you feel every sensation, but Tamlin maintains eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I want to watch your face as you swallow my dick, petal. I want to watch those beautiful eyes tear up from the stretch and pleasure, to feel those little shakes as you take more and more.” He says lowly, kissing you one more time before he starts to thrust into you.

You couldn’t hold the moan in even if an arrow was notched against your head. Your cries bounce off the walls as he sinks deeper and deeper into you, his breaths coming out in pants as he finally bottomed out. His hands fall to your hips, digging into them with his emerging claws as he looks up at you.

The pupils were so round that you could barely see the green in his eyes, his teeth clenching as he pulls out slowly and thrust back up. The sensation pulls out a string of curses, and that is all the encouragement he needs to start fucking you.

He isn’t gentle, not caring that your back was scraping painfully against the cave wall or that his claws were almost piercing your flesh. Tamlin seems to be more beast than man, and you were no better, the wine enhancing everything as you swear you can feel him pulse inside you.

“Yes, yes, fuck right there!” You cry out, arching your back to try and get closer to him.

“That’s it, love, scream for me.” He growls as everything around him sharpens. You could feel something tingle in the back of your mind, like a gentle kiss, but he hits your spot, making your mind go blank.

And you do. You are certain they could hear you all the way in the night court as you feel your cunt tighten around him. Your orgasm had snuck up on you, but now that you were on the edge, you knew it was going to drown you.

Urgency begins to grow between you as he thrusts faster and harder. It was stealing the breath from your lungs as you chant his name, wrapping your arm around his neck and pulling him into your sweaty chest. Tamlin waste no time in kissing and sucking on your breasts, tugging on your nipples as his own balls start to throb.

“Cum in me, please, Tam,” You whimper, grinding down so that your clit is rubbing against his abs. “Fill me up with your seed, please!”

Before you can even blink, you feel him snap his hips up so sharp that it sends you hurdling over the edge. The tides of pleasure fill your lungs and drag you into darkness as your eyes screw shut, your orgasm so powerful you swear you can feel the ground shake.

And when Tamlin follows right behind you, his teeth connecting to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you actually do feel it shake. It sends the two of you falling down, but he is quick to catch you, cradling your head while continuing to fuck you full of his cum.

He pulls away long enough to roar before he kisses you fiercely, your own blood mingling with his saliva as you slowly start to come down. Tamlin rolls to the side and brings you with him, laying you across his chest while remaining inside you.

The sound of music is the first thing to stir you to look around, realizing the wine is starting to wear off as your gaze falls back to the High Lord. He looks positively sinful, his chest red and sweaty from exertion while his lips hold a playful smile.

“It’s nice to see that again.” You smile, suddenly bashful now that the liquid courage is gone.

“I have a feeling you’ll see a lot more of it in the future.” He responds, brushing away the strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You look yourself over, noting the bruises and scrapes, but you know they will heal soon. Mentally, you felt…well, those feelings were better saved for another day. Instead, you nod and rest your head on his chest, not wanting to spoil the moment.

He kisses your head, and when you nuzzle down further, your sensitive sex gives a small clench, and his chest rumbles with a warning.

“What? Are you already ready for round two?” You tease, lifting your chin to look at him.

Tamlin smirks again and pokes his tongue against his cheek, giving a weak thrust inside you so that you can feel him harden.

“You’re in for a long night, petal.”

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nikkisheep · 9 months

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To Be Alone With You (Part Two)

Anthony Bridgerton x Sharma!reader

Series Summary: Let's see, dear readers, where this journey of betrayal, lust, passion, and love take our viscount and Miss Sharma as they find their ways back to each other.

Warnings: Angst, kinda betrayal, guilty reader, proposal, sexual tension, reader stumbles upon Edmund Bridgerton's grave, Smut (oral F)

Summary: After the night of passion that was of you and the Viscount on the dock, Anthony is hit with the realization that he still planned on marrying Edwina.

Tag list: @faatxma

"I dare ask, Brother, what has gotten you to smile so much this fine morning?" Colin asked with a smirk gracing his face.

"I just happen to be in a good mood from the lovely night of sleep that I received last night." Anthony said with yet another smile.

"Could it be that our brother is actually in love with Miss Edwina now?" Benedict teased.

Anthony looked at Benedict and his smile faded at the mention of Edwina. She is a kind girl, just not who Anthony wants. At this, the Sharma sisters hurdle down the stairs in a fit of laughter as you were carrying a bucket of water and chasing your sisters down the stairs in hopes of soaking them. Instead, you slipped on your dress and Anthony raced to catch you before you had hit the floor. The other siblings including Anthony's watched as you let go of the bucket as it soars through the air and you land in Anthony's strong arms. You look at him and go to speak but the water bucket comes crashing down on the two of you, soaking you both completely. The bucket landed on Anthony's head and all you heard was a groan.

"My lord," You say as you shyfully lift the bucket off his head and his dark eyes peek under and make eye contact with you. His hair was ruined and your lady's maids were going to be upset that their hard work went to nothing because of how wet your hair was. You give him a light smile and just as you were getting one in return, Colin cleared his throat.

"Well, Miss Sharma, I am quite impressed with your entrances that you have been making." He smiled.

"I do try," You smile and give a bit of a bow.

"Please, Lord Bridgerton, do not think that we are always like this," Kate tried to reason, hoping that he wasn't mad.

"Miss Kate, you are quite fine. Nothing to worry about. I actually enjoyed the refreshing shower," Anthony laughed, a smile reaching his eyes when he looked at you rather than your sisters. His intended.

----

Another walk in the gardens, you take in the flowers. You didn't realize how long you were in the garden and where the path was taking you. You walk under a large tree and see something that looks like a headstone. You look around and then continue on your walk to the headstone.

"Edmund Bridgerton, Loving Father and Husband," You read on the stone and figured that this had to the man that Anthony always looked up to. This was his father.

You looked down at the flowers in your hands and then bent down to your knees and placed the flowers at the grave site. You were in the middle of a prayer when you heard footsteps. You stand up quickly and then turn to the sound. It was Lady Bridgerton.

"Viscountess-" you started. She lifted a hand to shush you.

"Please call me Violet, dear." She smiled sadly when she looked at the grave.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know and I-I-I wanted to pay my respects to him," You say with a smile.

"This is Edmund. He is my husband. Well, was my husband," The older woman smiled with a sad smile.

"You loved him very much. I can tell. I wish I could have met him," You try to make her feel better.

"Have I told you yet about how much Anthony looks after this family?" She asked.

You shook your head.

"He has been there for all of us after Edmund passed. He was only 18 at the time. God, the stress that fell onto that poor boy. He was holding Edmund when he died and...and I think that was the day that my little boy died. When Edmund left, so did a piece of my son." She said with tears.

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask kindly. You thought she would be telling Edwina.

"Miss Sharma, when Anthony says that he is going to do something, he does it. He says he is going to marry your sister so I wanted you to know that she is in good hands. Anthony is the best of my sons to marry her because there is nothing more important to Anthony than his word." Violet said, taking your hand.

"Violet, he loves her?" You ask with a tremble in your voice.

"I fear so and I have seen the way you look at my son." You looked up with confusion.

"Viscountess...Violet, I'm not understanding what you are talking about. I don't look at Anthony in any way."

"I saw you in the hallway earlier today," She said with a sad smile.

"Tha....That was an accident." You sputter out.

"Darling, I'm not talking about your situation or position. I'm talking about the look in your eyes. It's exactly how I used to look at Edmund." She pat your hand and then stood up to invite you back to the house. You followed her with your heart heavy and mind clouded.

---

Dinner was prepared and you were seated to the left from Anthony who was seated at the head of the table. You couldn't keep a smile when you looked at him because you saw how your sister looked at him. Like he hung the stars in the sky. Your stomach hurt with guilt of what had transpired between you last night.

"And Miss Sharma, I was wondering if you would like to maybe be a model for my paintings," Benedict said with a hopeful look in his eyes.

You smiled at the brother and nod.

"Of course, I have always wanted to be a model and to have my face and body drawn for me," You laugh a little and Benedict smiled and then blushed at you.

Kate smirked at you as she watched you interact with Benedict. You finished your drink and stood up. You turned to leave and kissed Benedict on the cheek. You smile at Violet and she smiled back. You left the room and that made Anthony fuming. Yes, he was supposed to marry your sister but he didn't want her. He wanted you.

Anthony excused himself from the table to follow you. He ran after you and he grabbed your elbow to keep you from going all the way up the stairs.

"Follow me," He said, pulling you down the stairs to his office and closing the door behind you.

"Yes, my lord?" You ask.

"I have been looking for you all day. God...being away from you has been driving me crazy," He says before moving to kiss your shoulder that was exposed. Your head falls back in bliss as you feel his lips ghost your sensitive skin that has only been touched by him.

"My lord-"

"Anthony, darling."

"But my lord, we need to stop." You moan out the last part when he sucks hard on your sweet spot.

"Call me by my name, Miss Sharma. My name is Anthony," He growls into your ear before picking you up and laying you down on his desk, papers sticking to your sweat-layered back.

You look down to see Anthony move under your dress. You start pulling the fabric over your stomach so that you could see his hair and you smile when he kissed your hand that was pulling at the fabric.

"My lord, we should stop. You are to be...married." Your back arched as his tongue made contact to your secret area that he was just last night and you moaned out his name as he ate you like a starved man. He dipped his tongue inside of you and your hand shoots to his hair and pulls harshly and he moans against your body.

"Anthony, oh god.'' You cry out as his finger starts to poke at your entrance and you were overcome by pleasure to even think about Edwina or Kate or what the mother of the man in between your gracious legs had said when her son is tasting you like this.

"Fuck, sweet girl. You taste divine," He groans against your pussy as he pumps in a finger before adding another. Your walls clamped tightly to his fingers and his mouth moved to your clit and starts to suck at it as his tongue flicks out to run over the sensitive bud there.

You reach up and grab a hold of your own breast as he ravages you in the best way. He starts curling his fingers to hook at that sweet, sweet pleasurable spot that laid deep inside you and you felt the coil in your stomach start to tighten to a painful blissful way as he looks up at you with deep, dark eyes that were blown with lust and you let go just at his stare alone.

"Cum for me, let me feel you. That's it. Be a good girl and let go for me. Let me taste you," He moans against you as he feels you gush around his fingers and onto his awaiting tongue. He drinks everything you have to offer until you have to push him away due to the over stimulation that happens due to his constant assault to your sensitive nerves.

He kisses up your body again and fixes your dress. You lean into his kisses and he whispers about how much he loves you before he helps clean you up. You hold onto him and he carefully takes you back to your room. You sigh because you know that you have to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this because he wants to marry your sister.

"My lord," You start.

"Anthony," He says.

"My lord," You try to continue.

"Why won't you call me Anthony unless we are private like we just were?" He said with a sad look in his eyes.

"Because you are not mine, my lord." You sigh before closing the door in his face.

---

The following day, you were walking with your family as everyone was ready to leave and head back to London. You were sad but as soon as you saw Anthony walking to you, a smile crossed your face.

"My lord," You give a bow.

"Miss Sharma," You think he was talking to you but when you turn to his voice again, he was on one knee in front of your sister.

"Miss Edwina, I think this has been a long time coming and I would love to have the honor of making you my wife," Anthony said before you let out a gasp as he opened the ring box. It was his mother's. Edmund had given it to her and now he was giving it to Edwina.

Edwina gave a yes and kissed Anthony's cheek. Not knowing that his face was just between your legs last night and the night before. She will never know and you would sit in silence. You watched the happy couple and Kate hug them both and your mother was so happy. You smile to the couple and make eye contact with Anthony. All was said in those few seconds.

"I still want you."

#anthony bridgerton x sharma!reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton x reader smut #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x reader

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causewayguy · 1 year

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Pics courtesy of a fellow follower

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You folks know how Chinese parents like to have sons instead of daughters? They will always go 'Son good', 'Son carries our family name', 'Son is better'. But there is always one very special reason most fathers want a son for, and for me, her name is Charlotte.

Charlotte is my son’s latest girlfriend. They have been together for close to 1 year now and Charlotte has recently begun to stay over. Since my wife passed many years back, having another woman in the house was super exciting - FBTs, tank-tops, thin shirts, pokies, nip slips, etc. And all these from a hot piece of ass! Charlotte was becoming my main masturbation material.

One Saturday, I was home alone while my son and Charlotte went on their date. While scrolling through Insta, I came across Charlotte’s IG story; a selfie in my son’s bedroom and a side profile picture, with her jeans showing off her juicy ass. Suddenly, an evil thought came over me and I quickly went into their room, searching for something….viola! Charlotte’s lace panties. I started jerking off with her panties while eye-fucking her IG pictures. Before long, I cum all over her white panties. An eviller idea came to mind. I folded and placed her panties on the top of the pile, hoping my fantasy would come true tomorrow.

The next morning, I woke up at the first ring of my alarm and quickly went to the living room, as Charlotte always cooks breakfast for us. There she was. She smiled and greeted me then continued cooking her scrambled eggs. Not sure which Buddha answered my prayers as a piece of egg fell on the floor and Charlotte bends down to clean it up. My eyes widen in happiness, Charlotte was wearing the panties from last night, filled with my cum! I dashed back to my room to take care of the hardening boner, and came 3 times in just 15 minutes, thinking of what had happened and what can I do further in future.

Few weeks later, the 3 of us went on a family trip. I have been busy with work and had no time to masturbate so my balls are completely full. And Charlotte being on this trip certainly helped. At the pier we visited, I imagined the wind blowing her hair back as she sucks me off in her tight tank-top and jeans. I imagined fucking her against the wall of the art museum we visited, as though she was one of art pieces for everyone to enjoy. And finally, I imagined titty fucking her fantastic C-cuppers exposed through the gap of her black top and spray my cum all over Charlotte’s face as my son was in the shower. If the trip lasted longer than a week, I would have suffered dehydration from masturbating too much to Charlotte.

However, the best was yet to come. My son can never handle his alcohol well, so usually takes an Uber whenever he and Charlotte go drinking. One night, Charlotte ringed me well past midnight. It turned out my son was so wasted that no Uber was willing to take them home. I was fuming as I had to drive all the way down to Clarke Quay to pick them up. However, my heart melted as I saw Charlotte standing there, looking all defeated as my drunk son leaned his entire weight on her.

On our way home, Charlotte apologized over and over again to me but I just smiled at her, brushing it off. What I was actually doing was stealing glances at her deep cleavage from her wraparound white top. In her tipsy state, Charlotte began complaining about work, about friends, about my son drinking too much, about how he was not satisfying her enough. The more she complained, the more body movement she made and well, the more her boobs jiggle.

Hornnnnnnn! I was so mesmerized by her boobs that I did not notice a red light and the oncoming traffic horned. On instinct, I struck out an arm while hitting the brakes, trying to protect Charlotte from falling forward. But this meant that her front body fell onto my outstretched arm.

‘Uncle are you oka- Ahhhh…’ Charlotte moaned as she finally felt my hand on her boobs. I was high on adrenaline from the near miss, so when my hand was on the boobs of my masturbation fantasy, I just squeezed. When I realized what I have done, my cock also started to rise in my shorts. I tried to pull my hand away but Charlotte kept my hand there while she stuck her other hand between her legs. Her face was filled with CFM expression. ‘Please Uncle…don’t stop now…’

Without thinking, I sped home with one hand on the wheel and the other hand ‘servicing’ Charlotte. Alternating between both boobs, I managed to peel off Charlotte’s nipple stickers and started tuning her rock hard nipples. My car was filled with erotic female moans as well as the squishing sounds of something wet. My rock-hard boner was now like another gearstick that Charlotte groped at. I felt her pumping my cock to the rhythm of the squishing sounds between her legs, adding my moans to the already erotic surround sound in the car.

Within minutes, my car was safely parked in my garage, with me fucking Charlotte over the bonnet, pulling her golden long hair.

I could feel every inch of Charlotte’s pussy as I thrusted my cock into her. I could see her boobs bouncing out of that white top of hers. I quickly grabbed them and started to pump into her faster and harder. Charlotte’s face was filled with lust and her tongue hanging out, drooling and moaning.

I started becoming the devil again.

Me: ‘Who is bigger??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle bigger~!’

Me: ‘Who is better??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle better~!’

Me: ‘Who are you??’

Charlotte: ‘I am your slut, Uncle… Don’t stop!!!’

I could feel her pussy clamping on my cock as she cum but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. With my cock still inside her, I walked (dragged) her over to the back door and opened it. Still weak from her big orgasm, Charlotte leaned forward above my drunk son with her hair flowing down to my son's face. Now, I continued to fuck her harder, right above my son!

Me: ‘Who is the guy in front of you, you slut?’

Charlotte: ‘M….my boyfriend…’

Upon hearing her answer, I pulled out immediately, leaving my cock head barely touching her pussy.

Me: ‘Again, who is he??’

Charlotte: ‘Nnooo, he’s nobody! Don’t stop plea-uuuhhhhhhh’

Charlotte whimpered loudly as I thrusted my full length into her without warning. Watching her moaned right at her boyfriend’s face while his father’s cock penetrating her from the back was too much for me. I emptied my weeks’ worth of cum into her pussy raw, triggering Charlotte’s second big orgasm. Charlotte was so fucked that she fell onto my son, panting and shaking.

We rested for a bit (and me taking a mental picture of this scene) and I carried Charlotte up to my bedroom where we made some more loving before finally dozing off in exhaustion.

One year later…

Buzz, buzzz

I received a photo from Charlotte with the caption:

‘Dear, your son passed out from drinking again. 😊 Managed to get him drunk every night of our honeymoon. But now I am super horny le… Lucky I brought the bra with your cum stain with me. Sniffed it while I masturbated last night 😉. Will wear to on the flight back to SG later too. See you soon! xoxo Charlotte’

Thank you, Son, for the world’s best daughter-in-law.

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houseofashesif · 11 months

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The mad desire for vengeance burned within you like an uncontrollable wildfire, threatening to consume all thoughts and reason with each passing day. It lashed wildly like fire accumulating within the belly of a dragon, waiting to be unleashed at those who wronged you, and your family.

But you were too weak. Too fragile, like a newborn chick. What could you possibly do in your miserable state?

Every night while the world slept, you would lie awake in your dirty cot, praying endlessly for someone to save you. Be it God or the Devil himself, you begged to be saved. To be given a second chance.

Then, your prayers were answered. Not by God but the Devil.

"I can grant you only one of your wishes, little one. So, tell me, what do you desire?"

There were a million things that you desired. A warm home. A loving family. However none of those could be compared to your life long desire.

"Vengeance."

"Are you sure that is what you desire?" You do not remember what kind of expression he had on, but the amusement was evident in his voice.

"I am." You answer firmly.

"Very well."

He held his hand out for you to grab, a final chance for you to turn back on your world. But a normal life was something you have given up on a long time ago.

You firmly grab his inviting hand, knowing fully well that there was no turning back now.

The Devil smiled wickedly.

genres ; dark, gothic fiction, romance, crime, thriller

setting ; fictional world of Celtica (loosely based on modern Britain from 1900's), Modern (at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution)

Set in the early 19th century, you play as the heir of the powerful aristocratic family of Morrigan. But your true identity is that of a fallen noble from a disgraced house. Once renowned for its art and craftsmanship, your family collapsed after falling into crippling debt following a failed business attempt and accusations of planning a coup against the royal family. At least that's what the public is aware of. However you know better than that. Your family were no traitors, they were victims of a malicious plot woven by none other than the Duke of Sinclair, once an old friend of your family. Following the false accusations your family collapsed in no time and your parents and siblings were executed publicly.

You who were the lone survivor of this massacre changed your identity for fear of being caught and killed as well, living as a coal miner in an old orphanage. You craved vengeance but what could you, a fallen noble from a disgraced house, possibly do against a Duke who is one of the pillars of the great empire and the closest associate of the Empress.

You prayed day and night to the heavenly being that watched your downfall, desperately begging to be given a second chance in life. But all seemed for naught as the days turned to weeks and weeks to years. Just when you had given up all hope for revenge, an opportunity landed before you, appearing in the form of your father and the current head of the Morrigan Duchy, Law Morrigan.

Between the two choices given to you, as to whether you'd seek justice or vengeance against your enemies, you chose vengeance.

For the past 12 years you have been trained to become the perfect killer by your father. Born with the extremely rare phenomenon known only as a 'Miracle' you have been blessed by the Murder Miracle.

Now, young heir, this is your story. Your history to be written. Will continue down your bloody warpath of vengeance and be remembered in history as the punisher of the wicked and upsurer of the monarchy, OR will you let the impartial hands of justice make their judgement to your wrong doers and be remembered as the saint of justice. The choice is yours.

House of Ashes is a dark, interactive work of fiction that takes place in the early 19th century, at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. It follows the story of vengeance in the midst of political chaos, grisly murders and schemes behind the scenes, while you have to choose between morality and desire to achieve what you want and what you believe in.

It is rated 18+ for violence, explicit themes, possible sexual content, and ofcourse, lots of blood and gore.

Customize yout heir from their name, appearance, gender identity, pronouns anf many more. Choose what your heir thinks of their family, their position and their responsibilities.

Choose a weapon and master an ancient martial art of choice. Or don't and become a jack of all trades.

Choose what kind of heir you want them become and how far you're willing to go to protect your title. Will you go for a more diplomatic approach with a case of mutual relationship with your siblings or crush them with your overwhelming strength to show your authority.

Will you choose to give in to your murderous instincts or suppress them.

Get involved in a murder investigation following a serious of gruesome serial killings, and maybe learn that there was more than what meets the eye regarding the downfall of your house.

Indulge in some romance along the way with six different characters with varying backgrounds to choose from. Or just don't.

Choose a pet cat or dog to become your acquaintance. Perhaps if you're feeling a little exotic, a hawk will do?

