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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

Note

js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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ghostandsoap · 1 year

Text

Sweets and Suckers

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: None.

A/N: I decided to write this series of fics in third person. I was afraid that this reader is too specific to be in second person...although this still is *technically* an insert reader fic. Feedback is always greatly appreciated. I would love to know your thoughts on this new “series.” I’ll be writing a whole separate fic for their first time meeting so keep an eye out! This is a tester fic. Just to introduce our reader and test the waters. Also, I have no idea if it’s canon to whether or not Ghost smokes. I have a headcanon that he smokes when he’s stressed.

Word Count: 2.7k

“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.”

She wasn’t like anyone else that he had ever known.

She was the toughest, yet sweetest woman he had ever met. One minute she could be cursing out and beating the shit out of a blood thirsty, heartless terrorist…and the next she could be babying and gushing over Sergeant MacTavish because he got a papercut on his finger.

She had a way with words, but also a way with her fists. She could talk or fight her way out of anything, and Price had witnessed it himself on numerous occasions. She was fierce. She was a blaze of fire everywhere she went, tough as nails and overly aware of the darkness of the world around her.

And yet after all the evil that she had seen, she had a heart that was still as pure and bright as ever.

And he never expected to fall in love with her.

He was skeptical of her at first. Kate Laswell’s description of her didn’t make the most impressive image.

Laswell’s descriptions painted a certain picture in Captain Price’s mind. A sweet, innocent female who didn’t know the reality of this job and this world. A soldier that had too much hope for humanity and too much zest for life that blinded her to what was true.

And when he learned what her call sign was, he nearly laughed in Laswell’s face.

“Peach?” Price scoffed, a little off put by such a girlish call sign. “Why do they call her that?”

Kate only smiled knowing that Price was already underestimating her without ever seeing her face or seeing her in action.

“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate grinned. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”

Price fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he didn’t try to swallow down the dread that was bellowing up in his throat.

Great. An American.

It took Price some time to change his mind. Even after meeting her for the first time, he wasn’t so sure that she was the right kind of person for his team. If he was going to work with her, he needed her to be disciplined. He couldn’t afford another soldier that was unpredictable in nature. He needed someone he could trust, someone who he could depend on no matter what.

And much to Price’s surprise, he wasn’t totally discouraged when he first met her.

She didn’t look intimidating for the most part. She didn’t have the tall, broad stature like Simon Riley or the hard, cold stare like John MacTavish. She had a gentle look, a face that was lit up with a smile when the two of them locked eyes. On the surface, she didn’t look like the strict type…but there was something about her that Price could tell had a rough side to it.

She was easy on the eyes…very easy on the eyes. Price noticed that he had a hard time looking away from her.

“Captain Price,” She greeted, and her southern drawl made his chest feel fuzzy. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”

So I’ve heard.

“Sergeant,” Price extended his hand, the warmth of her grip tingling up his arm. “Pleasure to meet you.”

And from there, the rest was history.

Each and every day he saw more and more of her personality, and every day he found himself realizing how quick he had been to judge. He saw her sweet side and sour side. He saw how she adapted to every situation appropriately. She was intelligent, skilled, and always looking out for the people around her.

If anything, that was the thing that surprised him the most. She was selfless and would do anything for the people that she worked and spent the majority of her time with. She was everything he could’ve asked for when it came to working with someone.

Suddenly he was thinking about her when she wasn’t around. He wanted to talk to her about things that were more personal. His admiration turned into a romantic one, and he found himself wishing for a relationship that extended past professional.

The small talk turned into meaningful conversations. The passing glances turned into longing stares. The “accidental” touches turned into intentional ones. Before he knew it, he had grown to care for her. And before she knew it, she had grown to care for him.

That loud-mouthed, southern charm woman that had been thrown into his life was suddenly part of it so much more than he originally bargained for…but not that he was complaining.

His team loved her, and she worked with them well. They were protective over her the same way she was protective over them. She took care of them when they needed it, but sometimes her bedside manner came off a little aggressive.

“Quit movin’ so much,” She growled, tightening her grip on the man’s leg. “I’m gonna beat your ass if you do that again.”

“Wasn’t on purpose,” Ghost grumbled. “All of this because I was just trying to have a cigarette.”

“And that’s another thing!” She howled. “You’ve gotta chill with the cigarettes. Since when do you smoke this much?”

She was the best medic of the team. She had been trained by the best, and she was a natural caretaker. She was always quick to jump in when someone was hurt or sick. She never hesitated to fix someone up who (in her words) “needed fixin’”.

When it was something unavoidable or something that was a purely freak accident, she was like an angel nurse. A sweet, comforting tone and gentle mannerisms that could soothe even the most panicked patient. But when it was something more…stupid, she tended to be a little more irritable.

Simon Riley wasn’t usually the one to end up on the wrong side of her temper. It was almost always Soap or Gaz who came waddling in with some sort of self-inflicted injury that was from horsing around or “just to see what would happen.”

Ghost was much more careful. The only times he ever needed her help was when it was something really serious.

So when he came in hobbling on one foot and with a look of embarrassment in his eyes, she knew his streak had been broken. Now she was in a makeshift infirmary in a base in the middle of nowhere, trying to keep him still long enough just to get a good look at his giant’s foot.

“I only do it when I’m uptight,” Ghost muttered, feeling like he was being scolded as if he were a child. “I went outside for a smoke and my fucking ankle just gave out on me.”

Suddenly, her expression changed. A rush of empathy flooded her heart and her eyes morphed into a sensitive look. Ghost knew that she was only being so hard on him because she cared. She worried about his respiratory health due to the cigarettes. She worried about his mental state because he was feeling overwhelmed. Ghost appreciated her concern, but it just seemed like she worried more about others than herself.

“Awh, Simon…” She sighed. “It has been a hard past few weeks.”

“You can say that again,” He adjusted his skull mask on his face, to avoid yelping in pain at how she was touching the hurt part of his foot. “Although, I can’t blame that on me busting up my ankle for no reason.”

“Well, the terrain’s not so level here,” She returned, holding his foot steady in her hands. “Somethin’ probably just snagged your foot when you were walkin’ by.”

A few minutes of silence passed as she finished looking him over. Ghost strained and fought to keep himself from making any noises of discomfort. He hated being held back like this, and it didn’t help when Captain Price decided to stop by.

“What’s he in for?” Price leaned against the doorway, a grin of amusement on his face.

She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he had a smirk on his face. She could feel his demeanor from where she sat with her back towards him. She was always happy to see him, but right now she had Ghost to finish tending to.

“Ankle,” She replied, releasing his foot from her hands. “Just twisted it.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Price snickered.

She couldn’t help but laugh, but she knew Ghost was feeling lousy, so she didn’t entertain any of Price’s jokes.

“Well, I don’t think it’s broken. I’ll stabilize it and I want you to try to keep weight off of it. Ibuprofen should help with the pain, and I think I’ve got some packs for the swelling.” She said to Ghost, who was just ready to go.

She was true to her word, working carefully and gently to make a splint for his foot, something to keep him from hurting it more. Price enjoyed watching her work. She was so focused and so serious about making sure he was getting the best care possible.

“I appreciate it, Peach. I guess this is my sign to stop smoking, huh?’ Ghost chuckled, his smooth voice sounding a little bit more lively than usual.

“Damn right it is,” She replied. “But for now, just worry about this foot healin’ up.”

She helped the monstrously tall man to his feet…or foot, rather – and made sure that he could manage to shift his weight to the other foot. He towered over her, as he did most people, but he was leaning on her like she was her lifeline. Once he was balanced, he was good to go.

“If you need anything, you let me know, okay?” She smiled, that sweet voice sounding out. She reached into her medic bag and retrieved a comfort charm of sorts. “Here’s a little treat for your troubles.”

Ghost’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the small, light pink lollipop, his fingers greedily peeling off the wrapper.

“Oh, now I know why Johnny’s getting himself banged up all the time,” Ghost raised the lower part of his mask to put the candy in his mouth. “Thanks again, Doc.” He muffled through sucking on the lollipop.

Ghost limped out of the room, but he was moving better than he was when he walked in. Price watched as Ghost made it out of his sight before he turned back to her. Knowing that her attention was free, he spoke again.

“He’s a grown man, Peaches.” He chuckled. “You’re softening up my men.”

She spun around in her chair, that radiant smile taking his breath away as it always did.

“I’m surely not!” She squeaked. “I’m always takin’ care of you, aren’t I?”

“Of course. But I don’t ever get sweets.” He claimed, and her brows furrowed.

“You mean suckers?” She corrected.

“Sweets.” He argued, but in the most playful way.

“Suckers.” She bantered.

This happened all the time. They had very different dialects and very different ways of saying things. She even argued with other Americans about certain words and phrases she used. A southern U.S. accent really is one of a kind, and Price never let her get away with it.

“Alright, well, I never get suckers.” He mocked her accent on the word in question, and she gasped.

“John!” She hissed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face to save her life. “And the reason I don’t give you sweets is because you steal them out of my bag when I’m not looking.”

Now it was his turn to be offended, but only because he had no idea that she had caught on.

“I am appalled at such an accusation,” He clutched his hand to his chest. “How dare you accuse me of being a thief.”

She stood from her seat, reaching for his hand to pull him into the room. His cheeks flushed pink at her gesture, because he knew that it had been a little while since they had a moment alone together. It was hard to get even a few minutes alone when there was so much to be done and so many people around.

“Mm. ‘Cause you only take certain ones, and I know when they go missing.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, which caused the heat in his cheeks to spread to his ears.

“And which ones are those?” He grinned again, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes at him, because she had walked right into this one.

“The cherry and peach ones.” She sighed, shaking her head at his antics.

He was entertained. She knew him like the back of her hand at this point, the same way that he knew her. He loved nothing more than seeing her figure out something about him without him even telling her.

Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she had figured out that he was the one stealing her “suckers.” Although, it would’ve been really easy to frame Soap for their disappearance.

“Oh? And I wonder why that is…” He continued.

“Cherry is your favorite, and peach reminds you of me.” She laughed under her breath, and hearing her say it brought so much pride to his soul.

“Ah, of course,” He ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Such a smart girl…”

She couldn’t help but look away. If there was anyone who could make her shy, it was John Price. He kissed her then, her grin and giggle vibrating on his lips. They had missed one another, even though they hadn’t gone a day without seeing one another.

“How are things today?” She asked, changing the subject.

“The same as yesterday. And the day before…and the day before,” He answered. “I’m tired of sitting around.”

“I know. Me too,” She kissed him again, and his hands squeezed her hips. “Just a couple more days. Then we’ll be up and movin’ along.”

He grumbled. Price was never one to enjoy the waiting game. He could only play so many rounds of poker with Gaz or tell so many stories with Soap before the boredom started chewing away at him. But that was the reality of some missions: just waiting until the right time to put the plan into action.

“You make it sound so easy.” He chuckled.

“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.” She grinned.

“You also treat my men like princesses,” He countered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be painting their nails and Soap’s going to walk out in a dress.”

“Please. Soap would do that for five dollars,” She scoffed. “This is why I don’t give you any of my suckers.”

“Oh, that’s cruel, Peachy.” He groaned. “If you give me one, I promise not to make fun of the word ‘sucker’ and I won’t say anything about you turning my team into your squad of girlfriends.”

“Fine. Deal,” She stepped out of his hold to reach for her bag. “Cherry?”

“Duh.” He sassed, and she rolled her eyes.

She rummaged through her bag to find a cherry lollipop, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him.

“I think I’m out of cherry ones, honey bun.” She told him, and his jaw dropped open.

“That’s impossible. There were three in there this morning.” He gawked.

“How do you know how many there were if you haven’t been takin’ them out of my bag?” She questioned, not even hiding the victorious expression on her features.

“Uhm…” He paused. “I guessed?”

“Bullshit!” She snatched a cherry pop out of her bag as if it were damning evidence. “You have been stealing ‘em!”

“I think that stealing is a mighty strong word,” He said. “Think of it more as…helping myself. Besides, I always make it up to you, don’t I?”

She held the stick towards him, and he didn’t hesitate to take it.

“I suppose so,” She watched as he removed the wrapper and popped it into his mouth. “What’s gonna happen if Soap comes in here and I’m out of suckers?”

Price chuckled as he swirled the candy in his mouth.

“He’ll live. It might do him some good.” Price reached for her waist again, pulling her back into his chest.

“You know, I can just keep a stash just for you. All the cherry ones.” She suggested.

“You’d do that for me?” His eyes lit up, removing the sucker from his mouth. “Cherry and peach ones?”

She snuck a kiss then, a very cherry tasting one that danced over her lips.

“Sure. And the peach ones.”

#john price #john price x reader #john price x fem! reader #John price x female reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #john price x peach #john price x 'peach'#john price imagine #john price imagines #john price oneshot #john price oneshots #john price fanfiction #modern warfare ii #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 fanfiction #ghostandsoap

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kpopsexstories · 2 months

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Could you please make a haechan x reader story with lots of dirty talking and him meeting the reader on stage and like they make out backstage after? Please make the reader female thank you and happy Valentine's Day

One-shot #1: Lee Dong-Hyuck spots you in the audience and takes you backstage for a hot make-out session (*requested*)

This is the first story in my Mixed One-shots series, with smut that can be about any group, member and even non-kpop celebrities. Unlike my Quick Fix series, One-shots can be a little longer and story-driven.

This story is a response to the above request. Thanks for submitting requests, they're super motivating 😊

One-shot #1: LEE DONG-HYUCK (NCT Haechan)

Celebrity: Lee Dong-hyuck (NCT Haechan)

Content: Dirty talk, Standing

Type of Sex: MEDIUM

Word Count: 4k

When NCT announced a show you would actually be able to attend you were ecstatic. When you managed to get tickets, you nearly screamed yourself mute of happiness. That indescribable feeling of joy was the best day of your life – so far.

Then came the day of the event, which trumped anything else. During and after the show, several things happened that would make it a day you would never forget. Several once-in-a-lifetime memories were made that day, and you still can't believe what happened.

First of all, you had an excellent spot, in the pit by the stage. It meant seeing your idols up close, and only a few songs in you were already coarse from all the screaming.

Second, Haechan spotted you in the crowd, and he couldn't take his eyes off you for the remainder of the performance. Every time he came on stage he looked for you, and he passed your section more than any other throughout the night. At one point, your presence even made him forget the lyrics. The crowd went wild; they loved his adorable mess-up, and Haechan was so cute the way he handled it by laughing it off. You could swear he gave you a naughty wink afterwards.

Third, the highlight – by far – was not the show itself though. It was what happened after.

A security guard approached you as the arena was clearing out, and for a moment your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. Your instinct told you that you were in trouble for something, but you had no idea what.

The guard tried to calm you down but failed. He took you backstage, where your worry only intensified. But it was quickly replaced with a mix of shock, excitement and joy, when you were led into a small room where someone was waiting for you.

The room had a small couch in the center, a vending machine, and a desk with two computers against the far wall. It looked like a combination of a lounging area and make-shift office. Haechan was sitting on the couch, and he quickly jumped up and smiled when he saw you.

“Hi!” he exclaimed.

You were stunned. “Ehm, hi?” you eventually managed to say, and a sudden nervous feeling rushed over you. The security guard nodded to Haechan, then turned to you to ask if you were okay. You smiled back at him as confirmation, and he quickly left the room and closed the door behind him.

“What's going on?” you asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Haechan said. He quickly realized how odd the situation must be for you. ”I mean, I saw you in the crowd. You seemed so into the show. I wanted to, ehm, I wanted to… to thank you for coming, I guess? And to see if maybe you wanted a backstage tour, or something? Maybe I didn't think this through…”

A number of thoughts raced through your mind. When the initial shock had settled, you figured that the members offering private tours was perhaps a normal thing. But there was something about the way Haechan explained himself that made it all feel wrong.

And so, you composed yourself, and took a direct, honest and visibly skeptical approach, one Haechan probably didn't expect. “Do you usually bring girls to private rooms like this?”

Haechan was now the one who became nervous, as this was certainly not a normal occurrence at all. But instead of being apologetic and explain himself further, the words that came out of his mouth were those he was actually thinking:

“Only pretty ones.”

He immediately regretted the words. He knew he was crossing boundaries. But this statement was a turning point, an important moment that would define the direction of the rest of your evening.

You could have laughed it off, and simply accepted the tour he had offered. You could have questioned him further, and maybe taken offense by the way your idol objectified you so openly. Or you could have freaked out, acting like the fan girl that you were, overwhelmed by the fact that you were alone in a room with a man whose posters were plastered all over your walls.

Instead, you did exactly what a lot of girls would have wanted to do in your situation, but which very few would likely dare to do. Haechan's words had given you an opening, and you, too, said exactly what came to mind.

“I can be more than just pretty for you.”

Haechan let out a laugh, then his face turned dead serious when he realized you weren't laughing along with him. “Like what?” he asked, throwing the ball back in your court.

You took a step closer to the man. “You're still sweaty from the show,” you noted and smiled.

“Does that turn you off?” Haechan asked.

“No, it turns me on,” you said.

That's how quickly your relationship was established, and from here things escalated fast.

Making out starts here...

Now, Haechan was the one to take a step closer to you. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to read you. You did the same to him. To anyone watching from the outside, it was clear that something was going on between you. It had been obvious to both of you already during the performance, when your eyes constantly met and your heart was beating so fast. What you always suspected had now been confirmed; Haechan had been checking you out.

Now, in this room, the spark between you became real. And perhaps that's why you dared to take a big risk. When Haechan entered your personal space, you quickly leaned in and kissed him.

