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#??? like they went around with their knifes out for a GOOD while
darnell-la · 1 day
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𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥
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pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader
warning: Wolverine struggling to regenerate, stabbing, brutal killing, manhandling, pinning, trapped, cutting clothes off, breaking skin, rough sex, begged, hard orgasm, etc.
request: After Logan gets taken back to Japan for his old friend buddy's last goodbye, idk if you've seen that movie but you know how their interaction goes, and then the old friend dies. Basically, people start going after his granddaughter uh sorry anyway after the old friend's funeral Logan gets away with the granddaughter and heads to the safe house. Once there Logan gets to relax for a few days till more bad guys show up and try taking the granddaughter. It makes Logan angry and as he ends up fighting one of the bad guys he discovers it's a female and that's when female y/n comes in place. Maybe Logan is just too tired and overall angry he takes it out on y/n in a very aggressive nsfw fashion of course
note: this story is a bit all over the place because of how angry the Wolverine is in here. He isn’t as nice as usual. He takes what he wants, and of course, y/n’s going to take it all.
Please comment, like, reblog, request, and follow us!
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How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
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“Mariko?” Logan growled as he woke up on the couch he chose to take so the princess could take the bed. “Hey — Mariko!” Logan groans, sleeping from the well-needed nap after all he’s been through for the past few days.
“Hey?” Logan heard Mariko speak as she opened the front door. Logan quickly leaned up from the couch, remembering that there were people after her.
“Shit,” the man groaned under his breath as he got up, falling at first, but got back up and ran to the front door. She was speaking to someone who he couldn’t see.
“Alright, talk time over,” Logan said as he pulled Mariko from the door. He went to shut it until he saw who stood in front of him. A woman.
“Hi, I was just wondering if you were interested in some fruits?” The woman asked, making him look down at the covered basket she had in hand.
“Come on, Logan — We haven’t eaten a good meal in a while,” the princess spoke behind Logan. He had jumped at her voice, almost forgetting she was there. He was too focused on the woman standing before him in a white wavey dress.
“Uh- Sure, sure — Two for the lady and one for me,” Logan said as he dug into his pockets, looking down to see if he had changed on him.
As Logan locked for chained, he saw the woman open the basket. He saw the fruit, but under the few was a knife. A sharp snide that looked like it was made out of carbonadium. Something that can kill him.
“Shit- Princess, safe room-“ before he could finish as he turned around, the woman kicked open the door, making the man fall to the ground.
Mariko screamed as y/n ripped her dress off, showing her in a suit. The wavey skirt and the tight shirt that was swordproof, made Mariko’s heart pound. She knew this was the doing of her father.
Y/n jumped onto the man’s back as several other men came into the house from different angles.
Y/n quickly stuck the man in his upper shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. She twisted in carbonadium knife, smirking at the pain he finally could feel. “You won’t be healing soon,” she said before getting off of the man to go after Mariko.
“No, no!” The man tried grabbing after the woman, but he couldn’t. The pain that went through his shoulder only angered him. This whole fucking situation angered him.
Logan growled as he struggled to get up onto his knees. It took him a while, but he finally got to his feet, almost tipping over, but he held himself together.
The man reached behind his back, struggling to find the knife until he did. The man gripped it hard before pulling it out with an animalistic yell.
“Hurry! He’s coming back!” Y/n, the woman yelled at her men as they tried breaking done the steal door Mariko was hiding behind. She was quick to run, giving Logan time to get up and active.
“Who sent you?” Logan asked, slightly knowing who it could be, but he needed to know for sure. “He’s back! Fight!” Y/n yelled, making her men turn around and attack Logan.
Y/n stayed behind, trying to cut the wires to the key, but it would take a while. She needed to cut the right ones.
The noises Logan made as he fought the men with carbonadium swords, slightly scared y/n. She told Mariko’s grandfather that she was ready, but she knew nothing about Logan.
He was an animal. An animal that has been holding anger for years, and these past few days have been bottling up inside of him.
The carbonadium wasn’t working on the man. Yes, it cut through his skin, making it sting worse than usual, but he still slightly healed. The adrenaline in his body was the danger.
“Retreat! Retreat!” One of her men said, making her turn around to see Logan rip apart the last few remaining. She jumped at the way his claws sliced one’s neck.
Logan was on one knee, in a superhero landing position as he breathed heavily, claws out and to the side as he tightened his fists.
“Shit,” y/n took off and ran towards the back door that was open after Logan looked up at her. His eyes were dark, his fangs showed, his mouth quivered and his growls were deep. She was the last one left. She needed to get out.
Y/n almost made it to the front door, hoping she could make it to the van they all came in, but she was caught and thrown back in the house.
Y/n whined as she grabbed her side, feeling pain in an instant. She was no mutant. She was a human. She’s trained almost her whole life, but she would never stand a chance against someone like the Wolverine.
“I’ll give you a chance like I gave you men. Who sent you!?” Logan asked, walking over to her as she slowly crawled backward on the floor.
“Please, spare me,” the young lady said as he held a hand out, still not willing to give up her senpai’s name. “Who the fuck sent you woman!” Logan yelled as he hovered over her.
“Logan! The fight is done, just let her go! This is not her fault!” Mariko yelled from inside the safe room. As Logan heard her pushing the codes, he ran over to the door and roped out the outside keypad, making the inside malfunction.
“Logan? Logan! Logan!” Mariko yelled, feeling his anger from inside the room. “Stay there, princess. I’ve got some business to take care of,” Logan said as he looked back at y/n.
Y/n quickly got up in pain and ran. She yelled, hoping someone would maybe hear and help her, but even if they could hear her, who would want to go against the Wolverine.
“You ain’t gettin’ out of here,” Logan lunged after the young lady until he got her, picking her up and slamming onto the hardwood table in the dining room.
Y/n yelped, trying to move and get rid of the pain, but Logan picked her up and slammed her back onto the table.
“Ow!” She cried out as he stared down at her in anger. One hand retracted his claws as he pushed her shoulder down and the other stayed out, hovering over her face.
“Don’t make me hurt you if I don’t have to, Bub. Who sent you?” The man asked as his blades slightly stuck at her neck to scare her.
Usually, he would’ve killed her but now, the way she looked at him in fear and struggled with his one hand on her shoulder, made his breathing slow down. She wasn’t alarming. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
“You were badass just a second ago. Climbing in my back and stabbing me with that carbonadium or adamantium shit,”
“Please, just- Just let me go,” y/n begged as the blades broke the skin, making tears slip from her eyes. “Why can’t you just tell me, kid. You’re risking your life for someone who doesn’t care for yours,” Logan said, feeling a bit sad for the young lady, but he couldn’t show that. At least not at this time.
“I will never give his name. I serve him with all my life,” y/n said, eyes so glossy, she could barely see Logan. “That’s a shame, princess,” Logan traced his blades down the girl's neck, making viable scratches.
The man watched the woman’s mouth part, trying to keep in the pain, but she was human. It stung like hell.
“You’ll do anything for your master? Anything?” He asked as his blade stopped in the middle of her shirt, at the top of the collar. “Anything,” she tried seeming tough, but that soon faded as the made ripped at her suit.
Y/n’s tits flashed the man, making him groan low. “No bra on a mission? What did you expect when you got here?” Logan said, making it seem like she dressed this way for him.
“W-Wolverine, please,” y/n sobbed low as his eyes trailed down the rest of her body. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be out on missions. Especially for me. Do you know what I do to those girls?” Logan asked as he slowly lifted her skirt.
Mariko had no idea what was going on from front the outside. He had destroyed the speaker on the keypad. He can tell himself he didn’t plan this, but distorting the speaker could argue against that.
“P-Please — Take her, and I’ll leave. I won’t follow,” y/n said, feeling her heart rate speed up. “But I haven’t told you what I do to pretty girls like you,” Logan said as his blade trailed down her stomach until it cut her panties.
Y/n whined as she bucked her hips, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. The man chuckles as he rips the rest of her panties off.
“I teach them a real lesson,” Logan said as he began tugging on his belt. “W-Wolverine, stop this. Spare me, I swear I won’t follow,” Y/n said as her eyes kept switching from his eyes to his crotch.
“After I’m done with you, you’ll be coming with us. You’ve fucked yourself over,” Logan said. “N-No — No, I can’t,” y/n finally began pushing at his arm and pushed her shoulder down.
Logan retracted his last claws before he reached into his jeans and pulled himself out. Y/n had stopped moving for a second, eyes widening as she scanned his length.
The man was painfully hard, cock red and slightly blue as pre cum slipped past the slit of his tip. “N-No,” y/n stuttered as she slowly began to fight again, kicking and clawing at him, but nothing was working.
“You said you’d do anything for your master. Let’s see how much you’ll do,” he said as he moved up in between her legs, making her legs part wide.
“N-No, sir!” Y/n pushed at his lower stomach as he pushed at her entrance. “C’mon, princess. Let me in,” Logan growled, hands coming to her waist to grip and pull her into him.
“S-Sir,” y/n stuttered with a whine as she threw her head back. The young lady's back arched as her hands grabbed his wrist, trying to grab onto something to help the pain she felt in her lower stomach.
He was huge, and he knew that. He was just too angry to care about it. He needed to take it out somehow, and this random assassin that was sent to kill him and take Mariko was perfect. She was perfect.
“Should’ve quit, baby. Should’ve said no to this mission,” the man began moving at a fast hard pace, watching her body jolt at his strokes.
“P-Please, stop!” Y/n cried out, feeling her orgasm near. She was going to cum by the Wolverine pounding into her. How could she? How could she do this to her people?
“You sure, Bub? You’re about to cum — I can feel it,” Logan growled as he snapped his hips faster, watching her grip his worst tightened and shake her head.
It was getting hard to hold in her moans. He used her so well, and she couldn’t lie and say she hated it. Her body said the complete opposite. She was going to gush around him, and he was going to shoot it.
“Names Logan, by the way, Bub, and I’m gonna use all my anger out on you,”
Logan pulled back and picked the girl up, throwing her over his shoulders, and made his way into the spare room he let Mariko have last night.
“L-Logan,” y/n said the man’s name, not actually knowing why. The man threw y/n on the bed, instantly hovered over her, and turned her onto her stomach.
“Please, spare-“ y/n went to beg again, embarrassed that she wanted to explode, but he ignored her as he forced his way back through her slit, stretching her at a different angle.
Y/n cried into the pillow as her hands flew back, trying to slow his thrust by placing her hands on his lower stomach.
The man was shirtless when he opened the door, and at first, y/n was thankful for that because she could stab him better, but now, she was glad that she could feel him.
She was a struggling mess, giving him a hard time, but she knew deep down she loved this. She loved being taken just like this by him. By the Wolverine.
“C’mon, baby — Take it,” Logan grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them on her back before pushing down and snapping his hips.
Y/m felt like her back was going to break. Her vision had already gone blurry and her legs had started trembling.
With no words, only moans, y/n came around Logan’s cock, soaking him and the bed. “Ah huh, ah huh,” the man groaned as one of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back to hear her.
“Don’t fuckin’ hide it, kid. Cry on my cock proudly. Keep sickin’ me in for your master,” Logan said with a smirk, knowing she’d feel embarrassed if he knew what she was up to.
“Assassin my ass — Look at you. Fuckin’ weak. So fuckin’ weak, you can barely talk,” Logan teased before pushing her head into the pillow she was just crying in.
“Take it, take it! Fuckin’ take me, baby,”
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katerinaaqu · 18 hours
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Ismarus! Ismarus!
Another random inspiration I dedicate to my friend @artsofmetamoor Title inspired by the cry of Alexander the Great's army when they ellegedly telled "Thalatta! Thalatta!" ("Sea! Sea!") out of delight to reach the sea while here it is spoken in a different manner altogether
Odysseus was feeling his stomach unsettled and that was not normal for a man like him who as used at the movements of the ship. The storm was very severe after they left Troy. Perhaps, though, it wasn’t the storm itself that made him feel seasick but rather the timing of it and the conditions that brought the storm to their way.
“The storm happened right after the departure from Troy…divided us. Gods, this godsforsaken war! Blasted war!”
He remembered he prayed to Athena for forgiveness on the events that occurred at Troy. His brain was still turning like the top making his already turning stomach even more unsettled than it should be. All the scenarios, all the “what if”s and “what if not”s were roaming around his mind like the voices in the nightmares he was getting!