More features to come

The Crown Prince - Maximilian Windsor Celtica [Male]

The oldest of the Sun Twins, Crown Prince Maximilian is a very reverred personality among the nobles. He is known for his shrewdness and extremely ambitious nature. A very charismatic person, he has a way with his words which often allows others to lower their guard around him. Aiming to become the Emperor of the Celtica Empire one day, having such ambitious goals mean Maximilian is willing to do anything to achieve them. That includes sending assassins after his twin, the Crown Princess. With an analytical mind that allows him to see those inferior than him as mere pawns, falling for him is a doomed endeavor.

He is the holder of the Domination Miracle.

The Crown Princess - Victoria Windsor Celtica [Female]

The youngest of the Sun Twins, Crown Princess Victoria is often compared to her golden brother and frequently referred to as the ugly duckling of the two. An aloof individual, Victoria is a person of very few words and prefers to end things up quickly with sharp jabs and assertive speeches. Although a cold person, she has a kind side to her too, which often sees her donating large portions of her personal wealth to orphanages and charities, making her widely beloved among the citizens of the empire. Due to the frequent assassination attempts on her life, Victoria has chosen to close her heart off towards everyone, preferring to bear all the burdens on her own.

She is the holder of the Conquest Miracle.

The Fated Enemy - Cedric/Cordelia Sinclair [Gender Selectable]

Your mortal enemy. The child of the person responsible for your family's death and your misery. There are many things that you wish to address them as but cannot find the words to. That's how much you despise them. Imagine the surprise when they offered their hand for friendship to you. Contrary to how you imagine them as, like a spoiled young master from a privileged family, they're relatively humble. And also a little stupid. But behind their sunshine happy-go-lucky attitude, something much darker is lurking.

They are the holder of the Shackle Miracle.

The Best Friend - Orion/Ophelia Lancaster [Gender Selectable]

The lone, stoic heir of the righteous Lancaster Duchy, and also your best friend ever since the day you stepped foot into your new home, they are one of the few people that you trust. Although they have some trouble communicating with people regarding their feelings, they're a gentle giant compared to their intimidating features. They're also very open and blunt with their words whenever they speak so people tend to think of them as rude, not you though, you like their honesty. The two of you have stuck through the thick and thin of each other's lives like gum and even promised to do so until the end of your lives. But good things never truly last do they? A small misunderstanding which eventually gew to become a feud between the two oldest families of the empire, you wonder, what went wrong?

They're the holder of the Belief Miracle.

The Dream Demon - [???]

All dreams have a price to be paid. Are you willing to pay yours?

The Ash Demon - [???]

An old fossil, rising from the burnt ashes of your past. Do you remember me? Don't worry if you don't. I do.

DEMO || THE RO'S || THE FOUR FAMILIES || THE MIRACLE

More details on the RO's, their families and the Miracles will be added soon. Until then, i hope you like my poor attempt for an IF 🥲

#if wip #house of ashes #house of ashes if #interactive fiction #cyoa game #interactive if #choice script #dark fantasy #crime thriller #mystery

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justsomegdude · 4 months

Text

Pass the time.

Leader!Negan x Alexandria!Gn!Reader

summary: Negan visits alexandria for his weekly supply and decides to flirt with y/n to pass the time.

warning: Negan is a warning in himself, sexual tension!

A/N: Who knows i might make a part two to this. i wrote all of this today because i felt bad that i hadn’t posted since last month!

The weeks seem to just play on repeat when Negan comes to visit. He pesters Rick, Gets his men to get the supplies, Sometimes dealing with conflict depending on what happens in the day. As the familiar sounds of trucks come into earshot, Alexandria’s residents went silent and most went inside houses instantly, The kids rounded up by their parents and forced inside too.

You stopped caring about hiding from Negan weeks ago now, before anytime you saw his face you would remember the ones who you lost by his hands, rather by his ‘most precious lucille’s’ hands. Now? You don’t think about what you’ve lost by him, instead about what you could still lose. You’re close to Rick and his family since you’ve been in his group for years now. So you always make sure Carl and Judith aren’t in harms way.

The gates were opened by spencer, to allow Negan and his men to step foot inside. Familiar whistle ringing through your ears, you turn away to stay on the porch of the house you were gratefully allowed to stay in. If someone needed you, they’d come to find you. You watched Negans men start spreading out into a few groups going to the only places they really take from now, The pantry being the most common. Although it is rare for them to venture into the infirmary, weaponry, or houses, they’ll do it every so often.

Your eyes connected with Negans accidentally. You groan to yourself that he was most likely watching you for a minute before you noticed. Now you wish you’d just stay inside, hoping that he wouldn’t come up. Your prayer was answered and somehow, Negan didn’t come up to you. Instead he strutted over to the pantry along with Rick close but clearly at distance. Sometime you wonder how Negan took Rick by the balls and twisted him into submission.

He used to never be anything but the leader since you met him at the farm. When he was diffusing conflict, helping hershel, beth, maggie, even me. Or how he had killed Shane the night the barn was burned down.. He was always meant to be a leader, so how Negan took control of Rick, it was scary in a way.

You didn’t even realize you started day dreaming until you heard noises, loud noises, from over at the pantry. Instantly standing up to get a good view, Negan seemed to be upset at Olivia, that poor girl. A slow pace towards the pantry to see what’s happening.

“Why can’t you do your job right?” Negans voice spoke menacingly as he leaned in, more so over, Olivia to scare her. Rick was seen near Olivia trying to get Negan to calm down. “Rick, you should really consider a new manager of the food around here, clearly she doesn’t take enough responsibility!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, quickening your pace a little so you were a few feet away from Negan, and Rick. “What’s happening?” You spoke.

Negan turned on his heels towards you. “Little miss manager-of-food, over here didn’t count her supplies correctly!” He said fast, looking back at Rick, then Olivia. “You’re lucky i’m feeling generous today, or else i’d do something physical about this.” Negan seemed more frustrated rather than angry, of course he didn’t care if there was a missing can, he just hated how often people around here wouldn’t do their jobs correctly. “I’m taking an extra can for this… waste of time.” Negan snapped and his men were instantly on it and grabbed an extra can, along with the others already taken and left in a hurry towards the trucks.

You hated this little game Negan played at, his boundaries were but also weren’t set. You wanted to speak up, tell him off, but of course you knew better.

“I’ll be taking a trip to the infirmary next week. If the person who works there, messes up, someone will die.” Negan spoke firmly and with that turned on his heels and walked towards his trucks. Your eyes connect with Ricks, and then you looked at Olivia.

Rick was the next to leave towards the gate, probably the one to close it behind the saviors today. Olivia was crying, she was so sensitive you felt bad for her. “Olivia…” You said her name quietly and went over to put your hand on her shoulder. “It’s just Negan being Negan, you don’t have to cry over it..” You put on the best reassuring voice you could. Olivia nodded and wiped her tears.

“I swear i counted correctly this time..” Olivia’s voice was cracking, and soft. She meant it, and you felt bad for her.

“Hey it’s—“ you were cutoff by someone yelling your name. “Sorry Olivia gotta check on what that’s about-“ With that you left with a quick pace towards the yell, the main gate.

“Y/N!” Yelled again, now closer you knew the root of the noise. Rick. Now jobbing over towards Rick. The gate was closed and the trucks were gone, the saviors already left. “y/n.” He spoke lowly. “We got a team heading out in a few hours for a supply run nearby, i’m going with. I need you to stay with Carl and Judith for me, okay?” Rick smiled. This wasn’t a reason to yell your name, so you softly shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I didn’t know if you were still at the pantry or not, sorry if it seemed like i was in need.”

With a sigh you looked back up at Rick. “Yeah i can watch them. Come find me next time, thought i was in trouble or someone else was.” He nodded in understanding. “I gotta get to the infirmary, check on those supplies for next week’s visit from Negan, come by when you’re leaving so i can head over.

As you sat down in your chair at the infirmary, checking over supplies. You weren’t like Olivia, you’d triple check everything even when one thing is added to the supply, you’ll check everything again. It was one of the things to cure your boredom or when, cases like this, happen. Your feet propped up on your desk while there was a box in your lap. You organize everything about twice a week now. It was just a way to pass time. Sitting at your desk for hours now, you lost track of time until there was a knock at your door, writing down the count you had, and then separating the counted vs uncounted so you could finish later.

“y/n?” Rick voice was heard as you walked towards the door. The door creaked while you opened it. “Hey! We’re getting ready to leave in a few minutes here, you got-“ You cut him off.

“Watch over Carl and Judith, yep!” You smiled, and grabbed your notebook from your desk. “I’ll head over now.” Ricks hand went to your shoulder.

“Thanks y/n, i know i can count on you.” Rick spoke, leaving shortly before you did.

Over the week, since Negans visit, you’ve checked the infirmary multiple times. You didn’t want to lose anyone. Negans patterns on showing up varied, sometimes he’ll show up days early, or days later. Shocking enough, he visited exactly a week from lasts visit. He had to mean business on what he said with the stock. Quickly making your way to the infirmary, to avoid them going through it without you.

Once inside the infirmary, and since you already checked the stock many.. many times, you sat on your desk and were just doodling in your notebook. You kept that notebook on you almost all the time, there were doodles and sayings, but you also kept things special to you written in it, people’s names, items from your childhood, it was just a reminder for yourself that there are good things to think about in this new world.

You heard a knock at the door, assuming it was Rick you just said, “Come in.”, still doodling in your book. Once the door opened the footsteps that followed were heavier than Ricks. Your eyes shot up and instantly connected with the man just a few feet from you. Negan. “oh, i thought-“ You started but it would sound dumb so you didn’t finish. Closing your notebook and setting it aside.

“You thought..?” Negans eyebrows raise as he takes a slow, dragging, walk over to you. Intimidation tactic that didn’t quite work on you.

“I thought you were Rick.” You spoke truthfully, you didn’t have a reason to lie, but you did have a reason not to tell him. He nodded and leaned against your desk.

There was an uncomfortable silence. How to stop it, not sure. You felt him staring so you looked up at him. connecting with his hazel eyes, that you damned yourself for realizing the color of. “So Ricky the Pricky got you doing infirmary work?” Negans voice filled up the silence, you couldn’t tell if silence or his voice were worse.

“I enjoy it, and am probably the only one to actually know what they’re doing.. so yeah?” You said back, finally forcing your eyes out the window instead of at him.

Your peripheral though, kept him in view. you saw his face rise up and you glanced at him. he was smirking. Knowing a stupid remark was coming. “Are you calm around me, or are you just the shy type?” That wasn’t that you expected of him.

“What?” Your eyebrows stitch together as you looked back at him, this time his eyes trained on the floor.

He clicked his tongue before talking again. “most people here, would be glaring up a storm. talking me out of being in the same room as them.“ He finally met your eyes. He was smiling, his stupid usual smile. “Hell, some would flip me the bird by now. Not you, why?” He was one for always keeping eye contact, so you did too.

You took a little longer to answer, thinking of an appropriate response. “I don’t know.” You shrugged. What were you supposed to say? The reason people cower away is because well.. they’re cowards. You’ve been put in situation and Negan, as intimidating as he is to eveyrone, doesn’t intimidate you. “Why should i be scared, when all you’re doing is sitting… well leaning, next to me.” Was all the reason you could muster up.

This made Negan let out a laugh. “Honestly i’d get upset if you were scared of me.. you’re such a pretty (girl/boy) I mean, why would i want someone like you scared of me?” He flirted, you don’t know if it was to purposely make you uncomfortable, or just him being bored, hell maybe he just wanted to flirt with you. you didn’t know. Finally breaking eye contact to look down. “Ah, did i strike a little sensitive spot? can’t handle being complimented?” Negan was talking in a way that made you feel like you were being made fun of. He was just playing his game, this wasn’t anything to do with you in specific.

Your view was set onto the floor under your feet. Not looking back up at him. You didn’t want to reply until he took a gentle grasp of your jaw and made you look at him. “Don’t get all shy now.” His voice was low and raspy, purposely sending a shiver down your spine. He kept his firm grip, and stared into your eyes.

“I..” you started quietly, you don’t know what to say. “It was just..” You paused, not knowing how to word it. “I just don’t get compliments a lot, and it’s weird coming from you..” You spoke truthfully.

He hummed quietly, nodding. Still not letting go of your jaw. He wanted you to look at him. “You’re trembling.” He smirked, you didn’t even realize but when you did your mouth opened to say something, but Negan being faster. “I bet i could get you wrapped around my finger if i tried. Compliment you more.” His smirk increased as he leaned in. it was only teasing.. he’d never actually kiss you.

“Negan..” You whispered his name. He shushed you, his hand moving from grasping your jaw into pinching your chin in between his pointer and thumb. He lifted your head up a little.

Negan moved his body to standing before you, his grip still just as firm. Subconsciously your legs separated as you leaned back just a little, a way to get further away from him. He took this as an invitation, stepping in between your legs. His hand went to the table right next to your hip, leaning over you now.

“Do i scare you y/n y/l/n?” Negan spoke. Your breathing quickened. Maybe you were uncomfortable, or maybe you somehow found this attractive. He leaned over just a little more, his thighs rubbing against yours a bit.

Negan licked his lips. “No.. of course not.” You spoke, less firm than you wanted too. “I’m just…” You actually didn’t know what to say.

Negans hand slid from the table onto your thigh. His eyes went to his own hand before back to your eyes. “so if you’re not scared.. why is your breath heavy?” He smirked, knowing how he affected you.

Your eyes went to his arm, since his hand was still on your chin you couldn’t quite look completely at where his hand laid. Negan finally let go of your chin. No response from you.

“Speak when spoken to.” He spoke, you leaned up to sit a little more comfortably, even though getting closer to Negan. His thumb rubbed your thigh, made you even more speechless.

“I’m.. awkward, under the circumstances.” you whispered, you watched his thumb rub at your thigh. “Why are you doing this..?” You tilted your head.

He leaned closer now your lips only a few inches apart. “Because you’re letting me.” His gripped your thigh now instead of rubbing it. No one’s touched you like this and you didn’t know how to react. “Can i kiss you?” His voice was quiet, his eyes weren’t looking away from your lips.

You didn’t know, you wanted it but remembering who he was your hand went to his chest and gently pushed him back. “This is a bad idea.” Negan only smirked at your response. His hand stoped holding your thigh, grabbing the bottles of medicine and stepping back.

“Well i hope to see you around y/n. Keep me and what i just did in your thoughts.” He winked, leaving the infirmary. Instant regret with how you just rejected something that you most definitely wanted. You damned yourself for being scared.

tag list :)!!

@pinchofhoney / @starstruck-loner

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan #negan smith #the walking dead negan #twd negan #jdm #jdmorgan #negan smith x reader #negan x female reader #negan x male reader #jeffreymorgan #negan x you

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

Note

Hi baby!!

Mice been thinking abt Peter Fucking you in a library lately..

Give me thoughts??

i have plenty!

STUDY BUDDY- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Uni! Nerd! Boyfriend! Peter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 885

Summary: some innocent studying with your nerdy boyfriend leads to a quick hookup in the library :)

Warnings: SMUT, finger sucking, praise kink, voyeurism, sight degradation kink, swearing, teasing, dumbification kink, lots of pet names, and a special guest!

blue shirt look bc its my favourite and it makes me need himsobad

“I-I really gotta get back to my work Pete-” you gasped, the harsh pinch of your teeth biting down to meet your lower lip reminding you to keep your voice hushed.

The dark mahogany dug into your palms as you gripped the shelf, cracked spines and weathered pages meeting your gaze before you shut your eyes. It smelt of old books and Peter, his arms caging you in, leaving you nowhere to go but with him.

It had been smooth sailing for over an hour, the two of you nestling in together at a little table in the back of the old, quaint library. Surrounded by nothing but old wooden shelves and golden yellow oil lamps, it was a little haven for the two of you to get caught up on overdue assignments.

His work was a mystery to you- all the letters and numbers blurring together as he scratched away equations on the paper, fidgeting as he adjusted his glasses and rolled up his sleeves.

Books were pushed to the side after some time, his hand finding its way to your thigh, smirking as you slid your legs over his thigh to let your feet kick and dangle.

There was no point trying to focus anymore. You were entranced by him, lost in the idea of him- head in the clouds as you felt his fingers trace little outline drawings on your bare thigh, still focusing on his work.

From there, it was a mystery. He had you trapped, stuck between him as you felt the prominent bulge from his jeans slide against your skirt, making you shiver.

“Were you ever really doing any work in the first place? Or just twirling your hair and batting me those eyes so I’d get distracted?”

“I don't know what you're talking about…” you trailed off softly, breath caught in your throat as his soft lips met your neck- teasing you.

“Mmm don’t be so silly now sweetheart. You’re my smart girl, aren't you?”

You nodded. He smirked. It was as simple as that with you, hanging off his every word. “So don’t act stupid. I taught you better than that, ya know.” he quipped, in his charming, boyish ways- hand slipping down towards your skirt.

“We shouldn't do that here!” you huffed as his fingers traced those same little patterns he was on your skin earlier on your dampening panties.

“Oh baby when has that ever stopped you before? I thought you liked this hm? You wanna show everyone what a good lil girl you are?”

“We can’t-”

“Or are you too shy?” he continued, his belt jangling as he unbuckled it, seeming to echo off each pane of stained glass. “I know you're shy but not that shy baby. We’ve done it soo many times when you've been a little slut it public- haven't we? In my car, in the empty classroom or mmm the bathroom at your family gathering?”

You whimpered in response, words failing you. Your head fell limp as his chest was flush with your back, trapping you against the bookcase- bookspines nearly digging into your cheek.

“Shh you're fine. You want my fingers?” he asked softly, his low voice soothing you as he slowly slipped two fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue before he slid himself in.

Your eyes widened as he moaned, slowly brushing against your insides- savouring how pure you felt around him. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck-” he chanted like a prayer, and you sucked harder on his fingers to stifle the noises you so desperately wanted to release.

Drool began to pool from your lips, coating the long digits as your eyes rolled, his dick fully inside you, panties somewhere down your thighs. You hoped it was empty in here. Because the idea of someone walking in on this made your head spin.

“Mhmm-” you gagged as he slowly slipped out of you, pumping back in with such force you thought you’d topple over if it wasn't for him holding you upright.

“This is your fault ya know. If you weren't such a damn tease…” he murmured softly, making you shake your head.

“Yes, yes it is. We could’ve been studying angelface, and because youre such a precious lil slut- we’re in this mess hm?” he sighed, breathing in the smell of your sweet, saccharine perfume that mixed with his cologne, the smell of him on you driving him wild.

Before you knew it, the book in front of you had slid off the shelf- and you saw fingers grab the book across from it to clear a direct pathway for a face you knew all too well.

A smirk was plastered across his face, eyebrows raising as you heard the air whoosh through his nostrils as he breathed you in.

“Well ain't this somethin else?” a low voice whistled.

“She’s shy Matty don’t scare her.” Peter replied, cocky as ever as he watched his best friend unfold you like a present- but knew deep down he could never have it. He was dangling bait in front of him.

“M-Matt?” you croaked out softly, stuttering as Peter continued to use you, fingers slipping out of your mouth.

“What’d ya doin there love?” he cooed.

“Studyin-” you choked out, making Peter laugh. “Oh she’s studyin alright.”

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slvthrs · 1 year

Note

can you do a full smut where yn is so overwhelmed and frusturated over some family problems and vinnie makes her relax

yes cause i have family problems rn lolz, i went SO overboard w this, its 1k words lol

┆.° ♡ — NSFW UNDER THE CUT

University sucks. The assignments, the pressure, and it gets even worse when your dad enters the mix

You've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Your dad has been putting a lot of pressure on you to get good grades and make something of yourself, and your boyfriend Vinnie has been trying to be supportive, but he just doesn't seem to understand how stressed out you feel.

Your relationship with your dad has always been strained, your two very different people and whenever you were growing up your dad could never come to terms with the fact that you weren't the perfect angel he wanted as a daughter.

You're sitting on the couch in your apartment, flipping through your phone and trying to distract yourself from your problems, when Vinnie walks in the door. He takes one look at your face and knows immediately that something's wrong.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, coming over to sit next to you on the couch.

You tell him about the fight you had with your dad earlier in the day. He'd been lecturing you about your grades again, telling you that you needed to work harder if you wanted to get anywhere in life. You were so frustrated that you ended up storming out of the house without saying anything.

Vinnie listens patiently as you vent your frustrations. He knows that your dad means well, but he also knows how much pressure you're under and how you and your dads relationship has always been riddled with problems. When you finish talking, he takes your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"Listen, I know it's hard right now," he says. "But you're doing great. You're smart, and you're talented, and you're going to go places. Don't let your dad get you down."

You feel a little bit better after hearing Vinnie's kind words, but you're still wound up from the argument. Vinnie notices this too, and he suggests that the two of you do something to take your mind off things.

"Hey c'mere baby." He coos pulling you towards him.

He suggests a movie night just for the two of you and you pick some cheesy hallmark movie to watch with him and he gets the snacks ready as you situate yourselves on your couch.

As the film starts, you try to focus on the plot, but your mind keeps wandering. You feel Vinnie's arm around you, and you lean into him, hoping that his warmth will calm your racing thoughts.

As the show progresses, you find yourself getting more and more into it. The tension builds as the characters face their own challenges and conflicts. You can't help but feel invested in their stories and their struggles.

Suddenly, you feel Vinnie's hand on your leg. You look up at him and see that his eyes are fixed on the screen, but you can tell that he's feeling the same tension that you are. You feel a flush creeping up your neck and a fluttering in your stomach.

As the movie reaches its climax, Vinnie turns to you and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. You respond eagerly, feeling all of your stress and worries melt away. You let yourself get lost in the moment, enjoying the feeling of being so close to someone you care about.

All the stress and anxiety you were feeling before disappears as you melt into Vinnie's embrace. The show is long forgotten as your body responds to his touch. You feel alive and present in the moment, completely consumed by the passion between the two of you.

"Shit princess, I hate seeing you hurt." He's gentle words compliment the way he pushes you on the couch for you to lay down and he kisses down the column of your neck.

"Vin..." You breath out

"Yes baby," His reply is instant as he locks his eyes with yours.