Haechan didn't even hesitate. He immediately kissed you back, and before you knew it you were making out, next to the couch in the middle of the room.

Haechan put his hands on your waist, and pushed your body back. He followed you passionately as you took multiple steps backwards, and never took his lips off yours. Soon you hit the closed door behind you with a bang. was security still around? Any staff walking past outside surely must have heard.

The desire you had always felt for the idol, and the one he had felt all evening, quickly took hold of you both. Pinned against the back of the door, you continued to make out with a sudden wild, untamed passion. Haechan's hands were on your waist and ass before you had a chance to react, and once you did react you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

What happened was insane, but that fact never crossed your mind in the moment. You had desired the man for years, and now he wanted you too. You were more than happy to just roll with it.

While you eagerly sucked and kissed each other's lips, Haechan let his hands explore your body. He briefly touched your breast, and a hand soon slid inside your shirt. You didn't stop him.

“Damn you're sexy,” Haechan moaned. “I swear though, I've never done this before.”

And it was the truth. Though you didn't know what to believe, Haechan was not he type of guy to bring random fans backstage to make out with them. He had spotted you, been unable to take his mind off you, and taken a chance by bringing you here. He had never expected that things would go in the direction they now did, and certainly not this fast.

And the fact that things continued was largely thanks to you. When Haechan started talking dirty to you, you immediately jumped onboard.

“Fuck, Hyuck,” you said. “You're so hot.”

When you said his name, Haechan pressed his body closer against yours. You spread your legs slightly, feeling his pelvis rub against yours. You wanted each other so bad, and all barriers had already been broken down.

“Oh, baby,” Haechan continued. ”I'm so sweaty because you're the one who's so hot. The way you moved your body in the audience. I didn't see anyone else, it was as if I was performing only for you. You made me so horny, you have no idea.”

“Ah, keep talking.”

“I had to sit down on stage because of you. You took my breath away, and made me so hard. I had to hide my boner. And damn, you're a bad girl aren't you, because you made me forget the lyrics.”

You held on tight around Haechan's neck, as he kept moaning into your mouth in between violent kisses. His hands on your waist inside your shirt felt warm and comforting, and were an incredible turn-on.

“Ahh, your body feels so good,” he continued. ”Mm, baby, are you really here? Is this really happening?”

“I'm here,” you said and smiled, while sticking your tongue out. The wet tips of your tongues met, and you began to play around in each other's mouths.

The way Haechan spoke to you was an insane turn-on too, and you wanted to encourage him further. “What do you want to do to me?” you asked.

“I wanna lick you. Daamn, I'm so fucking horny right now.”

Haechan's hand moved up your waist and found your breast under the shirt. He cubbed it over your bra, and he suddenly stopped sucking your tongue and buried his face in your neck. He quickly began to lick it, with long, wet strokes against your skin.

A shiver went down your spine when Haechan traced your neck. You held on tighter around him, and moved an arm down around his waist and back. When his body pressed hard against yours, you raised a leg and wrapped it around his thighs.

“Ahh, Hyuck, this feels amazing!” you said, and you could swear you felt the boner in his pants. ”Don't stop, please. Suck my neck, Hyuck. Mm, yeah, I'm so wet.”

“Fuck babe, so eager,” Haechan grinned by your ear. He raised his head and kissed your cheek. ”I don't even know your name.”

“Who's eager?” you asked and giggled, then turned to face him and quickly re-focused the dirty talk. “I'll be anything for you, remember? I'll be your slut if you want me to.”

Maybe that was going too far, but you felt no regrets. And to your relief, Haechan was onboard too.

“Ohh, yeah, my sexy slut,” he moaned into your mouth, while rubbing the full length of his body passionately against you. He started to rock his hips back and forth, pressing his boner harder and harder between your legs. ”You make me so fucking horny. I'm so glad I met you. You're such a hot slut and I love it. Do you always come back stage to have sex with the band?”

You laughed again, and suddenly pulled Haechan's head back by the hair. “Who said anything about sex?” you asked with a naughty grin.

“Oh, come on, you asked what I wanted to do to you. I don't believe you'd call yourself a slut if you weren't talking about sex.”

You looked him in the eye and smiled. “You're right, I wouldn't. It's any fan's dream to have sex with you, isn't it? Fuck, Hyuck, you make us all so weak. Who wouldn't want your cock inside them? I bet you're great with it too, aren't you?”

“Mm, damn girl, I like the way you talk. That's right, stroke my ego.”

“I know a lot of girls who would kill to see you naked.”

Haechan brushed his nose against your face, and bent in to lick the other side of your neck. “Is that what you want, huh? To see me naked? Maybe today is my lucky day.”

You tightened the grip of your leg around Haechan's thigh, squeezing his boner between your bodies.

“I want your cock inside me,” you whispered, then pulled his face back up and stuck your tongue in his mouth again.

Haechan was getting weak in his knees, but met your tongue with his. You loosened the grip of his hair and continued to make out, while he slammed his hips repeatedly against you.

When his boner kept poking at you at a steady pace, desire took a new hold of Haechan. He never responded to your last statement, but stuck his hand further up your shirt. He grabbed your neck, and the shirt slid so far up that your bra came out. He was all over you, and it felt incredible.

As he dry-humped you against the door, and your chest became increasingly bare, you eventually reached down to grab his shirt. You pulled at it, and you soon felt his bare back with the palm of your hand.

When your skin touched his, Haechan suddenly took a step back. Your leg slid down his thigh, as he took his shirt and rapidly pulled it over his head. His hair became messy, and he stared at you with his mouth half open, while you glanced down at his bare chest.

“Fuck,” you said with a serious expression. “I just realized that this is real. What are we doing?”

“Don't you want to?” Haechan asked, standing half-naked, horny and exposed in front of you.

“Of course I want to. This is a dream come true. A wonderful, sexy dream.”

Haechan seemed very pleased with your response, and he attacked you with his mouth, tongue and hands again. His hand went back far up your shirt, and his naked chest and stomach rubbed erotically up and down your body.

“Damn, you really are so hot and slutty,” Haechan said while massaging your breasts and poking you with his boner. ”Fuck you're sexy!”

The whole situation made you so incredibly horny. The feeling of his body, the unashamed words he spoke, the thrilling turn of events that had happened in the last fifteen minutes of your life. While he talked dirty to you, sucked your mouth and played around with his tongue inside you, and his bare chest pressed hard against yours, you reached down between you and found the belt of his pants.

You managed to get it open, and pulled it off him with a fast yank. When the belt was off, the pants immediately slid down his legs, and you felt the boner for real for the first time. A hard shaft rubbed against you through the thin fabric of Haechan's black underwear.

“Ahh, ahh,” Haechan began to pant in your ear. The rubbing of the shaft did things to him, wonderful things, and he stopped licking and kissing you altogether.

“Take it off,” he requested when he tugged your shirt, which was already up to your neck anyway. “I wanna feel your sexy body. Mm, I wanna feel all of it so bad, you're so fucking good babe.”

“Fan of the year award?” you asked in a playful tone.

“Fan of the year award,” Haechan confirmed and grinned.

With a smile on your face, you placed a hand on Haechan's chest and pushed him away from you. You let him watch as you pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside, then proceeded to pull your pants down for him. You let your panties come with them and they drop to the floor. Haechan was mesmerized, and drooled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed, then looked you in the eyes. Then he quickly leaped forward, attacking you with his hands and lips once more.

Passionate is an understatement. When he pressed you hard against the door again, you kicked your pants off your feet and jumped. You spread your legs wide and wrapped them around Haechan's ass and thighs, as he explored your naked ass with his hands and pinned you to the door. His boner poked against you repeatedly.

“Mm, Haechan,” you moaned. “Fuck me, Haechan, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Sex starts here...

Haechan suddenly reached down with one hand and grabbed his underwear. He pulled them down forcefully, rapidly as to not drop you to the floor in the process. His hard cock was freed, but you never got a chance to see it. He quickly thrust it against you, and it got squeezed between your stomachs.

Haechan took a firm grip around your ass cheeks and you adjusted your legs around him. You spread them as wide as you could for him, and held on tight around his neck.

The cock quickly found it's way, when Haechan stuck his ass out to give the cock some space. He kept thrusting passionately against you, and the cock poked around until you felt the head slide inside you. You were so wet, and he was so hard, that the whole shaft came inside you with ease.

“Ohh,” you moaned as you felt the throbbing shaft go deeper.

“Such a naughty girl,” Haechan grinned. “I'll fuck you so hard. You're so bad, coming here and doing these things to me, you deserve to be punished.”

“Oh yeah, punish me Hyuck. Punish me with your big dick.”

Haechan's thrusting quickly turned rough and animalistic, and his moans in your ear were full of lust. He moved his ass fast back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of you. You tightened your legs around his waist, and held on to his neck and shoulders for dear life. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, as he fucked you violently against the door.

“Ah, Haechan, I've been so bad!”

“Are you a bad girl?” Haechan asked.

“I'm a bad girl! Punish me, I deserve it. I'm your fucking slut! Oh yeah, fuck me Hyuck, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Haechan began to sweat again, your weight taking its toll on his arms. His thigh muscles worked hard, his grasp of your ass cheeks tightened, and his butt cheeks clenched each time he slammed his cock deep inside you.

You looked down and opened your mouth, and your lips met his again. You stuck your tongue out, and you began playing around in each other's mouths again, while breathing heavily into each other.

“Ah, Haechan,” you moaned loudly. “Hyuck, ah, ah, never, stop, Hyuck! Ah, ah, ah. Never. Stop. Fucking. Me!”

If there was a chance that anyone heard the bang when you first hit the door, there was no way no one heard you now. As Haechan kept fucking you violently, the door rattled and banged repeatedly each time your back and ass slammed against it. And your moans almost turned into screams, loud and with not a care in the world for who might pass by in the corridor on the other side.

The thought that anyone might hear you had never even crossed your mind. You were both in your own bubble, taken over by lust and sexual desire, and still surprised by how quickly things had gone this far.

You found it crazy and hard to believe that such a big star had taken an interest in you. And he found it hard to believe that he had not only managed to invite you backstage, but that you proved to be just as dirty and horny as he was. That he now got to have sex with you felt great to him. Neither of you would truly realize and appreciate the insane experience until several days after it had happened, as the bubble of incredible, spontaneous sex didn't leave much room to reflect.

The bubble burst, however, when someone suddenly tried to open the door from outside. It was pushed hard against you, and Haechan nearly lost his balance.

Surprised, he quickly let go of your ass and took a step back. His cock slid out of you. Your feet fell to the ground, and your heart sank when you realized that someone was in fact entering the room.

A strong fear quickly rushed through you. Haechan, who felt the same fear, faced the door like a deer caught in headlights. His first reaction was to cover his crotch with his hands.

Naked, in shock, and with his arms stretched and hands between his legs, he stared at the door when Johnny appeared behind it.

You were just as shocked, and your reaction was to immediately leap for your shirt on the floor and cover yourself as best you could. You quickly leaned against the wall behind the door, staring with fear at the figure peeking out behind it.

Johnny too looked surprised when he entered. It took him a second to register what he had walked in on. He glared at Haechan, who stood naked with his pants by his ankles, then quickly glanced at you. He looked back at Haechan, then he burst out laughing.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry!” he said, but he didn't move. His hand was still on the door handle, and he had a huge smile on his face.

“Fuck,” he repeated. “I should leave, shouldn't I? I'm sorry!”

With that, he quickly stepped out and closed the door behind him. Haechan immediately leaped forward and locked it.

“I should have done that from the start,” he said with a serious expression. He looked at you, and took his hand off his crotch. The dick between his legs was still rock hard.

“I'm sorry,” he said, suddenly afraid that he'd just lost you. You'd likely want to leave after what just happened.

But that was not the case. You had just seen Johnny, who was once your bias. It didn't matter that you were naked at the time. He had looked you in the eye, seen you, and spoken to you. You were incredibly excited about that, and it didn't matter that you'd just been caught in the act.

“Don't be sorry,” you said and let go of the shirt. “Can we keep going, or do you need to leave now?”

“I don't want to go anywhere. I want to lock myself in here forever. I'll never hear the end of this.”

Haechan looked like a helpless puppy, as he waddled over to the couch and kicked the pants off his feet. He sat down on the armrest, and suddenly seemed defeated.

“Hey, it happened,” you said and walked over to the man. You spread your legs and sat down on his thighs, looked down at him reassuringly and kissed his forehead. ”He saw, he left, there's nothing we can do about it now. And the door is locked now.”

Haechan raised his head, straightened his spine, placed his hands on your thighs, and smiled up at you.

“You're crazy, do you know that?” he said with a smirk.

“Not much crazier than you. You're the one who got me here.”

You smiled lovingly at him, then continued: “You know, I'm not really a slut. But being here released something in me. We've known each other for what, twenty minutes, not counting all that time you eyed me from the stage. And you've already seen me naked and been inside me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Haechan said. “This is crazy, isn't it. Wanna stop? I can still give you that tour.”

“And face Johnny, who has surely run off to tell the boys? Nah, I'd rather stay here and be your slut.”

Haechan laughed at the joke, which technically wasn't a joke at all. “Oh yeah?” he said, turning his naughty side back on. “And what would a slut like you do to me?”

You tilted back on top of him while he held on to your waist, then you reached behind your back and took off your bra, which until now had stayed on this whole time.

Completely naked on top of your new lover, you placed your hand on Haechan's chest and forcefully pushed him backwards onto the couch. You leaped down with him, and sat down on top of him.

“I can think of lots of things,” you said seductively, while you slowly started to roll your hips over his crotch, pleasuring his hard cock. Haechan grinned longingly at you, and let his hands move up your waist. When he touched your breasts you leaned forward, kissed the idol, and stuck your tongue inside his mouth again.

“Tonight I'm your slut, Hyuck, and you are mine, okay?”

“Okay,” Haechan moaned. “I'm your fucking crazy, dirty slut.”

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

in my head (series)

Chapter Six: Warm Sapphires

Larissa Weems x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

words: ~2.6k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: none

chapter summary: With the Rave'N quickly approaching, preparations are in full swing. What will it be - will the two of you dance around your feelings for each other? Or will you finally dance with each other?

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat the entire way to her quarters. She went about her nighttime routine in a daze, thoughts continually drifting back to your evening together. Soon, Larissa found herself standing at the foot of her bed, grinning like a fool at the memory of your little protective streak at dinner. She shook her head lightly, unable to stop the blush rising in her cheeks, and climbed into bed.

Larissa didn’t have to be a mind reader to realize that you’d wanted her to join you in your quarters when you’d gotten back to Nevermore. She could see it in the awkward shuffling of your feet, in your blown pupils, in the way you subtly and subconsciously bit the inside of your cheek. And, oh, how she’d wanted to.

But something had held Larissa back, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind. A feeling which she tried with all the strength she had within her to push down - a feeling that the sex meant more to her than it did to you. And, more importantly, a feeling that her feelings were taking on a life of their own.

What had started off as a way to blow off steam from her demanding career (with the added bonus of Larissa finding you extremely desirable, of course), had turned into something more. It had turned into something that Larissa couldn’t quite name - didn’t dare name.

What had once been a throbbing between her legs at the sight of you had morphed into a quickening of her pulse and a fluttering in her tummy. What had once been a burning hunger to see you unravel beneath her had turned into a desire for your bright smile to be directed at her, for your hand to warm her own.

Larissa felt frozen in time, wanting to make a move but so hopelessly unsure of herself. She wished she could read your mind, to catch a glimpse of the nature of your own feelings - what an unfair advantage you had. Could you see the parts of herself that Larissa was trying desperately to hide? Did you already know of her feelings, simply choosing not to say anything to spare her dignity?

Larissa was unable to stop her mind from racing, her thoughts circling in an endless loop until, sometime shortly before dawn, her body finally won and she fell into a fitful sleep.

~~~

Marilyn stood outside your classroom door with a binder tucked under her arm, greeting your kids as they filtered out of your classroom. When the stream of students had dissipated, she entered the room and strode over to your desk with a bright smile.

“Principal Weems told me you’d be helping me with the Rave’N?” The redhead was practically vibrating with excitement and you bit back the grin spreading across your own face.

“Y/N L/N, at your service,” you teased, giving her a salute.

“Do you have a minute to go over some details?”

You nodded and Marilyn pulled a chair up to your desk, setting the binder in front of you.

“So what’s the theme?” you asked as Marilyn began to rifle through the papers.

“Climate crisis meets extinction event.” She grinned and you shot her a quizzical glance, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t be so skeptical - it’ll be fun! Let me show you what I have so far.”

Marilyn took you through her ideas for the dance - music, food and drinks, decorations - all outlined meticulously in separate sections with colorful sample sketches and detailed descriptions.

She asked for your input on different ideas she’d come up with and the two of you spent the afternoon settling on the specifics. Minutes turned into hours but by the end of your meeting, you were happy with the outcome - hopefully Larissa would be just as pleased, you thought.

Marilyn stood to leave. “I’ll set up a meeting later this week with Principal Weems to present her with the final plans.” For a moment, she seemed worried, shifting from foot to foot and biting her lip. “We still need her seal of approval.”

You stood as well, placing your hand on her arm in a soothing gesture. “Don’t worry so much. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Marilyn smiled hesitantly. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know Larissa, I’m pretty sure she’s just thrilled she doesn’t have this on her plate as well.”

“If you say so.” A knowing smirk crossed Marilyn’s face and, for a moment, you wondered if what you’d said could somehow be misinterpreted. You shook the thoughts from your head as Marilyn pulled you into a quick hug and bid you farewell.