“I should have said something!” he thought for a billionth time to himself, “That girl was innocent! Blasted Achilles! Blasted Neoptolemus! Blasted war! I should have said something in the council! I should have stopped them! Agamemnon tried! Why not I? Why not I?”
For some reason he was numb; the massacre of Troy had taken all life out of him. Upon the news of the interpretation given by Calchas that the spirit of Achilles demanded his own tribute, Odysseus couldn’t react. He couldn’t say a single word of objection to the council. He had found no reason or energy to oppose anymore… He remembered Polyxena, the way her eyes became glassy with death as Neoptolemous pierced a knife through her tender heart. He remembered he had to hold her down. He realized all he could do was to plead for them to give her a painless death! Hecuba went mad in sorrow in his arms…he still remembered her screams! He still remembered the cries of Astyanax as he fell off the walls…he remembered the accusations of Andromache at Troy! His stomach turned again and this time he couldn’t keep it in. He leaned to the edge of the ship to throw up whatever contents he had left in his stomach (which wasn’t much, he noticed. He barely had some acid in there for they hadn’t eaten anything for days because of the storm!). He felt Polites’s arms to his shoulders.
“You okay?”
“Yeah…” Odysseus lied mopping his mouth with his hand, “It is this blasted storm! And we haven’t eaten anything for days. That is not good for seasickness…”
His lie came easily to his lips. Many of his men also suffered after all so it wasn’t completely unbelievable. Polites nodded as well so that would be enough for now (even though he knew Polites had heard him moan in his sleep many times over as nightmares plundered his mind ever since the sacking of Troy or the events that followed it). He looked around and inspected the sad condition of his companions. The storm had blown off several of their provisions too and the rich gifts from Troy, or some of them at least. They probably also lost a couple of slaves in the sea. At least he noticed all his 12 ships were together so their fleet wasn’t divided from their own, even if he lost sight of all the other fleets of the Greek army.
“The gods are angry! Gods please…please have mercy on me! I just…wanted to go home… I didn’t know… I didn’t want any of this to happen!”
He was lying to himself and he knew it. He was ready to pay the price. Truly he never expected how high it would be but deep down he knew that just his ploy with the horse was bound to cause some anger to the gods. He just hoped that Athena, who blessed his wits with inspiration, would somehow be by his side. However after the slaughter and the human sacrifice, he couldn’t hear her voice anymore. What was worse, the winds divided them and the southern wind brought the severe storm that pushed them towards the north instead of the Aegean islands as they originally planned, so that they could travel south. And the storm had caused not only damage to the ships, but also made them lose plenty of provisions. It was obvious that they were out for some failure or some sort of a misadventure because of those.
“Blasted Troy!” he thought again, “You stole 10 of my best years! You stole my son from me, my wife and my home and now you pushed me to the edge! You made me a criminal to the eyes of my goddess! Blasted Troy I hope your ashes will never revive again! May you and your holy walls never raise their heads again like it happened after Heracles!”
“Now where the hell are we?” he wondered out loud, shading his eyes with his hand to see afar
“I do not recognize these waters…” Eurylochus said apprehensively, joining them, “I see no land around”
“But I do, look!” Odysseus pointed out
Eurylochus squinted his eyes to see (Odysseus feared that he was becoming a bit near-sighted with age. He was actually surprised his own eyes remained sharp as always). Indeed there was a land formation coming up from before them.
“You’re right!” Eurylochus said excited, “Finally we get some land to stop! Inspect the damages”
Odysseus leaned against the hull in deep thought.
“Last night the skies were dark. I couldn’t use the stars for guidance but the last time we were in Troy we had southern wind. It didn’t seem to change drastically so we should be heading north”
“You think of the island of Tenedos?” Polites asked
“No, this seems longer coastline than that. From where I am standing, looks like the mainland.”
“Hold on, are you telling me we are heading to Thrace?” Eurylochus suddenly seemed worried
“Most likely” Odysseus agreed gloomily
“Dammit!” Eurylochus mumbled, “We are heading towards enemy land again, then?”
“Perhaps. Not all Thracian tribes sided with the Trojans at the war but, truth to be told, they did support the Amazon raid. They didn’t have a reason to stand against them”
“So, in short, we’re screwed?”
“Perhaps…” Odysseus mumbled again feeling nauseous once more, “Perhaps not”
“Either way, we have no choice” Polites stated the obvious; “We need to stop to land. Our provisions are not enough to support us till the islands the way we are and we will need to inspect the hulls and ropes”
“Yeah…” Odysseus agreed, “Elpenor, jump on the craw’s nest! Your younger eyes will be useful now! Tell me what you see!”
Elpenor immediately obeyed, climbing to the mast from the ropes. He might have been the youngest but also he did have some good geography knowledge. Odysseus appreciated that. He looked towards the horizon and soon enough he could detect taller walls around a city, no doubt, surrounded with mountains. He didn’t need to have knowledge to know what it was.
“ISMARUS!” He announced on top of his lungs, “ISMARUS!”
“Shit!” Eurylochus mumbled banging the hull of the ship
Odysseus had to agree. They didn’t know much on Ismarus apart from its strategic importance for the Thracians. However he also knew that the people in it were called Cicones, the tribe of people that was spread across Thrace but called Ismarus some sort of capital city for them. He also knew they didn’t like to share their wealth with outsiders and they had no reason to like the Greeks. Quite frankly, they preferred to guarantee a safe passage to the Amazons for Troy rather than sheltering the Greeks on their way there. Once more he gagged, for some reason, causing Polites to try and support him at the sudden move but this time it was certain there was nothing in his stomach to come out so he just sighed to collect himself.
“Damn…” he mumbled more to himself than anybody else, mopping some sweat off his forehead with his hand
“Do you need some wine?”
“No, thanks Polites. I am fine. This is just a….reminder. No worries”
The land of Thrace came in sight and so did the walls of Ismarus. Odysseus could see from afar that the walls were consisted on a rough stone base and clay and wooden upper parts. He rubbed his beard in thought. He could see the smokes of the chimneys too. He couldn’t see much from inside the city itself but he noticed some clay outlines of the houses and some hay roofs like an average coastline city. It was nothing like the strong structure of Troy that was for sure. The city was built almost directly on the beach, making the position really strategic for someone who wanted to connect themselves with the sea, however the back was protected from the winds by the rough Thracian mountains. In theory it was cutting the line of escape from the people who wanted to flee from an upcoming catastrophe of their city. He gasped at his thoughts.
“What in the blasted hells of Tartarus am I thinking?! We just got out of a slaughter of a city and all I can think of is what we can use if we need to raid this place! What’s wrong with me!?”
The war was still in his system, he knew. Sacker of Cities, that’s how they called him back in Troy. Apparently he was thinking like one all the time now. Apparently his men were reading his thoughts or they were having a similar train themselves for Polites came close to him, leaning his large body next to him to the ledge.
“What do you think, Odysseus? Shall we raid this city?”
Odysseus scoffed and forced a smirk to his face.
“You just got out of war, Polites and you already fear you are losing your touch?”
“I’m just saying” Polites shrugged
“Polites is right up to one point, Odysseus” Eurylochus agreed, “The Cicones have no reason to offer us anything and they are half-barbarians. Maybe they do not know the customs of hospitality”
“Don’t they worship Apollo as their patron god?” Odysseus pointed out
“Irrelevant” Eurylochus pointed out, “They didn’t help us at the war now did they? They guaranteed passage to the enemy”
“I mean, who wouldn’t be afraid of the Amazons, Eurylochus?”
Odysseus stretched himself, breathing in the air.
“Either way we need to stop and inspect the damages. I say we send an embassy and ask for Xenia before we do something.”
“They won’t give it”
“Irrelevant. We need to go by the traditions that separate us from the barbarians, Eurylochus. If they push us too hard, we will make this place burn!”
The words came to his mouth much easier than what he thought they would. Sacker of Cities then…what people in Troy chanted about him was true after all.
“Should we announce our presence then?” Eurylochus snickered
“Oh, I am sure they know we are here. They saw us coming from a mile away! Our crimson sails are not exactly a discreet sight and they have a clear view at the sea!”
As if on the cue there was a shine or sheen of metal coming from the wall. A watchman had moved. Odysseus knew they knew they were here. So far so good, he thought, we shall tie to the bay, go about our business like nothing happens and ask for a share. If that doesn’t happen then damned this city be! They indeed beached their ships and climbed down to inspect. To their good luck most of the parts of the ship were intact. Just a few repairs to the ropes and all would be done; all would be as good as new.
“Gear up, just in case” suddenly Odysseus ordered, “We have company”
A neighing horse was what got their attention, when they managed to catch a glimpse of a man riding like the wind towards the city. Great…Odysseus thought, the meeting would happen sooner than expected. He caught a glimpse of Eurylochus reaching for his hunting bow. He stopped him with his strong hand upon the wood.
“Easy there, Eurylochus!” he said strictly, “Hold your blood lust for now and wait for it. We are being announced”
“But…we are helpless!”
“We are over 500 men experienced in war with our equipment intact. We must not act like headless chicken. But prepare yourselves just in case. Shooting the man now, will bring warriors at our steps, not ambassadors”
Apparently he was right for after a few hours, while he and his men were eating some dried fruit and bread they had with them, they heard the horses once more but this time they were more than one. Odysseus eyed them and placed the helm over his brow. He nodded to Polites and Eurylochus to come closer and to one or two captains from the other ships. They approached the riders on foot. Odysseus noticed their colorful clothing and their tattooed bodies. His resolve that they would actually give them hospitality was not determined in the first place but now he was almost certain they wouldn’t.
“Hello there!” he greeted the entourage, “I hope I am speaking to an embassy of peace. We are travelers and we seek shelter”
The man on the horse didn’t come down. He only barked some words in his dialect, which Odysseus didn’t recognize to its totality.
“Look…given that we do not speak your language and I can possibly recognize one or two words here and there, I suggest you to bring us an interpreter if we are to talk openly here”
He didn’t know if that was what his tone was doing; maybe he was coming off as more aggressive as he wanted to, the man on the horse spat at his feet. Odysseus looked up at him.
“Great…” he mumbled ironically, “This negotiation will not get us far. I seek passage for myself and my men. In the name of Zeus and Xenia. We bring gifts to exchange. We desire only provisions and hospitality”
“I will give you gifts!” said the man in his heavy Thracian accent
“Ah, marvelous. So you DO speak our language” Odysseus said mockingly again, “We are making progress”
“Your banner I recognize!” the man said again in his broken Common Greek, “You raid Troy, that did you!”
Oh shit… Odysseus thought. Our reputation precedes us. The man seemed furious.
“Outsiders have no place here. More Greeks who raided Troy!”
Odysseus’s eyes darkened. It was as if just the mere mention of Troy was bringing all his blood to his head; making his pulse practically hammering inside his eardrum.
“I understand you despise us and our nation, that much is as apparent as the sun above, my dear friend. I wouldn’t make such preposterous offer unless it was of outmost importance and a matter of survival for me and my men. You protect your city and I protect them. Our interests should be aligned instead of colliding”
Odysseus realized that war was inside him. He knew the man was not fluent in Greek so he felt like using every official or long word he knew, hoping to confuse him, impress him or piss him off even further. He didn’t know which. Apparently happened the latter for the man spat at his feet once more, glaring daggers at them.
“You and your kin go!” the Cicones ambassador roared, “We give no shelter to traitors here!”
“Careful, my dear man” Odysseus now replied feeling his patience running short, “Zeus punishes those who disobey his law! And you speak to those who, as you said, stepped their feet into the holy castle of Troy! Your little town will not be that difficult to take, that much I guarantee you!”
“Leave this place!” the man replied
He stirred his horses and trotted away. Odysseus remained silent for a second. Yes, the insult was great to take, even if he deep down knew indeed they had no reason to like them in the first place.
“Captain” Eurylochus spoke again, “Shall we gather up the captains and negotiate our next move?”
A tiny essence of smirk played to the corner of his lips. He wasn’t sure if it was some weird eagerness and battle fever or whether it was just himself being sarcastic at his own attachment to that. Either way his eyes followed the trotting entourage of Thracians going back to their city.
“Sure…why not?” he heard himself whisper.