"Make me feel better."

"Anything for you." The words come out of his mouth like a prayer as lips trail down the curves of your body pulling off your bra and latching onto your nipples.

His kisses trail down to your nipples causing your body to go cold, his tongue rolls your bud and catches your nipples in his teeth.

"Vinnieeee" You whine as he continue the motion, he's so sweet with the way he makes you arch your back and stuff your chest into his face.

His lips finally detach from your chest and he trails his kisses down the plush of your stomach, pulling your shorts and panties of in one swift motion.

The kisses don't stop until he reaches your cunt, his left hand holds your hips down whilst you use your hands to pull his right hand up and start dragging your tongue along the length of his knuckles.

It catches his attention enough that he stops his kisses and sits up, starting intently at your actions.

You take his ring and middle finger into your mouth as you bat your eyelashes up at him, you suck on them not taking your eyes of Vinnie's as he's staring so hard that it looks like he's trying to commit the image to memory.

"Shit baby you look so pretty I'm forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing here" He lets out with a chuckle

You pull his fingers out of your mouth with a pop! and lean up to kiss him before you lay back down.

It's like the kiss rewires his brain since he remembers what he's doing again and situates himself in between your thighs one more.

His tongue drags through your folds, making you squirm above him and he uses both his hands to keep your thighs spread apart for him as the sounds of him eating you out along with your moans echo in the room.

Your thighs tremble and delicate moans fill Vinnie's ears as he sucks your clit causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and just chuckles before continuing with his motions.

It's not long before your jerking your hip forward and arching into his mouth and cumming on his face.

He pushes your legs apart to get up and leans over to you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before getting up to grab you a towel but not before taking his shirt of and tossing it to you to put it on.

He comes back to see you laying on the couch but instead with his shirt on and he quickly cleans you up and then sits down next to you whilst simultaneously pulling you towards him.

"Oh wait look at this!" He exclaims whilst pulling out your favourite drink from behind him

"Oh my good baby, you remembered!" You beam grabbing the drink and opening it.

"Of course I did, I love you princess." He responds kissing you again.

"You taste like my cum by the way." You say as you pull apart from the kiss

"Good that means I did my job right."

#bella fawns over vhacker #vinnie hacker smut #vinnie hacker x reader smut #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagines #vhackerr #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker oneshot #vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie x reader #vinnie imagines #vinnie

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changetyre · 1 month

Text

Not like this (P3) II Charles Leclerc x Reader (Mafia AU)

SUMMARY: After losing everything you seek out your biggest and longest-standing enemy to finish it all.

WARNING: Violence, blood, mentions of death

A/N: This one's also short but I've been super busy and haven't had much time to write so this was the best I could do ;(

"For the record, I don't think this is a good idea" Charles spoke as he drove through the familiar streets at night, the two cars behind him containing some of his own men the only thing in sight.

"You invited yourself so you don't get to opine." You refuted.

"This is my car, you're carrying my guns and wearing clothes that I bought you I think I have enough reason to opine." Charles bit back.

"No one told you to let me live...in fact, I told you to kill me so you chose that yourself-" You were going to argue.

"Shut up we're here." Charles interrupted you before you could carry on.

You saw him drive into a hidden road that led to your house which you believed only very few people knew about not including him. "How did you?" You turned to him as he continued driving.

Charles smirked but kept his eyes on the road. "You're not the only sneaky one here."

"Stop the car here, we'll have to walk the rest of the way if we want to go unnoticed." You chose to ignore his previous comment as you were coming closer to your estate.

You both got out of the car and stayed close to the tree line as you approached the house, Charles's men surrounding the other side of the estate in case they saw anything.

"Why the fuck do you need this much land," Charles complained as he wiped some sweat off his forehead from how long you'd been walking.

"More space more control, more people less possibility of someone entering without me knowing...more control." You once again repeated his own words adjusting them slightly earning a glare from him.

"Well obviously that logic didn't work...did it?" Charles also used your own words against you but you had to admit it hurt more than you'd imagined.

Charles noticed how you found no humor in his words instead clearing your throat to disguise the knot that intended to build in it.

"Obviously not." You said in a volume that Charles wouldn't have heard if the silence around you hadn't been so significant.

You were finally coming up on the house and your breath hitched at the bodies you could see laying by the stairs leading up to the main door.

"Are they-" But before Charles could finish asking you'd already run up the closest body.

"Oh my god Ava." You placed your hand on the woman's cheek who lay lifeless right in front of you.

Charles kept a look out at your surroundings making sure nobody was watching now that you were in plain sight and luckily the place seemed to have been abandoned after the attack.

You then quickly moved on to the next bodies by the stairs. "Elijah...Michael." You closed their eyes saying a small prayer hoping they'd found rest.

"You knew all of their names?" Charles asked in a quiet tone not wanting to disturb the silence.

"There might've been a lot of people working for me...but they were all family. Every single one of them." Charles didn't miss the way a tear fell before you wiped your eyes quickly.

You continued your way into the house in the same silence as before not taking it for granted that you hadn't seen or heard anyone around so far. Inside it was worse than outside, with bodies everywhere it was impossible not to step on the blood that had filled the once-white floors.

Charles let you take your time noticing the way you struggled to continue without at least sparing a glance at the men and women who only a few hours before were guarding you.

"I'm-" Charles wasn't sure what to say but maybe letting you hear he was sorry for you would make it better except he didn't get the opportunity.

"Let's go upstairs." You shut him down before he could even get a word in.

Charles could see his men come in from the back door and signaled for them to have a look around downstairs to which they happily obliged. He followed you upstairs as you moved through the space with ease until arriving at what he would assume was your room.

He watched as your hand dropped to your side, the gun you held almost slipping from your grasp as you took in the state of your once sacred space but even more so the woman who lay dead by the foot of your bloodied bed.

It took him completely by surprise when you dropped to your knees in front of the woman and saw how your body shook with the tears you were finally letting escape.

Charles didn't know what to do so simply stepped closer hoping you were able to feel his presence wondering if it had all become too much or if this had been someone truly special.

"Her name was Liz- Elizabeth." You began. "She...she was like a mother to me and-" the knot in your throat stopped you for a second. "She helped me escape. She ran to my room as soon as she heard the attack and found me trying to get my guns to fight back but-" your tears increased as you remembered. "She told me to go. She said they could handle it and that I should go." You rested your forehead against Elizabeth in tears. "I knew what would happen and I still left."

Charles wasn't sure what he was feeling but he had a sudden urge to hug you an urge he would've acted upon if it hadn't been for his men running into the room.

"Gens arrivent." They whispered, guns drawn.

"We have to go c,mon." Charles lowered himself to your level.

You clutched Elizabeth a little harder before placing a kiss on her cold and colorless cheek and leaving her behind.

"Someone's coming, there's cars," Charles whispered to you as he could see the headlights through the window of her room.

"Come." You took his hand dragging him with you.

You entered your bathroom and Charles was convinced you had gone insane if it hadn't been for the fact that you pulled your whole bathroom sink and counter out to reveal a hidden passage.

"What the-" He was impressed.

His men ran through and ahead but Charles stared at the door in awe.

"Hurry!" You whispered pushing him in before following yourself and closing the door behind you.

As soon as she shut the door the dark passage illuminated revealing a long and dark corridor. "This is how I escaped."

"You walked all the way from here to my place with a gunshot wound through your stomach," Charles asked as you began to walk through the passage.

"Adrenaline can make you do crazy things." You responded not bothering to look back at him.

"Why exactly did you go to my place?" Charles rushed to catch up to you.

"I told you, I wanted you to kill me." You once again avoided his eyes.

"If you wanted to die you would've simply let yourself bleed out" Charles grabbed your arm stopping you from walking.

"Wouldn't have been an honorable death." You finally faced him.

"The way I plan to kill you isn't either" You didn't respond and instead there were a few seconds of silence between you both before Charles continued. "so why?"

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #changetyre #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #f1 series #f1mafia #charlesleclerc #chalresleclercmafia #mafiaau #f1mafiaau #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x mafia

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reyalvr · 1 year

Text

IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL | 1

୨⎯ in which a reef boy seeks to prove himself worthy of a forest girl’s attention. ⎯୧

genre┊ slight slowburn, angst, & e2l, idiots-to-lovers, fluff, two-shot (?)

pairing┊ao’nung x fem-sully!reader

wordcount┊6.3k

warnings┊ movie spoilers

author’s note┊ yipee first fic on a new blog! hoping this doesn’t flop, but whatever happens, happens ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ. this also wasn’t proofread that well, so apologies if there are any mistakes <//3 this was inspired by this scene from the first avatar movie. i personally think ao’nung is better as neytiri’s counterpart but that’s just me :p happy reading!

song recs┊happiness is simple, becoming one of “the people”, goodnight sweet possums.

《✧》, 《✧✧》

The ocean breeze was cool against your skin, the water rippling around you as you rode atop your ilu. It would have been relaxing, had you not been actively searching for your idiot brother. Though the tides were calm, the sea blended into the vastness of the night sky. You found it difficult to navigate the waters, unable to tell where the sea ended and where the sky started.

However tired you were, you pushed forward, determined to find Lo’ak and bring him back to the village safely. Everything happened in a blur – Ao’nung’s words sending you and your family into a frenzy, you hastily getting onto an ilu and riding out into the ocean. Your brother had sought out the reef boy to apologize for the events that occurred earlier that day, under strict orders from your father to reconcile with the chief’s son.

That order was directed at you too, though you had no intention of following through with it. Rarely did you ever go against your dad, but this time you had good reason to do so. Ao’nung and his friends had deserved what had happened to them, and no way in hell were you going to succumb to his antics simply because of his rank in the clan.

Ignoring your anger you called out into the silent air, waiting desperately for a call back. Lo’ak was a pain at times, but at the end of the day he was still your brother – your twin brother. He knew you better than anyone else and vice versa. If anything happened to him you would never forgive yourself – he was your responsibility as much as you were his. The bond between twins was forever sacred, and losing your other half would destroy you in ways nobody would be able to understand.

Your ilu started to thrash, signaling to you that she felt your worriedness and exhaustion. You stroked her head, assuring her that she would be able to rest soon. You wanted to believe that as well, believe that you would spot your brother any time now and leave your worries in the past. You said a silent prayer to Eywa, hoping that She would guide you to him.

The will of the Great Mother flowed through all of the People, and Her will gave you the strength you desperately needed. As you turned to check behind some of the rocks, you caught a glimpse of a bioluminescent path fading away as you continued to near them. You saw him then, sitting on a rock catching his breath. You nearly flew off your ilu as you raced towards him, calling his name in relief.

“Lo’ak!” You yelled as you threw your arms around him, your heart beating erratically, unable to handle all of the emotions you were feeling. When you finally let him out of your grasp, you smacked him on the head before checking to make sure he was alright.

“You are an idiot,” You said as you examined his body for wounds, making sure that there weren’t any serious ones. “What were you thinking! I told you it was useless to reconcile with that asshole.”

He shook his head and placed a hand on your arm to reassure you that he was fine. “I know, but really sister, I am fine.”

His calm demeanor was startling – in no way was he displaying any sort of fear or distress. It bothered you slightly, your brother wasn’t one to stay silent about anything. You tried to show that you understood, but you knew that he could see past the feigned look of acceptance on your face.

Wasting no more time, you called out for your ilu and made sure that Lo’ak was secured properly before swimming back to the village.

When you arrived, your father was the first to greet you guys, his arms instantly wrapping around both of you. He took a good look at Lo’ak and then you, and you could see the look of relief as he realized that Lo’ak was unharmed and you were fine. While he pulled your brother to the side to further examine him, you finally felt the gazes of the villagers all over you.

You wanted to run away — you hadn’t gotten used to the stares yet, and you figured you never would. But you stood your ground, opting not to hide behind your brother and father. You caught the stare of a particularly familiar Metkayinan boy. You nearly hissed, your suppressed anger bubbling to the top of your head.

“You!” You yelled, your voice laced in venom as you started for Ao’nung. He stepped back, a defensive reaction as he hadn’t expected you to go after him in front of everyone.

Before you could do anything else, you felt someone pull you back. You were about to shake out of their grasp until you realized it was your mother. Slowly, you yielded any efforts to fight against her.

“Ma’ite,” She warned, her tone soft yet stern. “Be calm, my daughter. Do not be rash.”

You swallowed any form of retort back — your mother was right to stop whatever outburst you were about to have. It was not wise to cause a scene, especially after what had just happened.

You sighed, closing your eyes and bowing your head in response. With your mother reassured, she rushed over to Lo’ak and your father. You could hear her scold him, threatening to pluck his eyes out. You wanted to defend him, call out the real cause of this situation. But you held your tongue instead, tapping your foot unsteadily and swinging your tail back and forth. You looked up at Ao’nung and watched as he hung his head in shame.

Serves him right. You wondered if he actually felt sorry for his actions or if he was just sorry that he was caught. It was most likely the latter — Ao’nung was set on making your lives a living hell the moment you landed in Awa’atlu.

“My son knows better than to take him outside the reef.” Tonowari announced suddenly, his voice booming in the night. “The blame is his.”

Ao’nung was now bent on one knee, his head still hung in shame. He refused to look at anything but the ground, and he especially did his best to avoid your searing gaze. Seeing him pay for his antics was rewarding, and you could finally feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

The feeling went away as soon as it came though, as Lo’ak had decided to speak on behalf of Ao’nung. “No, this is not Ao’nung’s fault. This was my idea.”

You immediately grabbed his arm, pulling him to face you. You hissed his name quietly, trying to stop him from doing whatever it was that he was planning. He could not take the blame for this – it was not right. You weren’t gonna allow Ao’nung to walk away from this unscathed, hell, you weren’t gonna let him walk away at all.

“My brother is lying.” You said, cutting off whatever excuse your brother was about to spew out of his mouth. “He was tricked, deceived-”

“I am not lying, I speak the truth.” He said, ignoring your menacing glare. He gave you a look as if to say leave it be. “Ao’nung tried to talk me out of it.”

You let go of your brother’s arm, fury taking over your body. Eywa give you the strength, you could not believe that he was willingly defending the very boy who had left him out there to die. Your father quickly ushered the both of you out of the crowd, apologizing to Tonowari in the process.

You could hear the hushed interrogation of Tonowari and Ronal as you passed, asking him if it were true. You saw him glance at you from your peripheral, but you made no move to do the same. Of course he was gonna use the cover-up your brother provided for him, he would be a fool not to.

But he would be a coward if he did. You held your head up high, wishing that after this you wouldn’t have to deal with his torment anymore.

When you were far enough away from the crowd, Lo’ak had gotten another scolding from your dad. He gave no fight, no argument against the warning your father had strictly given him. When all was said and done he simply walked away, his face void of any emotion.

With Lo’ak gone your dad turned his attention towards you. “And you,” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What were you thinking, going out there? I told you to stay put but you rode out without any warning.”

Unlike your brother you didn’t hang your head low, nor did you remain silent. “He is my brother, father. My twin. You cannot expect me to just sit around and do nothing. And if I recall, I was the one who found him and brought him back.”

Your father’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and you could tell that your attitude was causing him to reach his tipping point. Your ears went down as you stopped yourself from arguing any further, not wanting to cause your parents any more stress. Your father was quiet, though his stare felt like a thousand poisoned-tipped arrows driving into your heart.

“I just wanted to make sure he was alright. That is all.” You kept your head down this time, your tone less defensive.

“Just go, get some rest. Do not get into any more trouble.” Was all your father said in response, turning to look away from you.

You sighed heavily as you walked away, your heart heavy and your mind clouded. Even in the safety of your family’s marui, their presence was a heavy reminder of the shame you and your brother had brought upon them. As you laid in your hammock, you tried to will away any lingering thoughts of the day. It would do you no good, this self pity.

The next day, you were up before everyone else. You kept quiet as you crept out of the pod, your footsteps light and weightless. Once you were outside you took a moment to appreciate the village at this hour, basked in a comforting dimness and solitude.

It was a nice feeling in contrast to the day before; even if it was just for a brief moment. You continued on your way, heading straight for the cliff formation that stood tall at the end of the beach. It merged straight into the forest, which gave you easy access to the ikrans and the trees. You had discovered the path a few weeks ago, back when you were still learning the ways of the Metkayina.

You had fallen off your ilu countless of times, each failure met with wicked laughs from Ao’nung and his circle of friends. You were embarrassed to say the least, but you stayed for the rest of the session. Giving into their torment would have only made them happier.

So when your training finally ended, you wasted no time in rushing out of the water. You had no destination in mind, your body only moving to get away. Then when you suddenly came face to face with the large rock that seemed desolate, you took it as a sign from Eywa that it would be your new getaway.

As you climbed your way up, the sunrise followed you soon after. You could feel the sun’s rays on your back, gracing you with a warm embrace. Only when you were at the top were you finally able to take in the view.

Catching the sunrise was always a sight to behold, but it felt extra special knowing that you were alone in your peace, able to enjoy the moment on your own. You watched as the water reflected the sun’s rays, the sea glimmering like a mythical portal into another world.

And you supposed that it actually was; the sea was a whole nother world, its waters harboring all sorts of life. You watched as a tsurak leaped out of the water, its bright orange wings spreading out widely before diving back into the ocean. The wildlife of Awa’atlu never ceases to amaze you – most especially tales of the tulkun that were told to you by Tsireya and Rxoto.

You thought back to the night where Tsireya had introduced the topic of kinship bonds between the Metkayina and the tulkuns. It reminded you of your own bonding ceremony, the Iknimaya. However different your worlds were, there would always be similar aspects to the way of life.

You shared the longing feeling with them, missing your spirit bond. Though your ikran wasn’t away for migration, it had been a while since the last time you took your banshee out for a flight. Back at home, you would take her out for rides almost every single day, slowly becoming one of the best taronyus your clan had ever seen since the days before the war.

Your beautiful banshee had chosen you before you had even properly stood your ground during your ceremony. You remembered the first time you had ridden her on your own – it was like a match made in heaven between you two. All hunters shared one mind with their ikran after tsaheylu, but your connection was different.

Even before you bonded with her before rides, she was already aware of your next move. At first you had thought it was because your ceremony had gone so well, but then you learned the truth. She was traced back to your mother’s first ikran, Seze. Your mother, unaware that her banshee had had a clutch of eggs, was just as surprised as you were.

“Ikran will fly with only one hunter, ma’ite. They choose you, just as much as you choose them.” She had said one night, brushing your hair lovingly by the glowing fire. “It seems that Seze has found her way back to us – to you.”

You smiled softly, the memories of your clan slowly calming your heart. Lost in your thoughts, you nearly missed the sounds of rustling vines by the side of the cliff. You instantly got up from your spot, your hand already hovering the hunting knife strapped to your chest. You wanted to peer over the ledge, see whatever it was that climbing and making such a ruckus.

And you were about to, had it not been for the sudden appearance of a light-blue finned arm. Whoever it was, they struggled immensely to bring themselves up over the ridge. Then you heard the voice of the mystery person (who now, was not so mysterious).

Ao’nung finally threw himself over onto the surface of the cliff, huffing and panting as he paused to lay down. You stood over him, your looming figure blocking the morning sun from stinging his eyes. You crossed your arms, not saying anything to him as he continued to catch his breath. It was strange, really, this so-called mighty hunter so winded out after one climb.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked up at you and smiled. The audacity of this jerk, smiling at you as if he were your friend. “Hi, you.” He said, his fangs showing as he continued to grin up at you.

His tone was different today. When he spoke to you it was usually either with quick annoyance or condescending mischief. You tilted your head to the side, your eyebrow raising up in confusion.

“You?” You repeated, already mildly irritated.

He stood now, making sure to keep his distance from you. That was more like it. “Yeah,” he paused, now slowly walking up to the other side of the ledge. “You.” He mimicked your almost-outburst last night, even furrowing his non-existent brows the same way you did.

You stuck your tongue into your cheek, closing your eyes in the process. Eywa, you hated him. You hated everything about him. You hated his attitude, you hated his antics, you hated him.

“Do not do such things when you are standing next to me on a high cliff.” You threatened. To hell with your dad’s orders, if he crossed you one more time you were seriously going to consider throwing him off by his tail.

He raised his hands in defense, the same way he did at the beach. You wanted nothing more than to smack that smug look off of that bastard’s face. You pitied Tsireya for having this skxawng for an older brother, and even more for the baby on the way.

“You can clearly tell that I do not wish to be near you,” You said, now turning to face him. “So why are you still here?”

His smug demeanor slowly started to falter, and you could see that he was actually, for once in his life, thinking about what he was gonna say next. That was not more like it.

“Look, I understand that it might be too late now,” He reached around to scratch the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the water as if to look for the right words to say. “I wanted to apologize. Properly, this time.”

Your jaw nearly fell to the ground. To say you were shocked would be an understatement, you were absolutely bewildered at what had just come out of this boy’s mouth. Ao’nung, notorious for never bending down to anyone who he deemed was below him, was apologizing to you.

You laughed then, understanding now what he was trying to do. Of course it couldn’t be real, he was messing with you. “Oh,” you exaggerated. “I get it now! It’s another joke- another one of your tricks.”

“Oh man, you almost got me.” You patted him on his shoulder, clenching your stomach in your fit of fake giggles. “Keep that acting up and you’ll definitely be qualified for next week’s bonfire performance.”

Now he was the one confused. He followed after you as you made your way into the forest, your laughter slowly starting to subside. You walked faster, hoping to lose him the moment you started gaining momentum.

“[Y/N] please, it is not a joke.” He called after you, and you could hear him stumble on the overgrown path as you continued to ignore him. You did not reply, only focusing on getting him off your back.

“[Y/N] I am not lying to you, nor am I trying to make a fool out of you,” He finally caught up to (unfortunately), his head tilted downwards as he waited desperately for an acknowledgment.

That last line was what got you. He wasn’t trying to make a fool out of you? Did he seriously think you were going to believe that? You stopped abruptly and faced him now, your eyes shooting daggers into his skull.