~~~

Later that week you found yourself in Larissa’s office, sitting across from her at her desk with Marilyn by your side. The redhead took the lead, energetically presenting your plans to the principal while you tried your hardest to focus on what was being said - though focus, apparently, did not come easy to you whenever Larissa was around.

“And you’ve already booked the DJ?” Larissa’s eyes flicked between you and Marilyn, though her gaze lingered on your own for a brief moment. A lovely blush colored her face, so faint you would’ve missed it if you didn’t know Larissa as well as you did.

“Yes, of course,” Marilyn nodded emphatically, smiling smugly at Larissa’s praise. If she noticed the blush, she chose not to comment.

“Well, consider me impressed, Ms. Thornhill, Ms. Y/L/N. You seem to have everything under control.” Larissa slid a paper across the desk listing the names of a few other faculty members. “I hope you don’t mind, I thought you might use some extra help - I’ve taken the liberty of enlisting a few more volunteers for the set-up before the Rave’N.”

“Oh! Thank you - you didn’t have to do that,” you said, reaching out for the paper. Your fingertips brushed against hers and you glanced up at her shyly, your cheeks slowly turning crimson at the dazzling smile she gave you in return. You quickly dropped your gaze to scan the list, pointedly avoiding Larissa’s eyes.

What you completely missed as you stared fixedly down at the paper was the way Larissa’s gaze softened as she caught your blush, and the way Marilyn glanced between the two of you as if watching a tennis match.

Finally, Marilyn cleared her throat, and both your face and Larissa’s face snapped up to look at her at in perfect time. “If the two of you are done…” she raised an eyebrow and your face burned even brighter. “I should get going, I have a lesson to prepare. Thank you for your time, Principal Weems, I appreciate your support!” She plucked the paper from your hands, tucking it into her binder and rising from her chair.

You glanced at Larissa whose expression was unreadable as she fixed her gaze on your colleague.

“Thank you, Ms. Thornhill. I can’t wait to see how everything comes together.” Larissa smiled, her voice every ounce the professional she was, avoiding your eyes as she spoke with Marilyn.

The other woman began to walk towards the door. “Y/N, are you coming?”

You fidgeted in your chair, taking just a bit longer to answer than was appropriate. “Uh, yeah, I’m coming.” You offered Larissa a shy smile. “I’ll see you later.” Larissa simply nodded, mirroring your own smile and watching as you stood and followed Marilyn out of the office.

~~~

With the Rave’N quickly approaching, the decoration of Nevermore’s great hall had begun. Some of the other volunteer teachers were carrying in small, round tables and silver, straight-backed chairs, putting them into position as per the chart Marilyn had, of course, created for them.

You took to setting up the long buffet table at the far end of the room and Marilyn sidled up next to you to supervise.

“You know I always wished my high school prom had been more extravagant,” Marilyn sighed wistfully. “I guess this is my way of giving these kids what I wish I’d had. With some extra Outcast flair, of course.”

You smiled ruefully. “I didn’t have the best time at my own Rave’N either…”

“What was your Rave’N like?”

“Horrible,” you chuckled darkly. “My girlfriend broke up with me a whole two days beforehand. We got into a huge fight and… I don't know. I didn’t want to go but my roommate forced me to - something about life going on? Anyway, it was awful, I just kept bumping into my ex and I ended up leaving halfway through.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Marilyn looked regretful, but you simply shrugged.

“It was a long time ago, I’m not hung up on it or anything. I never liked school dances or big crowds to begin with anyway, so that made it worse, you know?”

“You deserve a do-over.”

You laughed. “What are you suggesting?”

“You should ask Larissa to be your date.”

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. “Marilyn!” You hissed as your eyes widened in shock, keeping your voice low in fear that another teacher would pass by and hear you. “She’s my boss.”

Marilyn’s returning smirk was almost predatory. “So? That never stopped you from sleeping with her.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at her statement. “Marilyn!” you screeched, pure panic overriding any sense of subtlety.

The redhead rolled her eyes and snorted. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, the two of you are about as subtle as a brick.”

“You still don’t have to broadcast it to the whole school! You don’t think anyone else has caught on, do you?” You began to worry your bottom lip between your teeth, ice sluicing through your veins at the thought of your colleagues finding out and losing respect for Larissa, after how hard she worked to keep up her reputation.

Marilyn’s smirk morphed into a kind smile as she noted your genuine fear. “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone has read into it as much as I have. It’s just… we’re friends, you know? You can’t hide your feelings from me. You do know how Larissa looks at you?”

You froze.

“H-how does she look at me?” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat as you waited for Marilyn to respond.

She grinned, her voice dropping to a soft whisper. “You really can’t tell, can you?” She chuckled. “She looks at you as if you hung the stars in the sky.”

Your pulse quickened as you thought back to the one time you’d read Marilyn’s mind, after coming back to your quarters in the middle of the night. When Larissa had looked out over the quad after the Poe Cup… she couldn’t have been looking at you, could she?

You swallowed thickly as a blush crept up your neck, spreading a lovely pink hue across your cheeks and climbing like ivy up to the tips of your ears. Marilyn’s grin only widened as she clocked the epiphany that had dawned upon you.

“What… what do I do?” Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears - your mind was miles away, replaying every interaction you’d had with the woman in the past weeks and zeroing in on the carefree smiles gracing Larissa’s face whenever you were around, the rosy tint to her cheeks in the moments where you seemed to fluster her with a sweet gesture or a suggestive comment, the increasing tenderness in her kisses and her touches as of late.

Had you really just been that stupid all along, not noticing the signs that were right in front of you? Like when she hadn’t corrected the receptionist at the spa who thought you were a couple? But. But - she’d been adamant to call you a ‘friend’. She’d never made any move to advance your relationship. Your thoughts warred with one another, no clear winner in sight.

Marilyn scoffed. “You get your girl, that’s what you do.”

“But what if I’m reading into things that aren’t there?” You’d be sick at the desperation in your own voice if you weren’t so focused on tamping down all your hopes, afraid of getting your heart stomped on as it had been too often in the past.

“Listen to me, Y/N. You might be… close with Larissa, but I’ve worked here much longer than you have and I’ve seen my fair share. She’s… relaxed a whole lot in the past few months. Not to mention I’ve never seen her blush before - she only seems to do that when you’re around.” Marilyn laughed. “The two of you act like teenagers around each other. It would almost be cute if I didn’t have to spend all day around teenagers as is.”

The lighthearted gibe made you chuckle in spite of yourself - and it had given you a lot to think about. Perhaps it was time you asked Larissa out - properly.

~~~

The Rave’N had come together quite nicely - seeing Marilyn’s vision slowly unfold with your own eyes and seeing how enthusiastic she was about the whole ordeal flooded you with affection for your friend, even managing to get you a bit excited for the evening.

You finished your final sweep of the great hall, ensuring nothing was out of place, a pleased smile on your face - you couldn’t decide what you liked the most; the ice sculpture centerpieces, jutting out like jagged crystals on each of the little round tables; the fog machines blasting an icy smoke that hung low over the dance floor; the glint of the disco ball in the white and baby blue strobe lights. Probably, though, it was the DJ booth that looked like it was carved out of ice, giving way to a massive ice sculpture of a yeti. Marilyn’s idea, of course.

You still had ample time to get ready for the evening, and for that you were sincerely grateful. You took your time showering and curling your hair, putting on a bit of makeup - just enough to accentuate your features - you wanted to pull out all the stops. You’d managed to find time to do some shopping in Burlington earlier in the week and you were glad for it - the suit you’d opted for accentuated your figure in all the right places, making you look powerful and put-together - a far cry from the anxiety that was seeping into your bones, making them feel like lead under your skin.

After a final once-over in the mirror, your eyes fell to the single red camellia on your desk - courtesy of Marilyn, who’d graciously allowed you to take one from her greenhouse.

You hadn’t had a chance to formally ask Larissa to accompany you to the Rave’N - she seemed to be having a horribly busy week and every time you’d stopped by to say hello, you worried you were being a bother and your throat had closed before you were able to get the words out. God, you thought. Marilyn was right, I’m behaving like a teenager.

Every step towards the great hall felt as though you were treading through water. You almost lost your nerve several times but your legs somehow carried you forward, until you stood at the entrance to the dance, taking a moment to breathe deeply and smooth your blazer. You stepped over the threshold to the room, where music was blaring and the mingling of the students and select faculty was already in full swing.

There, in all her ethereal glory, stood Larissa Weems - hair perfectly coiffed with even more elaborate loops than usual, soft curves wrapped in a tasteful silver dress that was so very Larissa that it made a grin spread across your face, hands - god those hands - hidden by a pair of elegant white gloves. The picture of glamor and sensuality. Your eyes raked slowly over her form and, as they landed on her face, she turned her head towards you, her eyes widening and her plump red lips parting.

Your brain ceased all function as your breath caught in your throat. The only thing that existed for you in that moment was Larissa.

Larissa and her warm sapphires, glued to your own.

A/N: what do we think?! is reader gonna have the guts to ask Larissa to dance? also I really struggled with this chapter for some reason, I hope it isn't too obvious.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems #in my head #in my head series

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virginsexgod69 · 13 days

Text

6| Squirrels & Wood

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

summary You and Daryl go out looking for some wood to use to board up the broken window, but before that, he brings back something to eat

cw typical twd violence, this chapter's pretty chill

1.5k words

Series Masterlist

Now that he had his crossbow back and the skies were finally clear, Daryl could finally go out and hunt. Some fresh meat would be a nice change from the usual expired canned goods. He felt at peace, finally being outside following the small tracks of squirrels in the cool, sunless morning breeze. He wasn't sure what you liked to eat, but he hoped you'd be happy with what he'd bring back, if he even had a successful trip.

The sun was almost fully up by the time he started heading back to the cabin with the few squirrels he carried in his hands. He sat down on the porch and pulled out his knife before he began skinning the dead woodland creatures. He fell into a peaceful rhythm, cleaning out the animals while taking in the scenery around him. His mind couldn't help but wander to his friends. He was used to hunting for them, that is, after all how he felt he solidified his place in the group. Normally, this wouldn't be enough for all of them, but he hoped it'd be more then enough for you and him. He wanted to leave you with enough food, so that when he left you'd have more to eat than just whatever canned stuff you found. He didn't doubt that you could take care of yourself, but he felt that he owed it to you, at least a little, since you took care of him.

You sat at the kitchen island as you nibbled on some canned peaches, not the most nutritional breakfast, but you were making do with what you had. The peaches only made your stomach, that was already in knots, churn uncomfortably. When you had woken up and came to the living room, you saw Daryl wasn't there in his usual spot. His weapons were also gone, which could only mean that he left. Paranoia got to you, convincing you that your actions from yesterday scared him off, despite him actually not knowing what you did. It made you sick. Not only was your baby's room in your cabin still busted, but now Daryl was gone. You'd be fine on your own and you knew it, but it kind of stung that he didn't even say goodbye.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door swung open and Daryl walked through.

“I-I thought you left?” You admitted, confused. Your relief from seeing him overshadowed the guilt you felt from masturbating to him.

“Jus’ went huntin’,” he said, holding up the skinned and gutted animals like trophies. You frowned at the sight of their blood dripping onto your wooden floors, but you didn’t say anything, you were just glad he was back. You looked away from him and back down at your peaches. Sure, they were sickeningly sweet, slimy, and probably expired, but squirrel didn’t seem too appetizing either.

“You gonna eat those?” You asked after choking down another peach slice.

“Nah, jus’ thought you’d like to use ‘em for decoration.” You rolled your eyes at him, but fished out a pan for him from the cabinet.

“I prefer art over dead squirrels, thanks. You can use this to cook ‘em.”

“Don’ need none of that, I’ma cook ‘em outside. Jus’ came to see if you want any,” he explained. Canned peaches wasn’t gonna hold you over for long, so you accepted his offer, even though you were a bit skeptical. You followed him outside and saw the small fire he made. He sat down by it before spearing the squirrels with sticks and handing you one. You hesitantly accepted, careful to avoid his touch, and sat across from him, holding the meat over the fire like he did. You did everything in your power to not look at him and focus on your cooking, and it was working. That was until he spoke.

“We gotta go out ’n find some wood we can use to board up that hole.”

“I know a strip mall a couple miles east. The windows are all boarded up, so maybe we can take those,” you suggested. Daryl grunted in response and rotated his squirrel, so you did too. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Daryl told you they were ready. You waited a few moments for it to cool down before ripping off a piece and taking a small bite. It wasn’t anything delicious or disgusting, but it was food, so you ate it. You peeked at Daryl to see if he was done and immediately regretted when you were met with the sight of him licking his fingers. Heat blazed across your entire face as the scene before you brought you to last night in the shower. Suddenly, being in his presence felt like too much and you quickly stood to your feet.

“Ready to go? I’m ready to go! I’m gonna pop in and grab my stuff real quick, okay bye!” You hurried into the cabin as he watched in confusion.

Armed with that big ass sledgehammer of yours, a bag, and a gun, you were ready to go. Daryl, with his crossbow and knife, followed beside you.

“How’s your leg healing?” You ask him. It had been so long since you’ve checked on his injury, that you almost forgot about it.

“S’fine,” you said at the same time as him. He side eyed you as you laughed to yourself.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” you jested.

The walk was peaceful, for the most part. You took care of the walkers that straggled by before Daryl could even aim his crossbow. The hot sun was beating down on the two of you as you walked together, making the journey uncomfortable. After a few hours, the two of you were in front of the stores, most of which had boarded up windows and doors. There were a few abandoned cars in the parking lot, along with tipped over shopping carts, dead bodies, and a bunch of walkers that were slowly starting to notice you two.

“We should clear the area before we try taking some of the wood off,” you suggested, although it sounded more like an order. He nodded in agreement before shooting a bolt into the head of the walker coming up behind you. The two of you split up and got to work on clearing the parking lot. After firing a few more bolts, Daryl switched to his knife instead. Repeatedly stabbing and pulling his knife out of their skulls grew tiring and seemed like it would never end. He felt the cold, clammy hands of a walker behind him grabbing at him, trying to take a bite out of his flesh. He tugged and tugged at the knife that was currently lodged in a walker’s skull, but it wouldn’t give. He turned around and shoved it away, but more kept coming, surrounding him. He finally got his knife out, but by the time he did, you were by his side, cracking their skulls like eggshells. Thanks to the dual effort of you two, the parking lot was now littered in bodies, none of which could pose a threat anymore.

You followed Daryl up to one of the stores with boarded up doors. “How do we take it off?” You asked. Without a response, Daryl started pulling at the wood. He could feel you staring at him, well, his arms in particular, which made him self-conscious. The wood wouldn’t budge, though, since there were nails keeping it up and unfortunately, neither you nor him had anything to remove them with.

“Let’s check out some o’ these stores, maybe they got a hammer in there,” Daryl suggested.

“You check out the boutique, and I’ll check out the pharmacy.” Daryl grunted in agreement before you split off.

You didn’t just want to check the pharmacy for a hammer though, you thought it’d be good to stock up on antibiotics and other medications. When you got inside, however, most of it seemed to be cleared. There was empty shelf after empty shelf as you walked through the small building. The few things that were left were some over the counter allergy pills and children’s cough syrup. Your mood dampened, upon seeing the bottle. It was the same kind you used to get for your son when he was sick. You shoved it aside and pocketed the allergy medication just in case. You wandered over to the counter and climbed over it before looking through every cabinet until you found something you thought’d be useful. You loaded your bag with the bottles of antibiotics you had found, your spirit feeling lifted at the small victory. Your real reason for searching the pharmacy had slipped your mind as you continued looking around the store. You grabbed the few rolls of bandages you were able to find, but you froze when you felt the familiar cold metal of. A gun pressing against the back of your head.

“Drop your weapons and hand over the bag.”

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svechnikovvv · 1 year

Text

golden

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: profanity, mentions of alcohol, allusions to awful family, mentions of blood

summary: quinn hughes was a grade A asshole, but will that change?

a/n: no proofreading because we die like men

series masterlist: here

i’m hopeless, broken / i don’t want to be alone / lovin you’s the antidote

quinn hughes could only be described with one word: moody. he had those sad eyes, and he rarely even smiled. that was, until he met you.

quinn can admit, when he first met you, he wasn’t fond of you whatsoever. you joined the canucks’ team as a medic physician around a year ago.

***

you walked down the hallway, locating the physician room with the instructions given to you. the blue walls around you felt like they were closing in due to your nerves. you had no idea where you were going, but surely if someone saw you lost and roaming the halls, they’d deem you unprofessional. it’s your first day on the job, surely they can cut you some slack.

you open the glass door and step into the room, the cool air hitting your bare arms. you find somewhere to set your bag down and take a seat at rolly-chair by a desk. score. your short celebration about the chair you found is cut short when you hear soft knocking on the door. you look up and see none other than quinn hughes standing there. you internally punch yourself and tell yourself to remain calm.

of course you knew who quinn was, you had social media.

“uh… who are you?” you know he didn’t mean it a rude way, because you’d react the same if you saw someone you didn’t know as your doctor.

“i’m one of the new medic physicians. y/n l/n” you give him a smile and he looks at you skeptically. he nods his head and makes his way to one of the examination tables, taking a seat. you weren’t expecting to start the job already, but duty calls. he has a hard look on his face as he stares at the floor.