*
“The city doesn’t seem overly protected” one of the captains pointed out, “That could indicate protection from the inside. I am not sure if I would risk a confrontation at the walls”
“I double that” another one said watching at the rough sketch of the area they drew upon the sand, “Maybe we can lure them out at the field”
“Haven’t you seen them?” Eurylochus pointed out, “They don’t use carriages or chariots. They fight directly from the horses! Odysseus’s chariot was damaged into the storm but even if it was ready now it will be hard for it to navigate at the plain”
“Odysseus, how many people do you estimate the city to have?” one of the captains asked
“Hard to tell” the king of Ithaca admitted, “The city seems well-built but not too big. Worst case scenario it would be of around 4000 people”
“The odds would still be 4-1” Eurylochus pointed out, “We are not enough for it. The odds are not bad but they are not very good either”
“Indeed which is why I hope the most optimistic estimation is the correct one. Let’s say around 2000 people”
“But, Odysseus you count in women and children?” Polites asked
“Yeah that’s right. If we say they are around 2000 in there then logically half should be women and children”
“That leaves is around 1000 men and possibly a portion of them are warriors”
“That makes the odds 2-1” Eurylochus spoke again, “Sounds much better for us”
“Yes…if they remain within the walls…”
“We must send a scout team just in case, to see the weaknesses around it”
“Guys!” Polites now came in, “We are talking as if we shall begin the attack already!”
“Do you see another option, Polites?”
Odysseus hummed in thought.
“Well…in theory we could avoid the bloodshed if we took the course across the mainland or till we meet the islands…”
He made a move with his hand as if saying “maybe”
“How many provisions do we have?”
“Maybe for one week?” Polites suggested, “And that would be if we reduced our food to the minimum and hunted”
“In a Cicones forest?” Odysseus commented, “Right…”
“Perhaps fishing then?”
“That could work but it is not sustainable on the long run” Odysseus thought out loud, “We have also the slaves, the men and the horses to feed. In theory we could make it to another port before our provisions ran out but…”
“What guarantee do we have that we won’t run in the same problem?” Eurylochus pointed out
“Exactly. And besides…” once more that almost automatic smirk played to the edge of his lips, “The refusal of hospitality when someone makes plead to the gods has consequences. They know it! There is plenty of food there for sharing and we have things to return their hospitality with but…”
He hit his fist on the ground.
“Yes, I believe we must charge as soon as possible while the sword is flaming hot!”
“What are you planning?” Eurylochus asked again, “Surround the city?”
“It could work but we will run out of provisions before they do and we are cut off from the rest of the world here. I will not risk it all in a siege”
“And I refuse to spend another day waiting for cities to fall! I’ve had enough! Gods refuse to help us. We need to do something of the situation we got ourselves through. Our men are too many to feed. I cannot risk another open sea passage!”
He caught himself making excuses about it to himself; as if trying to justify the actions that he was already planning but in the end of the day perhaps it was true after all; he was the Sacker of Cities; a man of war. Perhaps that was what was left of him after the massacre…after all the atrocities he had to indoctrinate or perform in the holy city of Ilium. Athena was by his side back then; other gods were as well. He knew it was wrong what happened and yet the gods were with them. He didn’t understand why now…why now they refused to hear his prayers or rather he didn’t want to accept that the whole ploy would turn against the entire fleet and not just against him! He was afraid and worried; what if that indeed befell upon his family? What if the sin he prayed so much to Athena to protect his family from was to be fulfilled? What if Athena didn’t heed his desperate plea at Troy? Because Achilles wanted a concubine and because Calchas couldn’t keep his mouth shut!
“Agamemnon! Gods, Agamemnon now I understand you! This man predicted not a single good thing for us in his entire life! He made us both monsters who sacrifice virgins to the void! Cursed his name! Cursed his legacy!”
Polites smirked, unaware of the turmoil in his soul.
“That’s right! We have Odysseus with us! He took Troy in one night! I am sure this will be child’s play for him!”
“Why, thanks for the faith, Polites…” Odysseus said ironically, “I hope I will live up to your expectations!”
“You already have a plan?” Erilochus now pitched in, flabbergasted
“Perhaps…” Odysseus murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his beard, “I might have something but we need to organize ourselves quick”
“Yes sir!”
“And we kill no women and children!” Odysseus said, his eyes suddenly darkening
“Polyxena…Astyanax…Hecuba… No! No more women and children! Penelope… My sweet Telemachus…Ma… No, no more women and children!”
“Yes sir” the others agreed
“No rapes, no violations! Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir”
“As for the city…”
He stopped. His eyes were bottomless. His heartbeat was steady. The nausea of guilt had passed; suddenly giving his gut the weird sensation of the bloodlust he felt in battle when fighting for his life. However now it felt different.
“…Burn it down!”
“Yes! Let it burn! This and all the allies of Troy! Cursed city! If only it was never founded by the immortals! If only it never rose again from the hands of mighty Heracles! Yes, let them burn! All of them!”
“Yes sir!”
Odysseus filled a cup of wine. He took half a sip and raised it up.
“And let the blood of their men be upon their hands! So it was written, let it be done!”
He poured the rest down to the sand. The red liquid was almost immediately absorbed in the golden sand of the unfriendly land. It only left a red stain behind.
Like the blood that was shed in war.
~*~*~*~
Cicones were tribes of Thrace and Thracians were known for their great skill in riding horses among others. The exact location of Ismarus is not known although it is connected to some landscapes in Thrace.
So arguably one of the most controversial to the modern eye action that Odysseus did after he left from Troy was the conquest of the city of Cicones Ismarus. I am surprised I do not see more people talk about it!
In the Odyssey, Odysseus doesn't specify the reasonings behind the attack but it is left to be assumed that it was for piracy; so that they would plunder provisions for the safe passage. I tried to see how that would befall so I started the story with the general outline and then try to figure out how they would go.
Odysseus referring to the contempt and to Adromache or even to some events, it is a wink to my story Guilt Part2 The momet of madness of Hecuba are based on sources such as the tragedy Hecuba and other roman sources but also a wink to a fic that I had in mind for the far future, kinda like a light spoiler.
Like before as I mentioned to my gift story to @dionysism once more got inspired by the same composer Kostas Kapnisis for this one. Specifically for the scene where the Cicones spy runs to warn the city, I was inspired by the piece "Ξεσηκωμός" ("Rise Up"):
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Language or dialect barrier between Thracians and Odysseus was just another thing I thought I could add to make the story more believable. Also Odysseus being kinda an ass as well even if he is suffering deep down.
Usually I do depict his positive traits and sneak in his negative (for example in my story about their escape from Polyphemus). So now we have also a bit more negative traits with sneaking in some positive as well.
The Cicones being a potential ally of Troy or at least assisting them is purely my invention here in an essence that Thrace and places like Themyscyra (if that is among the Skythians) are close to each other geographically and potentially culturally too at some cases.
Odysseus mentions "more than 500 men" because undoubtedly they did suffer losses at Troy. Just the bare minimum they could (probably around 10% of them or around 80 men)
Part 2 might be coming back soon.
Sorry if I forget anyone.
A small mention to amazing people that honored me with comments, feedback or reblogs before:
@simugeuge @loco-bird @smokey07 @adrift-in-thyme @marieisnothere12 @dilutedh2so4 @freetyphoonglitter @tunguszka20 @ilov3b00kss0much @fangirlofallthefanthings @cr4zy-cycl0n3 @superkooku @shafeeyaart @hermesmoly @insomniphic @blueflipflops @venomspecs @theyugiohfanartistwritersblog
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imaginedisish · 21 days
Text
Dare (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say thank you for all the support I got this morning. All of your comments really warmed my heart. Thank you so, so, so much. I ended up getting this done pretty fast. Went with "Dare" by Gorillaz for the title. Made me feel better to write. I like this one. Hope you do, too. Enjoy!
Summary: Logan finds out you've never been eaten out while playing a game of "Truth or Dare," and he's more than willing to change that.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, softdom!Logan, pussydrunk!Logan (he does not let up, he is starving for you), older!Logan, implied aged gap (reader is in her 20s/old enough to teach at the institute), cocky!Logan, he is an absolute service dom in this, friends to lovers, mentions of mental health/self worth, fluff, some hurt to comfort, some angst, afab/fem!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 4,235 wowza didn't expect that and oh my god this gif
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You’re lying on your floor—the door to your room wide open. Everyone is out anyway. It’s Friday night at the mansion—no one will see you like this. Students’ papers are scattered around you. You stare up at the ceiling, feeling choked up. It had been a bad day—a bad week. Maybe even a bad year. You feel like you’re slipping, losing yourself. 
Teaching the older students had become beyond challenging—possibly because you aren’t much older than them in the first place. Most days, it felt like everyone expected greatness from you, given the strength of your powers, which naturally comes with responsibility, and that can be incredibly overwhelming. It had all been—if you were being brutally honest—an absolutely terrible time. 
So, you’re lying on your floor, feeling numb. You stopped grading papers at least an hour ago, and simply decided to stare at the ceiling, your head spinning. You wanted to calm the noise, to take a breather. Luckily, you’re alone—everyone is on a mission or out given that it’s Friday night. 
Or so you thought. 
“What on Earth are you doing?” A familiar voice cuts through the silence like a knife, jarring you, and forcing you to look up. And there he is, in a white t-shirt and denim jeans, arms crossed tightly against his chest, leaning in the doorway. Logan. You want to roll your eyes at how good he looks. You want to slap yourself for thinking it in the first place.
He smirks at you, his brows furrowed playfully. You let your head fall back to the floor. “Grading papers,” you mutter. You can hear his footsteps as he walks into the room, drawing closer to you. 
“Doesn’t look like you’re grading papers to me,” he teases. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Why aren’t you out with Jean or Rogue?” 
He stands next to you, and you look up at him. “Didn’t feel like it,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit up. You draw your knees into your chest. You decide to turn the question around on him. “Why aren’t you out?”
He sits down next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him, his shoulder bumping against yours as he settles in. He shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you, right?” He jokes, nudging his elbow into your arm. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. It’s impossible to fight it when he’s next to you. Your eyes meet his, and his smile quickly turns into something else—concern. “You’ve been off lately.”
You swallow harshly. “Did Jean or Rogue say something?” You ask. They’d notice, maybe they told Logan. “Did they ask you to stay with me or something?”
But Logan shakes his head. “No. I could just tell,” he says, worry clear in his voice. “Thought I’d hang back with you. All my idea.” He tilts his head, his jaw working, his brows furrowing again. “Is something going on?” 
You take a deep breath, turning away from him. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by his presence, by his kindness and his care. He stayed home for you. “I’m okay,” you mutter, avoiding the truth. 
“Hey,” Logan whispers, tentatively reaching his hand to your knee, waiting for you to shove him away. His palm is warm against your skin, calming and stabilizing. You turn back to look at him, his brows raised incredulously. “I know that’s not true,” he says. He has always been able to read you like a book. “What’s going on?”
You swallow harshly. “I’ve just been having a tough time lately,” you say, distracted by the way his thumb brushes across your knee. “I…” You trail off, letting your eyes fall closed. “Things are hard.”
“You can talk about it if you want,” he says, his voice deep and steady. “I’m here.” 
You sniffle, struggling to keep yourself in check. “I just…” you pause, looking off to the side. “Everything sucks.” You take another deep breath. “And the students are so hard.” You point to the piles of papers scattered around your floor. “And then there’s me, and all my shit. My powers. The responsibilities we have. I’m young, and I’m still learning. And fuck, Logan, this all just feels so impossible sometimes. It…it…” You trail off, finally running out of words, out of steam.
“It hurts.” He finishes your sentence, taking the words right out of your mouth. You turn back towards him, your eyes instantly meeting his. “It hurts a lot.”
You nod. “Yeah, exactly.” He squeezes your knee comfortingly. “You get it,” you murmur. 
“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothes, his hand lifting off your knee, his arm wrapping around your shoulder instead. “I’ve got you.” You let yourself lean into his touch, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Let’s take your mind off things, yeah?”
You nod against him, not wanting to move away, not wanting to separate from him. He feels so nice, so solid. “What did you have in mind?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t involve getting up.
“Wanna play a game?” He offers, turning his head to look down at you. You smile widely, almost mockingly. “What?” He chides. “You think I don’t know how to have fun?”
You laugh softly. “I just don’t see you as a game guy, Lo,” you confess. He chuckles, and you can feel his laughter reverberating through his chest. “Can you even think of one to play?”
Logan’s still laughing, shaking his head. “What about truth or dare?” He ever so slightly pulls you in closer, his lips pressed against the side of your head. 