“You cannot expect me to believe that,” You spat at him, jabbing your finger into his chest as you spoke. “Have you already forgotten about last night, hm? About how you left my brother out there to die?”

“I did not-“ He started, but he shut his mouth as soon as he opened it.

At that point you were beyond pissed, last night’s fury overtaking your body once more. Here you were, thinking you could at least have one morning to yourself. Oh how mistaken you were. You backed him into a tree, finger still pressed into his chest. However, his expression showed no signs of anger; not even a slight retaliation to your confrontation.

You wanted to yell at him, scream at him. You wanted him to hear your words, to know how many nights he had left you sleepless because of a heavy heart. Oh Eywa, you wanted him to hear you.

“I cannot express how much I loathe you. How much I wish to skin you alive.” You said, your words laced in silent but deadly anger. “I have been nothing but kind to you! I let you get away with your stunts because I had to respect you – respect your rank.”

You felt hot tears start to form, but you did your best to force them away. He had already seen how you handled your outbursts, you weren’t about to let him see you vulnerable as well. Still he remained silent, a gray look painting his features.

“You say that you want to apologize, but what did you do when you found me this morning? You mocked me. You found it hilarious that I thought my brother was gone.” Your bottom lip quivered, a frown starting to form on your lips.

You turned away quickly, hands flying to cover your eyes. Great, you thought. The tension in the air was so thick that even a hunter’s knife wouldn’t be able to make a dent. He spoke up then, but his voice was soft as he went on.

“I am sorry. So deeply sorry, [Y/N].” Was all he could muster up at that point. “You are right, what I did to you and your family was not right. I was- am a fool.”

You turned slightly, finally making proper eye-contact with him. Ao’nung looked at you, really looked at you, and not with pity. He was ashamed – so, so, ashamed for what he had done. It was a genuine look of shame that it nearly spooked you. Reef people spoke not only with their words, but with their eyes as well. He kept his gaze on you, waiting for you to respond, to lash out – to do anything.

“I want to make things right. In fact I’ve already started,” He made his way in front of you, his eyes never leaving your silent figure. “I spoke with Lo’ak last night, though it was only brief. He did what he did because he wanted to spare me the shame I would get if my parents realized that I was the one who brought him out there. Imagine that? The guy whose life I risked defending me because he didn’t want me to get hurt.”

You stared at him for a moment, lips slightly parted. You had no doubt that he was speaking the truth – you knew the way your brother handled things. He thought of everyone else before him, always doing things to make sure other people were comfortable.

“So what is your plan for mending things with me? Or is an apology all you came here for?” You asked, the angry sadness within you slowly melting away as you heard him out.

Never in your life did you think you were going to see Ao’nung fix up his act, but now he was proving you wrong. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I want to understand you – to know who you are. I know that I’ve shut down any of your attempts to show me your true skills before, but I am ready to learn from you – only if you let me. I will not force you to do so if you do not wish to.”

At that moment it was just the two of you, surrounded by the lush nature of Awa’atlu’s forest. The sun had peaked high enough to where its rays shone through the canopies and bushes, the light of it glowing around the both of you. You watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his fingers twiddled at his side. He really meant it. That was really not more like it. You waited a few seconds before nodding your head slowly.

“Okay.” You said, voice so soft that a normal human wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “I will show you. But only after will I decide if you are worthy of my acceptance.”

Ao’nung sighed in relief, a small, satisfied smile starting forming on his lips. “So, when can we start?”

You turned away from him once again, this time making your way out of the forest. By now village life would be starting, and that meant that your family would be up as well. Once the both of you were back on the cliff’s ledge, you were able to see the fishermen setting up their posts, the healers gathering medicinal plants from the farms. Their lives were so simple here – empty of any human influence.

And now you had the chance to do the same – to live freely without the fear of forever being an outcast.

“After eclipse. We will meet back here, do not be late or I will assume that you have no intention of keeping your word.” You said without looking at him, making your way down to the vines.

Before you lost sight of him though, you caught a glimpse of his gleeful expression. His smile had only grown bigger from when you agreed to let him into your life.

That was most definitely not more like it.

To your surprise, Ao’nung had already made it up to the ledge before you. Still unaware of your presence, he leaned quietly against one of the trees, humming an unfamiliar tune. He was looking up at the sky, admiring the brightness of each star against the hues of dark blues and purples.

“You’re early.” You announced, your voice pulling him out of his trance.

“Of course. I promised that I was going to prove myself, didn’t I?” He replied, a slightly playful tone hinted in his words.

You ignored whatever it was and went straight into the forest, not waiting for him to follow. If he wanted to know who you were, the first thing he had to do was learn how to keep up with you. All this time you had to work under his pace, now he had to work under yours.

He was smart enough to know that, and he followed as you ventured deeper into the forest. Much like in the Omitikaya, their forests were littered with bioluminescent plants that illuminated the dark spots. You were used to navigating places in the dark, but Ao’nung on the other hand, was not. You stopped yourself from giggling every time you heard him bump into something.

“We are almost there.” You said, turning your head to look at him briefly as you continued walking. “I hope you still have energy to climb.”

You heard his quiet complaints, but he continued forward. You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of accomplishment for finally being able to boss him around for once. After a few more turns, you had finally reached one of the larger trees.

“You ready?” You asked quite cheerfully, something that Ao’nung took note of. Forest girl in the forest, of course you would be happy.

“Lead the way.” He said, his hand gesturing for you to show him the way up.

You were swift as you lifted yourself by the vines, relishing in the feeling of being in your element. Sure, being in the water was fun, but being able to swing and jump from branch to branch was something entirely different. The forest was all you knew before coming to Awa’atlu, and as the sky people say, old habits die hard.

You looked down to see Ao’nung trying his best to mimic the way you were climbing. You were slightly impressed, seeing him pull himself up even though you knew he was already starting to get tired. Now he had a glimpse of what it felt like to be you – adapting to a new setting, learning the ways of a whole nother clan.

When you had finally reached the wide branch pathway, you bent down to offer him a hand. He waved you off, assuring you that he was perfectly capable on his own. You shrugged your shoulders and got up, making your way to the archway made up of overlapping branches. The leaves of the neighboring trees created a makeshift entrance, adding to the hidden aspect of what was behind it.

“What is this place?” He asked, his expression filled with curiosity.

He was a sweaty mess, and you were only able to tell because of the glowing flowers that grew on the bark of the trees. And also because he stood beside you now, closer than usual. The branch was wide but it would only go so far. He had to stay close to you if he didn’t want to fall to the ground or into the sea.

“Come, I will show you.” You pushed the leaves aside, revealing a path to another tree, only this one was larger than before.

Its canopy was so rich in greenery that it felt almost foreign to him, like someone had lifted it from another forest and planted it here. The branches on it intertwined with one another, creating a beautiful, intricate pattern. Ao’nung had lived here all his life, yet he could not believe that such a sight was present here all this time.

His hand rested on the top of the archway, which caused him to lean over you slightly as he took in this newfound view. You looked up slightly, watching him admire his new surroundings. From your position you could hear his heartbeat; slowly returning to a normal rhythm from the exertion a few moments ago.

What was odd was that your heart was the one beating erratically. It was fast, faster than what you normally felt after a climb. You coughed as you moved forward, breaking the silence between you two. Ao’nung followed you soon after, though his eyes were still locked on the tree in front of him.

“So, you want to know who I am?” You started walking backwards, a feat that shocked Ao’nung. Even though you were this high up, you were well balanced. You didn’t hesitate with your steps, nor did you struggle with the bumps on the path. “Watch and learn.”

You called out into the night, your voice uluating as you waited for a response. The leaves of the tree started to rustle, and you heard the familiar growls of a certain ikran. She leaped out then, her wings flapping in excitement as she recognized your call.

“Sìlpey!” You exclaimed, hurriedly running towards her. Her head leaned towards you as you reached out to stroke her leathery wings. “My sweet girl, I have missed you.”

You reached into the pouch at your side, grabbing for one of the fishes you slipped out of your family’s basket. Ikrans were more than capable of hunting for their own food, but you enjoyed giving Sìlpey a treat once in a while. She happily took it from your hands, gulping it down as soon as she had it in her mouth.

“Tam-tam, Ma’Sìlpey.” Your voice was smooth and calming, and you hadn’t felt happiness like this in a while. It had engulfed you fully, and you nearly would’ve forgotten about Ao’nung’s presence had it not been for your ikran’s sudden roar.

You turned sharply and ran towards him, tugging his arm. He looked down at you, mouth agape and eyes wide. In your haste to make it up here, you had forgotten to tell him about the rules when it came to encountering ikrans.

“Do not look into her eyes. They do not take kindly to strangers.” You whispered, making sure he understood you correctly. He averted his gaze to bark of the branch, cautious with next movements.

You made your way back to your banshee, stroking her head this time. You brought kuru up to hers, making tsaheylu with her before mounting her properly. Once you were sat securely, you let out a long, suppressed laugh. Oh how you missed this, missed being one with your spirit sister. Ao’nung slowly looked up, making sure to focus solely on you. He grinned at your laughter, taking in this new expression of yours.

“You seem happy.” He said, crossing his arms in the process. He stepped back a bit giving your ikran more room to move around.

“Oh reef boy, happy doesn’t even begin to describe it.” You replied, or rather, shouted.

He blinked. Reef boy, huh?

“This is who I am. I am a hunter — taronyu.” You shifted in your seat, clutching onto the leather straps of Sìlpey’s harness. “Ikrans are not like ilus or direhorses.”

He watched in fascination as you willed her to calm down. He had heard stories of the ikrans before, tales of riders from the eastern sea who took pride in their spiritual connections with them. But seeing one in real life was different.

He had caught a glimpse of Sìlpey during your arrival, but now that he was close enough to admire her, he understood why you loved her as much as you did.

“Once you have chosen an ikran, they will only fly with you for the rest of their life.” You explained, stroking her head once again. “Sìlpey is the daughter of my mother’s first ikran. She and I are not like most taronyus.”

“How do you know?” He asked, purely out of curiosity. He genuinely wanted to know how you knew you were different. He saw you in a different light now — gone was the quiet girl who succumbed to his ridiculous antics. You were a warrior in your own right, and he felt the sense of shame creep up on him again as he remembered the way he treated you.

“Watch.” You said, climbing off of your ikran. You walked away from her with a look, as if you were speaking to her through your mind. She flew back into the trees, and only when she was out of sight did you turn to face him.

“Do not yell.” You said to him as you adjusted the riding straps on your arms.

He was about to ask you what you meant by that when you suddenly leapt off the branch, arms outstretched as you fell closer and closer into the sea.

“[Y/N]!” He yelled as he moved forward, stopping himself once he realized he was going to slip if he continued any further. When he looked back down, you were nowhere to be seen.

He felt his heart drop to his stomach. His palms began to sweat as he actively tried to search for you, hoping to spot you somewhere in the water. He was just about ready to dive himself, until he heard a loud screech behind him.

He spun around almost instantly, his eyes wide in realization. You were sitting comfortably on your ikran, suspended in the air. The moonlight illuminated the both of you, the white glow highlighting your features. You were laughing, genuinely laughing, and your ikran spun the both of you around before finally moving closer to him.

“I told you not to yell.” You said through your laughs, your smile still plastered brightly onto your lips.

He sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. “You didn’t tell me you were going to jump off! That hardly seems fair.”

You moved to land back onto the branch, dismounting yourself once again. “You have hardly been fair yourself, have you not?” You said, although your tone was not angry. Rather, it seemed like you were teasing him.

He shook his head. Impossible, he thought. She will never think of you that way, she is here because you want to make things right.

“It’s getting late.” Ao’nung said, turning to face towards the archway. “We need to get back soon.”

You only nodded in response, turning to say your goodbyes to Sìlpey. She crowed and thrashed, and you felt terrible for leaving alone again. “I will return soon, I promise.” With one last stroke to her wings, you turned around to meet Ao’nung outside the archway.

“So, taronyu,” He said as you finally made your way to him. “What’s after this?”

“We will meet here again. Tomorrow, after eclipse. Do not be late or-“

“‘-I will assume that you have no intention of keeping your word’, yes I know.” He finished for you. “I told you, I will prove myself to you.”

You stared at him, humming in response. You made your way down the tree, and he followed close behind you. The walk back was quiet between the two of you, the mystery of surprise gone for the day. You wouldn’t call it awkward, just, unusual.

At the cliff’s ledge, you paused to wait for Ao’nung to catch up to you. When he finally stood next to you, you turned to ask him something that you had failed to mention earlier during your guys’ first encounter.

“How did you know I was here this morning?” You asked as you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hints of lies.

“I know you come here often.” Was all he replied, saying it as if it were a common fact.

“Bullshit, not even my own twin brother knows about this place.” You scoffed.

“Because your brother doesn’t pay attention to you the way that I have to.” He replied, his voice stern. “When you snuck off that day after training it took me a while to find you. Imagine my surprise when I saw you up there, sitting alone in silence.”

You were shocked at this information, you were certain that nobody came around this part of the island — at least not where you went. And why had he said nothing about this? Why did he leave you be? By no means were you complaining, but it was just not like him to be so — considerate.

“You are full of surprises lately, reef boy.” You said, leaving him alone once again as you made your way down the vines.

Ao’nung felt his cheeks heat at the nickname, and he thanked Eywa that it was night so that you wouldn’t be able to see the purplish tint across his cheeks.

“Good night, forest girl!” He called out to you.

“Tomorrow! Do not be late!” Was all you responded with.

Although, the voice in the very back of your head wished to say good night to him as well.

#aonung #aounung #ao'nung #ao'nung x you #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung fanfiction #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung angst #ao'nung fluff #ao'nung imagine #avatar ao'nung #avatar the way of water #ao'nung atwow #avatar 2022 #avatar 2 #atwow fanfiction #avatar imagine #✎ maxi’s works

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zepskies · 3 months

Text

Being Human – Part 2

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Your life made sense before Alec slipped his way in. He unravels your threads without even trying. He frustrates you as easily as he weasels back into your good graces. But you soon realize that this man is worth the challenge.

AN: Thank you for your lovely responses on Part 1!! I'm very excited to bring you the next chapter of Being Human.

Chapter Summary: You know that Alec is hiding something, and it’s more than the fact that he’s been dating another girl behind your back. [Set during 2.11]

Song Inspo: “Sailing” by Avant

Word Count: 6,200

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, two-timing (don’t worry), mentions of Manticore’s training (torture), hurt/comfort, mega feels, smuttishness.

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 2: The Only Place

Alec showing up at your door unannounced isn’t anything new.

This time, however, he comes bearing a raw chicken in a plastic bag and a sack of potatoes. Your eyes go wide as you let him into your apartment.

“Where the hell did you find that,” you gesture at the chicken. In this economy, it might as well have been a five-pound lobster with a side of caviar.

Alec waggles his brows at you and flashes his familiar grin.

“Farmer’s market,” he says. “I fought some rich lady and her Pomeranian for this.”

You extend “gimme gimme” fingers at the bag as you lick your lips. You two are going to eat good tonight. You can even use the bones to make soup for the rest of the week.

Still, something niggles at the back of your mind.

“But this must’ve been so expensive. You didn’t have to do this,” you say, looking up from the bag of goods to your boyfriend’s face. He gives you an easy smile as his arm hooks around your waist.

“Don’t worry about it. I won a few pool game bets off Sketchy. Not to mention a couple of his paychecks,” Alec says.

His smirk makes you shake your head, but you wonder if he’s telling you the truth. He always seems to have cash to spare, despite the fact that he’s only been working at Jam Pony for a few months—barely making minimum wage.

Regardless, you start to prepare the chicken with what seasonings you have in your pantry while Alec peels the potatoes for you. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

Not for the first time, you wonder how he really lives. You’ve never been to his apartment before. Despite being friends with Max (there seems to be history there), he just got to Seattle a few months ago. And as for family, he claimed he had to leave home.

“It was what you’d call…an unstable environment,” he’d said.

That, you could understand. Your own father had died when you were fairly young. After the Pulse, a virus had swept through and ravaged your hometown in rural Massachusetts.

Unfortunately, a shortage of antibiotics at the local hospitals left your mom without much help to fight off what ailed her body. You’d spread her ashes in the Charles River, where she used to love to paddleboat with you when you were a kid.

Then, you’d packed up what little you had and left the East Coast to make a life for yourself out here, alone. The city had been a challenge for you at first, being a smalltown girl at heart, but the hustle and bustle distracted you in a way you’d needed.

Now, Seattle has become your home, for better or worse.

Alec knows all of this about you. He knows about your guilty pleasure of fried eggs, rice, and Vienna sausages: one of the ultimate struggle meals. He knows you love ice cream so much, you’d eat it for breakfast if you could.

He also knows you wanted to be a veterinarian, of all things, before the pulse. Now you have no hope or prayer of ever affording college, even if you tried.

But Alec…he still largely remains a mystery to you, no matter how deep he’s wedged himself under your skin.

“You’re really concentrating on that chicken,” Alec says, but his voice startles you, as it’s suddenly very close to your ear. You jump slightly as his arms wrap around your frame from behind.

You giggle a little, but you tilt your head to allow him access when his lips find your neck.

“Have I thanked you for this yet?” you ask. “I can’t remember the last time I had honest to God poultry…that also didn’thave a 50% chance of being radioactive.”

You feel the shape of Alec’s smile against your skin.

“No, as a matter of fact, but feel free to express your gratitude sexually,” he rejoins.

You have to laugh in earnest at that. You wash your hands in the sink before you turn in his arms and take his face gently in your hands. You bring him down to you for a sweeter kiss than he expected.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips. “It’s nice, having someone who thinks about me.”

His brows furrow a bit at that. He didn’t think bringing you an unexpected meal would be all that impressive, but…he also knows how long you’ve been alone.

For reasons he can’t tell you, it makes a twinge of guilt hit him behind the ribs.

All throughout dinner, and afterwards, Alec is hooked on the familiar soap opera playing on the TV in the living room. You both are sitting on the couch, but you’re half watching him, amused by his reactions. He’s absolutely glued to an episode you’ve already seen.

“You’re even more obsessed than I am,” you tease.

Alec spares you a wan look. “I just wanna know whose baby it is.”

A teasing smile forms across your face as you shift onto your knees and lean over to him, as if whispering a secret in his ear.

“And it’s actually twins,” you tease.

His expression of enrapture shifts with a wry edge.

“Twins, huh?”

That seems to take him out of his enjoyment, somehow.

You frown a little. “You okay?”

“Always,” he responds, glancing at you. He visibly lightens up, pulling you into his lap with a muttered, Come ‘ere.

You giggle at his manhandling and oblige him with a few stolen kisses.

You feel bold enough to push him back to lie on the couch, and he actually lets you. His hands find your hips while you move to straddle his. Your fingertips drift down his chest as you consider him with a tilt of your head.

“Why haven’t I ever been to your place?” you ask. You draw an imaginary pattern across his chest, grazing him with your nails. His skin prickles under his clothes, but he stares up at you and shrugs without giving into your distraction.

“What, do you live above a strip club or something?” you add, smirking.

Alec’s expression matches yours as he squeezes your hips. “I like coming to you.”

Letting out a breath through your nose, you lean down and try plying him with slow, nipping kisses down his jawline, then his neck.

“Hmm, I still think you’re evading,” you say between kisses. “Tell me. Why haven’t you invited me back to your apartment?”

“Aren’t you getting demanding,” he teases back, even though his breath hitches when you nip a bit harder, just under his ear. Your deft hands run over his chest, toying with his senses. Already the scent of the soap you use has invaded his nose, like it always does. Jasmine.

“You knew this about me,” you say against his skin. He feels the movements of your lips like an added tease.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges. His smirk deepens. “Not gonna lie, I kinda like it.”

You smile. “So answer the question. Or do I have to punish you?”

Fuck, sweetheart, be my guest, Alec thinks. But he forces himself to focus on your words, reading between the lines of what you’re really fishing for.

“My place isn’t all that safe,” he says.

You snort. “Safe is relative in this city. Besides, I thought you said my apartment was questionable at best.”

“I said you needed better security.”

“You’re my security.”

Alec’s smirk returns at that. “Is that all I’m good for?”

“Better than a doorman,” you joke, leaning down to him again. “You deliver right to my door.”

“You think you’re so clever,” Alec says. Your lips find his in a kiss, and they lure him back into the pull of you. How easy it would be, just to let you “catch” him. Every night. Every day.

Your arms cage his head as you finally lay down on top of him, slowly rolling your hips against his. Both of you feel his hardness twitch against your thigh. You smirk against his lips.

“And right on time,” you quip.

“All right, that’s enough outta you,” Alec says, and he claims you with a more demanding kiss. His fingers sink into your hair tightly.

But you press your hand to his cheek, making him pause for a moment. The amusement fades from his eyes the longer he stares into yours. You’re not teasing or joking anymore.

You lower down and kiss him with meaning. With tenderness.

You don’t know how it makes that coil of guilt grip him like a vice.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” you mutter.

Your exasperation has reached an all-time high.

You’re really trying not to clock this bitch in the throat. When she grabs you by the hair, however, you have no choice.

Your punch lands squarely up the bridge of Marina’s nose with a crack that makes even Original Cindy wince.

You feel sick to your stomach.

Not just because your coworker and former friend Marina has stumbled to the floor, looking up at you with ire and a bloody nose. But because you just found out that you and Marina have somehow been dating the same man.

Alec had been standing off to the side with a semblance of concern behind his eyes (but mostly shock). You turn to him next, and he freezes. All the nearby Jam Pony employees watch the scene as you grasp Alec’s arm and warn him with only your eyes—it’s in his best interest to follow you to the lockers.

He acquiesces, even though his shifty eyes say he wants to bolt. Cindy’s shaking her head with a flat expression. Max is outright glaring at him. Sketchy is grinning, shoots him a thumbs up as the two of you pass by.

Alec heeds your unspoken demand, but he crosses his arms once you let go of him.