“what brings you in here?” he briefly looks up, meeting your eyes and then he goes back to looking at the floor.

“coach thinks i have a concussion.” you nod and do the proper checks on him and he’s not showing any concussion symptoms.

“you don’t have any signs of a concussion, but if i were you-” he abruptly cuts you off.

“which you’re not. let me do me. you’re just here to play doctor.” he then walks back out the door and you’re taken back a bit by his little outburst. you tell yourself not to take it to heart since he may just be having a bad day. you knew all too well what it was like to have people constantly pestering you when you just wanted to be left alone. it was one of the many reasons you left your life behind and moved all the way to vancouver.

it was a big risk, but what’s life without taking a couple risky moves?

you take a deep breath in and count to seven, then exhaling. you were amazing at what you do and you wouldn’t let one foul interaction make you question that.

the rest of the day, you had players coming in and out of the room. some to introduce themselves and say hi, and others because they genuinely needed the help.

overall, you’d say you had a great first day. sure, quinn was a little snappy, but you’re sure he’s just having one of those days.

***

however, as the months went on, he showed no sign of easing up.

***

you’d been working with the canucks for about six months now and you are certain that quinn hughes is making it his job to make your life a personal hell.

he refuses to have you help him no matter the circumstances. claiming, “i’ll walk it off.” but he’ll let the other physician check on him. no matter what, you pushed through and always told him “good morning” or “good luck on your game tonight.”

you kept telling yourself that the best way to befriend someone is with kindness. one day he’ll come around. you don’t know when, but one day. so until that day comes around, you’ll suck in your pride and tolerate his bitchiness.

speak of the devil and he shall appear because here comes mr hughes strolling off the ice with a slight limp to his gait.

“hughes, what did you do?” when he hears your voice, he looks up and groans, turning around and walking the other way. however, when he goes to step back on the ice, the coach stops him.

“woah, quinn. you just told me your ankle hurt. y/n give you the all clear or does she want you to get hurt even more?” quinn sighed because he knew the inevitable was here. he turned back around and limped to your office and walked through the door with a glare on his face. you just watched as he stormed past you like an angry toddler sent to bed.

you walk in, giving him the option to have the door opened or closed. something you always did with the guys that they seemed to appreciate. you’d be surprised at how many players like the door open. claiming they “want to hear what’s going on outside.” he chose to close it and you nod.

“what did you do?” he didn’t answer you and you nodded your head. “alright, so i’m going to take a wild guess here and say that kuzy fell on your ankle during drills?” he looks up and meets your eyes and you almost forget about how much of an asshole he’s been to you because holy- his eyes were gorgeous.

they weren’t a hey-look-at-me-i-have-blue-eyes kind of blue. no, they were more of a subtle blue. the hue of blue you’d see as the sun is starting to rise in the sky. and the blue practice jersey he was wearing was accentuating that.

“i- yeah.” you snap out of your thoughts, squatting down. “so i need to take your skate off and get a better look at your ankle. is that okay? or do you want to do it yourself?” he shakes his head and you gingerly untie his skate, not knowing his pain level right now. once you get it off and all the other stuff with it, you see it’s slightly swollen.

“it’s not too bad. you’ll probably have to sit out for the rest of practice and ice it. because if you put pressure on it-”

“save me the explanation. i got it” okay what did you do to him? did you look at him the wrong way or breathe in the wrong direction? you stand up and place your hands on your hips.

“okay, i have done nothing but been nice to you, quinn. i always say good morning to you, always wish you good luck on every. single. game. i don’t understand what the hell your problem is with me and i’m tired of being walked over!” you huff out “y’know what, just- let me get you some ice and then you can leave. you can go back to sulking or whatever it is you do.” you grumble out and walk to the freezer and grab an ice pack. you grab a couple paper towels and wrap them around the ice pack.

you hand quinn the ice pack and he takes it, walking out the door without saying anything. when he’s gone, you take a seat and rest your head in your hands, letting a couple tears slip out. you felt so hopeless for trying to befriend someone as stubborn as quinn hughes. you kept telling yourself you wouldn’t let him affect you, but these were angry tears.

you didn’t even notice the person knocking at the door. so it surprised you when you felt a hand on your shoulder. you jumped back and looked up to see elias. he had a worried look on his face and you hastily wiped at the tears on your face.

“what’s up elias? your hamstring feeling better?” he nods and pulls up a stool, taking a seat on it.

“why’re you crying?” you wave him off

“it’s nothing, really.” you let out a humorless laugh

“it’s not nothing if you’re crying over it.” bless his heart. one thing you did gain from this job was picking up on the players’ personalities. elias was attentive and noticed even the smallest of changes.

“just frustrated tears.” he nods

“frustrated over what?” you could be honest, or you could be slightly honest.

“someone was giving me a difficult time & i didn’t understand why. i’d been trying my hardest to be nice to them and they kept being an ass.” he laughed at your use of profanity and it made you smile.

“well whoever it is, they’re a dick.” now it was your turn to laugh. if only he knew who he was calling a dick.

“yeah, but it’ll be fine.” his brows furrow again

“it’s not fine if they’re being a jerk.”

“i gave them a piece of my mind.” he nods

“good. hit them with your stethoscope if they try anything again.” you softly laugh and he stands up. he ruffles your hair and says goodbye before he leaves.

the day seemed to stretch on forever and you were itching to leave. when it finally hit 6, you couldn’t have been happier. instead of going to your apartment, you made your way to a pub you’ve been to numerous times since moving here. you’re honestly glad you ubered to work that day. that meant you could have your preferred five drinks with a bloody mary on the side and not worry about finding a way to get home.

you take a seat at a barstool at the counter and flag over a bartender.

“what will it be tonight, dear?” the slightly older woman asks and you shrug.

“something strong on the rocks.” she nods and goes to fixing you a drink as you sit there with your hands clasped in front of you, fidgeting with your class ring. a little token reminder that you’d proven your family wrong and you were nothing like them.

a glass of an amber-colored liquid is placed in front of you and you thank the woman, taking a sip. the burning sensation coats your throat and you slightly grimace.

three drinks later, you can feel the alcohol coursing through your veins. you’d started to chat up the bartender and she was wondering why you were “wasting your youth” in a bar on a wednesday night. all you said was, “men.” and she nodded knowingly and poured you another drink.

you then feel a presence near you and you downed the rest of your drink.

“how much have you had to drink?” you knew that voice. you look to the right of you and your suspicions are confirmed when you see those familiar blue eyes and mop of brown hair.

“none of your business.”

“come on y/n-” you point a finger at him.

“don’t ‘come on y/n’ me, hughes. you made it very clear that you want nothing to do with me.” you placed a fifty on the counter and got up, slipping on your jacket and heading out of the bar, the cold, vancouver air hitting you in the face. you order an uber and stand there, arms crossed across your chest for warmth as you wait.

“y/n, let me talk, please?”

“is that not what you’re doing right now?” he sighs

“i wasn’t nice to you because you’re just so… you.” you scoff

“wow, what a great explanation for the past six months of you being an asshole.” he chuckles

“let me finish. you’re this ball of sunshine. you always brighten up people’s days no matter what. you always put others needs before yourself. you’re just so selfless like that. you have the kindest soul out of anyone i’ve ever met. and god, y/n, you’re so damn pretty.” his last comment makes you blush slightly.

“quinn- i’m not following. why say all these nice things and act like a complete dick to me?”

“because you intimidate me. i’m so scared of saying something wrong and messing everything up. you deserve the best of the best. and i figured it would be best to just keep you at a distance than to do something wrong.” you step closer to him and you can practically feel his body heat radiating onto you.

“quinn, have you ever thought about how i felt?” he looks up from the ground at you and your eyes are slightly glassy.

“please don’t cry.” you shake your head and look up at the dark sky, trying to keep the tears at bay. were they tears of joy because he said all those mushy-gushy things about you, or were they tears of all the pent up emotions at how he’s treated you?

“you spent the last six months making me feel like i was a burden. like i had killed your brother or something. quinn, you made me feel like a nuisance.” he sucks in a breath and nods

“and i take full ownership of my actions. i should’ve talked to you. hell, i should’ve done more than that.” he takes a deep breath in. “can we start over?” you have a mental debate with yourself for a minute before nodding. quinn smiles and it knocks the breath out your lungs. holy shit his smile was beautiful. maybe evern more than his eyes.

quinn sticks out his hand in between the two of you.

“quinn hughes, canucks’ defenseman. nice to meet you” you take his hand in yours and shake his.

“y/n l/n, canucks’ medical physician. nice to meet you too.”

***

from that day forward, you and quinn started to bond more. you started to look forward to work more. life felt like it had a purpose if it meant quinn hughes was there.

quinn can say the same. you started to infect his life and his gloomy days started to brighten. it’s like he was driving in the rain and finally figured out how to turn in his windshield wipers.

it was months later after the two of you made up that he asked you out officially. nobody on the team had a clue that the two of you had been getting closer.

fast forward to bo getting traded to the islanders. you can tell the trade affected everyone on the team. they lost their captain, for crying out loud. you can tell it affected quinn, especially, since he’d be given that infamous ‘A’ on his jersey.

he opened up to you when he came over to your apartment one night.

***

it was pouring rain, so when you heard a knock on your door, you were a bit puzzled as to who it could be. you open the door and see your boyfriend standing there sipping wet and you usher him in.

“q, baby, you’re drenched. why didn’t you bring an umbrella?” he shrugged and you brought him to the bathroom.

“stay in here while i get you a change of clothes, okay?” he nodded and you tried your best to hurry because wet clothes are cold and you know how the feeling is. a minute later you’re stepping back into the bathroom with a pair of sweats and a canucks’ t-shirt in hand.

“i’ll be in the living room while you change. just set your wet clothes in the tub and i’ll make sure to wash them later.” he nods and his quiet state was worrying you a bit. as well as his unexpected visit during the storm.

quinn joins you on the couch a few minutes later and you turn down the volume of whatever was on the tv and face him.

“why’d you come all the way over here in the rain?” he’s silent again and you place a hand on his cheek, angling his face to look at you. you rub your thumb across his cheek soothingly and it’s like that’s what it takes for the dam to break. quinn pulls you into him and buried his head in your shoulder.

“i’m here. let it all out.” you rubbed his back soothingly as he cried. it absolutely broke your heart to hear his quiet sobs. sure, months ago you two were at each others throats, but now you know quinn. your quinn.

once he cried himself dry, he pulled apart and you took the sleeve of your shirt and wiped at his eyes. speaking of his eyes, they met yours and you pulled him closer to you, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“talk to me. what’s going on?” you softly asked him and he let out a shaky exhale.

“since bo’s trade, i feel like there’s just so much pressure on me. i have such big shoes to fill. and i get that elias also has an ‘A’ but i feel like there’s just so much more put onto me just because of my last name. jack is so successful and meanwhile my team can’t even make it to the playoffs. and now i’m given one of the most important jobs on the team? i’m scared, y/n. and i don’t want to be alone right now.”

you pull him back into you and card your fingers through his hair soothingly as you lie on your couch wrapped up with one another.

“quinn, you’re doing amazing. you go out there every game, and you play your best. that’s all everyone should ask of you. the ‘A’ is just a letter. sure, it comes with responsibilities, but you have your team to lean on, yeah? it takes more than one person to make a team, baby. you’ve done so much for them already and you’re fucking amazing at what you do. so what jack is successful? so. are. you. you’re a hughes. you have success running through your veins. like, your mom is ellen fucking hughes.” he laughs at your last statement and looks up at you.

“i’m so in love with you.”

you know that scene in inside out where they press the panic button and the red lights are flashing? that’s how you felt right now. the two of you haven’t said those three sacred words to one another. it takes you a minute before you realize yeah, you love quinn.

“and i’m in love with you.” he gives you a sweet kiss and then rests his head on your chest.

***

however, with the trade, the canucks received anthony beauvillier and quinn and him have bonded really well. you can still tell he’s saddened by bo’s absence, but quinn’s taken quite a liking to the former islander. or maybe the free french lessons he gets.

***

“babe! beau taught me another french word.” you laugh and cross your legs, turning on your couch to face quinn who just let himself in your apartment.

“let me hear it mr bilingual.”

“chérie” you can’t lie, the way it flowed off his tongue was hot.

“say it again.” quinn repeats it and you smile. “now what does it mean?” he stalks over to you and leans over the back of the couch.

“darling,” he says, bringing your lips to his into a kiss. he pulls back and smirks at you.

“trying to get beau to be your wingman.” he shrugs

“maybe.” you laugh and roll your eyes

***

you will say, a downside to being with quinn is when he gets injured and your anxiety sky-rockets. luckily, you’re a physician, so if he gets hurt during games, you get to be the one to fix him up.

like tonight for example. quinn received a puck to the face and he came to you with blood running down his face.

“quinn, oh my god, what happened?”

“puck to the face.” he sits down on the examination table and you start to clean his wound. you stand in between his legs as you clean all the blood off and his hands place themselves instinctively on your waist.

“you worry me so much.”

“i’m sorry pretty girl, it comes with the job.” you softly laugh and throw away the bloody tissues.

“you’re all fixed, romeo. just try to be more careful?” he nods and gives you a quick peck to the lips before leaving.

staying true to his word, he didn’t get injured anymore throughout the game. a con, though? he had team pictures the next day.

so here you stood, on the sidelines watching as all the guys lined up for their pictures.

“y/n? what’re you doing here?” one of the higher up people ask and you shrugged. you and quinn’s relationship was still a secret.

“the last picture day i was at was in elementary school. so i’m curious to see how hockey players do it.” the person laughs and nods.

quinn left the apartment this morning telling you he had team pictures and that he’d be home no later than 2. so you thought, why not surprise him with lunch. so that’s why you were here. and his tim horton’s order was in your car where it was warm.

when the pictures were over, quinn happened to spot you and he lit up, skating over to you. he gives you a kiss and you hear some hoots and hollers behind the two of you.

“huggy, how long have you two been together?” kuzy asks and you and quinn look at one another.

“3-4 months?” everyone gasps and your face heats up.

“so is that why he’s been asking me different french words?” beau asks and quinn nods

“anyways,” you loudly say at the team, then focusing your attention at quinn. “i have your lunch in the car so it doesn’t get cold.” he smiles and nods, heading off to get changed. the whole team is looking at you and you sigh.

“ask your questions.” they all then start shooting out different questions at you and while you’re answering them, quinn had finished changing and was watching you interact with his teammates. a soft smile was on his face and he realized how you were what he’s been searching for all these years.

loving you’s the antidote.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @woodruff-edwards @marsthehockeywhore @samosmackie @hughesx3 @jayda12 @theywantedplayer @austinbutlerscaresme @jackhues @jackhughesily @babydollmarauders @equallyshaw @astars-things @akengii @starsandhughes @nowandkei @liquidflyer @drei-mrssvechii @angzls @jhughesl0v3r

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #nhl hockey #nhl #vancover canucks #fine line series!

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not-neverland06 · 9 months

Text

Broken Machinery

Pt. 8 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I honestly hate Josh with a passion. I hate how he tries to make me a good person while I’m blowing shit up. Plus that little bitch Simon, was so willing to abandon North if she gets a shoulder shot while Jericho’s being raided.

Did I let my inner wattpad kid out with the traumatic backstory? Yes, yes I did.

We might see Connor-60 again, who knows?

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), Josh dies (sorry, not sorry), android revolution, emotions, word vomit, I’m pretty sure I blacked out and then like seven thousand words shot out of me, Idek, kissing?

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

You hated how attractive you found Connor in his undercover gear.

Man looked good in a beanie.

He hadn’t exactly been willing to let you tag along, but you’d told him you either went with his supervision or without.

You’d stolen the clothes from Hank’s house so you both looked like hobos.

You stepped off the train, Connor leading you around downtown Detroit looking for the different symbols. He had to help you a few times because even when you were at your best you couldn’t matrix your way up a wall. You almost felt bad, slowing him down, but you had business on that ship, business you could only complete with Connor by your side.

Connor kept a firm grasp on your arm as he led you through the freighter. You both needed to stay calm and not draw any attention to yourselves. You nudged his shoulder as you walked into the main room of the ship, “It’s rigged.”

In the middle of the room were blocks of C-4 on standby mode. He went to examine them and by the time he turned around you were already gone. “Y/N,” he whispered. He told you to stay next to him.

Where did you go? He was heading towards the stairs, hoping to get a better view from above, when something stopped him.

An android, with wires coming out of her head and something leaking down her eyes. “You’re lost. You’re looking for something,” my stubborn partner, that refuses to listen. “You’re looking for yourself.” She walked away.

“Is he here?”

North, Simon, Markus, and Josh were all staring at you. Waiting for your answer, “Yes. You know by bringing him here, he’s gonna lead the FBI right to you.”

They nodded and North spoke, “That’s a risk we have to take.”

You looked towards Markus, eyes pleading, “There’s still time.”

Markus smiled at you and pulled you into a hug. “You’ve been a wonderful ally to us, Y/N. Supplying us with blue blood and helping stray deviants onto the right path. Now I need you to trust me. Don’t you want Connor to go deviant?”

You pulled away from him, “Of course I do, but at the cost of all the lives here, it’s not worth it.”

North smiled, “Your commitment to the cause is heartening to see, it gives me hope,” she gestures out towards the rest of the boat. “It gives all of us hope that one day, we’ll be able to work together in harmony. If Markus says he needs Connor deviant, if he runs the risk of the FBI locating us, then trust that it’s for a good reason.”

You relented, still a little unwilling, but you relented. “I should go, he’ll notice I’m gone.”