You giggle, feeling light for the first time in a long time. “Are we in seventh grade?” You ask teasingly. You felt like a teenager, honestly—being next to Logan always made you feel like a love-sick schoolgirl. But you know you and him could never be. You were younger than Logan—everyone was—but you, being in your 20s, assume that Logan doesn’t see you the way you see him. 
He just shakes his head and laughs, pulling you back to reality. “Truth or dare?” He asks, ignoring your middle school comment and officially starting the game. 
You don’t want to get up, don’t want to move an inch, so you answer: “Truth,” hoping it isn’t anything too crazy. 
Logan thinks for a second, his head resting on yours. “Why’d you pick truth instead of dare?” He finally asks. 
You roll your eyes. “Boring!” You tease. “I only picked it because I don’t feel like moving.” And then you realize…perhaps your answer is more revealing than you previously considered. Your heart thunders in your chest. 
Logan hums. “And why don’t you want to move, exactly?” He’s onto you. 
“You asked your question, you got an answer,” you protest, trying to shut him down. “No follow-up questions.” It’s your turn now. “Truth or dare?” You ask. 
“Truth,” he says. “Because maybe I don’t feel like moving either.”
You smile, and you can feel him looking down at you. You’re too nervous to meet his gaze. You think for a moment, racking your brain for a question. “Did you really stay home for me, and was it all your own idea?” You finally ask. You regret the question almost immediately, fearful of the honest answer. 
“Yes,” he responds without a beat. “Jean said you were staying in, and said she didn’t know why, so I stayed too.” He pauses, and you can hear his steady breathing amidst the silence. “I was worried, princess.” The pet name burns a hole through your heart. “Needed to know that you were okay.”
You can feel tears building behind your sinuses. “Thank you, Lo,” you whisper. “That means a lot.”
He presses the ghost of a kiss to the crown of your head—almost not quite there. But you can feel it, hesitant and tentative. “It’s nothing, no need to thank me.” You finally find the courage to look up at him and find him smiling down at you. His lips part. “Truth or dare?” He asks again. 
You can feel some sort of tension brewing, building, thick and heavy. You try to ignore it, try to brush it off. Your heart hammers in your chest. “Truth,” you pick again. “But get a little more creative this time.”
He pauses, the gears in his head turning. And then finally: “Why’s your heart beating so fast? It’s loud, too.” 
Your eyes widen, suddenly remembering Logan’s heightened senses. He can hear everything. “Uh…” You trail off, not sure how to get out of this. “I-It’s not…”
He laughs. “You’re a terrible liar. You know that?” His voice is deep and honeyed, smooth. “You gotta answer the question, or I get to ask another.”
“Those are not the rules!” You protest, lifting your head to look at him. He’s got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that makes your stomach drop. 
He tugs you into his chest again, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Then answer the question,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. He’s so close. Too close. Your heart is only beating faster, louder now. 
“I don’t know,” you whisper. But of course, you know. It’s all because of him. “Just anxious, I guess.” It’s a half-truth—you’re certainly nervous, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him why. 
“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” Logan coos, his thumb brushing circles into your shoulder. “It’s just me.”
Yes, exactly, you want to say. It’s you. But you don’t. You try to steady your breathing, try to calm down. “My turn,” you force yourself to say. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he says darkly. “And make it good.” You can hear the cockiness in his voice—a sudden shift in his tone. 
“We should just call this truth or truth,” you say, mulling over a question in your mind. It’s hard to think with him this close—hard to breathe. You want to rile him up, to find out what makes him tick—to make him itch the way he makes you. And then it hits you: the perfect question. “When was the last time you…” You stop yourself, suddenly too nervous to ask. 
“When was the last time I what, darlin’?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. 
You huff. You’ve fallen into your own trap. There’s no backing out now. “When was the last time…” You pause again, biting your lip. You close your eyes. “…somebody got you off?” 
“Been a while,” he says simply. Your eyes flutter open, and Logan is completely relaxed, his eyes trained on you. He isn’t annoyed. He’s unbothered, unprovoked, as if you had asked him what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. “But it depends on how you mean. So, what do you mean?” He finishes. 
You’re slightly frustrated by how easy it was for him to answer. “I don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders. “Whatever the last time was.”
“Few years back, not particularly proud of it,” he huffs. “Girl took care of me in a bar. That was it.” 
You nod. “Must’ve been nice,” you whisper, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. You catch his drift; you know it didn’t mean anything. You likely didn’t know Logan at that time, having only arrived at the Institute two years ago. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous, shouldn’t care that he was ever with someone else, even for a fleeting moment. You’ve had boyfriends. You’ve been with other people.��
“It was fine. Just a blowjob.” He says it nonchalantly. “Didn’t mean a thing.” You look straight ahead, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t. “Truth or dare?” He finally asks. 
“Truth.” Your fake, plastered-on smile becomes real when his eyes meet yours. It’s just what happens when you look at him. “And make it interesting.”
The corner of his mouth turns up slyly, and you know he has something up his sleeve. “When was the last time somebody did that to you?” He asks. 
You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?” But you already know exactly what he’s asking. And you desperately do not want to give him the answer.
“Got you off, like that,” he husks. “With their mouth.”
Fuck. “Uh…” You trail off. You can feel heat spreading across your chest and up your neck, your skin prickling. “Never,” you say honestly. 
“What?” Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “Never?”
You’re suddenly embarrassed. Your skin feels tight—so do your shorts and tank top. “Never,” you repeat, looking down at your knees, still pulled in tightly to your chest. Your heart beats rapidly. “Just hasn’t happened yet,” you choke out. “I’ve been with people, but…”
“Hey,” he whispers, suddenly grabbing your chin and angling you up to face him. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, princess.”
You smile shyly, reveling in his touch. “You didn’t,” you insist honestly. “Just a little embarrassed.”
Logan shakes his head, his eyes softening. “Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assures. “You deserve to be taken care of.” His hand slides across your jaw and cups the back of your neck. “Deserve to feel good.”
Your eyes flutter closed at his touch. “Lo,” you whisper, struggling to keep your composure. Heat pools between your thighs. “Tr-truth or dare.”
His forehead presses to yours. “I think we’re done with the game, pretty girl,” he rasps, the arm around your shoulder slipping down to your waist. “Unless I get to give you a dare this time.”
“What’s the dare?” You ask, your eyes fluttering back open. His lips are so close. Your noses touch softly.
He works his jaw, licking his lips. “Let me eat you out, pretty girl,” he pants, his chest heaving against yours. “Let me take care of you like you should’ve been already.” He hates the idea that you’ve never been touched properly, the idea that those younger guys didn’t know how to treat you right. But he can fix that. He can make you feel good.
“Fuck,” you curse, his breath fanning across your lips. “A-are you sure?” You ask. “I don’t want you to do it just because you feel bad for me or—” “You think that’s what this is about?” He cuts you off, pulling you closer so that your body faces his, your thighs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “You think I want this just because I feel bad for you?”
“Well…” You search his eyes. “Yes,” you say. 
Logan’s face falls, and he shakes his head. “I want you, pretty girl,” he pants, his knee rubbing against your aching core. “Wanted you this whole time.” His palm presses firmly against your back, his other hand gripping your neck tighter. He wants, no, needs you closer. “You ruined me the second I saw you. Haven’t been with anyone since then.”
“Logan,” you whisper, bringing your hands up to his neck. “I want you too. Always have,” you confess.
He smiles, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to yours. “Then let me do this for you,” he rasps, almost begging, like he needs this more than you do. “Need to make you feel good, beautiful.” “Please,” you breathe. “Want you so bad, Lo.”
He curses under his breath, his lips capturing yours, harder this time. This kiss is starving, all-consuming. His tongue swipes across your lower lip, and you open your mouth, inviting him inside. He lowers you down carefully, sure not to break the kiss, guiding your back to the wood floor below. 
His thighs rest on either side of your hips as he hovers over you, bracing himself with his forearm. His free hand trails up your body, exploring your curves, hiking your shirt above your breasts. He smirks against your lips at the realization that you have no bra on. 
“Look at you,” he mumbles, rolling a nipple under his thumb, palming your breast. “Fucking perfect.” His fingertips drag to the other side, massaging you gently, taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pinching softly. “Can smell you, you know,” he grunts. “Know you’re soaking for me, darlin’.”
His hand slides between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach, until his fingertips bump into the waistband of your panties. He hesitates, looking down at you, waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him to stop. “Please,” you beg. “Need you, Lo.”
Logan smirks, his hand slipping under the hem of your shorts and inside your panties. “Love it when you call me that, sweetheart,” he groans. His fingertips flick your clit gently before finding your folds, feeling your arousal. “Barely even touched you,” he tuts. “And she’s already crying for me.”
He prods your entrance, spreading your slick, teasing you. He bites your lips, sucking so hard he might bruise—might draw blood—and you hope he does. You want proof that he was here, proof that he wants you—needs you this badly. You moan as his fingers find your clit again, drawing a few soft circles before pulling away, his hand slipping out of your shorts. 
You grab his biceps needily, impatiently, your nails digging into his skin. “Don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please, Logan.” 
He swallows your moans with another kiss, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck—that sensitive spot just under your ear. “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he soothes, biting down on your pulse point, licking the hollow of your throat. “Don’t think I could stop if I tried.” He nips at your collarbone, shoving your tank top further up your chest as his lips drag down the valley of your breasts. 
He kisses his way to your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your legs. His palms spread across your inner thighs, yanking them apart. He settles between them, his face just inches from your heat. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, still all too clothed, hidden behind your panties. 
“Lo,” you whine. He breathes you in, pressing another kiss to your clit. He digs his fingers into the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. 
“Wanna take my time with you, sweetheart,” he grunts, finally throwing your panties to the side. He spreads your legs wider, his face settling back between your thighs. You can feel his breath against your cunt, warm and teasing. “Wanna take care of you.” His lips finally find your clit again, and he licks at you. 
His tongue is soft, warm, wet. He laps at you again, harder this time, and you moan his name. “Fuck,” you curse as he licks a long stripe through your folds and back up to your clit, flicking the bud. Your legs twitch, your hips backing away involuntarily at the newfound pleasure. Logan’s hands slide under your ass, yanking you back to his face. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” He mumbles teasingly against you, the vibration of his deep, bassy voice rocking your core. “Not letting you go until I’m done with you, darlin’.”
You curse under your breath as he licks another long, slow stripe through your folds before settling on your clit. His tongue draws gentle circles around the bud, and you can’t hold back the loud moan that falls from your lips. 
“Yeah?” Logan husks between laps. “Feels good, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes,” you stammer, looking down at Logan, his face buried against your cunt. His eyes are trained on yours, watching your every move, taking in the way you’re squirming for him. “D-didn’t know it would feel this good, Lo.”
“Gonna try something, okay?” He says, his eyes searching yours. You nod emphatically, bracing yourself. His lips wrap around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the bud as he pulls it into his mouth. And then he sucks, hard. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your back arching off the floor.
He releases the bud, and does it again, sucking harder this time. Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Logan!” You cry out, your nails digging into the floor below, searching for purchase. “Fuck!” He laps at you soothingly, drawing tighter, faster circles around your clit. 
“You okay?” He coos between laps, his tongue swirling rapidly. 
You swallow, meeting his gaze again. The sight of him between your legs, working your clit, his hair a disheveled mess—it’s overwhelming. “Yeah,” you heave. “More than okay.”
He smirks against you and wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking on the bud like hard candy. His right hand slides out from under your ass, trailing up your inner thigh. Your heart thunders in your chest as his fingertips find your folds, spreading your slick, your walls clenching down around nothing. 
“Know you need ‘em, pretty girl,” Logan croons, two fingers nudging your entrance. “Beg for it.”
But he’s sucking on your clit again, making it impossible to say a word. You whimper, your legs trembling. “P-please,” you stutter, choking on air. “Need…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed. You swallow harshly. “Need your fingers, Lo,” you finally manage. 
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, shoving two fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. 
“Fuck, thank you,” you whine, moaning his name as his fingers stretch you out. You suddenly feel so full, so warm, so close. He pulls out, only to plunge back in, deeper this time. He’s lapping at you with reckless abandon—a man starved, like you’re the air he needs to breathe. Your walls flutter around him, the liquid heat in your lower belly threatening to burst. 
“Tastes so good,” Logan mumbles against you, his long, thick fingers thrusting in and out. He hits that sweet spot deep inside you with every pump. “Such a sweet little pussy. Tastes better than I imagined.” You’re crumbling underneath him. His words alone might push you over the edge. “Nothing compares to you, you know that?”