“Apparently, Marina claims you’re her boyfriend,” you accuse. You press two fingers into his chest. “Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating her for what, two weeks tops? A relief to me, since I thought we’d been dating for almost two months.”

Alec laughs nervously and rubs the back of his head. “Well, you know, we never did say that we were exclusive—”

“Did you sleep with her?” you ask.

He falters at the look on your face. So incredibly hurt, but still holding out a sliver of hope.

The longer he stays quiet, the more that too starts to dim.

You can’t help yourself. You slap him across the face.

Alec takes the hit, making it look like it actually hurt him in the way he snaps his face to the side. He’s more shocked than anything, though he knows he doesn’t have a right to be.

Your lower lip trembles, but you also gasp with a wince and hold your hand, because somehow his face felt like a slab of iron. Shit! Does he have a metal plate in his head or something?

Alec sighs. “You okay there?”

He reaches for your hand, but you back away from him.

“Don’t touch me. Never touch me again,” you say shakily, through tears.

You don’t want to admit that your heart is breaking. You fucking idiot. You should’ve known your instincts would be right about Alec McDowell.

You grab your clipboard and your forgotten backpack from the floor by your locker, and you walk away from him before your tears start to fall.

In the aftermath of the fight, Normal raises hell about the fact that Marina’s quitting. You can’t really give a shit, but you’re not about to follow suit. You’ve never, and will never let a man get between you and your money.

You take your deliveries for the morning and start on your route.

And if you have to park your bike in an alleyway to cry without the prying eyes of your coworkers, then that’s your right as a woman.

Alec hides it well, but inside, his chest aches the way his face should. He doesn’t altogether know or want to think about why.

So he worms his way into a delivery run with Max to distract himself (and to escape Jam Pony HQ). Max gives him hell, as expected, but he tries to ignore her and get this job over with so he can drink himself into a stupor at Crash tonight.

…Or try to. Getting drunk is a difficult feat with his genetics, not to mention a very expensive pastime.

Right now, he and Max are riding their bikes through the richey rich side of town, so at least it’s cleaner. Manicured hedges and tall gates surround every house here. It’s almost kind of familiar, though he’s too focused on following Max to care much.

“I mean, it’s not like I intended to date ‘em both at the same time,” he defends himself. “And then when it turned out I was dating them both at the same time, it’s not like I didn’t intend to tell both girls about the other one. …You know, eventually.”

It’s like the universe itself calls himself out on his lie when the front tire of his bike skids. He pulls to a sharp stop in front of an iron gate and falls over onto the asphalt, but his reflexes are quick, and he picks himself up with a forced spring in his step.

“But let’s be real for a moment, shall we?” he says. “I mean, suppose I did tell them. What would happen, huh? Same thing. Big fight. Lots of anger and resentment and recriminations, and then who wins? Nobody.”

Max continues to watch him with a deadpan frown. “Well, at least in this case, you won.”

“Exactly,” Alec smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. His expression falls anyway. “Well, no. Seeing as though neither of them will be likely to speak to me, which makes any kind of sex a virtual impossibility…at least for a couple of days.”

Max rolls her eyes. “Clearly both of them lost their damn minds to even give you the time of day.”

Alec has a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but it’s waylaid by a memory that used to make him smile. It now just settles heavily in his chest.

Two Months Ago...

Just then, the bartender slides you a beer you’ve already ordered. You thank him and give Alec a smile.

“Got it covered, thanks,” you reply, sipping the froth off your drink.

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you answer.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. You tense up and blush at his proximity, making his grin deepen.

Damn, she smells good, he thinks.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

He knows he’s making you nervous in a good way. He can sense it, though you eye him wryly. He means to go in for the kill, but he’s thwarted when Original Cindy slides into the seat on your other side. She tosses you a wink, the way women do when they have their own unspoken language.

You then smirk in Alec’s face.

“Keep trying. Maybe someday I’ll lose my mind,” you say, with a teasing raise of brows.

He’s still amused as he shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable. Insulting, yet, still somehow endearing.”

He means it. Every time you turn him down, he’s genuinely disappointed.

But if you ever change your mind, he’ll be right here waiting.

That memory falters as Alec stares up at the familiar mansion. He just doesn’t remember that he’s been here before—not until he rings the doorbell. That sound dislodges a fragment in his mind.

One that makes him hide from the surveillance cameras on instinct. It has him throwing the package over the gate and grabbing Max to guide her away from the house before they’ve been able to get a signature.

And a name rings through all the clutter. A name that was once seared into his mind is wrenched open like a badly sewn wound.

Rachel.

You don’t see Alec for a few days. Which is good, because you’ve been avoiding him.

Until he finally shows up for work, and somehow, he looks off. He lacks the jovial, devil-may-care attitude he wears like a second skin.

He glances at you down the line at your locker, catching your gaze.

You still can’t bear it. You turn your head away, feeling like a coward. You hear his locker door slam loudly and he leaves without even getting his schedule from Normal.

You rest your head against the cool metal of your locker.

“Where the hell’re you going, mister!” Normal calls after his former favorite employee.

Despite your better judgment, you sigh and push away from your locker to face your boss.

“He’s got a stomach bug. Real nasty,” you call out.

Normal’s frown deepens, but his expression softens from his hardened edge.

“Oh. Well…that’s all he needed to say,” he sniffs. He hands what would’ve been Alec’s load of packages onto Sketchy, who gives him a flat look.

“Go, get to work. Bip, bip!” Normal points a finger at him, then dismissively at the door.

Sketchy rolls his eyes, but he makes sure to send you a “thankful” look before he heads out. You give him a sardonic smile. Serves him right for taking Alec’s side in this whole messy situation, like the man children they both are.

Original Cindy comes to your side and lightly bumps your hip. She’s a strong support as always, and you give her a small smile.

“Come on, boo. I’m buyin’ your drinks at Crash tonight,” she says. You loop your arm through hers.

“Thank God for you, OC,” you breathe, though with a smile that feels a little more like yourself.

“Ladies night, it is,” she snaps playfully.

And if that’s what tonight is, then you’re going to look good. No ratty jeans and boots meant for walking. After work, you dive into the depths of your closet and find an old favorite of yours: a black leather skirt and a lacey top, open-backed and a sweetheart neckline. You complete the look with a pair of heeled ankle boots and the only shade of red lipstick you own.

You just don’t count on Alec wanting a night out too.

He hangs out at Crash all the time. You can’t be surprised, you remind yourself, when you spot him at the bar. Except he doesn’t wear his usual suave confidence. No, he’s hunched over a glass of whiskey as he sits alone in front of the bartender. He doesn’t even notice you, Max, and Cindy as you guys claim your usual table in the back.

You can’t help it though. Your eyes keep drifting back to him.

Both Max and Cindy catch you, with something like sympathy on the latter’s face.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Cindy remarks. “Anguished, and all Heathcliff-like.”

She’s right, you think. He’s been like this for days.

Max seems to know him better than anyone. You turn to her in askance.

“This isn’t just because of…what happened, is it?” you say.

Max sighs and shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so.”

But she’s either unable, or unwilling to give you any more to go on.

…Goddamn it, you think, as you contemplate doing something stupid, like going over there to talk to him. You know you shouldn’t give him the time of day, but God help you, you still care about this asshole.

You heave a sigh. “I’ll be back in a few. And if not, I give you full permission to haul my ass out of this bar.”

“Don’t do it,” Cindy advises, with the tone of someone who knows you’re not going to listen.

You get up from the table and give your friends a placating hand. You roll your shoulders and force your feet to move—towards the bar.

The seat to Alec’s left is empty, and you take it. His gaze slides toward you, and he’s forced to do a double take. His familiar once-over has you almost smirking, but even that is missing something. It’s like something sucked the life right out of him.

He gives you a haphazard smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me,” he says.

“How many of those are you going to drink?” you ask, gesturing at the third glass of whiskey in his hand. He glances down at it, then at nothing as his gaze travels away from you.

“Until I can’t feel the burn anymore,” he replies. Even his voice isn’t like him, dull and wry.

You hesitate, but you surprise even yourself by offering an olive branch.

“Look, if you want to talk about what happened…or anything else—” you try, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking at you again. “I should’ve made it clear from the beginning that I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”

Your heart plummets. Your mouth works past shock and fresh hurt. You fight the sting in your eyes as your mouth flattens.

“So, you and I were just casual,” you confirm. “None of it meant anything to you?”

He looks over at you and pins you there. There’s a glimmer of something behind the cool green of his eyes. Like maybe part of him wants to rebel and give you hope.

He stays quiet.

So with tears in your eyes, you close out your tab, and you leave the bar to go home. You can’t even bring yourself to look over at your friends. You’re too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Alec focuses on the contents of his glass, even though he knows nothing will ever be enough to numb him.

Now that Manticore’s psychological reprogramming has crumbled, now that he remembers what happened two years ago—and what he did—nothing will make his fractured, bloody insides feel like nothing ever again.

Max and Original Cindy see the entire scene play out from across the bar. Cindy shakes her head with a hum of disappointment that black women have perfected.

Max’s answer is to get up, with much the same reluctance as you had, albeit for different reasons.

“I know I’m gonna regret this,” she sighs.

“Take your time,” Cindy says. She already has her flirtatious eye on another woman by the pool table.

Max smiles in amusement and leaves her friend to her business. She goes to her fellow transgenic and slips into the same seat you occupied moments before. Alec barely looks up at her.

“Call me crazy but I get the feeling you’re in some kind of jam,” she says. “More than just about your messy ex situation, though that was a nice cold shoulder you gave her.”

“Okay, you’re crazy,” he replies, raising his glass back to his lips.

Max presses her luck, asking about the locket Alec has always kept. At Manticore, he’d kept it in his shoe. He’d pull it out at night and try to remember why it was important, but he never could. All he knew was that it made him feel better, and he’d go to sleep easier.

Max saw it on him days ago. And now they both know it had belonged to Rachel Barrister, daughter of Robert Barrister. The man Alec was once sent to kill.

He’d both failed and succeeded.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Max,” Alec says snidely. “Stay out of my business.”

“Fine,” she says, but part of her still worries about him. And she worries about you. “Look, I know we don’t always get along—”

“Nicely understated,” he cuts, and sets down his glass a bit too hard on the counter. The bottom of it fractures. “Barkeep!”

“But if you’re in some kind of trouble and you need my help, then you should ask now, and not when it’s too late and everything’s all messed up, like you usually do,” she says.

“Well, I appreciate the offer, Max. I really do,” he says dryly, “but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You know, I would, see, but…you wouldn’t understand,” Alec says. He points out that Max and the rest of her little X5 friends left Manticore (escaped) when they were kids. The truth is, she has no idea what he’s endured ever since.

Manticore cracked down on the next series of X5s like him, and every series afterwards—they all paid the price for what Manticore saw as the failure of Max’s unit. Lax training. Traitors. Deserters.

Alec didn’t see it at the time, not completely. He now knows just how deeply fucked up he was.

And is.

There’s no fixing it, like there’s no use trying to fix a broken toy.

So Max eventually walks away from him, just like you did. Just like he should have done for Rachel.

He knows he hurt you, but he also thinks it’s working out better this way. Better that you walk away from him, before he gets you hurt even worse.

It happens in stages, the way Alec’s memory unlocks.

It sorts through the psychological methods of torture and erasure Manticore used to try and scrape the Barrister assignment from his mind. Not only did it not work, but Manticore still won. No matter what he does, he can’t block out the pain or the rush of memories. He can’t not feel.

It’s a frustrating state of being for a soldier.

Alec’s laissez faire way of coasting through life after Manticore burned down was his version of stoicism, of surviving.

But if this is living, then he doesn’t want it.

That’s why he loses focus. He runs headlong into the trap his rational mind is warning him of—into that mansion, where Robert Barrister has led him with the torturous siren song of Rachel’s favorite piano sonata. The very same one he taught her, just two years ago.

Alec wants to rip the notes out of his head, but he still goes to the house.

Somehow, a fifty-five-year-old man gets the drop on Alec, a soldier. A transgenic.

Barrister knows who and what he is. He’s been in the game long enough against Manticore to know who he used to sell his products to, but he can’t quite pull the trigger on that gun, even though Alec goads him on. Shouting at him to do it. End his misery.

Rachel.

Max saves his ass again. It’s a frankly embarrassing number she’s racked up on that count, as she stuns Barrister and knocks him out before he can deliver the kill shot directly into Alec’s temporal lobe.

Alec doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care, until Robert tells him where she is, upstairs in her room. Alec travels down the familiar corridor, and he sees her again.

Rachel. Oh God…

She’s wrapped up in wires because of him; in a coma, slowly dying for the past two years. She pulled her father from the car that was meant to explode and end his life. Rachel fell.

Alec sinks down into a chair beside her bed. For a moment all he can do is stare at her pale face.

Because of him. His job. His mission, that he couldn’t complete, because he tried to save her. It was too late, she paid the price, and it was all because of him.

Because he couldn’t fight the training drilled deep into his mind. He couldn’t fight his captors, not hard enough.

She paid the price.

Alec sits at her bedside for as long as he can. He slips her locket back into her cold hand. He holds her as close as he dares, and begs for forgiveness through near-silent tears.

“I didn’t understand,” he whispers brokenly. “I didn’t understand…how much I loved you.”

Alec attends Rachel’s funeral, a few weeks later. He stands almost a quarter of a mile away, but he can still hear the service. He goes to her grave, and he accepts the caustic words from her father.

“Never come back here,” Robert hisses. “I wanted to kill you. I hated you that much. But I’m still her father. I want her to be proud of me…and I don’t want to be like you.”

Alec silently accepts this. He knows what he is. Now, he knows what he’s done is unforgivable.

He also knows it’s time to let her go.

So he says a silent goodbye before he walks away from the grave and the cemetery. He intends to go home…

He doesn’t quite make it there.

Alec is forced to walk through a torrent of rain. He barely feels it beating down on his head, back, and shoulders.

Somehow, he ends up dripping wet at your apartment. His tall frame takes up your doorway when you open it to him.

This feels familiar, you think, as you take him in. Once again, you’re dressed in just your pajamas of choice: a loose shirt over a pair of shorts. Your hair is tossed into a bun.

You aren’t sure if it’s rain or tears dripping down his wet cheeks. His eyes are red enough to convince you of the latter.

“What’re you—”

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice is a hint unsteady.

Your mouth falls open the slightest bit, but eventually, you sigh.

“Alec,” is all you can say. Go away, are words you can’t force past your lips, even if you have every right to say them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I uh…I don’t know why I’m here.”

“You don’t know?” you repeat, your eyes widening incredulously.

He shakes his head, but he aims to leave. This was a mistake, he thinks.

You don’t know what to make of him right now. Hasn’t he hurt you enough?

He seems different though. He looks like he’s one step shy of falling apart, and you’ve never seen such rawness in his eyes.

Something inside you breaks, and you grab his wet hand before he can escape down the hall. You’re persistent in leading him inside your apartment, where it’s warm. You offer him some dry clothes he left behind last month.

After he gets changed, he sits on your couch with you. His silence is so confusing, you’re not sure what to do.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Me,” he says, chuckling humorlessly. “I’m what’s wrong. I uh…I should go.”

He gets to his feet, all twitching nervous energy, and again he tries to leave. You feel compelled to stand with him and follow him to the door.

“Wait,” you say, holding the door closed. Your hand lands on his arm, imploring with everything you have. “Alec, just tell me what the hell is going on. You’re scaring me.”

His eyes drag up your body, and slowly meet yours.

I didn’t understand…

Alec can’t help it; he raises a gentle hand to touch your cheek. You don’t deserve someone like him wrecking your life. He can’t be fixed, and he doesn’t want to break you too.

You hold his hand to your face. “Alec. Talk to me, please.”

In your face, he finds concern and the threat of tears, and his heart continues to hemorrhage.

There’s still room for you there. You’ve carved out a place in what’s left of it, without him realizing. He’s getting better at seeing the warning signs.

You let out a shaky breath. “Just tell me the truth. Are you in trouble? Are you here because you have nowhere else to go, or—”

“Honestly, yeah,” he finally admits.

You deflate in response. What the hell?!

Now you’re just about ready to push him out of your apartment and warn him that he better not come back. His grip on your arms stops you.

“This is the only place…” he continues, his jaw working. “Can’t seem to move my feet anywhere else.”

He means what he says, even if it’s not coming out right. After seeing Rachel’s prone body in her bed, coming back to face you is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. And yet, there's nowhere else he could go that felt right. He meets your eyes and notices the way you’re holding your breath.

“Uh, I kinda lied to you before,” he confesses. Your brows raise at that.

“When?” you challenge.

He licks his dry lips. “At the bar. Last time we met.”

“So when you said,” you struggle to articulate it, because just the thought of it still hurts. “What you and I had…that it didn’t mean anything…”

His hands slide down from your arms, to hold your hands in his.

“I was an idiot. I didn’t know what it meant,” Alec says. “I do now.”

Your eyes flood with tears as you let go of a heavy breath. Alec releases your hands to hold your face with shaking hands. In turn, you hold his wrists steady.

"You really hurt me, you know," you say. Your voice is a near whisper, but your words cut into him all the same.

"I know," he replies, as his thumbs caress your skin. "I'm sorry about that. About everything...which is why we probably shouldn't do this."

He really says that, even as his hands drift down to your neck, where he can feel your pulse beating and picking up speed. Alive.

“What?” you ask, with genuine confusion. You pull away from him a little, frowning up at him. "Then what are we doing right now? Either you want to be with me, or you don't, Alec."

His eyes meet yours.

You’re so real, so honest. Alec starts to think, to understand that this is what lured him in. It had him coming back to you every time you turned him down. It kept him coming back to you when you were his.

She can still be yours, he thinks. It’s a selfish thought, but here he is.

So he draws you in and kisses you deeply.

He doesn’t know how this can still feel right, even though his chest pulses with pain. But maybe, being with you is a different kind of pain. Maybe it’s not pain at all.

You asked him for the truth though. He can’t give you everything, but he can give you one piece of the puzzle; perhaps the only one that matters. He parts from you, opening his eyes to find your face. Your eyes are still closed, and when you open them, you start to blush.

It almost makes him smile, but his brain is still warring with his heart.

“I’ve only ever cared about one person in my life…and I lost her,” he says. “I’m not good at this.”

“How,” you ask, a bit hesitantly. “How did you lose her?”

His throat is tight. It’s all so fresh, he doesn’t even know how he gets out the words.

“She died,” he admits.

Your expression falls, and you shake your head.

“I’m sorry,” you reply, holding onto his shirt. “I’ve lost people too.”

He thumbs at your cheek. He sees your sympathy so clearly across your face, though he doesn’t know how you can still give that to him. It goes against everything he’s ever been taught, and everything he’s learned in order to survive.

He can’t help but let you back in, just like you’re about to do for him.

“It’s really this simple. If you want me to forgive you, if you really want to be here, with me, exclusively…then all you have to do is stay,” you say at last. Your lips press together for a moment. “But if you play me again, Alec, I swear to God—”

“No. No swearing’s necessary,” he says, and kisses you again. He’s surprised he’s able to smile, just a little, and he does so against your lips.

You break from him to grip his shirt and glare up at him. “You understand me?”

Alec’s smile deepens a fraction. He brushes your hair away from your face.

“Indeed, I do, Miss Ma’am.”

It takes you a beat, but you roll your eyes, despite a lingering blush.

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” he starts to tease. “You seem to like giving out orders, I just thought you’d like a title change to go with it.”

You slap his chest half-heartedly. “Shut up.”

“See? More demands,” he quips. “I don’t know if I can work in this environment—”

You pull him down for a kiss to shut him up indefinitely.

And like it so often has, it leads into your room with the two of you falling haphazardly into your bed. He situates himself between your legs and traps you underneath him as he kisses a wet path up your neck. You arch against him and your hands dive under his shirt to help him wrench it off.

It’s all very fast, and a bit frantic until he has you naked underneath him.

His hand finds your cheek, touching softly, like he’s afraid to break you. There’s pain in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. Your brows furrow, though you caress a hand up the back his neck. He shudders when you unintentionally brush his barcode.

“Alec, what happened?” you ask.

He shakes his head. He wishes he could tell you. He wants to tell you…everything. It scares him, because he also wants to run out of here, putting as much distance between himself and you as possible.

But again, he’s selfish. This time, he understands why his heart is pulsing with both pain and longing when he stares into your eyes for too long.

“I can’t,” he says. “Not tonight… Can we just focus on the good part here?”

Despite yourself, you smile with a small huff. You take his face in your hands and bring him down to meet your searing kiss.

The good part, indeed.

AN: And here's an angsty Part 2! lol Let me know what you think! 💜

You might want to buckle up for where we're going next...

Next Time:

He takes one corner of your towel and peels it off you slowly, until your body is bare for his gaze. His eyes take in every inch of you before they make it back to your face.

He smiles, taking down the messy bun from your head to have your hair fanning wildly across his pillows. Your hands move across his chest and further down, but he puts a stop to your exploration. He grasps your wrists and pins them down to the bed with a strength you can’t escape.

You raise your brows. “Alec?”

“Trust me,” he says, dipping down to kiss your neck. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

You suck in a breath. Far be it from you to argue with that.

“Is this one of those sexual favors?” you tease. He laughs against your skin.

“You’re about to find out.”

Keep Reading: Part 3

Series Masterlist

Alec McDowell Masterlist

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celtic-crossbow · 1 month

Text

Hand in Hand, to Hell and Back, I Will Follow You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Carol Peletier

Setting: France

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood and injury; poorly written smut

Summary: Finally.

A/N: This can stand alone or be the third part following Two Sinners Can’t Atone from a Lone Prayer and You Wanna Shut Away the Pieces of a Broken Heart

©celtic-crossbow 2024. I do not allow for my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or placed on any other platform without my consent.

“Here! In here!” Carol held open the door, watching the surrounding area nervously while the people she had led away from the battle filed into the small room. Three men. One woman. And a boy. She made sure they weren’t followed and closed the door, pulling down the yellowing shades before pushing a desk in front of the entrance. The papers, letters long forgotten, scattered onto the floor. She took but a moment to consider if they were meant for a loved one who would never read the words.