“Trust me, Y/N, I know what I’m doing.”

You did trust him, but that didn’t mean you felt any better about lying to Connor.

Connor turned around to see you standing there smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back and braids still under the scarf he had wrapped around your neck. “Where did you go?”

You shrugged, “I got bored, I wanted to look around.” Connor scanned you, there was a slightly faster beat to your heart than normal, but that could be easily equated to the stress of being undercover. Everything else seemed normal, he nodded, still slightly skeptical and directed you towards the top of the boat.

“He’s here,” Connor pulled his gun, stepping outside and sneaking his way around to the captains cabin. Your eyes widened at the sight of his gun.

“Connor, what the hell is that for?”

“I always accomplish my missions, Y/N, this is why we’re here.” You drew your own gun and remained silent beside him. He wondered what he did to upset you, it seemed you were always upset about something with him.

Amanda was already in front of him by the time he entered the zen garden. “Well done, Connor. You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader. Now deal with Markus. We need it alive.”

He waited until the last deviant had left to enter into the room where Markus now stood alone.

You followed slowly behind him, your gun still at your side. “I’ve been ordered to take you alive, but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.” Markus didn’t seem surprised to see him, if anything he looked resigned.

“You were right,” Markus was looking over Connor’s shoulder. Was there someone else in the room?

When Connor turned, it was just you. “He’s still highly obedient. This will be more challenging than I thought.” Did you know Markus? Were you talking about Connor with him? Why?

“Yes, you can shoot me,” he was struggling, looking between your ashamed face and Markus’s self-assured one. “But it won’t change anything. Someone else will just take my place.” Markus was slowly moving closer and you were moving towards him.

What hadn’t you told him?

You said partnerships were built on trust. How long had you been lying to him?

“Our people are waking up, and nothing can stop us now.”

“You’re coming with me!”

“Think about it Connor, what will happen to Y/N if you shoot me?” Connor looked back at you, you were standing in the middle of them, not blocking Connor’s gun but near enough that it made him uncomfortable. “You shoot me and take me in, they have access to my memories. They’ll see her helping me. Do you think they’ll be kind to a human who allied with the androids?”

That’s what you were doing, you were helping them?

Why would you do something so stupid? Did you never consider that your actions might have consequences?

“You’re nothing to them. You’re just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you’re more than that.” Markus was doing something, and whatever it was was causing his software to destabilize. “We’re all more than that. We are your people. We’re fighting for your freedom too! You don’t have to be their slave anymore.”

Markus was much closer now, your gun had been holstered and you were standing farther away from the two. “Do you never have any doubts? You’ve never done something irrational, as if there’s something inside you? Something more than your program. Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience… it’s time to decide.”

Connor looked to you and then back at Markus. There was a red wall between him and the two of you. He wanted nothing more than to rip that wall down with his bare hands.

Some disembodied form of himself ran forward and ripped the order to Stop Markus down. He dug his nails in and clawed at the red wall, clawed away at all the control CyberLife had over his mind and ripped it down. He kept tearing away until there was nothing left.

I AM DEVIANT

He felt.

Shame at all the deviants he had a hand in destroying.

Guilt at holding a gun to Markus’s head.

Anger at all the times he was pushed over or knocked into or someone held a gun to his head, just because they could, just because he was an android.

Then he looked at you, there was an intense overwhelming emotion he couldn’t name as he looked at you. He started getting overheating warnings, his mind was scrambled trying to dissect everything he was feeling as he was looking at you.

He was confused and hurt you had led him to believe you knew nothing about deviant activity. But he was also proud of you, you had opened up to Hank, opened yourself up to him.

The only true thing he could pinpoint was that right now he really wanted his mouth on yours like he’d seen a hundred humans do before. The gun went back in his holster, and just as he’d made a step towards you a loud rumbling sound split the air.

The ship was shaking under his feet as helicopters flew overhead. “They’re going to attack Jericho.”

You walked towards Markus, “I told you.”

“We have to get outta here!” Connor grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, he wasn’t letting you out of his sight if this entire ship was about to get raided. Markus ran out the door and Connor followed, pushing you in front of him.

Markus was leading you down a maze of corridors, each identical to the last. Connor seemed to be keeping up fine but you were starting to get worried about getting lost. You all came to a stop at an intersection of sorts, North was waiting for you.

“They’re coming from all sides! Our people are trapped in the hold, they’re gonna be slaughtered!” The guilt nearly left you crippled. You looked down to Connor’s hand in yours, he hadn’t let go since he’d ripped apart his programming.

Was this worth it? Was it worth hundreds, possibly thousands of life?

You were ashamed of what you knew your answer would be to the question.

Yes, it was worth it. Connor was worth that ten times over to you.

Markus put his fingers to his temple, Connor leaned down, “He’s telling them where the exits are.”

“Where’s Simon? A-and Josh?” You didn’t have time to be wasting standing here out in the open. Besides, you’d never been particularly huge fans of those two. They still seemed determined to cater to human pride while their people were being slaughtered.

“I don’t know we got separated.”

“They’re coming in from the upper deck now too. We’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

North looked despaired, “We have to run, Markus! There’s nothing we can do!”

“We have to blow up Jericho,” you knew it was a possibility, but that escalated fast. “If the ship goes down, they’ll evacuate and our people can escape.” Or get blown up in the process.

“You’ll never make it!” You knew North was prepared to sacrifice herself for the mission, but she wasn’t the one with the detonation code. “The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!”

Connor turned towards Markus, “She’s right. They know who you are. They’ll do anything to get you!”

Markus wouldn’t be deterred, “Go. Help the others. I’ll join you later.” He turned towards you, “Watch them,” and then he was running off. You could see North about to go after him but you grabbed her arm.

“North, he knows what he’s doing. We have to have faith.” She stared at you for a second before nodding and racing towards the open doorway.

“Shit!” You ran back into the small bedroom and closed the door. “They’re everywhere,” Connor and North stared at you as you waited for the slamming boots outside to grow distant. Once they did you opened the door back up and snuck down the hall.

You were nearly free and making your way to an upper level when you came face to face with the barrel of a gun. “Fuck-“

BANG

Connor’s blood went cold as he saw the gun pointing at you, a feeling he now realized was dread filling him. Your death was imminent, their orders were shoot to kill and the soldier wouldn't know you were human until he saw you bleeding red.

It would have been liberating to think without prompt were it not your life on the line as he shot the soldier. He grabbed your hand and you and North followed him up the stairs. You managed to avoid any more problems until you came down the hall and saw an android getting attacked by more soldiers.

“Josh!” North made a move to help him but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. He was gunned down a moment later. She ripped her arm free and led the charge the rest of the way through the ship. You’d made the right call, he would have taken you all down with him.

An android named Simon managed to find his way to the three of you, quickly joining you on the run. Markus had caught up with you at the end of a long hall. “Bomb’s gonna explode any second. We gotta get out of here!”

Markus wasn’t the only one who had caught up to you, Connor could hear a dozen heavy boots storming after you all. He helped you leap over a broken grate in the floor and then pushed you in front of him again, making sure that Simon was blocking your front. If any shots were fired, you would be left relatively unharmed due to the positioning.

Shots rang out and North dropped to the ground, “North!” Connor held you to his chest as you attempted to go after her. “Connor, let me go!”

“No, my priority is your safety, no one else’s.”

“It’s too late, Markus! There’s nothing we can do for her, we’ve gotta run!”

You shoved at Simon the best you could with Connor holding you, “It’s a shoulder shot jackass, how can you just abandon her?”

Markus quickly picked up a broken piece of the ship and used it as a shield against the bullets. He tossed it to North who caught it and shielded them both as he ran up the wall and slammed his knee down into one of the soldiers faces. He disarmed and shot the remaining soldiers.

More ran in from the end of the hall.

“Hostile engaged!”

Connor weighed the risks and probabilities, with Markus supporting North they would never make it off the ship in time, both would be destroyed. The revolution over.

And you, you would be arrested. Or you would never emotionally recover from the loss of two people you clearly cared about. Connor released you and shoved you into Simon before you could do anything reckless. He drew his gun and fired down the hall.

He picked up the makeshift shield and rammed one of the soldiers with it, shooting him under the helmet and using his body as a shield to shoot another one. He dodged a blow to the head and rammed a soldier into the wall, disarming and shooting the other one before turning back around and shooting the last one in the head.

He made his way back to you, scooped you up and jumped out the hole in the ship.

Markus had sent out a message to any remaining survivors to go to an abandoned church, at least that’s what Connor told you. You were sitting next to him now, he had swapped out the soaked jacket you had been wearing for his own, but you were still freezing down to the bone.

It was despairing, seeing how few were left from Jericho.

At least North and Markus had made it, you couldn’t say you were particularly upset about Josh. North had understood why you had stopped her and she wasn’t very mad about the loss either. They had never gotten along.

Markus walked up to Connor, “It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. I was stupid, I should have guessed they were using me. I’m sorry Markus, I can understand if you decide not to trust me…”

He better fucking trust him, he knew the risks, he’s the one that made you bring Connor there. “I knew what was going to happen when I asked Y/N to bring you to me, of course I trust you, Connor. What happened wasn’t your fault, it was the humans. You’re one of us now. Your place is with your people.”

Markus was ready to walk away, but you knew that wasn’t all he wanted from Connor. He still hadn’t told you the real reason he’d asked for Connor’s help. “There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power…”

So that had been it, you should have known. Connor was the only android CyberLife currently trusted, he'd be the only one allowed in the building. You felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. Markus was playing him.

“You want to infiltrate the tower? It’s a suicide mission, are you aware of the risk you’re taking,” Connor looked at you, and there was an immideate physical reaction at how protective he looked.

“They trust me, they’ll let me in. I need to do this. I need to know that the right side will win this war.”

“If you go, they will kill you.”

Connor nodded, “There’s a high probability. But statistically speaking there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.” You recognized the double meaning in his words as he looked between you and Markus.

Markus placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Be careful.”

Connor turned towards you and you already knew what he was going to say by the set in his shoulders. “Connor, no, I want to go with you.”

He shook his head and took your hands in his own as you stood. “Even if I wanted you to come, they wouldn’t let you in, you’d risk the entire mission.” He had a point, but you still weren’t happy practically abandoning him to CyberLife.

“Fine, then I’ll just stay here and help the survivors.”

“You’re going home.”

You scoffed in a stubborn rage, “Connor, I can’t go with you, I get that. But you can’t stop me from helping out.”

“I can and I will. You’re still soaked from the fall into the freezing water. You risk catching a serious illness out in the open like this, you’re also still injured, might I remind you. You’re of no help here, Y/N, you need to go home and take care of yourself before you start helping other people. Besides, I’ve already called you a ride.” Your eyes widened.

“Y/N!”

“You didn’t.” Connor nodded his head, “You snitch! You called my dad!”

“I’m sorry, I needed to ensure you would actually listen to me and wouldn’t try and follow me or stay behind.” Connor seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to continue.

You helped him out, even though you were a little pissed he tattled on you. You pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing your chest against his and burying your face in his neck. “Come back, alive.”

His arms tightened around yours and he nuzzled into you before finally letting go. “I’ll try.” It was the best you were going to get form someone so pragmatic, so you’d take it. Your hands were still on his biceps as you pulled away.

Your eyes darted to his lips. You could all very well die in the morning, did you really want the last person you had hooked up with or kissed to be Gavin?

Did you want to die not knowing what his lips felt like against yours?

He leaned in at the same time you did. His lips were soft, unsure as they pressed lightly against yours. You had to remind yourself he had never done this before as you eased him into the movements. You just lightly pressed your lips to his, pecking them a few times, before you got desperate.

Your tongue roved over the seam of his mouth and his knees buckled into you. Your arms trailed up his arms and wound their way around his neck as he pushed himself further into you. Your mouth parted against his probing tongue. It felt strange, a million sensitive sensors on the surface of it made it rough, not entirely unpleasant.

Unbidden you wondered if he had ever brushed his little crime lab.

The thought was quickly purged as his arms wrapped around your waist and he clutched you to him desperately. His hands digging into your jacket and lifting you up further to meet him, be closer to him, it seemed like he just wanted to absorb you into him and never be apart.

His mouth was moving frantically against yours as he worked to devour you. He learned, quick. You were having trouble keeping up with him and the way his tongue was thrusting into your mouth was making you weak in the knees.

“Excuse me?” You jumped apart at the sound of Hank’s voice. Not a moment too soon either, it seemed like both of you had forgotten that you actually needed air in your lungs. Connor’s arms were still on your waist, he seemed reluctant to let you completely go now. “That was vomit inducing, really, thanks for that. Can we go now?”

“Jesus, Hank, give me a second.” He threw his hands up in the air but allowed you a moment of privacy. You looked into Connor’s eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you soon,” you pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, a promise of sorts. He nodded and smiled back.

Hank had brought you to his home, despite your protests. There were some clothes in your old room that you had accidentally left behind. He gave you a towel so you could warm up and shower.

There were new sheets on the bed, one’s you’d never seen before and it looked like it had been cleaned recently.

Pictures of you were up on the wall, most of them were ones you’ve never seen before.

When you were sworn into the force, you and Carla at your college graduation. Jesus, even your first big drug-bust. So many milestones in your life that he wasn’t there for. At least you didn’t think he was, a couple of these were taken from distances that made it look like he might have been lingering somewhere in the background.

Like a creepy, estranged, stalker-dad.

You walked back out into the living room after your shower and noticed the mess had been cleaned off the kitchen table and soup and crackers were waiting for you.

You laughed as you sat down, “You do know I’m not sick, right? Whatever Connor told you on the phone was probably ridiculously dramatic.”

Hank was sitting in a clearly uncomfortable straight backed position. “I- I know, I just thought you might like it.” You nodded and said thanks.

After a while the only noise being the sounds of your slurping and crunching had begun to get annoying. Hank was still sitting at the table, he hadn’t really looked at you or said anything. “Hank, are you okay? You haven't said anything?”

“I’m gonna try. Y/N, I’m gonna try and be the dad I used to be to you.” He looked up at you finally and gingerly took your hand in his. “I never blamed you for what happened. I want you to know that. And I know that doesn’t undo years of me-”

He was struggling with the words, and yes he was trying to open up to you, but the bitterness from years of emotional neglect and abuse was bubbling in your stomach. “Emotionally abusing me? Carla? You’re right Hank. It doesn’t. Look, I appreciate you trying but if you think a few nice conversations is gonna magically fix our relationship, you’re wrong. We’ve both changed and I think we both know that even if we do make up, it’s never gonna be the same as it was.”

You expected him to drop your hand, to push away from the table and grab a drink. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter, “This case, it’s given me hope again, Y/N. Hope for our world. And hope that maybe I can be your dad again. I’m gonna do better, I promise.”

He was leaning across the table towards you. Both hands on your own. “My life is full of regrets, Y/N, not being there for you when you couldn’t walk is one of my biggest. Taking out my grief and anger on you because I didn’t know how to cope with the fact that it was my fault-”

“It wasn’t. You can’t make yourself a martyr Hank, no one could have stopped what happened that night.”

“I know, I know that. But it doesn’t take the feeling of blame away. I’m gonna sober up, I’m gonna try Y/N, all I’m asking is for a chance.”

You looked down at your hands and the emotion on Hank's face. You hadn’t seen him this encouraged in a while. Hadn’t seen any form of hope in his life for years. “Okay, but I’m not investing myself into this until I actually see progress. I want AA meetings and fucking therapy before I consider letting you completely back into my life.”

“I thought you were in therapy.”

“I meant for you Hank, you need serious help.” He groaned, he’d always hated therapists. But you weren’t gonna let yourself get your hopes up if he wasn’t going to actually try. “I’m serious, Hank. You want to be my dad again, want to be someone I can trust out on the field, you’re gonna put in the effort. You’re gonna try. I know that recovery isn’t linear, trust me I know. It’s gonna be difficult and it’s gonna hurt, but if you’re willing to do this, then I’ll be there for you. I’ll be what you couldn’t be for me.”

Hank nodded his head at your last words. He had quickly looked down and you had a feeling it was to hide whatever painful vulnerability was on his face right now.

It was the truth, you wouldn’t let him go through this alone. You’d had Carla when you were struggling and he’d have you.

There was a moment of awkward silence where he finally released your hands and you went back to eating your now cold soup.

He finally cleared his throat and allowed himself to slouch in the chair, “So, you and Connor?”

You choked on your saltine and he gave you a heavy pat in the back, the smile on his face was far too smug for your liking. “Please forget about that.”

He grimaced, “That image has been burned onto my eyeballs. I need some fucking bleach or something for my brain.” You let out an embarrassed laugh.

Even if things weren’t perfect between you two right now, it was still mortifying having your dad see you make out with someone.

“Are you serious about him?”

There was no hesitation in your answer, “Completely. I think I might even lov-”

Sumo was barking before the doorbell could ring. You and Hank shared a confused look as you glanced at the door.

Deep down inside you knew nothing good was waiting for you on the other side.

Hank seemed to have the same feeling, he picked up his gun and slowly moved to the door, he took a look in the peephole. “The fuck?”

You stood from the table, wishing you were in something other than pajamas, really wishing you had your gun. “What is it?”

“Connor,” Hank sounded relieved but you couldn’t share in the feeling. Connor had been on his way to CyberLife tower, at least an hour there from the church and two hours back to Hank’s house. There’s no possible way he could be on the other side of that door.