Your walls flutter again, his fingers sinking deeper inside you. “You like that?” Logan husks. “Like knowing how much I want you? How much I need you?”
“Yes,” you groan, his fingers fucking into you, faster now. His teeth graze your clit as he pulls the bud back into his mouth and sucks roughly. “N-need you, too. Always.” 
“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, scissoring inside you, dragging along your walls. He laps at you, his tongue stroking your clit. “Not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”
You curse under your breath. You can feel yourself melting, your walls contracting and releasing. “Lo,” you call. “I’m so close. Wanna…” You trail off, unable to finish. 
“Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back. Let it happen,” he coaches, rocking into you. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you come on my fingers.” He laps at you between sentences. “Come for me. Know you can do it.” And then everything is white-hot and blazing.
It’s earth-shattering—better than anything has ever felt before. The tension snaps, heat boiling under your skin. Everything is blurry, hazy, dizzied as you let go, and let go hard. You cry out Logan’s name, your thighs shaking as waves of pleasure drag you under. Your bones are burning, scorching. Everything is on fire—overwhelming and greedily all-consuming. 
Logan’s pumps slow, and he carefully pulls out of you. He laves at you, his tongue pushing through your folds, milking you dry, savoring every last drop. 
“Logan,” you whisper, your hands reaching down to his head, digging your fingers into his scalp. 
He hums against you, unwavering as his tongue laps at your folds, tasting your release. 
You’re still shaking, still coming down from your high. “Logan,” you call again, and he looks up this time, lifting his face from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, and he licks his lips clean of you. His eyes are dark, his palms squeezing your thighs possessively. 
“I’m not done yet, sweetheart,” he says, demand clear in his voice. 
Your heart flutters in your chest as he climbs up your body, hovering over you again. His lips find yours. “You taste that?” He mumbles, kissing you again, harder this time. “You taste how sweet you are?”
“Y-yes,” you answer, his hand sliding down your body, slipping between your legs, finding your overstimulated clit. 
He pinches the bud lightly, your back arching off the ground, your breasts pressing to his all-too-clothed chest. “Need more of you,” he husks, his hand dragging back up your body. He sits up and pulls you into his chest, taking all your weight as he hoists you up and stands. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist. 
He places you in the center of your bed before striding across the room, closing and locking your bedroom door. “They’ll all be home soon,” Logan says, walking back towards you, spreading your legs and settling between your thighs. “Might have to be quiet for me, darlin’.”
“W-what do you—”
And then his face is buried deep inside your cunt, his tongue lapping desperately at your clit. “I told you,” he rasps. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
tags: @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour
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niennanir · 1 year
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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tourturestarradio · 2 months
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘
“𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.”
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Prompt: Wolverine x kind reader x Deadpool 
Warnings: suggestive, sexual jokes, spoilers (kinda? after the time stuff) injuries, 
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
You couldn’t remember the last time you talked with Wade, it’d been a while. Longer than normal. He’d come into your shop asking for sweets all the time it was nice talking to him he was pretty funny.
You met him after he basically saved you from a creep trying to attack you. After that he’d visit you at work getting a discount for saving you, you grown to like him a lot but it took a while for you to get out of your comfort zone.
With his very vulgar language, very….out there personality you grew close with him, Wade telling his friends about you any chance he got which lead to him introducing you to his friends making you insanely nervous.
The interaction was odd for them not you. There stared at you “…you’re Y/n?” A teenager with a long name asked, you nodded happily a friendly smile on your face. They glanced at you then at Wade then back at you “…if you were forced to be here blink twice” 
You chuckled nervously but they seemed to be dead serious “I’m here on my own will, I promise” you clarified, Wade wrapped his arms around your shoulder “you think I forced her to be my friend! You hurt me” you glanced at him “will you kinda did-“ “alright let’s go meet Colossus!” He dragged you away from the moody teenager to continue to interact with his friends.
You thought back on the memory pouting missing your friend. You finished cleaning up your cafe about to leave when there was knock at the glass door, turning to look at it you saw a person standing their it looked like an older man.
You placed your bag down you grabbed your “baby knife” Wade gifted you, you didn’t like  violence but after what happened last time you stayed out too late  you slid it up your sleeve slowly unlocking and opening the door “hello do you need some help?” You asked.
The older man stumbled nodding “f-food please…” he almost fell onto you but you caught him “uh…um…okay just…just sit down please” you hummed carefully helping him sit down. 
You went to get treats that no one had bought, usually you’d give that to Wade but he wasn’t here so you’d give it to the old man. 
You turned to hand him the bag but he was standing up straight “um are you alright….sir?” Gripping onto the knife tighter you stepped closer to him, he chuckled lowly “to nice for your own good.” Before you knew it he jumped towards you. 
You screamed in surprise pulling out your knife you stabbed him “ahh you bitch!” He fell back clutching him chest “I-I’m sorry!” You didn’t know what to do you felt bad for stabbing him but he was going to attack you.
He pulled the knife out standing up, bad choice you gulped knowing the outcome of this situation.
That night you went home with plenty of injuries and no money. Great. You had unlocked your front door going inside you flicked on the light “surprise! Welcome home honey bun-“ he froze in his spot.
He’d waited to surprise you when you got home. He thought you’d be in-static to see he was home from his thrilling mission and was going to tell you all about it but he was shocked to see you with a busted lip, black eye and bruises covering your face and arms. 
“Oh my god what fuck!” He hurried up to you grabbing your shoulders “Wade nice to see you” you greeted, he was panicked but didn’t want to show it “how exactly can you see me? Looks like someone had a run in with Chris Brown, what happened” he joked.
You let out a dry chuckle “some jerk…I thought he needed…I thought he needed help but he was just trying to rob me. And he took my baby knife” Wade gasped “not the baby knife!” 
As you went to get in the shower Wade clenched his fists “Honey bun I’ll be right back to tell you all about my adventure and the new friends I made!” He shouted into the bathroom earning a “alright” from you. 
Leaving your house he went into his apartment slamming open his door gaining a odd look from the rest of the group. 
Logan raised a brow “what’s your deal?” Wade grabbed his swords and guns “some tiny dick loser attacked my friend” Logan stared at him with his usual annoyed face “so?” Wade stopped at the door looking back “so? That girl is one of if not the nicest and hottest person on the planet and some dickwad attacked her!” He turned and left the apartment slamming the door. 
“Who’s he talking about?” He asked Colossus got up “one of his close friends Y/n, she’s very important to him” he stated Logan was just confused but didn’t really care.
After a few hours Wade had returned dropping his weapons down at the floor “handled that, I feel so much better” he hummed, Logan glanced at him “you killed the guy didn’t you?” He asked. Wade smiled “yeah duh if you knew Honey hun like I knew her you’d do the same, well actually!” An idea popped into his head.
“Whatever your thinking. Don’t think it.” Wade laughed “oh come on you’ll love her! Not as much as the reader loves us but still” Logan looked at him confused “what?” “Oh come on peanut!” 
“If I go will you shut the fuck up?” Wade smiled leaving the apartment “no promises!” Logan rolled his eyes and followed. 
Wade knocked on the door “Honey bun! I’m back and I’ve brought a friend!” He continued to knock until the door opened revealing you now patched up and holding a ice pack up to your eye.
“Oh hi Wade, hello Wade’s friend” You smiled politely moving out of the way to let Wade and his friend in “I’m not his friend.” You shut the door “oh well what’s your name? I’m Y/n nice…nice to meet you” you greeted.
He stared down at you, he wasn’t to fond of physical contact and if he was touching someone it was usually stabbing punching slicing. But he grabbed your hand shaking it before letting go quickly “Logan.” He stated, You smiled at him “nice to meet you Logan- wait like Wolverine Logan!” You wanted to scream.
Wade watched as you hurried to your room, “she was a big fan of the X men Wolverine was her favorite you’d be surprised at the amount of edits she and probably the reader has saved on Tik tok” 
Logan looked at Wade confused “you wouldn’t get it, I never had the guts to tell her he died. I mean look at her” you hurried out of your room holding an X men comic “if…if you don’t mind could you sign this…please…” you gulped nervously.
Wade leaned over “come on, look how excited she is, kinda like how I was seeing her naked for the first time” Logan scoffed “shut it. Look I’m not that Wolverine…” he huffed, that look of excitement faded from your face almost made him a little sad.
“Oh…wait I’m confused…” Wade held your shoulders “time to tell you all about my adventure!” He pushed you over to your couch.
After telling you about everything that happened you sat with a frown “so the Wolverine from our world is gone…” Wade nodded “yep but yaknow Hugh jackmen just couldn’t get enough of this roll so now he’s alive again.” 
You glanced at Logan “so you’re still Wolverine…just from a different world…?” He nodded “that’s still so cool!” You stated excitedly, Logan looked at you a little surprised by how enthusiastic you were.
But he knew how this would turn out, he’s not gonna engage. You seemed like a sweet girl but he knows how this goes so he wasn’t going to even try. 
“Yeah I’m not all that great.” He huffed, you lightly nudged him a playful tone “well you still saved the world, and you’re still cool to me” you hummed, Wade’s smile widened “Honey bun” he called out, you looked at him “you got any cookies?” You nodded “sure I’ll go get some.” 
You got up leaving the two “see what did I tell you, she’s amazing!” Logan rolled his eyes “fuck off” he grumbled, Wade laughed “ha! You know I’m right! She’s perfect in literally every way!” Logan huffed crossing his arms. 
You came back holding a plate of cookies Wade pulled you down onto his lap grabbing a cookie shoving it into his mouth. 
You gulped “so um…can I….can I see your claws?” You asked nervously shuffling Wade held you still “no shuffling too much I haven’t got some in a while and the head downstairs misses you” you ignored his comment an stayed focused on Logan.
He held up his hand you lightly touched in between his knuckles feeling his claws under his skin “cool…” you muttered. He wouldn’t tell you but your reactions were somewhat cute. 
He clenched his fist his claws coming out a cheesy grin grew on your face as you hit Wades arm “look, look” a small laugh exiting your mouth “trust me babe I’ve seen them and felt them inside me multiple times” Logan glared at him “don’t word it like that.” 
Wade shoved another cookie in his mouth “don’t deny what we had!” You touched his blades “cool” he retracted them “well at least I can die happy” you joked.
Wade wrapped his arms around you squeezing you tightly “I won’t let that happen!” 
Logan looked at you and how nice you were, maybe you weren’t so bad after all…
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
A/n: I fucking loved Deadpool 3!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHH
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bunny584 · 8 months
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OBSESSED: NANAMI
A/N: So sorry this is getting reposted. Tumblr got glitch-y and it went away. Hopefully the second read around is just as enjoyable!!
C/W: Breeding, Mature. 18+
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“You’d make such a beautiful mother.”
Nanami comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist. He travels up your torso to cup your tender, swollen mounds spilling over his favorite tank top.
“Ken,” you whine and wince back into him.
You’re so focused on chopping vegetables, you let him grope you. No use fighting it. If you slapped his hands away they’d be back in less than a second. Magnets to your perfect frame.
You’re ovulating.
He knows it like clock work.
You become docile. With puffy, tender breasts. And so emotional. Tears flow at a harsh breeze, much less anything else. Forgetful. Flustered. You hang off of him like perfectly cooked Lamb off a bone.
You’re ovulating. His cock is hard nearly 24 hours a day when you’re supple like this.
“Oh goddamit,” the knife comes down, loud and shrill on the marble island.
Nanami bites back a grin, he knows whatever it is is inconsequential.
“What is it, my love?” His hands trail down to your stomach. Cock beating against his thigh thinking about how pretty it’ll look swollen with his seed.
You dive your face into your hands. Crystal tears flowing from your eyes through the slim spaces of your elegant fingers. Sparkling against the Diamond engagement ring. He pulls you in tighter, unashamed of his erection now digging into your back.
“I-I forgot, I forgot the stupid basil at the store and now dinner is ruined.” More sobs. You melt back into his arms. Absolutely devastated.
“Ahhh, yes. So ruined.” His gentle teasing opens the flood gates.
The Pacific Ocean flows out of you and he’s even more fond. More turned on.
“Ken!” You scold him, turn around and dive into the crook of his neck. All in one fair motion.
“I was trying to be a good fiancé. I wanted to make this perfect. And I can’t even I can’t —“
“Shhh.” Nanami lifts you onto him. You wrap your legs around his waist. Drenching his work shirt in diamond tears.