“Qui es-tu?” The blonde woman was shielding the child behind her, as if Carol meant them harm after running into the fray and leading them to safety. Well, at least some form of temporary safety.

Regardless, she had no time for questions.

Her focus was on the man hanging between the other two. The reason she had crossed an ocean and fought her way through an unfamiliar land on just a single thread of hope she would find him.

“Daryl?” Carol took his face in her hands, lifting his head, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. She had hoped her voice would have been enough to rouse him. “Shit.” Frantic blue eyes took stock of the room, filled to the brim with books and documents, everything coated in a thick layer of dust and entirely useless.

“Who are you?” The woman spoke again and was once again ignored.

Moving quickly, Carol swept her arms across a table, sending everything onto the floor to be forgotten. “Put him here.” The men took a moment to regard one another. “Now!” She barked, reluctant but not unwilling to pull her gun. Daryl obviously knew these people if he was willing to fight with—for—them, but she didn’t.

“How do you know him?”

Carol gritted her teeth. She wasn’t out to make enemies but she wasn’t striving for friends either. Placing Daryl’s crossbow on the desk, she unshouldered her bag and dug through it for the medical supplies she had gathered along her journey.

“It’s okay, Isa.” Carol spared a glance toward the boy, but then gathered her supplies, all she could carry, and returned to the table where Daryl lay prone, pressing two fingers to his neck just to reassure herself he was still there. “She’s his lady Carol. She isn’t here to hurt us.”

She froze for a moment, knife in one hand and the other hovering over the bullet wound in Daryl’s thigh. Focus. Cutting through the trousers and wiping away the blood with a piece of fabric torn from her own shirt and several alcohol prep squares, she could get a better look at what she was dealing with. Through and through. There was no way of knowing if it had hit the bone but it had definitely missed the artery or she would be putting him down rather than patching him up. With any luck, it had gone through the muscle alone. His limp would likely be more profound but it was preferable to a shattered femur.

“Bullet went through.” She sniffed, holding back the tears that so desperately fought to fall. He was there, alive and breathing, and she was going to make sure he stayed that way. Carol unbuckled her belt, granting the room’s other occupants a moment’s worth of her full attention before she slipped the leather through the loops and worked it beneath Daryl’s leg.

“My name is Fallou.” One man offered, stepping closer while she secured the belt as a tourniquet. She didn’t respond and wouldn’t. Daryl may have been less than truthful about his life and family in order to protect the ones he’d left. Without him awake, she wouldn’t risk unweaving the tale he may have told. “This is Losang.” Her eyes flitted up from the gauze she was applying, following Fallou’s gesture toward the other man.

“I’m Laurent. This is Isabelle.”

Carol couldn’t help but nod and give the kid a tight-lipped smile.

“And you’re his Carol.”

His. “Yeah? And how do you know that?” She was genuinely curious. Winding the bandage around Daryl’s thigh didn’t take much focus aside from trying to do so without cutting off the entire pant leg. The wound would need stitched whenever they could find the supplies necessary.

“I can just tell. Monsieur Daryl spoke of you.” She chuckled quietly but said nothing else. She should have been wondering what he had said about her but all she could think about was his facial expression at being called a monsieur. Carol froze again when the boy continued. “You have the same look on your face as he does when he speaks of you.”

Everyone else in the room disappeared and there was only Daryl, peaceful behind the blood and bruises in a way she wished she could see without injury. Finally able to relax, she pulled over the office chair and collapsed into it, leaning forward with one elbow on the table, the opposite hand smoothing the hair away from his face.

“Everyone rest. We have to wait this out.” She instructed, words given on autopilot that she wouldn’t remember later.

He came to gradually and then all at once, a burning, jolting pain in his left thigh that radiated down to his toes and back up to his hip in a hot gasoline trail. “Fuck.” He rasped before even opening his eyes. He was disoriented, feeling everything spin behind closed lids. Where was he? Had they lost? Had the Nest been taken?

“Easy.” Isabelle’s voice broke through the barrier of pain, a relief enveloping him to know she was alive. The steadiness in her tone told him that Laurent was safe, but there was a hesitance there as well, a heaviness that was out of place.

Daryl turned his head toward the soft call of his name and blinked open tired eyes. They had been outnumbered, that much he could recall. Codron has switched sides, offering them knowledge of the attack and thus time to at least form a line of defense. He remembered the blinding pain when the bullet struck his leg. He had only just struggled to his feet after a blow to the head, taken right back down in a cocoon of agony. Then there was nothing.

Almost nothing.

He’d heard Carol’s voice. It wasn’t unusual. He always heard her when he slept. Her soft syllables reminded him of why he continued fighting to keep the boy safe. He needed to finish what he’d started and then get home to her. France could never be home. Not without Carol.

He’d be lying to them and himself if he promised to stay, even when the mission wasn’t complete, when any opportunity to make it back to the Commonwealth might present itself. He’d leave them behind the tide and never look back.

So he never promised.

He had promised Carol he’d make it home. And he’d never lie to her. He didn’t intend to start now.

An electric current of pain snaked out from the wound, and he jerked, attempting to shake it, somehow grasp it and hold it at bay.

“We will return soon and you can rest and heal.” Isabelle was holding his hand and though he didn’t pull away, the touch felt wrong.

“Did—is anythin’ still there to go back to?” Her blurry silhouette shrugged, distant shouts and gunshots muffled behind a closed door.

“We had to run. You were injured and the hungry ones came. She came then too. She led us here and we’ve been safe.”

She? “Who?” Isabelle didn’t answer, forcing him to wait until his vision cleared before trying again. “Who?” She smiled sadly with a distinct jerk of her chin, indicating the other side of him. Daryl rolled his head and his breath hitched before stopping completely. He’d know that crown of silver hair anywhere. “Carol?” Her head was on the table, rested atop her arms just beside his elbow. If he was going crazy, he was taking Isabelle with him. She could see the woman too. It was all enough to have him ignoring the pain and scrambling upright. “Carol? Carol!”

She jerked awake, finding his gaze with ease, her own eyes wide as her hands began to flail in ill fated attempts to subdue him. “Daryl, wait! Calm down, you’re hurt—stop it!”

He didn’t. He couldn’t.

Carol didn’t resist when he found her upper arms, damn near pulling her onto the table with him to crush her against his chest. He was crying, pride be damned. She was there and whole and there and he couldn’t let go. “Carol.” His voice shook and cracked as he held onto her, not realizing nor caring that she was returning the embrace. He just needed to feel her there. The shame of being so desperate for her would come later.

“I’m here. I’m here.” She soothed, petting the back of his head. She was shaking, sobbing softly into his shoulder.

It wasn’t long before his body reminded him of his injuries, his energy waning, but he refused to let go and sagged against her, clumsily holding on and adjusting his grip on her jacket each time it failed him.

“It’s okay, Daryl. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” Her voice was fading as he was left no choice but to give in to the pull of exhaustion and blood loss, still clinging to her with weak fingers while she eased him onto his back. “Rest now. I’m here.”

“Carol.” He croaked, hands falling away, one thudded against the table while the other fell right into her waiting palm. He was so tired, overwhelmed by the strong notion that she could still be just a dream. As darkness crept into the edges of his vision, he whispered the same words he always did when he’d seen her while he slept. “I love you. Don’t go.”

He was no longer on a hard table the next time he clawed his way into the waking world. Though the mattress wasn’t much of an improvement, it still eased the ache in his muscles and the throbbing pulse in his leg. She was his first thought, his hand squeezing the soft weight of fingers curled around it.

“Easy, Daryl.”

He let out a sob, uncaring of the weakness he displayed. Carol was really there. His eyes found hers, tired and red-rimmed. “You’re here.” He breathed, struggling to sit up. She didn’t stop him but slipped an arm behind his neck to assist his efforts. “How?”

Once he was upright, still holding tightly to her hand, Carol rubbed at her eyes with her free forearm. Her jacket, he noticed, was discarded on the undisturbed bedroll behind her. “I found a clue and followed your trail.” She smirked and placed a palm against his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the stubble there. “Getting sloppy in your old age.” She chuckled and he blushed, feeling the burn of it all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Glad I was this time.” He admitted.

Carol gave him that gentle smile that always turned his heart inside out. “Your color is better. You were cold as ice when we got you here. I stitched up your leg. Everyone was worried but I know you. It’d take way more than this to take you down.” She gestured toward his leg.

Daryl nodded, grateful for that bit of praise when he truly felt as if a strong breeze could knock him over. He hadn’t had the presence of mind until that moment to look around. The room was unfamiliar but definitely one found within the walls of the Nest. It still stood.

He had grown accustomed to a thin mattress or bedroll on the floor of the shared sleeping area. This room was nice, private and bright with a balcony. One of the upper rooms he’d never been curious enough to explore during his time there. He’d never wanted to, not even in brief stints of boredom. The unfamiliarity of the place had kept him centered, focused on going home.

“I have a way back home. Back to the Commonwealth.” He turned back to her and she flinched, eliciting a tilt of his head. “That’s if you wanna go.”

“Course I wanna go.” He stated firmly but not unkindly. He was confused. “Why wouldn’t I wanna go?”

“Seems like you’ve got something here.” Carol released his hand. He thought he caught the shine of a tear as she turned away and stood, approaching the door to the balcony. Arms crossed, she looked out over the place. “Like you have someone.”

Now he was beyond confused. “What the hell’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

She looked over her shoulder at him, the sun warming the side of her face in a way that made her look unreal, like a painting that belonged in a museum before the end of the world. She smiled, that same know-it-all grin she had given him when she had suggested he settle down with Connie. “Isabelle. She loves you, you know?”

“Nah, I don’t know.” He was having trouble keeping his tone level in the face of her assumptions. She turned away again.

“I could see it back in that office. The way she watched over you, held your hand.” A beat of silence before she sighed heavily. “You told her you loved her.”

Daryl’s face twisted into a grimace, trying to pull together any recollection. He remembered going down, the pain. He remembered Isabelle when he woke. He remembered being consumed by Carol, nothing but her once he had set his eyes on her.

I love you. Don’t go.

Shit. “Carol, I—”

She chuckled. “You’ve got nothing to explain to me, Daryl. I’m glad you’ve found happiness.” Her shoulders slumped a little, and he could see the defeat in that posture. “I said I wouldn’t leave without you, but I only meant that if you wanted to leave. You don’t have to leave her. Or the boy.”

He hated letting his silence linger but he needed a moment to get himself off that damn bed. Everything hurt. His body had been given one taste of proper rest and had then decided it liked it and didn’t want to cooperate. Finally, finally, he made it to his feet and limped his way across the distance, stopping just behind her.

He didn’t touch her even though his body was being drawn to her like a painful magnet. “Wasn’t sayin’ that to her, Carol.” Her back straightened, but she didn’t move. “Look at me.” He wanted to sound sure of himself, had really tried. It still came out as a weak request. Regardless, she turned around, her head bowed. Daryl hooked a finger beneath her chin and guided her up to where his gaze waited, hoped she could read the honesty on his face, the naked longing. “Not to her.”

“Daryl.” The way she said his name both broke his heart and made him shiver, the combination sparking a flame to life beneath the desire that morphed into courage he wasn’t sure he’d ever gather again if he didn’t tell her right that moment.

“I love you, Carol. S’always been you.” His knuckle caressed her jaw before his palm opened just below it, his large hand cradling the side of her neck while his thumb stroked her cheek. “Wasted so much time, made so many mistakes when I could’a told ya so many years ago. Maybe could’a saved ya some’a the pain ya’ve been through. M’sorry. I was a coward.”

Carol gasped, and even though he’d never taken his eyes off her face, it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. “Daryl Dixon, you are anything but a coward.” She said it with such conviction that he had no choice but to believe it. “You’ve done more for me, for everyone, than any of us ever deserved from you.”

“You deserved it.” He said more forcefully than intended but Carol never even blinked. “Ya deserve everythin’, Carol.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Do I deserve you, Daryl?”

He snorted weakly. It wasn’t funny but the very idea that she didn’t deserve the entire fucking world was ludicrous to him. “Better than me.”

Carol took that last step forward, pressing them chest to chest, forcing her head back to look at him properly. “There is no better than you.” Her eyes followed her hand as she cupped his cheek, fingers trailing over the stubble and gliding to brush his hair behind his ear before stilling on the side of his neck, almost mirroring the way his hand still laid against her. “I’ve had my man of honor all along.”

It was instantaneous, the way he bowed his head and she tilted hers, their lips coming together in a kiss that was way overdue. It felt electric, the hairs rising on the back of his neck beneath her fingertips. She shivered and sighed into his mouth when his lips parted in invitation, her tongue delving inside with no further prompting. They were moving before he’d even realized it, his limp playing a substantial role in the unsteady course toward the bed.

Carol fell first, her hold on his biceps dragging him along with her. Daryl caught himself easily enough, keeping his weight off of her but failing miserably in protecting his leg from bumping the mattress. He hissed a breath through his teeth and arched upward to favor the injury while she overflowed with apologies. “M’fine.” He grumbled, taking a moment to allow the ache to subside. When he opened his eyes, crystal blues were trained on him. Her mouth was turned down, worry and disappointment visible enough in the lines. “Said m’fine, Carol.”

“Maybe we should wait.” She hadn’t made a move to shift from beneath but her body was rigid and ready to spring the moment he gave the word.

Daryl shook his head before jerking his chin toward the area above her, silently demanding that she move more onto the mattress. “Waited long enough.” With a curt nod, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and complied, watching him with such intensity as he gingerly followed that it made him slightly uncomfortable. Tilting and holding his weight more on his right side, he lowered to his forearms—his hips settled between her thighs— to press his mouth back against hers. He knew he was already hard, his poor body trying to figure out whether his pulse should be in his injured leg or his throbbing erection. His hopes that she hadn’t noticed were quickly dashed.

He pulled back, breathless, to find her smirking at him. “What?”

“I think we’re entirely overdressed for this occasion.” Rubbing her lips together behind that same smug smile, she snapped one of the suspenders and he dropped his head. He was never living that one down. “We’re going to talk about these later. And by talk, I mean I’m going to tease you until the end of time and you’re going to say stahp on repeat.”

“Shuddup.” He griped through a lopsided smile while pulling up the bottom of her shirt.

Getting undressed was more challenging than it should have been. The wound in his thigh made moving difficult, several colorful words finding their way past his lips. He was pale and sweating, leaning heavily on the wooden nightstand by the time he was down to his underwear.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Daryl’s eyes lifted to find Carol sitting on her knees, bare save for the modest, mismatched bra and panties hiding the things he wanted to see most. Her eyes skirted down for a moment and then back to his face, that smirk firmly back in place. “Well, parts of you are definitely up for it.”

“You’re killin’ me with the commentary.”

“Sorry, Pookie. Come over here.” She moved back to give him room. “Lie on your back.” Her hands were out, ready to assist if he needed but he wasn’t a fucking invalid. He could manage getting onto a damn mattress.

Maybe.

He groaned once his head hit the pillow, physically and sexually frustrated. He was quite literally aching for her but his body was one giant ball of pain. She noticed his plight. Of course she did. Daryl opened his eyes when he felt her moving beside him and then her hand on his ribs, just over a deep bruise. She had some contusions and lacerations of her own, each with a story he wanted to hear but knew it was not something to ask about at that moment. She was about to give him an out and he wasn’t having it.

“Nah, don’t even.” He shook his head. “Want this, have wanted this. Not willin’ to wait if its what ya want too.” Carol seemed to mull over the words, eyes narrowed but not arguing. He took that as a good sign.

“Fine, but you let me do all the work.”

His mouth fell open to retort but clicked shut when she leaned over him to press a kiss to the skin above where his pulse raced and then to the front of his throat, dipping her tongue into the hollow between his collarbones. When she shifted to circle the wet muscle around his right nipple, he drew in an unsteady breath, the adrenaline flowing from her attentions giving him both the will and the energy to push her onto her back. Goddamn, that hurt.

Worth it.

“I said to let me do all the work!” He was already sitting back, balancing awkwardly on his right knee, and pulling her panties down her slender but strong legs.

“I didn’t agree to nothin’.” He smirked, hooking a finger beneath the material of the bra, just over her sternum. “Take it off.” He had no idea where this confidence was stemming from but he rode with it, would until it fizzled out.

“When did you get so bossy?” She quipped, opting to pull the garment over her head in lieu of wasting the time unfastening it. The sight of her breasts had his mouth damn near watering but he had an agenda to keep before his leg gave out completely.

He fell forward to catch himself with a hand on either side of her hips, wrapped an arm around each thigh to spread her open.

“You don’t have to do—oh.” Carol collapsed back, her protest forgotten once his mouth descended on her. His tongue pushed through her folds, trusting her reactions more than fearing his own lack of experience. He was nothing if not adaptable. He made note of her cues; each twitch, each sigh. The places that made her hips jolt and the motions that made her keen. When his tongue flicked across a stiff little nub, her hands shot up to twist into his hair. He repeated the action, over and over until her thighs were shaking and his name was a broken prayer from her lips. He had originally planned to bring his fingers into the mix but when she arched off the mattress, singing his praises in a chorus of sounds and words that made no sense, he was almost disappointed not to have the opportunity.

Well, that time anyway. As long as she was willing, he wanted to explore every inch of her, inside and out.

He lapped at her languidly, helping her ride out the aftershocks while drinking down her nectar, an exquisite offering he would gladly indulge in as often as she’d allow. He didn’t stop until she pushed him away and pressed her thighs together to smother the sensitivity he’d left behind.

Balancing just as he had before, he grinned and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Told ya I’d go down first.” The way her eyes widened and her mouth fell open was plenty enough reward for his lame attempt at a joke.

“You are unbelievable.” She laughed, actually covered her flushed face with both hands and laughed. He could only watch her with a fond smile for a moment longer before his leg waved the white flag.

“Ah, fuck.” His tumble to the pillow beside her was anything but graceful. His arm was thrown over his eyes, his way of shielding himself from what would likely be disappointment on her face. That, and if he looked at the pale skin of her breasts with those dusty rose nipples, he thought he just might really embarrass himself.

“Are you okay?” There was residual laughter in her voice. The mattress moved as she shifted next to him, her curves pressed to his side in a way that made him groan.

“No.” He sighed. After years of skirting around their love for one another, he was finally where he was meant to be and he couldn’t perform for her. Not for the reasons some men his age couldn’t, no, he was definitely not inept in that department. His cock was painfully hard and with very little persuasion. He was injured and it was just too painful to give her everything he wanted to, show her exactly how she made him feel.

Carol’s small, warm hand came to rest on his stomach, her fingers kneading the skin there, softened by time but still covering strong, capable muscles. The contact was nice, a balm to the fresh burns of his own self-deprecation.

“Daryl.”

“Hmm?”

“Stop that.”

He lifted his arm to peer from beneath it, not moving it away entirely. “Stop what?” Carol ducked below that same arm for a chaste kiss, hovering there with her thumb stroking his bottom lip.

“Doubting that you can please me.” God, she could read him like a book. “You just did something no one else has been able to do. Ever.” He let the barrier between them fall away completely then, his hand coming to rest on her bare hip.

“No one’s ever—?” His eyes flickered down in broad indication of their lower halves. Carol chuckled.

“No, that’s happened.” She clarified. Daryl waited, arching a scarred brow while his fingers drummed on her skin when she simply remained silent.

“You’re usually ‘bout as subtle as a shotgun. Can ya at least pretend to acknowledge that m’clueless here an’ throw me a bone?” The second the words left his mouth, he knew he’d opened himself up for another teasing retort and shut her down before the smirk could even fully form. “Not one word.”

Carol ran her pinched fingers across her lips as if closing a zipper, that same hand then finding its way to his forehead to brush back his unruly hair. “No one’s ever—got me there without my—” Daryl squinted and followed her hand as she made a vague gesture while trying to find the right word, “participation.” And then she waited while his head tilted and he pieced together what she was trying to say, nodding with a smile the moment she saw it click.

“Well, least I did somethin’ right.” He shrugged a single shoulder.

“You do a lot of things right, Daryl. They may not be in the category of sexually intimate but they’re just as important, if not more so.” Before he could object or even move to stop her, Carol was straddling his shins and pulling down his faded boxer-briefs.

She knew what she was doing. He was much too focused on the damp heat he could feel hovering above his skin to realize that she was stripping him bare. When his brain finally caught up, Daryl fisted the duvet to avoid the strong urge to cover himself. He had never really worried about his size before, never had a reason to feel inferior. Now he was on display in front of the woman he loved and he couldn’t get it out of his mind that he wasn’t enough for her in absolutely every way.

“Daryl.” That was a warning tone if he’d ever heard one. He forced himself to relax. If Carol had a problem, she’d tell him. He trusted her to do that. Swallowing hard, he watched her crawl back up to sit beside his hip, her gaze not on his obvious need for her but on the square of gauze taped to his left thigh. “Always giving for everyone else.” Her tone was distant, laced with sadness as her fingertips hovered over the bandage. Just like that, her focus was back on him, the smile back on her face. “Now will you let me do all the heavy lifting?”

Daryl snorted at the phrasing, earning an arched brow. “Fine.” He grunted. Blue eyes shot wide when Carol wasted not a single second in throwing her leg over him to straddle his hips. He wasn’t sure when he had grabbed hold of her thighs but he was squeezing for dear life to keep himself in check. She was holding herself over him in a way that he could see the slick glistening on the tuft of hair just above where his cock was hovering over his lower abdomen. If she touched him at the moment, he was coming apart and he knew it. “Won’t—ain’t gonna last, Carol.”

“I know.” Her voice was soft, her eyes overflowing with a million emotions that he couldn’t name but the ones he could calmed his anxiety almost instantaneously: love and acceptance. He knew both to be true already. She had always loved him in some way from the moment he had handed her that pickaxe, just as he had loved her. They had accepted one another, faults and strengths, broken pieces and methods of mending. It’s why he was always drawn to her; why he trusted her when he was hurting.