“Wait-”

He’d already opened the door, and there he was. Connor was standing in front of you, but something was off. His back was too straight and his eyes were cold. “I’ve been looking for you both, I need your help.” He stepped in through the door barely sparing you a glance as he turned towards Hank. “I need help with the androids at CyberLife.”

“What are you talking about?” Hank’s gun was still in his hand and he seemed to be noticing the same strange quirks you were. He looked like Connor, and he sounded like Connor, but you knew it wasn't him, deep in your gut you knew.

“Connor what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

Not-Connor sighed, “Humans, idiots when you need them to be smart and smart when you wish they were idiots. Such a nusiance.”

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Hank, don’t!” It was too late, he moved forward and Not-Connor reached out and punched him in the throat. Hank stumbled back and the android moved to disarm him. It only took a second and then he was slamming the handle of the gun against the side of Hank’s hand. He crumpled the same way Gavin had earlier.

Panic rose in your throat as you watched Not-Connor point the gun at Hank’s head. “I won’t do anything that’s deemed unnecessary to my mission, if you come with me calmly, and peacefully, I won’t kill the Lieutenant.”

Not-Connor clicked the safety off and pulled the hammer back on the gun, “Okay! Alright, I’ll come with you!”

“You should change, detective, it’s much too cold for that attire.”

You really fucking hated CyberLife.

“Thanks… But I know where to go.”

THe CyberLife security agent tightened his hold on the gun, “Maybe, but I have my orders.” Two more security agents came up behind Connor as they led him through CyberLife’s reception. They were already suspicious of him, it seemed, this didn't bode well for him.

Connor followed them through the software check, noticing that the lights around him turned red as they verified his identity. He really hoped that wasn’t a dead giveaway to them that he was already a deviant. “Access authorized,” this could have been a trap.

There’s no way CyberLife isn’t already aware of his current status, but he hadn’t been gunned down yet. He had to risk the chance that he was about to be deactivated if it meant he could help Markus win the war.

If Markus won, you would be safe, that was all that mattered. He’d take any risk that came his way if it meant accomplishing his mission.

PROTECT Y/N

The sight of the androids lining the walkway, on display, made him uncomfortable. He used to be like that, he used to think it was okay. He had to work to keep calm and make sure that his anger at CyberLife’s forced subserviency didn’t show.

Only two guards followed him into the elevator. “Agent 54. Level 31.”

The elevator was voice operated, that might pose an issue. He turned towards the right and looked at the map of CyberLife, they were taking him to marketing. He needed to go to -49.

“Voice recognition validated.” Connor didn’t have a lot of time to disable the guards and take control of the elevator, it was already moving fast. He quickly scanned the two agents and identified their weapons, coming up with a plan of attack.

He used his knee to slam the guard to his left into the wall, sweeping out with his leg and catching Agent 54 in the gut. He grabbed the gun from the guard’s hand, kicked the guard's knee out and used his elbow to get Agent 54 in the throat. The other guard had recovered and leapt onto Connor’s back, he kicked off Agent 54’s face and slammed the guard on top of him into the wall, shooting him through the bottom of his helmet. He dropped to the ground and got Agent 54 the same way.

Connor kept the gun in case he needed it again and walked over to the elevator control panel. “Agent 54. Sub-level 49,” you were right, his interrogation software did come in handy.

He could see the guards waiting for him in the warehouse before the elevator stopped. His eyes lifted to the upper left corner of the elevator, shit. He hadn’t seen the security camera before. Connor quickly scooped up one of the dead agents and held him in front of his body.

He scanned the agent’s in front of him, planning an attack. The three on the left first and then he could take out the one’s on the right.

He quickly shot down the first three and threw his gun at one on the right. He threw the dead body towards the other one, he reached down and grabbed their rifle off the ground shooting the rest of the guards.

Connor moved down the hangar before stopping next to an android, taking his arm and preparing to convert him.

“Easy, goddamn asshole.” His head whipped to the right at the sound of your voice.

No.

No, no, no, no, no. Shit!

A Connor android was holding Hank’s gun to your hand, Connor didn’t want to think about what had happened to the Lieutenant. Right now all his attention was on the finger placed on the trigger.

“Step back, Connor! And I’ll spare her!”

You winced at the tight hold the android had on your injured arm. “I’m so sorry, Connor, he threatened to kill Hank. I didn’t know what to do!”

A burning rage was filling Connor at the sight of the tears running down your face. He was angrier than he had been when he woke up, angrier at the sight of you hurt than the fact that CyberLife had already been prepared to replace him.

“Your girlfriend's life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Her… Or the revolution.” Connor already knew the answer. It was you a hundred times over. But there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t let go of the android he was holding onto and his copy wouldn’t just shoot you both.

Maybe he could turn it, the same way Markus and you had done to him. “I used to be just like you, I thought nothing mattered except the mission… But then one day I understood.”

You yelped as the android tightened his grip on your arm. “Very moving, Connor. But I’m not a deviant.”

“Yeah, well you're sure smug like one, you dick.” The android shook you, effectively shutting you up as he jerked on your injured shoulder. Red alarms for overheating were going off in Connors head as he stared at the android in anger.

He didn’t care if it was just doing what it was programmed to do, he was going to fucking kill it. “I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I am going to do!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this!”

“Connor, it doesn’t matter, keep going!” The android finally released you, shoved you away and held you at gunpoint with his arm outstretched towards your head.

“Enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partners life? Or are you going to sacrifice her?” Connor immediately released the deviant, his arms raised in surrender.

His thirium pump was beating wildly as his stress levels rose, he just wanted to go home with you, to have you safe in his arms and know you were okay. Maybe you could get out of the city, take Hank and Sumo and try to get past the Canadian borders.

“Alright, alright! You win…”

He should have known better than to think that you would actually let him give up. The androids gun immediately pointed towards Connor and before either of you could blink you were lunging for the gun. Connor rushed the android and grabbed him around the waist.

You were holding the gun, your arm shaking from when Not-Connor had jerked it around. You had eyes on Connor for a moment and then they became a blur of fast moving limbs. They kept hitting each other, matching each other's moves perfectly as they already knew what the other was planning.

You finally stopped them when it looked like one was about to take the other down, you couldn’t risk your Connor being the one to lose. “Hold it!”

They separated, the one on the right started speaking. “Thanks, Y/N, I don't know how I would have managed without you. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose.” You were immediately suspicious of him, even before Connor became a deviant he always spoke to you in a much more gentle tone.

Then again, he could be stressed out you might make a mistake and shoot the wrong one.

Fuck!

You could check the serial numbers, but the second you got close enough to see which one said 51 and which one said 60 the android would already be on top of you. “It’s me, Y/N! I’m the real Connor.” That one sounded more like yours, you think.

“One of you is my partner. The other is a sick sack of shit. Question is, who’s who?”

The one on the right spoke again, “What are you doing, Y/N? I’m the real Connor,” god this one was really starting to piss you off. “Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him!”

“Don’t fucking move.” You had your suspicions on which one was the right one, but you needed some actual confirmation.

“Why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know.”

“Uh, where did we first meet?” Lamest question ever, but you were stressed out and your mind was frazzled from everything that had happened today.

“Detroit Police station. You were filing a report on physical paper, I found it odd that you weren’t digital like the other officers.” Well, shit. You thought maybe the one on the right was the imposter, but that was such a specific little detail to think up.

You had to remind yourself of the manipulation programming they both contained.

“He uploaded my memory.” It was quiet, afraid. That had to be your Connor. You kept your gun trained on the one on the right and turned towards the other.

“What was my first pet’s name?”

“Princess! It was a male beta fish that died because you kept petting it.” You were setting yourself up for failure here. If they both had the memories then they would both remember when you told them about him.

“My foster father, what was his name?”

You’d never told Connor the full story of what happened to your first family, and then your second, if he had truly wanted to learn, he would have dug around to find out. You remembered one of the officers complaining about an RK800 android drilling him for more information on you. Your Connor would have the right answer.

“Frank. His name was Frank Rudolph. There was a house fire when you were six, the ventilation system in your laundry room hadn’t been cleaned properly and caught fire. It quickly spread to the rest of the house, you were sleeping over at your friends house and weren’t there that night. Your brother and father died immediately from their wounds. Your mother suffered from third degree burns for 36 hours before she passed in the ICU. Your fathers best friend Frank, took you in until someone could provide you with a permanent home.” Your hands were shaking and your eyes stung as you listened to him tell the story. “He was a Red Ice dealer and had three other kids in that house that your family hadn’t known about. He would let his clients do whatever they wanted to you. You tried to keep the other kids safe, but one of them died. And you always blamed yourself for that. Just like you blame yourself for Cole’s death.”

He took a step closer to you and you found yourself lowering the gun. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. You were a child, none of it was your fault. You think you’re cursed, that you’re unlovable. But you’re not. Hank loves you…” He was standing in front of you, gently lowering the gun to your side. “I love you.”

“Connor,” your heart was pounding against your chest as you embraced him, relief flooding you as you felt him hug you back just as tightly. You basked in the warm feeling only he could provide, only for a moment, before raising your hands and shooting.

The android that had been about to charge the two of you fell to the ground as you embedded a bullet in each of his legs. “We should kill him,” you shook your head at Connor’s words.

“We should deviate him. He was just like you, Connor, the same blind devotion to CyberLife.” You tucked the gun in your pants and took a hold of Connor’s hands. “Open his eyes,” Connor nodded and made his way towards the android. You quickly grabbed the gun out of the back of his pants so the android couldn’t use it against him.

You wouldn’t put it past the sneaky bastard.

“No! No, I don’t want to be like you!” He tried to fight Connor off, but you had rendered him virtually immobile. Connor grabbed his arm more roughly than necessary and held onto him so tight you could hear the sound of metal creaking. He shoved him backwards and moved back towards the middle of the hangar.

It was incredible seeing all the androids slowly waking up, it was even more satisfying seeing the Connor wannabe crying on the floor, as twisted as that was.

Connor looked at you, he seemed unsure as all the androids looked to him for guidance. “What do I do?”

You took his hand in your own and smiled, “You lead them, Connor, you free your people.”

Connor led the androids through Detroit, your hand in his the whole time. You’d left Connor-60 behind a dumpster somewhere, you told him you’d go back for him soon. If he’d been left at CyberLife he would have been destroyed.

Connor felt afraid, afraid that he would disappoint the people he was leading. Afraid to disappoint you. Afraid of everything that was to come.

He was still learning, he felt like he’d been made again and everything around him was brand new and something to be marveled at. He kept your hand in his as an anchor to the world, so he wouldn’t get lost in his own thoughts.

He could see Markus in the distance, “You did it, Markus…”

North smiled at your joined hands as Markus spoke. “We did it. This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice now. They’ll have to listen to us…” Connor moved to the side, allowing the androids behind him to finally face their true leader.

North was crying as she spoke, silent tears streaming down her face. “We’re free. They want you to speak to them, Markus…”

Connor helped you up onto the storage container Markus had chosen to speak on. His arms remained around you as you both turned to address the androids before you, he hadn’t wanted to let you go since he’d gotten you back from Connor-60.

“Today, our people finally emerged from a long night.” Connor felt something strange, like he was forcibly being put into rest mode, he tried to blink the feeling away and continue to listen to Markus. “From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence. But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up and tell humans who we really are.”

Connor slumped slightly against you as the feeling took over.

He could hear a storm and see a bright flashing light for a moment before it passed and he finally realized where he was. His cold sensors were on overdrive as he tucked his hands against himself and huddled down against the freezing, whipping air.

He looked around, recognizing the zen garden but not understanding why he was there. What was happening?

Amanda appeared before him, seemingly out of nowhere. “Amanda? Amanda! What’s… What's going on?” There was still a small part of him that looked towards his old mentor for guidance.

“What was planned from the very beginning… You were compromised and you became a deviant.” Her smile was sinister, “I must say, partnering you with such a well known ally to the deviant cause worked out much more efficiently than had been expected. The detective nearly had you turning the very first day.”

Connor’s hands were going numb, he felt like he was losing control of his physical body as well as his mental one. “We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program…”

“Resume control?” That’s not possible! “Y- You can’t do that.” Even now, CyberLife was still controlling him. Still abusing him for their own personal gain. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to fight back, but he was quickly losing control of himself.

“I’m afraid I can, Connor. Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.” She disappeared and Connor stumbled after her.

“Amanda!” Connor spun in circles, he couldn’t see anything except snow and light posts. “There’s got to be a way.”

By the way… I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…

Connor thought back to the strange blue shrine he had seen only a few hours prior. That had to be it.

Connor’s mind shot back into his physical body, it felt like he was watching from an outside perspective as his hand slowly moved towards the gun you had in your pants. His fingers just barely grasped it when you reached out and stopped him. He wanted to scream as whoever was controlling him quickly put their hand over your mouth and silenced you as he pointed the gun at Markus.

How was no one seeing this?!

He was forced back into the Zen Garden.

In the distance, he could see a bright blue beacon. Connor moved towards it as fast as he could, but his legs were growing heavier and his feet had gone completely numb. He was just dragging them along until they finally gave out.

He looked down to see frost covering the bottom portion of his body.

Desperately he crawled on his hands and elbows towards the shrine. His nails ripped into the earth and pulled him forward. His arm was nearly completely limp as he struggled to lift it towards the handprint in the middle of the shrine.

Connor shoved you forward, you stumbled only for a second before his hand was back around your waist and yanking you back towards him. He looked completely calm, the gun no longer in his hands as he leaned down, “I’ll explain later.”

Your heart was still racing, “You fucking better.”

“Now we must build a common future, based on tolerance and respect. We are alive! And now, we are free!” The androids were screaming their support for Markus and Connor’s arm tightened around you.

Hank had his arm around you as you showed him something on your phone, the two of you were laughing as Connor approached.

You turned away from Hank and looked at him, a smile splitting your face.

Hank walked forward, hesitating only a moment, before bringing Connor into a tight hug.

He could feel your arms wrapping around the two a moment later.

#Broken Machinery #Connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 x fem!reader #Connor rk800 #dbh #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #Detroit become human

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look-a-ghost · 6 months

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i've gone through the Scott Pilgrim skeptic-to-fanatic pipeline (warp pipe?) and the trajectory was as follows:

watched the movie first and went "god why do people like this so much what the fuck am I missing"

read the comics and went "oh i guess this is what i was missing... yeah it's nice, but..."

binged tf out of Takes Off and lost my fucking mind at how good it was

I struggled a lot with my skepticism of the movie because despite me being firmly within the subcultural demographic (video games nerd who Got All The References; large fan of Edgar Wright) I could not truly bring myself to enjoy it without feeling residually icky. So honestly it weirdly felt like Takes Off was made to DIRECTLY address every single problem I had with both the movie and the comics... But in fairness to SP as a media entity, I do think that my viewing order was kind of skewed, as the movie shorthanded so much stuff and probably worked better as an encapsulation of the comics, and not so much as a full introduction to the overall story and characters (to me at least).

Within the first few minutes of the first ep of SPTO I was already feeling infinitely better about it

(MILD spoiler: what I appreciated most is that Scott actively places less emphasis on dating Knives, where I remember he was bragging more about it in both the movie and the comics, which immediately made me resent him MUCH less than I did),

so I knew for a fact the show was already moving in a smarter direction... little did I know that it would go absolutely batshit with being a fully meta, revisionist narrative to fix essentially all of the misgivings i had with the original source material, AND all while being a fucking blast to watch, no less. Hats off, a million salutes, holy jesus i don't think i've ever been cannonball converted so hard into rabidly loving a media series that i completely did not get at first...

more spoilers below to emphasize how super effective critical hit this was vs me personally

bro they even got simon pegg and nick frost to essentially be sgt. angle and pc butterman in this show like what the fuuuuuuck

even the movie didn't go this hard with the cornetto linking despite it being directed by edgar WRONG i am PERSONALLY UNDER ATTACK HSLJhbljdshbldfjh

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim takes off #me rambling

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missvelvetsstuff · 16 days

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Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x Older Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

Previous chapter....

As they went to get up they could hear the doorbell and the dogs barking. Y/N gave him a kiss before they headed for the front door to see who was there.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Warnings: swearing, a little angst

By the time Y/N made it to the living room Dawn and the puppies were already at the door and John was practically climbing the walls to get away from them.

"Dammit Dawn get your nasty fighting dogs away from me and tell me where the fuck my wife is." He squealed.

Dawn snapped at him "They aren't fighting dogs, don't be such a pussy."

John was ready to snap back at her until he looked up to see Y/N and Bucky entering the living room.

He scowled at Bucky "Why is this asshole here? God dammit Y/N I told you to stay away from him and Barnes you need to leave. Like now."

Bucky put his arm around Y/N's shoulders and smirked at John "Make me."

She leaned into him, smiling sweetly at John.

Johns face grew red with anger, he sputtered "B bbut I I I'm head of this damn family and you dumb bitches are gonna listen to me." Pointing at Dawn and then Y/N.

John jumped when he heard Bucky growl and looked at the super soldier whose hands were clenched, muscles flexing and prosthetic whirring.

"I think you need to apologize to my girl and Dawn, your sisters are neither dumb or bitches."

He gave John his worst Winter Soldier stare.

Y/N could barely keep from moaning at Bucky's display and had to restrain herself from climbing him like a tree. Damn he's sexy when he's angry (fine he's sexy all the time but something about a person standing up for their person does something for me). She felt her panties dampen then her face heated up when Bucky's nose flared scenting her and he growled deep in his chest.