His back hits the couch, and you’ve calmed to just baby sniffles with his constant rubbing.
“Let me take care of it.” He rasps out. Not even trying to hide his strain. You nod and bring the back of your hand to your puffy eyes.
And this is why he wants to fill you with his cum. Keep you pregnant. Soft, open. Tender hearted. Your kids would be born from the purest love.
It’s a daydream that exists on cinematic repeat in his mind. How he could change the shape of your beautiful body. Round your hips. Swell your feminine torso. Fill your breasts with nourishment for the little one you create together. It makes his cock leak and twitch and lead pipe hard. At work. At the gym. While eating. When you’re like this. Like this. He feels like an animal. Insatiable. You bring out the most primal parts of him. To provide. Protect.
Procreate.
He dreams about you staying at home, nurturing your little family. Coming home to you nourishing the baby with your gorgeous, plump…
God.
He’d drop his pants and push his cock past your pretty lips at the same time. Feed you while you’re feeding the love child he put in you.
Your sugary, soft gasp tethers him to reality. Eyes fixed on his restrained dick, begging for release.
“Kento, you’re so…” your dulcet voice trails off and you palm his length through his pants.
Nanami hisses. Unashamed of the growing stain of his precum seeping through his khaki work slacks. Not the first time.
“Let me make you a mother, baby.” His voice grazes the shell of your ear and you shudder into him.
“Ken.”
So “stern” but you keep petting his dick in the way that drives him insane. “We can’t because I think I—“
“You’re ovulating.” He finishes your thought with a buck of his hips into your hand. Greedy for more touch. More warmth.
Fine, fine. You’ve already compromised with him to stop taking the birth control and track naturally. He won’t push it. Watching how your hormones ebb and flow within your body is a privilege, so he won’t push.
For now.
“Let’s get takeout, baby.”
(PART II)
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cherryc1nnam0n · 11 months
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You entered the wrong house, pretty boy! | Ghostface!Ethan Landry x FEM!Reader
Based on this poll I did, we have this masterpiece
Summary: Ethan made a big mistake by entering your house, a Ghostface fan
Cw: Dub con, P in V sex, unprotected, creampie, he resists at first but then gives in, virgin!Ethan, Ghostface!Ethan, mask kink, riding, mirror sex, recording while having sex, multiple orgasms, excessive cum, overstimulation, spit, knife mentions, rough sex, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), ball play
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It was late at night, almost 1 am and you were still awake, sitting on your bed reading a book, when something coming from your living room startled you
"What the?" You said getting up to go investigate, a sandal on your hand, pure instinct
When you reached the place where the noise had come from you saw nothing, just your cat licking her paw
"Callie, you scared me" you whisper yelled at her and she blinked slowly at you "Awe"
You turned around and where met with a masked figure, he tilted his head and pulled out his knife
"Why you up so late?" He asked in a weird voice
"I-I" he started to walk and corned you against a wall, placing the knife against your throat, which made you moan
"What?" He asked genuinely concerned
"Oh what you thought I would be scared?" You said defiantly and he just stood there "Baby, this is having the reaction you least expect" you said squeezing your thighs
He looked down and breathed heavily, where you aroused by this? Where the hell is he?
"Wait, aren't you Britney?" You shook your head "Oh shit, my bad I-"
"What? You were supposed to be in someone else's house?" He nodded, feeling like an idiot "Awwwe, it's okay baby, I'll take good care of you" you said begining to walk into him
"W-wait, hold on, lemme just-" he tripped against your coffee table falling backwards, he tried crawling to the door but you grabbed his foot and began dragging him to your room "Hold on wait! No!"
"Oh you're not going anywhere baby, you entered the wrong house, pretty boy!"
He screamed while you dragged him away into your room, finally inside you ran to close the door and lock it, he backed away from you and you looked at him with hungry eyes
"This has been my fantasy for so long" you licked your lips, scanning him
He was tall, broad even, but you didn't really care about who he was, you just wanted him to fuck you, or you to fuck him
"What is wrong with you?" He asked concerned
"Many things" you said taking your shirt off, boobs falling off freely "Now give me your cock"
He screamed again and you tackled him into the bed, hurrying to lift off his robe so you could free his cock, under it there were pajama pants, so cute, you easily found his mid hard cock, maybe from when he saw your tits
"It's big, I'm gonna have fun with it" you said smacking his dick against your face, he breathed heavily as he saw you play with his cock
You started to suck his dick, it was uncut so you pulled the skin back to suckled his head, he began to moan and grabbed the sheets, bucking his hips up into your mouth, your other hand freed his balls so you could play with them, his breath hitched and he started whining
"Please, please" he said under the mask, you could hear his breath heavy
Your mouth went down to suck his right ball into your mouth, looking up at him while you did so, his head fell back as he finally came all over himself and your face, he came a lot so you just kept pumping him dry for it
"Fuck, stop stop too much, ahh"
You finally released his cock with a pop, licking your lips clean from his cum
"You taste good baby"
You climbed on top of him, removing your pajama shorts and sitting completely naked on top of him, you grinded onto his dick making him whine again, he really liked to do that huh?
"You're a whiney man, you really that desperate?" He nodded
"I'm a virgin" he said lowly and you chuckled
"I can tell" you said to his ear
You grabbed his cock and guided it onto your entrance, sinking down making him hiss and whine, cursing under his breath
"Feels good right?"
He nodded desperately, his hands finding your hips, squeezing so hard he would leave marks
You started bouncing on him, his eyes rolling back behind his head, you bit your lip throwing your head back, your hips moving sexily on top of him, his masked figure was turning you on so much but you were curious of who he was, so taking advantage of him being in pure bliss, you lifted his mask until you took it off entirely, revealing none other than your crush Ethan Landry
"Ethan? I knew you were weird but a killer? And Ghostface? Wow"
"Fuck, don't tell anybody"
"Or what? You gonna kill me? Don't think so" you clenched around him purposely "If you don't kill me, you can fuck me whenever you want"
"I-I, fuck, you feel so good" his eyes rolled back
You kept going faster on him until you felt the familiar tingling of an orgasm, his hand was rubbing your clit while you held onto his thighs so you could roll your hips against him, the tatch of hair at his base rubbing against your clit deliciously
"I'm cumming, gonna cum fuck!" You said orgasming on top of him
He held your hips and thrusted up into you, your tits bouncing as he did so, finally releasing inside you with a loud whine
He fell limp on your bed, his breath erratic as he kept jerking from cumming, he took like 2 minutes to finish cumming
"Wow..." Was all you could say after that
His dick fell off your pussy when he grew soft again, his cum flooding out of you, coating his base and his thighs, running down his ass, his breath hitched when he felt that
"What? You done pretty boy? I thought you could take more than that"
He looked at you, then took a deep breath and sat up, kissing you deeply, his tongue shoving into your mouth, his hand held the back of your neck and while his other grabbed your ass cheek
"I have an idea"
Now in front of your mirror you held your phone up while your chest was against your carpet, your ass jiggling with every thrust Ethan gave you, his hands holding onto your hips, you were recording the whole thing from a beautiful angle that showed hos good he was fucking you, his mask was back on his face, he tilted it as he looked into the mirror, enjoying the view
"Fuck, you like that pretty girl? Like being fucked by a murderer?" You moaned at him "Answer me, bitch!" His voice changer was on as he said that
His left hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back, you moaned from it, eyes rolling back
"Yes I fucking love it, don't stop"
"Good girl"
The skin slapping noises were so loud you thought you would wake up your neighbors, but you couldn't care much because of how good Ethan was making you feel
He reached for his mask and pulled it up until only his mouth was visible, spitting a fat glob onto your ass letting it drip to your pussy, adding extra wetness into his fucking
His cock was hitting your g spot on every move, he was big, uncut and fat, just perfect, and he knew how to use it
"Fuck I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming!" You said drooling at the mouth as your second orgasm barreled in
"Good girl baby, fucking cum all over my cock"
With a few sloppy thrusts he finally came again, coating your insides with his warm cum for a second time that night, he massaged your ass as he kept rutting softly into you to keep cumming
"All nice and stuffed baby, so good" he said smacking your ass
Turns out it wasn't that big of a mistake to break into your house...
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iclarye · 1 year
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Good Looking
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pairing: opla!sanji x reader
summary: your plan was quick and simple. you would go to the kitchen, make some tea to ease your headache, and then return to your comfy bed. you weren't expecting to come across your crew's blonde cook barechested cutting carrots.
word count: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ content, smut, swearing, pet names, kitchen sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, cunnilingus, semi public sex, PIV
authors note: english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. read this fanfic on ao3: good looking. enjoy!
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You are used to this. The utterly exhausted sensation after several hand-to-hand combats, so when the headache started when you finally lay down in bed, you just decided to ignore it; the sleep would catch up before it got.
Until the needed sleep never got you. So, after an hour or two of rubbing your temples and staring at the ceiling while feeling envy-induced annoyance for Nami’s peaceful breathing, you pushed yourself to stand up.
Even if the cool night air almost makes you wish you hadn't left your warm bed, you needed that green tea to stop the pounding headache in the back of your head. The kitchen lights shining through the window went undetected as your mind was busy figuring out how you could prepare the drink quickly so that the pain could cease as soon as possible.
“Oh, it’s you, darling. Is everything alright?” As you walked into the door and recognized Sanji's words, you snapped out of your thoughts and began to look over your surroundings. He was not wearing any type of shirt while he sliced carrots from behind the counter.
Barechested. Topless. Half naked.
“Y-yes, I mean, no. Just a headache.” You gaze the blonde in the eyes as you stumble through your sentences, you are merely vaguely aware that your face is beginning to turn red. “I just want that green tea; I know it's somewhere around here. I saw Nami storing it in the cabinets earlier.”
You felt foolish. You became used to seeing shirtless men given that you lived in the middle of the ocean and therefore often came across Luffy, Usopp, and even Zoro barechested. They would often walk around the deck that way on hot days. Sanji, however, always showed up in a suit or, at the very least, had a formal shirt rolled up to his elbows. Even so, there was no chance of seeing him dressed otherwise since he went to sleep after you and woke up before everyone.
“I can do it for you; it’s my job after all, taking care of my sweet girl.” He placed the knife down, threw the chopped carrots in a nearby pot, and proceeded to go through the cupboards. “Love, do you remember where she stored it? There are plenty of cabinets in this place.”
"What are you doing here?" You instantly regret your tone as you noted Sanji just froze in his search.
“I mean, sorry, the kitchen is your place, I know. I just never saw you here this hour, and me and Luffy go here to do midnight snacks sometimes”
“I could not sleep”
“Me too” Once again, an irrational remark. He was informed that you were having trouble falling asleep; that's why you were there. “Why the carrots?”
“The attack that happened today. I had hoped for more food, but I believe you are aware of how fucked our situation is.” He continued looking for the tea while chuckling flatly. “We don't know when we will receive more supplies; we right now have barely anything stocked. Even the carrot peels have been put to use in an effort to reduce waste, you know.”
You weren't sure how to respond. It was clear that everyone's mood was negatively affected by today's incident. The worry of what would happen in the next few days or weeks was filling your head since Usopp managed to escape the ship. His back was to you, so you were unable to see his facial expressions, but you couldn't help but notice his muscles.
You felt a little guilty since you couldn't take your focus away from it, despite him having just voiced some serious concern. Has he lately started working out, or has he always had muscles like that?
“Are you and Luffy close then?”
The sudden break in silence confused you as he turned toward you with the pot of tea in his hands and a pleased smile.
“I suppose so. After all, he was the one who invited me to join the crew, right?” You smirked at the thought. It wasn't much time—perhaps a few months—and you were losing track of time at sea. “I fearlessly agreed to become a pirate, although I had never spent more than two weeks on a boat.”
“I remember that. You were so naive”
Of course he remembers. When you joined the crew, it was very easy to have a conversation with Sanji; he was constantly complimenting you or flirting in a straightforward manner. You never took him seriously, hearing about the blonde's techniques from Nami from the first day, but it was often hard not to chuckle or blush when he was so…
“Not anymore.”
He grinned at you before returning his attention to the tea. It was impossible to look away from his bare chest. You were unable to rest your mind from imagining how his skin would feel on your hand now that he was in your line of sight. You are already aware that he's a good-looking man, but now seeing more of his body did things to you.