The moment her fingers touched the velvety skin of his cock, Daryl went rigid, wound tighter than an eight day clock. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to cum before he even had the chance to be inside of her. It was unnerving, the effect she had on him.

“Relax.” Carol cooed. Easier said than done. She didn’t tease him, though it was quite apparent she wanted to, a frustrated restraint in the beautiful lines on her face. His hand was on her cheek before he realized he had even lifted his arm.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, watching in awe as she bowed over him to bring their mouths together, entrancing him with a kiss while shifting his cock to notch against her entrance. His gasp was swallowed eagerly, his tip stretching her open, his hands fumbling for her hips. “Fuck. Fuck.” Every word brushed against her lips while he filled his mind with anything and everything to keep from filling her that very moment. Walkers. Saviors. Fuck, even Mercer made an appearance with that expression of disappointment that was followed up with a reprimand.

She sank another inch, then another, and another until she was flush against his pelvis, her ass tilted to keep any pressure off his injured thigh.

“Gimme—goddamn, gimme a minute.” And she did, occupying herself with tracing the lines on his face, his scars, his collarbones. It was barely working for her, the fluttering of her walls around him making his hips jerk.

She bent down to nuzzle her cheek against his, the shift in angle prompting a sound from him that he wasn’t aware he could even make. “Please,” was all she said and he couldn’t deny her, he had spent too many years doing that trying to keep her safe, to try and choose her path for her when the easiest one would have led them to each other all along.

Fingers flexing on her hips, he encouraged her to begin rocking, the groans leaving both their throats were sinful. If any sisters overheard, they had surely fallen to their knees in prayer. It didn’t take long for him to pull her higher, closer, allowing his lips to finally indulge in a pale pink nipple while his hips lifted to meet each of her downward pushes. Sucking and flicking his tongue over the pebbled nub, his other hand massaging the otherwise neglected breast with movements somewhere between desperate and tender.

The breathy call of his name was enough to assure him that he was doing things right. Still, the sudden buzz at the base of his spine brought everything to a level of urgency. There was no time to revel in how beautiful she looked bouncing over him, her head thrown back with breathy gasps of ah ah ah yes oh my god. He was close and by fuck, he was taking her there first.

Finding her swollen clit was simple from this position, the angle of her hips and his cock splitting her open had the little bundle of nerves pushed out. A large hand splayed over her lower abdomen, his thumb flicked over her and then pressed firmly to rub tight circles. “Need ya to let go, Carol. Need to feel ya.” He was barely hanging on, his hips already losing any rhythm.

“Oh god, Daryl, I—” She clung to him, nails biting into his chest as her body spasmed. Her cunt hugged him tight, squeezing and milking until he shouted hoarsely, his single grasp on her hip, holding her still through the initial waves, the contractions of her inner walls pulling each warm rope of him deeper and deeper inside.

Urgency softened into lazy thrusts and gentle rocking, his hands on her sides squeezing with reach aftershock. He knew the shame and embarrassment would come soon enough but for that moment, he simply watched her with hooded eyes. Her breaths were shallow but quick though the slightest partition of her pouty lips. Her eyes were closed, brows raised ever so slightly. The agonizingly slow rhythm of rising up and sinking back down as she continued to pulse around his softening cock was mesmerizing. Overstimulated as he was, each movement making him fight a jolt, he couldn’t tell her to stop. He wouldn’t. She was too beautiful soaking up that pleasure, the limited bliss he was able to give her.

“Daryl.” She breathed with a smile, eyes still closed. He slipped out of her when she fell to his chest, her face immediately burying in his neck. Just as the shame began to crest, her lips pressed against his pulse point. “I want to do that again and again. You made me feel so good. God, it’s never been like that.”

He reared back and angled his head to see her, content and smiling into his skin. “You shittin’ me?”

“Nope.” She still straddled him, wiggling and slithering her arms underneath his back to press herself closer. “You make me feel new again.”

“Was like—a minute an’ a half at best.”

Carol chuckled. “This time. Next time, you’ll give me a run for my money. Unless you’ve been making the French women say oui oh mon Dieu, it’s been years for you.”

“Don’t wanna know what that means but I ain’t made ‘em say nothin’.” He wasn’t offended, knew she was jesting, but he still felt bad. Still felt like she could do better. He could only offer her a broken man who was mediocre in bed. He had made her wait until they were older and worn.

“If I have to say stop that one more time, I swear, Daryl Dixon—”

“Ya threatening me?” He shot back playfully, out of reflex. “Just—Carol, ya—”

“Do you know what a refractory period is, Daryl?” Carol folded her arms on his chest, rested her chin on them.

“Pfft, course I do.” He didn’t.

She smirked, pushing her ass back against his cock. He was half hard in an instant. His fingers pressed into her ribs, a groan pressing eagerly against the back of his teeth. “Well, yours is impressive.”

“Thank you?” Carol laughed, Daryl sighed. He was just lost in her joyful sounds, the lines on her face that came with age and not pain. “Are ya mine, Carol?” He blurted out, it was unintentional but he didn’t want to take it back, even when he tasted her tears as she kissed him.

“I’m yours. Are you mine?”

“Always have been.” She was laughing when she buried her face in his shoulder again but it was different. It was relief, a gratefulness for something desired for too long, regret for time wasted, and excitement for things to come. Daryl pressed his face into her hair, inhaling the scent of home. His heart echoed all that she was expressing and then some. He didn’t believe in god, not even after his time with nuns and prophets, but something or someone had given him his Carol, and he silently thanked them.

When she finally pulled away and sat up wiping at her red rimmed eyes, he lifted a hand to help, swiping his thumb over her cheek. Of course, Carol being Carol, she wiggled her ass on top of his cock, bringing him to fully hard in no time flat. “Let’s spend a little more time making the nuns blush.”

Daryl chuckled. “Alright. After that,” he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his, each syllable a whisper against her lips, “an’ then we fuckin’ go home.”

Carol nodded. “Then we fuckin’ go home.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #carol peletier #caryl #caryl fanfiction #caryl is endgame #twd caryl #caryl positivity #caryl fandom #caryl spinoff #daryl x carol #carol x daryl #daryl dixon x carol peletier #carol peletier x daryl dixon #daryl loves carol #carol loves daryl #Spotify

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smolvenger · 2 months

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Our Society At Cranford (William Buxton x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: As Miss Matty's companion, you struggle to gain the attention of the handsome young Mr. Buxton. It appears you need a little help from the ladies of Cranford...

A/N: Not my best or most edited work. No stakes (unless you count marriage for women in the 1840's as stakes which back then it was) and only vibes. But I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Technically none other than some angst and attempts at Victorian-era accuracy. But then nothing but fluff and vibes. If I miss anything, let me know!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You were infatuated with him since the day his dog ran into the church and urinated on the altar.

That morning, you thought you heard the sound of tapping paws and opened your eyes to see a little dog in the church. Everyone was dipping their heads down in prayer. Oblivious to a little mischief. It was everything in you not to laugh at the little dog.

But the little dog ran right in like he owned the place, running and excited to be about. The prayer droned on, repeating the same phrases everyone said every Sunday.

In your reticule was a plain biscuit you saved from Sunday school. Slipping it out, you knelt, waving the treat to the dog. Daring not to speak to alert anyone.

The dog trotted forward and ate it, then you scooped him up into your arms. You held onto him, even though he struggled. If he got out he could run into the wilderness where all sorts of nasty ends were waiting for him. Once Mrs. Forrester’s cow was found stuck in the mud for hours and nearly died! Now the bovine was kept to wearing, for lack of a better word, pajamas all hours of the day to keep warm.

As your family opened their eyes next to you, they gasped. People smelled the urine and heads turned towards you. Surprised to see the little thing in your arm. Heads did turn and Reverend Hutton had to wave everyone’s attention back to the service.

But the scruffy white and brown dog settled and calmed down after a while. If you stroked his front legs and chest gently, he would become calm and sleepy like a charm.

As soon as it ended, you hurried outside. The dog began barking and wiggling. The widows and spinsters of Cranford you had befriended- Mrs. Forrester, Miss Pole, and your favorite, sweet Miss Matty all gathered around. They chatted about Reverend Hutton. Their chins up and talking as fast as clucking hens. All wondering about the dog’s urine and the shock.

“The altar cloth was made by Miss Matty’s mother! We shall have to find an apothecary or-”

“Napoleon! Where are you- I’m so sorry to interrupt ladies and reverend!”

All of you turned. The women kept silent. You were struck silent.

A young man entered as handsome as a prince in a fairy tale. Tall and lean. He had beautiful curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a rich baritone voice that halted your every thought.

“Master William Buxton!” whispered Miss Pole.

“I think we ought not to call him master now…” Mrs. Forrester replied you noted the flirtatious shift in her tone. “He’s so much…broader than when we saw him last.”

You noted he had broad shoulders indeed, and he was well fit beneath his waistcoat. It made you feel even warmer beneath your sun and your bonnet.

You and the ladies dipped into a curtsy and he a bow.

“I believe that is my dog, he escaped the house an hour ago and we’ve been searching for him ever since!” he explained.

You walked forward.

“Oh, thank you, Miss?” he asked.

You gave him your name, though your voice felt half of itself. “I…I only wanted him to be safe and not get hurt if he ran out.”

“That is much kind of you, miss! Could I have him?”

Walking over, you handed the dog to him. As the weight shifted, you felt his arms and hands brush against yours and as silly as it was, it nearly knocked your breath away. Young men here were few and far between to where one considered Cranford a city of Amazons. But here he could be something of a Hercules in the flesh.

“Oh, I am sorry! He is a bad dog!” he apologized again.

“Here you go” you offered.

“William Buxton!” Miss Matty gasped as she went forward and shook his hands. He grinned at her, greeting his old friend.

“We are so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing, but we are glad you could be here!” she continued.

“I am only here to open up the house, and attend to this bad dog,” he scolded, holding him up. Napoleon only smiled and panted in response.

“Well, we are glad you are here,” you replied.

After curtsies and bows, he scooped the dog up in his arms and continued back home. But you couldn’t help but stare at him, his curls like a halo around him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Cranford, though a small town, was filled with all sorts of likable people. If you were feeling lonely, you had to go about and soon would find a friend. And there was no better friend in town than Miss Matty.

She was the unmarried daughter of the previous rector and lived a life of genteel poverty- acting like she was still a lady who did not need work or seek employment… despite not being anything more than middle class. She was lonely too. Her sister, her maid, and the love of her life all died within two years. In light of this, you offered to be her companion. Not accepting a penny for her for payment. You both were lonely souls needing company, even in the guise of her feeling like a true lady again.

You enjoyed sitting and drinking tea with her. The clock ticking as she chuckled that this was always the time one expected visitors. One had to take a walk about twice a day. Both of you enjoyed looking through the windows of the shops to see what new fashions were arriving- that was the most excitement one got around town when it wasn’t Christmas!

“What do you think of this French style?” you asked, pointing to one illustration of a gown.

“Very impractical, but very pretty!” Miss Matty replied.

“It’d be nice to wear it to one of our dances here…if we had them again…” you sighed.

“I’m sure if the time comes,” she replied. “They are quite fun- there is one around Christmas Eve and another around Easter.”

“Oh, you should go too! Do you still remember the dances!”

“All of them,” she said with a smile.

Her sister would insist on sitting in the parlor for two hours every day from noon to two to receive any visitors. Sometimes you only sat in a chair doing nothing for two hours.

But lately, you kept staring at the window. Staring at the door. Hoping, praying…that perhaps Mr. Buxton would arrive again.

You couldn’t help but admire him. He would always tip his hat at you and smile when you passed in the street.

Everything in you was bursting when you saw him. Freezing and burning at once. Part of you wanted to run up to him and blab about anything. The other part of you wanted to run, to hide, to faint, to make yourself away when he was near. It was both at once and it was unbearable.

There was one day, as you took your second walk of the day, that a familiar sight ran forth. A high feather- only one lady in town wore such a high feather in her bonnet.

“Miss Matty! Miss Matty!” cried Miss Pole.

Both of you curtsied.

“Why, what is it?” she asked.

Miss Pole held her chin up and began to speak in a soft, but piercing tone.

“I hear Mr. Buxton plans on keeping his son here for two months, but soon he will be sent to London. Just in time for the season.”

“Oh, the season!” you gasped.

Then…the season…that was for all the well to do…but it meant…

“He wants his son to attend every ball and dinner and gathering he can- he hopes to find a nice girl from a good family who came out! And I hear Mr. Buxton is already writing some letters!”

You nearly dropped the packages in your hands. Shaking, you kept quiet.

“Why then, that is something! I only wish William well- it is not what he wants at all. But he isn’t our little Master Buxton anymore, he is a man and should find those,” replied Miss Matty.

“I can just imagine it. Our Master Buxton! Dancing the polka with some lady in silks fluent in French!” Miss Pole added.

You were silent as you returned. Your head spinning. You took off your bonnet and outer coat to go inside, but you hardly heard your footfall. It was as if the world was entrenched in water and you were just barely rambling it.

Again, you sat down from noon for calls. Miss Matty got out her needlework and sat down. But you could not do anything. Not read. Not sew. Not eat, Not drink. Anything. Your heart hammering in your ears.

After a few minutes, it became clear that no one was going to immediately arrive. Miss Matty set her things down, her gentle eyes over your face.

“Why, what is the matter, my dear?” she asked.

You looked down.

“Nothing, miss,” you replied.

“But look at you- you’re trembling. You seem a little faint even though you’re sitting…is something the matter?” she asked.

“It’s…it’s only something silly… I will get over it. I am resolved..” you said.

“I feel you wish to speak it,” she said. She stepped forward. “I may be just one

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I….I don’t…” you had to be careful. This was a small town and gossip got around like fire to dry wood. You fidgeted and rubbed your own hands to try to remain calm, looking down at your plaid skirt as you began.

“I only feel like…there are good men out there. And I..should like to someday…someday find a way to love, to be courted, to…to know what that is like…I only hope it should happen someday…”

Perhaps that was rude. Miss Matty wasn’t married. But she only smiled and continued with a soft, compassionate tone.

“That is normal…I remember back in my day how my heart would race when there were gentlemen callers. But there isn’t a rush…and besides, many a woman has been trapped in an unhappy marriage from rushing. And I will tell you…there are worse things in life than being a spinster!”

“Yes, indeed, I agree!” you replied. For it was truly the spinsters and widows who were the ones in charge of the town.

Though, you found yourself looking out the window. Your heart leaped at the sight of a familiar bowler hat and a mop of blonde curls. William Buxton passed by in his coat and gloves. He looked about the town.

You felt a small gasp in your throat. Behind you, there was the creaking of the floor. The timing was just too perfect.

But he only smiled and tipped his hat and you bowed down in a curtsy in turn. Oh, his smile could make rosebuds bloom!

Then his head turned towards his path and he continued.

You felt a soft, cold hand touch your shoulder and you flinched.

“Why, what was that!”

You felt yourself tear up. “Miss Matty! It’s nothing! It truly is not!”

“Why, my dear-I see the way you’ve been acting. And now this confirms my suspicions. Do you…love William?” she asked.

Words stammered out of you and a clamminess shook your hands, you could barely form a sentence.

“I…I…let me put the kettle on for some fresh tea!” you insisted.

You turned to leave. Putting the tea kettle onto the stovetop. You merely sat, watching and waiting until steam came out of the spout. But tears were going down your face. Miss Matty followed behind.

“Do you…have feelings for him, Miss Y/L/N?” she asked again.

Looking up, you felt more tears fall down your cheeks, growing hot and tight. Then you folded your hands, reaching one to touch the counter for support. Then putting one to your face you began to cry.

Miss Matty hurried up, giving you one of her handkerchiefs. She embraced you like a daughter and let you sob.

“It’s the talk with Miss Pole today that worried you, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes…yes it was…but Miss Matty…please! I need help! I don’t know who will introduce us or where to see him!”

“Don’t worry…it’s time we took another call onto the Buxtons…” she said.

The next day, your heart raced as you entered that fine house. As you got inside, servants took your bonnets and cloaks.

“Napoleon! Napoleon, come here!” cried a familiar voice.

Looking up, you saw William Buxton tumbling down. But he was undressed to a degree- he had his pants and suspenders and his white blouse open down. You could see his chest lying open. Your heart raced hard and he stopped, looking at you.

“Miss Matty! Miss…Miss Y/L/N! We weren’t expecting visitors!” he gasped.

“Well, we only hoped to surprise you! Miss Y/L/N is my companion and it seems fit we should see each other!” she said.

All of you bowed and curtsied. You tried to keep your eyes as much as you could on his face and not his chest.

“Why then- let me get dressed before Father scolds me. Then I’ll be back!” he said.

He bounded back up. And then you let yourself see more of him. You silently sent a thousand thank yous to Miss Matty.

Sitting down, you had tea and biscuits. And the promises of more meals. There was much talk of the new train station and the mobility it was going to provide for everyone. Of the great spring party that the great Lady of the town threw. Everyone got to see her manor house and be attended to by servants. There would be games and rowboats and every guest was going to be given ice cream- a rare treat. William was excited about that especially.

You paid calls almost every few days, even for at least fifteen minutes. And Miss Matty advised you to dress well. Not that you would ever dress poorly if you knew William would be around.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Walking down the street the next week, you saw that familiar high feather in her bonnet scurrying down. No doubt it was Miss Pole, hopping about and running like a rabbit. Only she was heading toward you. It was later, Miss Pole scurried down the street.

“Oh, Miss Y/L/N! Miss Y/L/N! There is such excitement! There is a Miss Ermina here and she is showing us how to order all the French styles! Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Well, I-”

You didn’t have time to answer. Miss Pole grabbed your arm.

“Oh, you must hurry! I insist you do!”

She practically dragged you to her house. There in the kitchen sat a young woman with ivory pale skin and beautiful dark brown hair done up in curls. Her smart jacket and skirts were of fine material, but her eyes warmed as they looked up at you. She introduced herself with a smile as Ermina. Getting out a paper, she helped you and Miss Pole and Mrs. Forester all translate an order down onto paper. You looked through catalogs and showed what you could get and what to not get. Even if you weren’t spending money now, it was good to know!

Though Ermina’s eyes sparkled at you.

“I don’t believe we’ve ran into each other, are you just moved in town?” you asked.

“I was just finishing school. And yes- with my father and brother here! Well, they aren’t family by blood but they are in my heart!”

“She is Mr. Buxton’s ward, you know!” Miss Pole interjected.

“A ward!” you cried.

She nodded. You felt the blood drain out of you. “Why, the Buxtons are neighbors and friends of ours, I am acquainted with them.”

“Miss Ermina was finishing her education in Brussels. She is also an accomplished piano player!” Mrs. Forester boasted.

Miss Pole leaned in, her eyes having a twinkle in them.

“But Miss Matty was telling us that it is important for ladies to be more varied in their education .”

“I agree!” Ermina said.

“Why, as do I!” you cut in.

Miss Pole continued, laying a hand on your shoulder.

“And as for our Miss Y’LN,- could you show her a little piano, perhaps? Help her in her accomplishments!”

You shook your head. Why, were they just stealthily insulting your piano skills? What was happening? Ermina only kept her sweet smile.

“I fear I cannot afford lessons,” you said.

“Oh, not at all! I can show you a few simple cords and phrases! Come by, please!” Ermina replied.

Sure enough, you were having lessons at their house. Ermina herself became a dear friend to talk to. She was kind and not arrogant about her station. You found you both agreed on all sorts of matter regarding women, what they should have in their lives, and ways that things should be better, and different. She of course would tell you tips she noticed about fashion and the piano pieces she found moved her to tears.

Her presence was enough. You felt guilty, having an agenda. But at least if you lost a potential lover, you had gained a friend.

If it meant more of a chance for William to be in your circle, you agreed. You could have sworn, there was something a little different in how he smiled at you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Then it came to the garden party with Lady Ludlow’s. It seemed all of the town was about there enjoying themselves as much as they could allow. Her whole yard could have made up half of the town! Her mansion towering above you like a giant about to squash you all. But the locals only chatted and laughed like normal. Some of them, Miss Pole, Mrs. Forrester, and one other were gathering to sit on chairs and rest their “weary” feet. Miss Matty was making her rounds of greetings, leaving you alone.

Sure enough, there was the promised ice cream. William, to your astonishment, brought you a cup of the dessert.

“Oh, thank you!” you replied. You took the cup from his large, white hand.

“Here you go, what do you think?” he asked.

Out of the corner of your eye, the women emerged from their chairs. They hurried about like a pack of ducks looking for crumbs in the grass.

It was cold, creamy and sweet. Though it was melting in the sun and you were tempted to eat it all at once.

“I…I never had something so delightful!” you cried.

However as you walked about, you realized there were rowboats but they were far limited. One had the Reverend’s daughter, Sophy, and her new husband smiling at each other as if no one else existed. They were already far off. Mrs. Forrester and Miss Pole claimed one another and fought as they kept rowing, chatting about this and that to echo off to everyone. \\

And there was only a third left. Miss Matty appeared, her own ice cream cup in hand.

“Why- it’s a bright day. And there is nothing as wonderful as a rowboat! Why don’t you two enjoy it- William, do be a gentleman and row for her!” Miss Matty said.

“Oh, I couldn’t!” you shook your head.

“Come on, it will be fun!” cried William.

He opened his hands and you accepted. You followed him. Stepping into the rowboat, you realize how close you are.

And you were alone. Nothing but the still, navy blue river twisting around like a ribbon and the rich green trees that rippled their leaves with the breeze.

You tried not to notice the build of his thighs, his sleeves rolled up, and his smile and cheeks glowing with the exercise. The boat moved and he grinned at you. Handsome as always, if not more.

“You’re not worried you’ll get splashed! Or fall into the water and have to swim!”

“Oh, not at all!”

You smiled at him and he at you.

“I still recall that day you caught Napoleon still. I should call you My Little Catcher.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all a bit!”