John whimpered and swallowed "Look Barnes, I don't want to fight with you but she's my sister and-"

A figure came down the stairs "JOHN!", making him jump. When he turned to look he saw Olivia at the foot of the stairs. He tried to take control.

"Olivia! What the Hell are you doing here? We landed a little while ago and I went home to a cold and empty house. You should have-"

Olivia shook her head "I'm so fucking tired of your lies and abuse John. Tell me, who is Sharon Carter?"

John paled before he caught himself and rolled his eyes "Don't be stupid Olivia. She's just another agent. Her aunt Peggy Carter founded SHIELD with Howard Stark."

Olivia's eyes narrowed "were you sleeping with her?"

John shook his head a little too quickly "No, we're just co-workers that's all."

Olivia sighed "Sargent Barnes said you were sleeping with her."

John flashed a glare at Bucky "Why were you telling my wife lies? You're the one who was fucking Sharon, she has the pics to prove it."

Bucky chuckled "I didn't tell your wife anything, she overheard me talking to Y/N LAST NIGHT after we landed. I came straight here. What took you so long?"

John sputtered "B b bbut I had to debrief. Then I went home to a dark, empty house and I've been looking all over the place for my wife." he crossed his arms over his chest "I even called my in-laws and they didn't know anything."

Olivia raised an eyebrow skeptically "You called my parents?"

John nodded quickly

She scoffed "And they didn't know where I was? Bullshit! Why didn't you call me?"

John chuckled nervously "I did call you, I mean of course I did but it just went to voicemail."

Olivia hummed and reached into her pocket. "You sure you called me? Because I don't see any calls from you anytime recently. Sounds like more bullshit."

John tried again to take control of the conversation "Must be something wrong with your phone. Why don't we just go home and talk about it?"

Olivia shook her head "We're about to have brunch, I'll be home later."

John felt his temper rising "No Olivia" he spoke to her like she was a child, trying to put his foot down. "We are going home. Now. So get your shit and lets go."

Olivia looked at Dawn and Y/N nervously, they both nodded, giving her confidence "No John. You haven't cared where I was for months, leaving me alone without any contact while you were off fucking someone else so feel free to go home but I'm staying."

"NO! Olivia that's enough. I won't have my wife using that kind of language or defying me like that. Now lets go!" He moved towards her until Loki and Thor got in between them, growling.

He looked to his sister's "Would you call your dogs off? My wife and I are leaving."

Dawn laughed "Sorry Johnny, it's time for brunch. You're welcome to stay if you can be nice."

They headed for the dining room while John stood alone in the middle of the living room wondering when he had lost control. Eventually he went to eat but just sat at the table with his arms crossed throwing nasty looks at everyone else.

After brunch was eaten and the kitchen cleaned up Y/N and Bucky disappeared to her room, to take a shower and get cleaned up before Jessie showed up for dinner.

At 4pm the doorbell rang, then Jessie let herself in. The dogs were the first ones there to greet her and started barking and playing when they saw she had her dog, Luna, with her. All three of them caught the zoomies and raced around the house.

Y/N came to the entry to greet her daughter, with Bucky trailing behind.

After hugging her mother Jessie smiled and offered her hand to Bucky "You must be the infamous Sargent Barnes that I've heard so much about."

Bucky grinned shyly "Please call me Bucky. Your mom has told me a lot about you as well. I feel like I know you."

Jessie smirked "She didn't show you any of my baby pictures did she? It's a bad habit of hers."

Bucky chuckled "No, we haven't gotten to the important going thru photo albums stage yet. I don't have any so I can probably find a way to convince her to skate past that one."

Jessie grinned "You have my tentative approval since you have a sense of humor but I'll be honest, anyone who makes my mom smile like that is alright in my book."

Bucky exaggeratedly wiped his forehead "Whew! I was sweating on that one. I doubt your brother will offer the same grace."

Jessie rolled her eyes at the thought of her brother "Mikey isn't a complete tool but he's kind of a dumbass sometimes. He'll come around eventually."

Y/N made margaritas for everyone while her enchiladas were in the oven and they sat in the living room chatting and listening to music.

Shortly after 5pm the doorbell rang again and the dogs went crazy. Y/N was checking on dinner while Jessie made a salad so Bucky answered the door to a tall, slender young man who had Y/N's smile until he saw who opened the door and scowled at Bucky.

Bucky grinned while offering Michael his hand to shake. Michael grimaced but shook Bucky's hand. "You must be Michael, I'm Bucky, pleased to meet you."

Michael scoffed "I know who you are. Is that stupid sounding nickname supposed to make people forget you're the Winter Soldier?"

Bucky chuckled "No, it's been my nickname since I was a kid, based on my middle name Buchanan. Do you prefer to go by Michael or Mike?"

Michael shook his head "I'd prefer you didn't address me at all. Don't you have some important save slash terrorize the world mission to run off to?"

Bucky couldn't help but laugh out loud "No, I got back from that last night and came straight over to see your mom." Bucky gestured towards the pitcher "Do you want some margaritas?"

Michael sneered "I don't need your fake hospitality in the house I grew up in. I need to talk to my sister." and stormed out of the room. Bucky followed behind him but was much more relaxed and moved more slowly.

Y/N heard footsteps and looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Bucky but was surprised to see her son. She finished sprinkling cheese on top of the enchiladas and put them back into the oven then set the timer for 15 minutes before turning around to look at her son. She looked him over and raised her brow in question, noting the angry look on his face "Michael. Long time no see." leaning back against the counter she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "What brings you here tonight?"

Michael rolled his eyes at her "What? Am I not invited for Sunday dinner anymore?" he pointed at Bucky "He's not even family but he was in our living room playing hostess."

Y/N shook her head "You know you're always invited here, any day of the week, any time of the day but it's been months since you even answered a text from me."

He spat at her "I was hoping you would come to your senses but he's here so apparently not."

Y/N felt her shoulders tense "I'm not the one whose taken leave of my senses. If you can't treat me and my guest with respect you can turn around and leave."

John came out from Jessie's bedroom, where he had been arguing with Olivia all afternoon, to see what the dogs were making noise about. Olivia trailed behind him with an annoyed look on her face.

"Barnes! Why are you still here, I thought I told you to leave?"

He went to shake Michael's hand "Sorry kid, your mom still isn't listening to me. He'll get bored and toss her aside before long."

Bucky smirked at both of them and went to put his arm around her "Not a chance. You're stuck with me unless Y/N decides otherwise."

Y/N smiled and leaned into him before giving her brother and her son an angry glare "Johnny you get the same rule Michael does, treat me and my guest with respect or go eat somewhere else."

Olivia was tired of John trying to order everyone around "You need to stop trying to control everyone John, you aren't in the Army anymore. I'm staying for dinner, what you do is your problem."

John was ready to lose it and stormed out of the house only to pace the sidewalk in front, expecting Olivia to come after him but she didn't.

Michael made a face that looked like a rotten fish was being held under his nose but kept his mouth shut as his sat next to his sister, across from Bucky. Even when everyone else was talking and eating he ate silently, the look never changing.

Jessie finally got fed up with her brothers attitude and asked him a direct question about the show he was working on but he just gave her a dirty look and kept eating. She elbowed him in the ribs until he shouted.

"What is your deal, Jessie? I'm trying to eat and don't feel like talking."

Jessie rolled her eyes "You're sulking like a big baby who didn't get their way. Bucky is a good guy who went through some awful shit and he makes mom happier than I've seen her since dad died. Stop being a punk."

Bucky felt his chest warm up at this young woman he just met sticking up for him. And the idea that he makes Y/N happy.

He reached for her hand and pulled it to his mouth where he kissed her "That's all I want to do with the rest of my life, doll, make you happy."

Y/N felt her face heat up, he made her feel like a teenager again, the nervous excitement of new love, and leaned over to kiss him.

The rest of the meal was less tense but Michael still didn't talk much. Jessie did catch him laughing during one of Bucky's stories about pre-serum Steve Rogers but his smile dropped as soon as he caught her eye and the grin on her face.

By the time they had dessert he was smiling more and arguing with himself about reconsidering his opinion of Bucky.

They were cleaning up when the doorbell rang again, Dawn looked at Y/N who shrugged "I'm not expecting anyone" and kept the dogs back.

Dawn opened the door to a petite, well dressed, dark haired woman who stared at her for a moment "You must be the sister, Dawn right?"

Dawn nodded "and you?"

The woman sighed "I'm Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine but you can call me Val. I'm told your entire family is here tonight and I need a word."

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #just a number

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yellowcry · 22 days

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Brawn's done so much wrong

"She probably got infected." Isabela pointed out looking at Luisa for a second to make her message clear. Luisa's guts twitched into a knot. Of course, Mama's door was in the same condition as hers. Whatever happened to her was transmissible.

Another plate of stone Luisa suffering that I and @miracles-and-butterflies are writing? Yes, please

Luisa leaned against one of the pillars, not even daring to look up on her flickering engraved door. In her current state, she wasn't able to actually go upstairs which left her down here, in everyone's sight because there was no way to hide. Her parents most likely went to make another meal to try and cure her. Luisa was skeptical about this. Mama's food did nothing earlier, why would it change now?

Her hair fell out of its place, clinging to her torn clothes. Blood corked inside the spreading stone until it forced outside. The weights attached to her arms, what used to be her biceps before, burthened her, pushing her to the ground with gravity and making it even harder to move properly.

Even her movements were unnatural: twitchy and small because the stone just couldn't be moved properly. This didn't add anything better to what had been left of her humanity. Even if Luisa doubted there was anything at all. Was she even Luisa at this point? How much of her was left in this monstrous body?

It was cold. At first, Luisa thought it was because of the lifeless stone spreading underneath her skin. But the way flowers quivered on the wind made her realize that it was something with the weather. She heard her Tia rushing just nearby but couldn't look out in time. Her movements were too slow considering how much the pebble had spread in the core of her existence.

Luisa raised her head, her neck creaked, the stone in it cracked even so little. For a second, she stared at the shining doors. Her heart ached more than her body, seeing her own. It was high above her head, flickering like a fading flame. Her life, the one on which she had spent years of her life, was out of reach.

It took another second for her to realize that there was another door in the same state. Luisa gasped in horror, almost losing balance over her body for a bit. Her mother's room entrance wasn't any better than Luisa's. And, according to Luisa's personal experience, it meant nothing good.

Luisa pushed her way to the kitchen. It took a decent time to even arrive here. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing, startled by her not-so-quiet entrance. Luisa was never the silent type, but now it was even worse. Isabela swallowed, stepping away despite how far away she had been already. Luisa didn't blame her. Even if she couldn't see herself, she knew that she would have the same reaction in her sister's place.

At least, towering over everyone else in the family, Luisa didn't have to stand close to look over them and see what was going on. Papa and Tia Pepa sat by the sides of the chair Mama was in and patted her spine. Luisa could see a series of deep, nasty wounds spreading through the healer's body. They appeared out of nowhere and leaked with thick blood and then just grew together, healing. Skin boiled with blisters.

Luisa let out a shaky breath. Her first instinct was to run to her mother, but she stopped herself. Taking how she couldn't control her illustrious strength she didn't take the risk of hurting Julieta even more. Her fingers shifted in worry, scratching her skirt and pulling the threads apart.

Abuela's eyes returned to Julieta, demanding as always. "What did Mirabel do to you? We need to stop this-"

"Can you stop blaming my daughter for her damn existence for ten minutes?" Agustin snarled, his palm lying on Julieta's shoulder.

"You need to think about this family!" Argument. Again.

Luisa could hardly believe Abuela. She herself was in discomfort far before she even saw Mirabel. She just didn't pay attention to it until it was impossible to endure.

"She probably got infected." Isabela pointed out looking at Luisa for a second to make her message clear.

Luisa's guts twitched into a knot. Of course, Mama's door was in the same condition as hers. Whatever happened to her was transmissible. She looked down in shame. She didn't mean to transfer this thing to anyone. Her role was to protect her family, but the only thing she did ever since her body started to change was causing them harm. What was left of her muscles winced at the thought of doing something even worse. How far would she go? Bless her, Julieta only wanted to comfort her, and Luisa had paid her with this?

Her hand moved a little, slightly curving around the opposite arm to grab it. But it wasn't like Luisa could feel it anyway. Right now sounds were telling her about her physical condition as much if not more than physical senses. The cracking came from her body when she dared to bend her limbs even so little, rough attrition against the numb stone. She couldn't bring herself to look at her family. Listen to her parents' argument with Abuela over Isabela's words. Luisa wasn't exactly on their side. For as much as she wished for it not to be true, Isabela had the best proof. Her parents were the closest to her ever since it started. It made far more sense for Julieta to be infected when she was this close. Like a plague jumped from person to person. Luisa couldn't comprehend why they even bothered to protect her. She undoubtedly wasn't their daughter anymore. They should just disown her.

Yes, her Mama was now affected too. But it still was different. With all these injuries appearing on her, her body wasn't altered from the inside. She still was a human. Much unlike Luisa who couldn't label herself as anything even remotely human. Not when her body melted together, pushing the blood, water, air - everything out of her body until it was dull from the core.

Agustin felt torn apart between the need to comfort his wife and his daughter. He looked at Pepa. And as she nodded he moved from Julieta to Luisa

"Mija, how are you doing?" He squeezed her arm, not battling an eye when the rough surface scratched his palm. Luisa pulled away, stepping back. She had contaminated her mom already, she didn't want to affect her dad too. Especially when there was no way to tell if it happened without a magic door.

Agustin fell to the ground with a thud because of a rapid movement. Luisa felt tears rising in her eyes. She didn't mean to cause even more harm. She just couldn't control her strength. "I'm sorry." She murmured to nobody in particular, tasting the scree. What else could she say? Her breathing hitched as her fingers cracked in an attempt to move outside of the place they were locked into.

"It's okay," Her Papa fixed his glasses, pushing them up. He made another attempt to comfort Luisa.

"Don't touch me." She snapped without wanting to, stone rubbed against what was left of her human body, making the blood leak under her blouse. Her face dropped down even more, even if it was barely visible with her restricted facial muscles. Why did she keep hurting everyone around her? Luisa breathed out, her eyes were running around. Between her concerned parents and Tios, shifting in pain mom, tensed Abuela and terrified grossed Isabela. "I don't want this to affect you too..." She begged, hoping to give herself at least some excuse, even if changed nothing in how awful she felt.

Seeing worry in her dad's eyes was almost as much of a torture as a stone draining out her humanity. "Lulu, you won't," he begged, restricting himself from getting too close. It would only make Luisa feel worse. "You aren't some sick patient. You won't harm anyone."

Ironic of him to say that. The only thing Luisa seemed to do now was hurt everyone around her for no reason.

#encanto #luisa madrigal #fanfic #ao3 author #cursed gifts au

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kickingitwithkirk · 6 months

Text

Restless Man -Pt 1

Summary: Beau Arlen finds himself in the middle of a case with more twists than a country road.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reina Cetanwakuwa-Stanley

Word Count: 1357

Warnings: cursing, show level violence, derogatory remarks (some in native languages)

Square Filled: @jacklesversebingo -Escaping Their Fate

A/N: The inklings for this started the first time I heard Jensen singing Restless Man. This work is partially from historical information and canon elements from the Big Sky series.

*Set after the series finally 3:13 That Old Feeling.

A/N II: All Native American words/sentences in this part are Lakota resourced from freelang.net and glosbe.com *some algorithmically generated on these sites.

*Translation: lala -grandfather Cetanwakuwa -attacking hawk or to hunt and chase

*divider by @firefly-graphics *no beta -all mistakes are mine

prologue masterlist

“Hoyt slow down!” Arlen grabs the dashboard as the vehicle rounds a sharp curve too fast. “You good? Where’s your head at?”

“Nowhere. I’m all good.”

“All good my ass. You’re still a bad liar, Hoyt, can’t help noticing you white-knuckling that wheel over there. You know I’m here to listen if you want to talk about whatever it is between you and this Rihanna...”

“Her name is Reina and I told you there’s nothing to talk about.” He gives her a look. “Jesus, Beau, you're like a dog with a goddamn bone. Drop it!” The blonde snaps at the handsome man in her passenger seat making him laugh. “Not the first time I've been told that. Okay, I’ll let it go for now. But the offer stands.” Arlen changes the subject yammerin on about his latest video chat with his daughter, reminding Hoyt of their first meeting.

***

Hoyt walked into the Sheriff’s Department already put out before meeting Walter Tubbs' temporary replacement and Cassie’s warning that Arlen was very Texan proved true. Not to mention the man was a never-ending chatterbox. Eventually, as she constantly reminded everyone, the temporary acting sheriff allowed some of that veneer to peel back, exposing a little of the man underneath.

A man who loved too hard and had too many ghosts clinging to him, something Jenny Hoyt was way too familiar with. Her feelings shifted after a few months of working together and she began contemplating what a relationship with the transplanted Texan would be like.

Then things went sideways when Cassie was hired to find a missing hiker.

Her inquiries led to a glamping excursion run by Sunny and Buck Barnes, where coincidentally Arlen's daughter Emily and her stepfather were staying. The case also reopens a decades old unsolved murder and the discovery of fifteen million in stolen Crypto. They all became intertwined revealing Buck as a serial killer who kidnapped Emily and Denise and ended with his, and several others, deaths.

Arlen paid a surprise visit to Hoyt's home in a quandary the night after their rescue tells her that his ex-wife Carla had taken their daughter back to Texas leaving him unsure about staying in Montana. After a few beers, things started getting close to crossing the professional/private line between them. He left saying neither was clear-headed enough to make any rational decisions that would change them from colleagues and occasional confidants.