“All right, madam. Here is your tea.” He circles the counters until he's right next to you. Really close. His eyes twinkle with recklessness, and you know he caught you staring at his figure.
You ignore the tickle in your lower belly as you stand there, grab the mug in your hands, and sip while gazing at his face. He still has that typical smirk, and when you finally finish drinking your tea, he glances at your lips before returning to your eyes. Everything becomes fuzzy and hot then.
He's very close. His hand has been lying on the counter, his chest is nearly brushing your own, and you can't help but notice his modest, almost transparent blonde hair in there. Perhaps it's a sign for you to walk away, that this is going in a dangerous direction, but you can't.
“What dear? See something you lik-”
You interrupt him with a kiss; it's all very messy and quick, and he is unable to have time to handle everything. You come to an abrupt halt and stare at him with wide eyes, realizing what you have done.
“Sanji, fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant t-”
He didn't let you finish the apologies. His hand pulls your head back, bringing your lips together. The kiss looks right now. It begins carefully, with both sides cautious, but it quickly gets heated as he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into your mouth.
You’re breathless when he finally pulls away, and his eyes are hungry. He didn't think twice before pressing his open mouth and tongue on your neck. A moan escapes from your lips.
His left hand shifts down to grab your hip, and you catch your breath. Your hands graze his nipples as you reach for his pecs, and he hisses at the fresh sensation in your throat.
“Gods Y/N, you’re going to kill me this way”
You chuckled, and he kissed you again, although this time you took charge, moving one of your hands to his blonde hair before tilting his head to grant you more access. You stop the action just to take a moment to recover and gaze into his dilated pupils. He looks so attractive like that that you can’t help but want to go down on him.
”Sanji,” You whisper breathlessly, enjoying the sensation of his name in your mouth, “let me taste you.”
He groans in response, which you take as encouragement as you lean down and proceed. You lick and kiss the trail that leads to his crotch, and he hisses softly, his abdomen tense beneath your hands and mouth. As you get down on your knees and look at his pants, you can see his erection, which seems big and marked.
You don't hesitate to pull down the waistband of his pants and boxers together, exposing his hard, leaking cock to your eyes. It's big. It's more than you expected. There's a buildup of cum at the head, and you reach forward and wrap your lips around it, licking gently just to tease.
You look up as you swirl your tongue over the tip and dip your tongue into the slit to see him biting his lower lips, his head thrown back. You wanted to see his face while sucking him. So you take him out of your mouth and cautiously wrap a hand around him, teasing him a little with your hand. Your movements are agonizingly slow as you lightly suck and lick the sensitive head until finally he looks down.
“Oh, darling, you’re so pretty like that.” Sanji whined above you, and then your mouth opened around the head of his cock, and he slid it into your mouth. “Fuck, fuck. So… so perfect.”
You can clearly see the blonde struggling to keep his composure, like how his knuckles are white while gripping the counter behind him. You relax your throat, take a long breath through your nose, and exhale slowly before swallowing him whole while gripping his inner thighs.
His penis is large, so the initial sensation isn't the most pleasant, but as he lets out a loud groan, you forget about everything. Something about hearing Sanji whine in the kitchen while you gagged on his cock made the aching between your legs unbearable.
"Oh yeah, Y/N. You are so good to me. Your mouth feels so good in me.”
You moaned softly at his words of praise, making vibrations around his penis, causing another moan from him. His left hand reached from the counter to your hair, and you didn't reject the help while bobbing your head up and down.
“My love, you are so perfec-“
A few tears occasionally escaped as you sucked him and he fucked your throat, sometimes only taking him out to run your tongue along his length. You started to see signs that he was close to cum. One of your hands left the thighs to rub his balls.
 “I… I'm going to cum, Y/N, dear... I" He gives you a chance to pull away from him, but you choose to continue and accept it all. You remove the entire length of his throat and leave just the head in your mouth.
He comes soon after, with a muffled groan, while you attempt to swallow as much as you can before it gets difficult, followed by a satisfied moan coming from you.
You felt his hand leave your hair, and for two or three minutes, you just remained there. He has his head back and is trying to catch his breath while you are on your knees, glancing at his chest and the beads of sweat gathering on his neck. It’s a perfect vision, honestly. You ponder whether he would notice if you began to masturbate right then.
“Come on, madam, let me help you up.” Sanji extends his hand to support you in getting up, and once you are upright, he grabs hold of your waist to keep you close to him.
He kisses you, tasting himself in your mouth. It's slow, and you realize he's still trying to emerge from his afterglow. When he breaks the kiss, that smile returns to his face, and you peck him once more just to get rid of it.
Sanji deepened the kiss again. And fuck, what else could you do but reply in the same aggressive way?
You're hoisted up by the hands on your hips and thrown onto the counter. The blonde is now between your legs, breaking the kiss, only to go straight to that specific spot on your neck that you're almost certain will leave a mark in the morning.
“Oh- Sanji,” You try to speak breathlessly as he licks your collarbone and his fingers brush the hem of your t-shirt, “You don’t h-have to do that.”
It wasn't that you didn't want Sanji. Since you entered that kitchen and spotted him without a shirt, you wanted this. Yet, you took the decision to give him an opportunity to back out, be thankful for the blowjob, and never bring up the matter again. Him taking you would be very personal.
“Please, my love,” You can hear the yearning in his voice as he whispers in your ear. “I just want to make you feel good too.”
You nod, and he attacks your mouth once again while his hands pull the hem of your t-shirt, exposing your chest, and you can't stop yourself from moaning at being so bare to him.
He doesn't think twice about placing his mouth on your breasts as he rolls the hard bud between his teeth and tongue and gives the other one a gentle stroke with his other hand. He bites your nipple as your head is flung back, and all you can do is pray that no one hears your loud scream.
He takes his mouth from your breasts and begins a trail down your stomach, and you can't stop whining due to the lack of warm sensation from his tongue in your niples, but you quickly figure out where he's headed as he lowers himself between your thighs.
He doesn't ask for permission as he aggressively rips off your shorts and, along with them, your underwear, revealing your pussy to him. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds, then placed it inside his mouth.
"Oh, you're so soaking wet, just for me, hm?" You are so stunned by the sight that you hardly pay attention to what the blonde is saying. “You taste so good, my darling.”
You stand on your elbows and glance at the man who is standing in between your legs. You can't help but gasp at the taunting as he starts giving you small small bites and kisses along your inner thighs. But you want him now.
“Oh Sanji, stop teasing for fuc-“
He didn't wait for you to finish the curse word before burying his face, pushing his tongue against your wet pussy, and licking a long, temptingly slow strip through your folds until he reached your sensitive bud.
In an attempt to create more friction, you thrust your hips into his mouth, and your left hand immediately settled on his blonde hair. Sanji found the ideal pattern to swirl his tongue over your clitoral region, leaving you panting for air.
He pushed two fingers deep within you, and you felt your walls clenching around them, sucking him in. His pace was fast, and he was still paying careful attention to your clit, leaving you close to the edge. You were a mess, and it wouldn't take long for you to cum. Yet you still needed him; you wanted more.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tried to block out the inappropriate sounds echoing through the kitchen.
“Sanji, p-please more”
"Use your words, my angel." You could see the glistening fluids from your pussy plastered on his chin when he pushed his head off of your thighs. “What do you want?”
“Fuck me, oh g-gods. I need you inside me." At your words, he groaned and took both of his fingers out to direct his cock at your entrance.
It wasn't difficult for him to enter since you were so soaked. At the feeling of it, you both simultaneously moaned. You felt completely filled; he just stood there for a while, waiting for you to get used to the size, until you signaled for him to start moving. It began off slow, but soon he started out moving his hips at a faster pace to satisfy both of you.
"You're perfect,” he moaned in two thrusts, and you had to put your hand over your mouth. “Look at you, taking my cock so well, oh darling.”
The hands on your hips let go and grabbed you under your right thigh, opening your legs and hitting you more deeply and faster. You thought you were seeing stars when he hit an exact spot inside your pussy that made you shout.
“Cum for me, my love. I know you want”
It didn't take long for your orgasm to hit you after that, your eyes rolled back and you let out a whine sound as you felt your walls squeeze his dick. He moaned along with you at the feeling and a few more thrusts and he came inside you.
Sanji's head fell directly to your shoulder, and you instinctively placed your palm in his blond locks. While the fluid was slowly dripping out of you, he continued to remain deep inside and breathe loudly.
He raised his head only to smile recklessly while glancing into your mouth. “So, do you still have a headache?”
Your hand reached out to push him, but you were helpless to suppress the giggles that came. He drew away from inside you but was still between your knees as he chuckled proudly.
“Do you think anyone heard?”
“I'm not sure, maybe when you let out that screa-" You slapped him on the shoulder to cut him off while embarrassed because of the probability. “Ok, ok my darling, next time we’ll find a more private place.”
“Next time, huh?
Sanji stood still with an anxious smile on his face; it was almost hilarious how someone so confident in themselves would respond in that manner. You wrapped his neck with both of your arms and gave him a quick kiss to reassure him that everything was fine.
"You should come to the kitchen more often, preferably alone.”
"And you should go shirtless more often too.”
"Only for you, my love.”
You gave him another kiss before leaving the counter, getting ready to go, and returning to the bedroom. Even though the night seemed to be becoming lighter, you were aware that there were still a few hours until sunrise. It was evident that there would be plenty of issues to address when you awoke, but for the time being, you were content, even though you were a little exhausted from the activities. As sleep came, all you could think of was Sanji and his smile.
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© iclarye, 2023
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miniimight · 11 months
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DISAPPEARING ACT . rindou often disappears for weeks at a time, showing up at home as if it's nothing. a brief exchange triggers a factory reset in him, but you're not as open to it as he expected you to be...
prompt used "better than me disappearing for good. / is it?"
with married!rindou + fem!reader
warnings cursing. a lot of cursing. angst? rindou is an idiot and possessive.
you never got to see your husband anymore. so much so that you considered the chance of it happening next to nothing. you knew what you were getting into being in an relationships with him; lots of meetings and flights to other cities all meant extended time away from home.
you would've been a little more forgiving had he chosen to tell you these things. but no. morning after morning, you wake up to him gone without a trace, without consideration for how you feel. was he alive? was he with someone else? did he not care enough to call or even send a text?
it was as if you lived alone, and a stranger crashed at your place every once in a while. and while you shared polite exchanges, no amount of small talk could overshadow how bleak your marriage was.
it was eleven days before he showed up again. you were, surprisingly, awake when he returned. he was perfectly groomed, albeit a little jaded, but still regarded you with the same coldness you endured since he started leaving. you missed the warmth of your younger days, where he would hold you close and reassure you that you were meant for each other for life.
you decided today was as good a day as any. heck, he even might be gone tomorrow and it would be like you didn't say anything.
"i'm tired of you disappearing for days and then coming back like it was nothing." you said plainly.
he slipped out of his shoes, looking down at you. rolling his eyes lightly but sighing heavily, he started to pull off his tie. "better than me disappearing for good."
a wry smile spread on your face. oh, if he only knew. "is it?"
those two words sent an arrow straight through his heart.
rindou was silent, pretending as if he didn't hear what you just said. but when you scoffed and walked away, he knew it was too real for him to overlook.
"you don't mean that." it was less of a question and more of a please, don't mean it.
you shrugged and went back to your phone, too benumbed to even look at him.
he stared at you, utterly confused as to how to tackle this. "y/n." he said firmly.
you slowly raised your head to meet his eyes, void of any care. "what?"
"i said, you don't mean that." he stood like a tree in the middle of the living area, palms growing sweaty. he loved you. he couldn't lose you, not when you both went through so much to get here.
"don't i?" you responded, placing your phone beside you. not like i see you anymore, anyway. what's the difference?
"stop fucking talking like that and answer me." he snarled. you rolled your eyes, rising to your feet.
"look, rin. who the fuck cares what i think or say? certainly not you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "just—just forget i said anything." you turned towards your bedroom. "goodnight."
wait. he lunged forward, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, backing you against a wall. caging you with arms on either side of you, he stared into your soul, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you.
you just stared back.
his heart clenched. yeah, he was away for weeks at a time. of course he didn't tell you. why would he? why would he burden you with that information?