“What’s been occupying your mind?” you asked him quietly.

“The…the…the trains,” he answered.

“Trains?”

“Yes, we are about to open our railway station. I was thinking, all of my life, I never had to work hard. To earn anything. I sat by and others did it. And I was content, but I’m no better than my own dog,” he replied.

You let out a small laugh, smiling at him.

“I would…like to try to make something of myself. Isn’t that silly for a gentleman?”

“Not at all, it’s noble. And one shouldn’t be ashamed of work.”

“I should go to the captain, and ask him for a position as we’re developing it. Then…I should think of myself as lucky, as earning something, and not letting this guilt consume me.”

“You have done nothing wrong. And there is nothing wrong with purpose. It will be a change, it will be hard…but nothing worth having is easy…” you said.

He smiled at you.

“You’re right, my little catcher,” he replied.

You grinned, then looked down for modesty's sake, as well as for your racing heart. Hope glimmering within you.

It seemed too soon when he turned around and asked if it was time to row home. You agreed.

Though he held out your hand, allowing you off. His bare hand bracing your skin- the warmth, the softness. How large they were yet so protective. Something forbidden inside you was tingling as his bare skin brushed your bare skin.

You had to let go, you were glad to let go and be on the grass. It lasted so shortly, yet you felt the world spin. You wanted him, and it both scared and thrilled you.

Soon enough, another woman hurried by. The honorable Mrs. Jamieson approached you two, with her fine dress and holding her Bischon Freise dog who was also donned up in a little blue waistcoat for today. Stifling a laugh, you greeted her. William bowed his head in goodbye and left.

“Why, I must tell you. The assembly hall will be open for spring. And there shall be a dance, will you go? We are all insisting it happens!” She announced.

Blinking fast, you caught your breath.

“Oh…that is fantastic!”

“It will need work…it’s a rather patched up dreary old place…” she clucked. The dog in her arms barked as if he agreed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Though, then there was a dance. Just in time for Easter, as promised. You arrived in your new dress, bought with Ermina’s advice in your head. You took a deep breath- Miss Matty being your chaperone.

“I must tell you we spent weeks all organizing and helping it. I haven’t danced one step and we haven’t danced one step!” Miss Matty said.

“Oh, it’s all paid off! It’s lovely!”

Occupying them, and trading dance cards. But Miss Matty immediately insisted William have the first with you. And he agreed.

Your heart raced. It was a more intimate dance, almost like an embrace. He looked right in your eyes. And you had to look at his. It felt warm. You felt yourself tremble a little in his arms, feeling the warmth of his breath and his eyes, bluer than the sea, the sky on you. How could you dance with anyone else after this? How could you come down to earth?

The chords of the violins finished the phrase- and the song was done. You were still looking at him and he at you.

Glancing down, he saw that his arms were still around you in the position. Hesitantly, he let go and you both bowed, your hand still in his.

But his hand remained there, And his eyes were still on you. Leaning down, he gave it a kiss that nearly made you gasp.

“May I have you for the next waltz then, Y/N?” he asked.

Part of you froze and you saw he did too.

He didn’t call you Miss. Not even “Little Catcher.” He called you by your first name.

Handing your card, you smiled at him.

“You may,” you answered.

You turned around to see the ladies of Cranford- Pole, Matty, Forrester, Mrs. Jamieson, and the others, smiling and nodding their heads.

This could not be coincidental. But you could never complain.

There would be time to thank them, but for now in a Cranford Ballroom where everyone was easily overheard, you gave them a smile in thanks.

It was next spring there was another happy event.

In the shadow of a church, you looked at William right before the Front door and he at you. He was in as nice a waistcoat as he could now afford for today as an apprentice for a railway. He lowered his hat to look at you and hold his hands in yours. Your own gown was now of white muslin with tiny pink flowers decorated on the blouse, the skirts so light and airy you felt they were made of angel wings. You had worn a bonnet, but one with a long lace veil.

The ceremony was done, and it was time to face the crowd. William cupped your face and kissed you, tasting a little of the sacramental wine and fresh cologne.

From the brightness of his eyes, from his presence- you both had the strength to face anything.

is lifting your veil outside the church doors of your bonnet and smiling. He squeezed your hand, and as you walked out, the bells rang over you.

Everyone tossed petals and waved their handkerchiefs, cheering and clapping in celebration, in your shared happiness. Your heart full, you handed your bouquet of roses to Miss Matty and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

She smiled at you and then handed you to William. He wrapped an arm around you and all began to gather. There would be a celebration with cake, a little ice cream, dances, games, and joy until it was time for the short honeymoon his job allowed him, and then a return to the beautiful little town of Cranford and the new phase of your life together as a man and wife.

#carrie writes #tom hiddleston #return to cranford #cranford #cranford fanfiction #william buxton x reader #william buxton x you #william buxton x y/m #tom hiddleston characters #cranford imagine

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pininghermit · 8 months

Note

This is a long ask but I got inspired 🌟

(This takes place after symphony of the night, where Alucard met reader fighting in the castle and he chooses to not go back to his eternal rest because s/o's sass stole his heart)

Alucard who treats his butch female darling like a princess, like tying her shoes,kissing the back of her hand, tending to her every need and fetching her coat and what not without ever needing to be asked.

Alucard who finds himself wanting to spend all his time with his s/o, wanting to brush there teeth together, cook together...

Alucard who's fiercely protective, even though his s/o can defend themselves just fine but he can't risk losing her, whether it be in death or someone stealing her away.

Whenever s/o is in a room, People needn't look to hard to find Alucard, her personal guard dog.

People don't understand how s/o can have someone who was so cold and aloof wrapped around her finger, truth be told, she doesn't either. What with how when they first met she had told him off for his attitude,(someone likes a gal who takes no sh*t and could kick his ass (0w0))

Sorry for such a delayed response! I suck I know :( but I hope you enjoy it (if you still linger here)

Ohohoho Alucard being whipped for his OP wife *sips tea in pleasure*

He knows you can kick ass. You could be an MMA fighter but you are his precious soft person and how dare anyone even look weird at you.

Annon you are so right with description that I cannot stop thinking about this. Just the gentleness of his every action *i'm soft*.

He will pull a Hua Cheng and not let you step on bloodied/dirty ground. Princess carry you from the mess that very much originated from your actions.

Perfectly peeled apples, crust less sandwiches to challenging people to duel for your honor, this boi is whipped.

In a life where you have been a strong daughter, a brave sister, an enduring captain of guard, only Alucard sees you devoid of the narratives that people have attached to you.

And in the world that sings songs of your valor, you can't help but be swayed by the Dhampir who sees you his beloved. Just you.

Maybe if it were your family, your mentor, or anyone else you would have steeled your heart and avoided the warmth of comfort but with Adrian...you don't. You allow yourself to mellow under his care. To be spoiled with his actions.

"Here all set," you watch Adrian kneel infront of you. The warmth of knitted wool surrounds your kneecap. "Now you won't feel chill even during the hardiest of patrols," your beloved smiles as his hands readjust your pants.

The chill of forest had never bothered you. Crouching for hours as you tracked targets had been a regular task that you did not think twice before taking on. To everyone including you, it was an integral part of your duty.

But Adrian...he knew you better than yourself. The slight stiffness of your knee had been a fleeting annoyance you got rid off with regular warmups.

Yet, it did not escape his notice. Only when you prepared to leave for another patrol did your beloved lead you to a well loved chaise and gently pulled up your trouser.

"Wha-" you wanted to ask him. Bit could not complete your sentence before he took a knitted warmer and wrapped it around your scarred knee.

The warmth of Adrian's touch enveloped your knee. "I scented it with cloves so it would reduce inflammation in case cold triggers pain." Holding his hands in yours, you lean in resting your forehead on his.

Maybe you did not need looking after. You certainly can do without it but you want it when it comes from Adrian. You treasure it. All your beloved's pampering makes you more than a captain or a legend. "Thank you," you whisper it feels blasphemous to be any louder in the moment.

Your hands cup his face and you memorize him with the sincerity of pious morning prayers. Every moment spent without him would pass on the merit of your memories.

Your lips meet his in a kiss. Gratitude, love, and yearning you pour it all in that one parting kiss.

#alucard #castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #asks #hermit yearns #seriously this is projecting #house husband au

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dreadsuitsamus · 1 year

Text

Blessings | Kakashi Hatake x Reader |

author's note: hello again! this is something i wrote a while back when i finished watching naruto. kakashi is one of my favorite characters and this is the first thing i wrote featuring him, and the only thing i actually finished with him. this story is a little different than what you would probably expect, as this is an AU and kakashi and the reader are the adopted parents of naruto and sasuke. i hope you enjoy this little fluff piece! i also apologize for any spelling and grammar errors!

pairing: kakashi x reader

warnings: modern au, naruto and sasuke are children, brief mentions of death and suicide, brief mention of sex

A soft sigh broke the silence in the kitchen. Your two boys, Naruto and Sasuke, were in the living room playing together. They were peaceful for now, but you kept an eye on them anyway. It didn't take much for your little ones to start arguing, be it over toys, the tv channel that was playing, or who got to hold mom's hand when they went on family walks. You smiled softly when Naruto hugged his adopted brother, and Sasuke happily returned it, perhaps under the guise that you wouldn't witness the moment. The picture you just took, however, would prove him wrong many years later.

With another sigh, you glance over at the timer on the oven. Fifteen more minutes and the frozen pizza would be ready. It wasn't your intention to serve pizza tonight, and especially not at this hour of eight o'clock at night. But your attempt at ordering Mexican food, a favorite of your dear babies, was foiled by the delivery driver stealing the food but marking it as delivered anyway. You'd have to treat them to it another time, since it would take too long for an attempted redelivery tonight. Maybe when their father returned home from his work trip you could go to the restaurant in person, as a family. And to sweeten the deal further, you'd let them invite one friend each.

Stealing another glance at the boys (it became much too quiet in the two minutes your attention was on your thoughts) you couldn't hide the smile when you saw them settled onto the couch and watching tv. They were four years old now and had been together since they were babies. Naruto's parents, your brother Minato and his wife Kushina, unfortunately passed away on the day of his birth. There had been a crash on the way to the hospital, and neither made it out of that hospital alive. They had asked you to be their precious son's godmother right when they learned of the pregnancy, and while you loathed to have to take the position, and especially so early in Naruto's life, you swore to protect Naruto and give him the life he deserved, the one his parents would've given him if they could.

Your husband had the same duties for your other son. Sasuke was just a few months older than Naruto, and he was placed in your care just weeks before Naruto was. Tragedy struck the young Uchiha in the form of his father getting a life sentence in prison for embezzlement and insider trading just to be able to afford Sasuke's elder brother Itachi's medical treatments. Consoling him on those late nights was no easy task. Even as an infant, he knew the people holding him were not the ones he was used to. His brother died of a rare sickness just one month after Sasuke was born, and his mother was overcome with her postpartum depression and grief. You thanked her in a prayer every morning for calling Kakashi that dreadful night before she ended her life. She didn't have the strength to continue, but she was able to make sure her baby would be safe. Her love as a mother was doubted by those in town, but that phone call was all the evidence that you needed to know she loved Sasuke.

To have two infants on your hands with such short notice wasn't easy (especially as you mourned your brother and saw him every single time you looked at Naruto) and it cost you your job, but Kakashi did as he always did and found a way to make things better. He worked hard to pick up the financial slack and also helped with the boys as soon as he would get home each evening. He was exhausted every night, you knew, but he didn't utter any complaints. He had his duties to those children and to you, his wife. Hatake Kakashi was the greatest man you ever knew.

Pulling yourself away from the tragic happenings of your children, you lit your phone's screen to view any notifications. Aside from a text from Gaara's mother attempting to set up another playdate, you had no messages. It wasn't very surprising, honestly. Kakashi wasn't expected to return home for a few more days, and while he was known to send messages throughout his workday with witty comments about those around him, today hadn't been one of those days. He'd sent a text that morning and called the boys around noon when they tried to refuse a nap (you loved his scary dad voice, admittedly) but other than that he was presumably busy with work and hadn't been able to chat much.

You always missed that man when he was away.

The oven's timer went off, and Naruto bounced up from the couch and rushed to the kitchen, giddy and ready to eat. "Peesha time!" He squealed.

You chuckled softly and scooped him up, setting him on his chair at the table, a little booster seat sitting atop it since he recently was able to graduate from the high chair, but was still just a touch too short and much too wiggly to have total freedom at the table. "Patience, darling."

Naruto pouted and crossed his arms while you removed the hot pizza from the oven, setting it on the stovetop to cool. Sasuke toddled in just after that and he too was swept up and into his own booster seat. He frowned at you, cheeks puffed out and eyes defiant. He simply didn't think he should have to be in the booster; and to his credit, you and Kakashi wouldn't have bothered with it at all if the boy was tall enough. He wasn't full of blossoming, all-consuming energy like his brother and you didn't have to worry about him running away to avoid eating his vegetables. It wasn't like Naruto hadn't tried that before (more like every night) but his fingers were just too clumsy to unlock the simple mechanism keeping him in the seat.

You kissed Sasuke's forehead, compromising with him silently and not latching the booster's belt. His frown vanished and his dark eyes then focused on the pizza on the stove. He could tell by the smell it was his absolute favorite: plain cheese with a crust stuffed full of more cheese.

"Eh!" Naruto whined, giving his own forehead an open-palmed whack.

"Naruto." You chided softly, smiling as you grasped his little hand and gave him a kiss as well. "Be gentle."

Naruto's smile was bright and he smacked his hands on the table as his stomach growled loud enough for you to hear, and even Sasuke's tummy rumbled unhappily. "Food!" The little blond yelled.

"I'm on it, babies!" You moved to cut the pizza and then further cut them into bite size pieces before setting the plates on the table. Sasuke was a neat boy and picked up his little fork to eat with, whereas Naruto used his hands like usual. With a grimace, you resigned yourself to your fate that you could not go even one day without having to bathe Naruto due to his messy eating.

The front door opened up and you frowned, panic striking instantly. But just as soon as it appeared, the fear was dispelled once you caught a glimpse of the supposed intruder. "Kakashi!"

Sasuke gasped and jumped out of his seat, which made Naruto start to yell and complain that he couldn't move to see his father too. "Pa!" Sasuke cooed, jumping into his father's large, outstretched arms. Kakashi stood and kissed his son's cheek, settling him onto his hip and moving to the kitchen before Naruto's tantrum could worsen.

He ruffled his blond boy's hair and leaned down to give him a greeting kiss, standing up straight to finally look at you too. He smiled gently, and you could see how tired he was when you looked into his eyes. "Surprise." He laughed softly, ignoring how Sasuke fiddled with the collar of his cotton t-shirt and then brought his hand to his mouth after Naruto shoved a piece of his pizza into his father's hand.

You smiled and stepped forward for a brief kiss that was interrupted by Sasuke's little hand pushing his dad's face away from his mom's lips. He wasn't much of a fan of sharing his mom's kisses. "Welcome home, my love." You wouldn't bother asking why he was home now until the boys were in bed.

Kakashi smiled and swooped in to steal another kiss, sticking his tongue out at Sasuke after. He set him back onto his chair and you served him his own plate of pizza too before you sat down again. Naruto patted the table in your husband's direction, and Kakashi sighed. "You sure like to cash in on favors early." He murmured with a tiny smile before returning a small bite of pizza to replace the one Naruto had lovingly given him just minutes ago.

Brat. You shook your head softly, but your lips curved up at the ends too.

Dinner was spent with the boys talking Kakashi's ear off about their last three days without him, and your husband was unable to even ask any questions himself between their barrage of talking. Sasuke was your quiet boy for sure, but even he couldn't resist being excited whenever his beloved Pa returned home.

As soon as dinner was finished, Kakashi sprang into action and started the nightly routine, which was officially behind schedule now as the time neared a quarter after nine o'clock. Naruto was bathed rather quickly, not leaving as much playtime as he would prefer, but his lack of protesting was mere proof it was past his bedtime. While you finished up the bath, Kakashi was getting Sasuke into his pajamas and helping him brush his teeth.

You couldn't help the swell of pride in your chest when the boys were finally in bed and listening to their Pa read them a bedtime story. Kakashi was sitting in between their little beds and animating the stories, as he did every time, with his voices and gestures. You had wonderful children, and the perfect man to raise them with alongside you.

You waited at the doorway for Kakashi to finish telling the story, and when he was done you both gave the boys goodnight hugs and kisses. They yawned and curled up in their beds, content settling in them for the night. With a soft click, their door was shut and they were officially down for the count.

Kakashi took your hand and led you to your own bedroom, kissing your knuckles before letting go. "Rest of the trip was cancelled." He explained simply, with a yawn he tried to hide in his elbow. "Bad weather coming."

"Not to be happy about work being disrupted but..." You cupped his face and smiled up at him, thumb brushing over his beauty mark. "I am glad you're home."

His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you close, and he laid his head on top of yours. "Me too. It's far too quiet on those trips; I can't function without Naruto's yelling."

You laughed and stood there for a while, just taking the time to relax and ease your minds. Time alone was scarce ever since the boys came into your care. Moments like these were sometimes all you could steal together. It wasn't until Kakashi started to lose his balance that you let go and moved away.

"Uh-uh, you are not falling asleep standing up again."

Your husband merely whined just like your sons would, first pulling off his shirt and pants, then flopping onto the bed face first, his arms stretched out with a happy sigh. He loved this bed, and loathed the ones in the hotels he had to sleep in during various business trips. "I should work from home..." He yawned into his pillow.

"You don't think it would drive you crazy?" You hummed, slipping into a nightgown before you approached the bed. You pressed one hand to the bare, warm skin of his toned back before lifting one knee onto the bed and crawling forward.

"You manage just fine."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I think you've forgotten your boys aren't in school yet."

"Why are they my boys when they're misbehaving and mischievous, but they're all yours when they're sweet and loving?" Kakashi deadpanned.

You kissed his shoulder blade and started to gently work some of the tension from his back. "Because they learned it from you."

All Kakashi could manage was an offended scoff. Silence fell between you and your husband, comfortably, as you massaged him. Several pleased groans escaped his lips and you felt him relax beneath you with each moment that passed.

"Tried to treat the boys with Mexican tonight." You muttered. "Driver stole the food. Had to improvise."

Kakashi hummed, accepting the reason why bedtime was late. Not that it mattered that much to him; on the rare occasion that you were the one out of town, he let the boys stay up until they fell asleep on their own. Of course, you weren't exactly aware of that tidbit of his parenting. "We'll make it up to them soon."

"Karura wants to set up a playdate soon for the boys and Gaara."

"I'm sure Sakura is itching to come play with Sasuke soon too." Kakashi mumbled, his eyes closed and body fully relaxed. "God, look at us..."

You chuckled softly. "To think we'd be parents." You murmured quietly. "We went from nice furniture and plenty of money to this in the blink of an eye."

Kakashi hummed, not committing himself any further into the conversation. He loved every bit of his life; nobody could ever say he didn't. The same went for you. Those boys would have to be pried from your cold, dead hands.

But admittedly, it'd be nice to freely have sex again. A benefit to being in a neighborhood with so many children the same age was the playdates and sleepovers. He'd be pawning the boys off for a night as soon as possible; god, he couldn't wait for them to start school.

You bit back a yawn in an attempt to hide it, but unfortunately your husband was more perceptive than you gave his current condition credit for. "I'm plenty comfy, honey. Lay down with me."

Kakashi turned the lights off while you settled in, then came around to envelop his warm, muscled body around yours. One large hand rubbed your belly absentmindedly, the other hand moving to tilt your chin up for a gentle kiss. You maintained the contact until the awkwardness of the position started to strain your neck, breaking the kiss after and settling back in as you were.

Your husband's lips had kept busy, scattering small kisses along your shoulder and neck for a few moments more. He gave you a final squeeze and adjusted your body slightly, so your rear was pressed just to his groin area. In that way, your bodies fit together just right, like puzzle pieces.

Kakashi pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He nuzzled his face in your hair. You clasped your fingers with the ones he had against your stomach, humming lightly. Just as you were about to succumb to sleep, little feet were padding against the hardwood floors of the hall, and with a considerable effort, your bedroom door was opened up. Kakashi held back his tired sigh and sat up to see his two boys standing at the door.

"Pa." Naruto whimpered, leading the charge to the king-sized bed. Sasuke followed closely behind him after closing the door back, Kakashi lifting them both into bed with you.

"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping at his eyes.

"Scary noise." Naruto was on the verge of tears at this point. You turned on your other side to face them and pulled the toddler into your arms, pressing a soft kiss into his blond hair.

"Probably the tree." Kakashi mumbled. There was a branch that would sometimes tap against the boy's bedroom window if it got windy enough. He just hadn't had any time to prune it lately.

He moved Sasuke to lay beside Naruto, pulling the comforter back over everyone. Sasuke snuggled deeply into Kakashi's chest once he laid back down. In the darkness, his eyes found yours as the boys quickly fell back asleep, now safe and sound with their parents.

"One day we'll get our bed back." He laughed softly.

"I'm in no rush." You murmured, cupping his face briefly. "Just as soon as the day comes that we get the bed back is the day that the boys will be too independent for Momma and Pa's bed."

Kakashi turned his head to kiss your palm before you settled it on Sasuke's tummy. He gently grasped Naruto's little hand with his finger and thumb, smiling when the boy instinctively closed his tiny fingers around his Pa's one big one. "You're right. As always."

You laughed softly and nuzzled Naruto gently while Kakashi gave Sasuke a few soft kisses on his rather chubby cheeks. All these boys were yours to love and love you in return. You would definitely savor each and every moment you had with them. As you learned four years ago: life was too fleeting to not appreciate everything you had. For the kid's sake, for you and Kakashi, for the four parents that wouldn't get to see their sons grow up, you would count your blessings and savor it all.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake x you #naruto #naruto shippuden #from the moment i started watching naruto i felt so motherly towards him #and as the series went on that feeling increased tenfold #that's my lil guy #my son #fic #papashi au

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