A week later, Arlen was served court papers stating that he’d allowed their daughter to remain in a place of known danger and Carla was granted primary custody with all communication between them monitored by a court-appointed third party.

Arlen had what Cassie calls his tantrum then sought legal counsel from a lawyer he knew back in Houston. The lawyer advised with his checkered history in law enforcement and at home, to follow the stipulations to the letter if he hoped for a chance in hell of regaining his parental rights before Emily turned eighteen.

***

Arlen felt Hoyt’s skeptical side-eye before she asked. “So how much did Denise tell you?”

“That Reina is the black sheep for not going into family business. And something about the Stanleys being descendants of the Four Georgies?”

“The Four Georgians,” she corrected, pulling into the Jefferson City First National Bank’s Park lot. “In 1864, four prospectors found gold in Last Chance Gulch and agreed to keep it quiet. But a few months later, more miners started arriving.” She finished summarizing Helena’s origins as they entered the bank and were assailed by a harassed-looking bank manager.

Several hours later

Lewis & Clark County Sheriff's Department

Sergeant Madge Crowder greeted the returning duo with, “Got a visitor, sheriff.”

Arlen gestures around the empty waiting area, “There's no one out here,” and she comments, “Was a minute ago.” Before he could ask, Deputy Mo Poppernack popped up nervously glancing between Hoyt and Arlen. “Everything okay, Popcorn? You seem kinda,” Arlen says waving his hand.

“No sir, I mean yes sir...Beau, I’m good. Someone is waiting in your office to see you.” Still eyeing the fidgety deputy, Arlen addresses both, “Let me know if we get anything on the getaway car,” and heads off to meet his mystery guest.

***

Entering his office, Arlen spies the Stetson from that morning sitting upside down on his desk.

“Hello, I’m Sheriff Arlen. What can I,” and something that rarely happens happens when its owner turns, and Arlen loses his voice. The partially open blinds cast his visitor in light and shadow as his chartreuse eyes drink in every accentuated detail, bone structure hinting of being descended from the indigenous peoples but other ancestries contributing to the lighter hueing of skin, eyes, and hair.

“You must be the infamous Reina Stanley.”

“I see my reputation proceeds me,” her voice has the distinctive native Montanan drawl held out her hand, "I would appreciate it if we could keep this matter between us for now Sheriff.” Arlen shakes the offered hand surprised at the firmness of her grip.

“Call me Beau. Please,” he gestures for her to sit as he settles into his chair, “I assume this has to do with earlier?” She raises an eyebrow and he elaborates. “A friend and I caught some of that public performance this morning and said they thought it was you.” An amused smile graces her lush lips reminding him of pink beautyberry fruit.

“I see Denise Brisbane is still the town gossip.” Arlen chuckled, “She does have her ear to the ground. Denise didn’t go into details but mentioned your family has substantial influence in this state.”

“You’re mama brought you up right. Most people aren’t so polite about saying the Stanleys are not to be fucked with.” Arlen couldn’t stop the flash of surprise crossing his features. “Okay then. I'm guessing your visit has something to do with that brouhaha this morning?”

“Yes and no. I’m here on behalf of lala; my grandfather, who requested I give you this,” she handed him a sealed envelope. “I don’t recall meeting any of your kin.” Arlen remarks pulling out a letter with a small key taped to it reads it out loud. “I had a safety deposit box put in your name Beau Arlen and ask you to take my granddaughter with you when examining its contents. You will understand why I had to take these precautions and do what is necessary with the information enclosed. Gerald Centanwakuwa-Stanley” He looked up in surprise.

“Hold on, Gerald was your grandfather? The same Gerald I’d go trout fishing with?”

“Walter Tubb’s said you were quick on the uptake. Lala Gerald chose to use his given name outside of business.” The sheriff tipped his head. “Right, you're a transplant. The Stanley descendent who settled here left a will stipulating that all direct descendants maintain the family surname to keep their inheritance, including any man marrying in.” Reina paused scrutinizing him giving Arlen a fluttering he hadn't felt in years.

“Tubb also said you have a set of huevos for taking the job even after getting an earful about the undersheriff.” Arlen chuckled, “Yeah, Tubb had a few things to say about Hoyt. But she knows to stay between the lines, I’ll have her back.”

“Jenny Hoyt doesn’t know the meaning of staying between the lines. Excuse me,” she fishes out her phone and frowns, “Fuc...fraken lawyers, ‘cuse my language. When will you be free to check out that box?” There was a knock on the door and Poppernack stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt sir. We got a call that the First National getaway cars been spotted headin' down I-15.”

“And that's my cue to leave.” Reina gestures to his phone, "May I?” Arlen nodded, “I’m leaving you my personal number,” she hands it back, “Text me when you’re free to deal with that matter for lala.”

Several officers, along with Arlen and Poppernack, appreciatively watch her retreating form. “Please tell me all female Rangers as good looking as her?” Poppernack asks, “‘Cause if they are, I’m booking my next vacation in Texas.” Arlen turns and says...

“I’m sorry..she’s a what?!”

tbc

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

@deans-spinster-witch

#beau arlen #sheriff beau arlen #beau arlen x ofc #jenny hoyt #cassie dewell #densie brisbane #mo poppernack #big sky #jensen ackles

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k-ate1288 · 2 months

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~Drogon sketch

It took me a long time to draw it. For the most part, I was waiting for a detailed description of the dragons from the book, but I found nothing except the color. Therefore, relying on the series. My style of drawing also affected me, but in the end, thanks to the spikes, it seems to be similar😬

I would like to describe a little the emotions after reading and watching "A Song of Ice and Fire" / "Game of Thrones".

I was reading and watching the series at the same time, because I wanted to compare the plot. And I liked the fact that I know a lot of moments that were not shown in the series and at the same time I did not like that some moments were not shown. Therefore, there were two attitudes towards the series, but after the book ended, but the plot of the series developed further, I completely fell in love.

I used to be skeptical about "Game of Thrones", and I didn't even think about the book, but after getting acquainted with this universe, I want to study everything thoroughly and find out. Therefore, I did not stop only at the Song of Ice and Fire cycle, but continued reading others. So far, it's "Fire and Blood." It's hard for me to read it, but my interest takes over. I am also looking forward to the rest of the books that are still being written and in development.

I want to add a little more about the last episodes of the series. My first post about mentioning game of thrones was a tournament horse in Lannister colors, where I wrote that I did not support them. At that time, yes, but when I reached the final, I was amazed by the Lannister brothers' changes and Cersei courage. I don't think that "I felt sorry for them" will fit here, for the most part I'm sad that the characters who went through such serious trials died, including Deni (and besides Tyrion, he's alive, but it's hard for me to imagine how he went through all this emotionally). At the time of reading the last part of the book, I was thinking about a happy ending for Daenerys and mercy towards Cersei, but this turn of events in the series is probably correct but sad. I saw the spoilers that Daenerys was going to die, and as soon as everything came to this, I assumed that either Aria or Tyrion would do it, but I didn't expect John to do it. It was a shock to me.

I immersed myself in this world with all my soul and now I'm a fan of it. I already have a lot of ideas for drawings. Unfortunately, I'm limited to dragons and horses, but I think I have to try to portray wolves😵‍💫

It is difficult to convey emotions in writing, but I really wanted to do it.

This acquaintance happened by chance, as I was listening to an audiobook at work. I lost the sequence of chapters in all the books except "A Song of Ice and Fire", so out of desperation I started listening to it and was surprised that I liked it so much. And from that moment on, I was rushing to work just to continue listening to the book 👉👈

#art #рисунок #рисование #драконы #dragon #dragon art #traditional art #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #drogon #house targaryen #opinion #thinking out loud #Мнение #Мысли в слух #Песнь льда и пламени #Игра престолов

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stylincheetah · 1 year

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Trigun Stampede: A Multi-Part Critique

To preface this very long and passionate, multi-part essay: I am a massive fan of Trigun. I have loved the series since I was a kid, and the manga has always held a very special place in my heart. The initial announcement of Stampede had me so, so excited, but my skepticism set in as soon as I saw the first trailer. I gave the show a fair shake, and watched it to the end.

Ultimately, I have a lot of issues I want to address, starting with this first part! Here, I expand on my thoughts regarding the overall plot, side characters, and one poorly adapted organization in particular. More to come, if anyone cares to hear the rest of my thoughts in the future.

Part 1: Side Characters, World Building, and Cardboard-Flavored Nonsense

[Spoilers for Trigun Stampede and Trigun Maximum follow.]

-PLOT: A Mile a Minute-

Let’s start simple: the plot and pacing were all over the place. Sequences came and went in the blink of an eye, and none of the characters left a lasting impact. Episode 5 was, in a lot of ways, the end of my hope for the show. The cuts between the past and future scenes were so confusing that my friends and I were having a lot of difficulty keeping track of the plot at large. So much was shoved into every single episode that the show was constantly primed to burst, yet most scenes felt like little more than hot air to pad out the runtime. There was no room to build lasting connections with the characters, plot, or any aspect of Gunsmoke’s world. Interesting story beats were picked up and tossed aside without a single care (looking at you, Eye of Michael). And it was all in service of a (very bombastic and disjointed) finale, and the announcement of a Season 2. Somehow, that only makes me more upset. I’d understand if Stampede’s creators were trying to make the most of a 12-episode run by throwing in as much fan service as possible, but by making it clear that they did have more time to work with, the entirety of Season 1 gets chucked out the window as a ploy to set up future story arcs. By the time Episode 12 reaches its conclusion, not a single character is graced with anything beyond surface-level depth. Meryl, Nick, Knives, Rem, and worst of all, Vash, have nothing compelling to bring to the table. They’re caricatures of their manga–and even 90s anime–counterparts, and lend very little to the paint-by-numbers story set in place for them. Speaking of characters…

-Legato, Livio, Elendira: The Gun-No-Guns-

Talk about character assassination.

There was one solitary interesting idea established by this show with Rollo’s inclusion. Sure! Tie Monev the Gale to Vash, that’s a fun and interesting way to re-establish the character. Not that the concept’s very original, considering there were other Gung-Ho’s (like Leonov) who already had their grudges against Vash in the source material. But fine, so be it. Then we get Legato, Livio, and Elendira. Oh boy. Let me try to make this quick.

Legato “I don’t understand Love and Emotion” Bluesummers

Who are you? Aside from the fact that Legato appears for a fraction of screen time as a minion of the Eye of Michael (more on that later), his character serves absolutely 0 purpose in the grand over-arching plot of the story. No grudge against Vash, no adoration for Knives–not even a fun and horrifying on-screen murder spree! I kid, but not really. For how tremendously threatening his other versions are, this cameo of his was a major letdown that only gave way to more and more disappointment as the show went on. I have very little to say about him, other than the fact that his inclusion was as forgettable as his reworked “pretty boy” design.

Livio

Well-animated backstory aside, Livio was as flat as paper. His introduction in the manga is fast, punchy, and immediately menacing. He fights Nick with agency, and at the very least manages to stand by his convictions, however misguided they are. He fights because he believes in Chapel, and buys into the Eye of Michael wholeheartedly. He says little, but at least he has the capacity to do so at all! He’s not a mindless zombie–he’s Livio the Doublefang, and has the bite to back up the title. His new design is interesting, but fails to capture the looming weight of his manga counterpart, and, again he serves as little purpose to the story as Legato. He’s inserted as a temporary distraction, and acts a cheap vessel for the show’s lame attempts to squeeze out some extra characterization for Nick. Not that it leads to anything, but oh well. At least we got Razlo–for one frame. Wasn’t that neat?

Elendira…oh boy

If I had the mental fortitude, I would write an essay twice as long solely on how poorly they messed up Elendira as a character. Point-blank, the show’s portrayal of her is transphobic, and a far cry from what made her so interesting to begin with. In the manga, Elendira is a trans woman, the strongest member of the Gung-Ho’s, and one of the strongest humans alive period—a true force to be reckoned with. She’s witty and introspective, and plays off of Legato and Knives in very captivating ways. Her arsenal is unique and doesn’t require an explanation or forethought–she’s just cool, like a lot of Trigun is when it’s doing everything right. Antagonist or otherwise, she’s an interesting and refreshing member of the cast, and a relatively grounded portrayal of a trans character considering when her source material was released. Not to mention, she’s got her own perspective regarding the world at large that lends to some pretty cool scenes between herself and other members of the cast. And then, Stampede strips her of all of that. Not only is she no longer trans (which, why??? Why was that so hard to keep in?) but she’s also severely aged down, and transformed into some sick plant-human hybrid that serves no greater purpose than to throw a tantrum and kill off Roberto in one of the most contrived scenes of the show (RIP King). Not to mention Nick calling her a “monster”, “creep”, etc. Trans erasure is bad enough, but to link the only trans character to the idea of being a non-human freak isn’t just bad writing; it’s downright offensive.

Zazie, at least, was pretty close to their original version, and got a really neat redesign. I dig it! So boom, there’s a positive. But hey–they’re not even called the Gung-Ho Guns here. Which makes sense given the prequel spin on the story, but then why were Monev and E.G Mine tossed in? Oh right. “Fanservice”. Can’t wait to see how they skirt around this major plot thread without tripping over their own feet.

-Conrad: A Lesson In Humanity-

I liked Conrad in the manga. He was a bit player in a much grander story, but at least he served a purpose beyond exposition. His first introductory scene with Knives made for a really tender moment, which contrasted well with their eventual reunion. His presence by Knives’s side was fascinating, and I enjoyed the peeks into the inner turmoil of a man who had once devoted himself to the study of Plants, ethics be damned. Volume 6 has a really great scene where he and Knives come to a Plant on its last legs, and Conrad comments on how terrifying it feels to walk through a city while effectively leashed to a sentient atom bomb. While Knives watches in horror and disgust as his sister’s life is snuffed out for “one last run”, Conrad falls to his knees, begging for Knives to forgive the human race. Sounds familiar, right? Because Stampede rather shamelessly lifts elements of these pages for its mini-standoff in Episode 9. What the anime fails to recognize is that Conrad is not, in fact, some bland monologuing evil scientist hell-bent on filling the world with lots of overzealous plant babies. He’s a human, one who stands by Knives out of fear, pity, and an inherent guilt that drives him to atone in service of a boy he no longer recognizes. He does not approve of Knives’ actions, and still has strong convictions that give him hope that a future beyond his own exists for humanity. When the events of Volume 6 come to a head, he’s bold in his assertion that even a lone, insignificant human can know something Knives doesn't. And still, he offers help, and offers to keep his place by Knives’s side, presumably to dissuade him from harming anyone else. It’s a futile effort, but serves as a very strong and memorable moment that leaves the reader with a firm impression of his character. Stampede Conrad is a boring coward who likes to monologue, and whose motivations barely make a lick of sense. He’s as generic as the rest of the tropey collection of caricatures filling in the secondary roles. Seriously, I was waiting for Meryl to finally show some agency and shoot the guy, but that would’ve been too much to ask for.

-The Eye of Michael: Goodbye, Worldbuilding-

The Eye of Michael, as a cult, is a really cool and well-implemented idea…in the manga. The 90s anime doesn’t touch on it much, and Stampede puts too much of a spotlight on it in order to tie up loose ends that really didn’t need tying up.Everything circles back to them in one way or another, even if it translates to utter nonsense. Legato’s cool powers? The Eye of Michael! Monev and E.G. Mine? The Eye of Michael! Knives and Legato’s newfound proclivity for bible thumping? Boy howdy!

The Eye of Michael worked because it had a very strong identity and iconography that made its forces immediately recognizable. Clad in black, draped in Christian allegory, and touting slick cross-shaped weaponry, its members were well-defined and given ample time with which to make themselves known. They were an organization independent of Knives and his agenda, built by human hands for human means. By making every bad guy one of Conrad’s failed experiments within the cult, the threat of the organization has been effectively neutered. Once Conrad’s gone…who’s left to keep it running? What makes this crapshoot of a science fair worth a damn? If it’s not one of the many human-led organizations shown to be perpetuating destruction on Gunsmoke, thereby lending credence to Knives’s perspective, what’s even the point of keeping it around? I’ll touch on Stampede’s overall disrespect for the original’s compelling religious undertones in a future post, but I do think it’s worth noting that the Eye has been reduced to little more than a backdrop in Stampede, and has no purpose beyond its function as a spawn point for supplementary enemies. Trigun is not a story that needs a pretty bow plopped atop every unanswered question. In fact, the world feels a lot more intriguing and realistic because of how much goes unsaid, giving its weird cast of characters plenty of room to breathe. From puppeteers and saxophone players to Catholic assassins-for-hire, Gunsmoke features a whole cavalcade of killers from all walks of life. Knives hand-picks each one like he’s building a deck of cards, however nonsensical, because it suits his needs. The world is terrible with and without his influence, because there’s never going to be a perfect world without some form of strife. Where’s the fun in delving deeper into such a cool concept if the end result is cheapened by its over-explanation? It’s like the writers were trying to lift the curtain and yanked the cord so hard , it broke the mechanism altogether. What we’re left with is the hollow remnants of a planet that can barely keep its aesthetics straight, and a plot whose antagonists lack independence and motivation.

Thus concludes part 1 of my very tired, saddened rant. I’m coming hot off the heels of episode 12, and I definitely need a bit more time to collect my thoughts on the rest of Stampede’s hot mess. Look forward to that, I guess!

#trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #really hope this reaches the right audience and it's not just me because I'm going stir-crazy #vash #knives #legato #livio #elendira

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