"you really think me going away forever is better?" his voice was a whisper, but held the sharpness of a knife. "huh? you want me gone forever?"
you sighed. "i didn't say i wanted that. i just meant that, either way, it doesn't matter. going away forever, going away for weeks and weeks but only staying for a night..." your eyes met his, glossy but fierce. "it's the same to me. i don't care what the hell you do anymore, rindou. just let me go to bed."
he studied the person he truly loved for so long, wondering when it all went downhill.
you were impatient, ducking under his arms. "shit..." you cursed, rubbing the back of your neck as you walked away.
he watched you go. and he never saw you come back.
the next morning he woke up, expecting to see you in the kitchen or watching tv, but his house was empty.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer. he pulled up his phone. no texts, no calls. he bustled around the house, looking for some indication of where you went and he found nothing.
he called his brother, thinking that he was the next best person you would've gone to, but ran had no contact from you.
rindou sat on the couch, nothing to do but sit and wait. he looked around. everything was well-kept, pristine, and sanitized. it was like no one lived here at all. no one except a lonely spouse in an eternal cycle of wait for a husband that wouldn't even give them the time of day to say, i'm heading out.
i love you.
goodbye.
he leaned back, closing his eyes. he doesn't even say goodbye.
he hated himself for it.
hours passed and he didn't move from the couch. he knew you sat there for much longer, day after day, waiting for him. no wonder you were uncaring. coming home meant nothing if he would simply leave again.
then he heard the click of the door. he practically jumped off the couch, racing over to the entrance. he saw you with a couple groceries hooked on your forearms, struggling to keep the door open long enough for you to slip inside.
he rushed over. yanking the door open with such force, it slammed into the wall causing you to jump. rindou winced a little, steadying the door from swinging wildly.
you eyes met his and your face immediately scrunched with confusion. "what are you doing here?"
"well... it's my house..?" he said dumbly.
you pressed your lips into a line. "hm."
you expected me to be gone again, he thought bitterly. he cleared his throat. "let me help you with these," he alleviated the weight off your arms, bunching up a couple bags and carrying them all in one go. "you know, you could just order them for delivery."
you sidestepped him and walked to the kitchen. "why would i do that?"
"so you can have them brought to you from the comfort of your home." he responded lightly. following robotically, he was unsure where everything was supposed to be put away.
you laughed, catching him off-guard. on closer inspection, though, he knew that wasn't a genuine laugh. "rindou, do you think i want to stay in this place any more than i have to?"
you said it so casually, grabbing a bag from him and stocking the cabinets and fridges.
his stomach swirled with much more unease than he'd ever experienced on the job. it was the way you simply didn't care anymore, talking about the rift between you and him as if you were reciting the weather report.
fight me, he wanted to say. kick, yell at me, scream at me, do anything at all to show me you're upset. he knows he fucked up. you definitely know he fucked up. so why weren't you telling him that? why weren't you cursing him out for being a bad husband? your nonchalance came from a long time being cast aside, so much so that you expected it to happen; so much so that you gave up on him.
indifference was the final nail in the coffin of your marriage, and you were about to bang it shut.
he observed you, thinking about how many times you'd busy yourself with mundane errands to feel like you were living. how many times you'd come back to this flat, putting away shit you'd probably never touch. how many times you'd listen to the silence ringing off the walls.
he set the bags down and held your shoulders, turning you to face him. "i've taken the next few days off."
you smiled insincerely. "great."
rindou felt like a kid again, when he had work up enough courage to ask you out. "we... we could spend them together."
your eyes squinted. "why?"
he spluttered. "what do you mean, why?"
you swatted his hands off your shoulders. "god, i shouldn't have said anything," you mumbled. "rindou, this is just you feeling guilty because of what i said last night, okay?"
he frowned. "it's not."
your eyebrows raised as you rummaged through another grocery bag. "it is. don't pretend like you're gonna change. what did you think we were going to do—go out together? like old times, when we were happy and in love?"
his face burned. anyone else—if it were anyone else speaking so flippantly with him, he'd have them beat til they're unconscious. and past tense? when we were in love? his brain was doing backflips trying to find a way to salvage the situation. "yes."
you laughed that fake laugh again. it grated on his ears. "that's funny. i was just feeling a little vulnerable last night, is all. had a couple of drinks and maybe was feeling sentimental about the days when everything was simple."
rindou stepped closer to you, ripping the bag away from your hands and towering over you. "it is simple. we can—"
"we can't do anything." you curled your hands into fists, your voice trembling. "can you just..?" go away?
rindou's breath caught in his chest, fully anticipating another heartless laugh.
he hated it when you cried. he hated it when you were angry. he would do anything for your eternal happiness, he realized, and he'd been falling short of his promises for far too long.
rindou leaned onto the counter, bending at the waist. his hand rested on your waist and his eyes were laser focused on your expression, a confusing mix of frustration, sadness, and the will to remain emotionless.
"baby," he whispered.
"don't fucking call me baby." you hissed.
he pursed his lips, unwilling to compromise. "pretty baby. i don't wanna go on like this." his fingers brushed your cheek. "i don't want to you to be sad anymore."
"well, isn't that righteous." you rolled your eyes though your heart ached. it ached for him, for the boyfriend he was and the husband he promised to be.
he glared at you. "would you just listen?"
"no, rindou." you shoved him away from you, despite the overwhelming urge telling you to pull him in and hug him tight. "stop acting like i'm the one making things difficult. like you're being a fucking saint trying to bring us back together when the only reason we're like this is because of you." your voice became watery, growing in volume as you finally succumbed to all the hurt and pain inside you.
"i tried to be understanding." you sobbed. "i did. i tried. you have your work and i know that it's dangerous. but seriously—you promised you'd make time for me. you promised." you sniffed, rubbing tears off your cheeks, ranting without any goal in mind. "you don't even say goodbye."
he stood frozen, your emotions hitting him square in the face and leaving him dazed. it was like the only thing he could do was stand and watch.
"i didn't want to do this." you said tearfully. "i'm sorry i said anything, okay? i'm sorry. just—leave me alone."
his eyes narrowed. "never. i'm never leaving."
your glassy eyes shot up to meet his with a hard look of their own.
"i love you, y/n. and i'm never letting you go." he said firmly, stepping closer and closer to you. he was done beating around the bush; you should know that no matter how many times you push him away, he will never leave you. he'd make up for his mistakes; all you had to do was give him a chance.
you scoffed. "love? you love me?"
he caged you against the opposite counter with two arms on either side of you. "yeah. i do."
you stared up at him, tears staining your cheeks. "you're a liar."
"y/n." he growled—a warning.
"can't go back into the world having the poor little wife weighing on your conscious, is that it?" you snapped. "never stopped you before."
"y/n."
"no." you ducked under his arm, leaving the kitchen. you evaded his attempts to pull you back, running to the closet. grabbing a coat and your purse, you slipped on your shoes.
"where the fuck are you going?" rindou yelled after you. "this conversation isn't over."
"it is for me." you mumbled, throwing the front door open and ignoring the fire in the pit of your stomach. you got into your car and started it up. the garage opened at an agonizing pace, enough time for rindou to come bursting out the door. he stood at your window.
"y/n, you are not leaving. get out of the car."
"fuck off." you grit your teeth, your eyes raising to the rearview mirror to reverse. you screeched to a halt when you saw rindou's purple hair in the reflection. you gaped, rolling down your window and whipping your head to face him. "are you insane? move!"
he shook his head, standing in all his glory right behind the car. his arms were crossed and his weight rested on one hip; the picture of stubbornness. "you're gonna have to run me over."
you scoffed, laughing breathlessly at the absurd situation. "i'll call the police."
"you won't."
you grabbed your phone. "i will, don't try and stop me from leaving."
"you won't call the police, and you wanna know why?" rindou let his head fall to his shoulder. "you love me. i know you do."
you opened your mouth to retort.
"don't even try to deny it." he chuckled lowly. "you're just protecting yourself, baby. you're protecting yourself from the nightmare you call a husband, right?"
your eyes rounded, looking at him with an unreadable expression.
he walked to your side of the car, reaching through the opening to flick the window button. he slipped his hand out as it began to slowly slide back up.
"leave, then. just know i'm not going to stop my efforts to get you back." he smiled as he went back into the house.
the window closed completely.
you were brimming with annoyance, yet you couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache when you pulled out of the driveway, leaving your house—and rindou—behind.
this was so self-indulgent lol. i know they mean well, but when people apologize so quickly and with such intensity, i just get frustrated that i had to get to such a low point to see any remorse or change from them. and of course, i can't argue without crying my eyes out. anyway, do we want a part two?
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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amomentsescape · 1 year
Text
Slashers React to You Being Harassed
Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words
A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!
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Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.
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Michael Myers
You were honestly a little scared
Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man
Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own
Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby
He was a blatant and proud stalker
So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-
Welp
The man is now dead with a slit throat
That was quick
"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"
He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home
"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest
He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks
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Jason Voorhees
This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you
You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two
But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood
You scream
The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer
"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."
He just tilts his head at you
You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now
Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder
"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning
He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out
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Brahms Heelshire
You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line
So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you
And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house
Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight
So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment
You screamed
It lasted a few seconds
But the man didn't seem fazed
"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said
"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him
The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground
Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock
"Thank you-" you started
Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house
He didn't let you go outside for a while after that
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Billy Loomis
You were about ready to punch this man yourself
But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone
This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you
But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger
A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds
After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you
"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy
It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion
"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"
Billy avoided your gaze
"Were you stalking me?"
"I like to call it, observing"
You let out a groan
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Stu Macher
You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself
This boy is glued at your hip 24/7
The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say
Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long
So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark
"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely
How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next
But this man was pissing you off so...
"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"
And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest
Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside
He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time
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Eric Draven
You were honestly getting freaked out by this man
In a city like this, anyone could be hurt
But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building
"Thank you," you murmured
"What was that?" the man spat back
You couldn't help but smile a bit
"You're about to get your ass kicked"
He just laughed at you
Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind
He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante
"Hi"
The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe
And he continued to be struck another 17 times
Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red
"You didn't have to kill him," you said
Eric just shrugged
"Oops?"
4K notes · View notes
dixons-sunshine · 6 months
Text
Hazelnut | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Daryl didn’t know exactly what he expected when his group settled into Alexandria—maybe some snobby, incompetent inhabitants who couldn’t stand their ground if something were to happen or people who would turn on him and his group at any given moment, but definitely not a little girl who basically attached herself to his hip. And he definitely didn’t expect to find himself drawn to the mother of that little girl.
Genre: Fluff, angst but not a lot.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour war. (Timeline is kinda wonky. Saviours kinda don’t exist in this? I don’t really know.)
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, child abandonment, mental abuse, mentions of drugs and alcohol, single parenthood, sexual content but not smut.
Word count: 8.1k.
A/n: This was such a cute idea that @louifaith had! I tried my best, but it honestly sucks. I’m not really happy with how this turned out, but I hope you like it! Also, definitely go check out @celtic-crossbow’s version! Pure perfection, honestly.
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“You have to lighten up, Daryl. How do you expect to make any friends with that ‘leave me alone’ attitude of yours?”
Daryl grumbled to himself as he continued tinkering with his crossbow. The hot late afternoon sun was relentlessly beating down on the community as its inhabitants continued about their tasks. Daryl had silently been observing everyone from the porch steps he was sitting on, enjoying the moment of solitude he had, but Carol had other ideas.
“Daryl,” Carol started, crossing her arms as she descended down the steps. She turned around to face Daryl, her voice stern. “It would do you good to socialize a bit.”
“I talked to Tobin when we finished up with the construction of the new walls yesterday,” Daryl replied nonchalantly, keeping his eyes focused on his crossbow instead of the stern woman in front of him.
“That doesn’t count. That’s work talk. I'm talking about actual socialising. Like, striking up a conversation with someone that isn’t in our group or someone you have to talk to for work.”
“I dun’ need to. Y’all are the only company I need. Ain’t gon’ waste my time tryna make buddies with people who dun’ even like me,” Daryl responded with a sense of finality, gripping his crossbow and getting up. “Now get off my back, woman.”
“Where are you going?” Carol called after him, watching the archer walk away from the house.
“Somewhere,” he replied shortly, ending the conversation effectively.
Slightly irritated, Daryl walked with no particular destination in mind. He passed by some people who sent him friendly greetings and small waves, which he returned half-heartedly. After a while of mindlessly walking about, Daryl stopped in front of a makeshift park of sorts. It was a small area surrounded by grass and had a big tree towards the edge. He moved to sit on the grass underneath the shade of the tree. The few kids in the community loved to play in this area, but it was deserted for now; the perfect place for the archer to relax for a while.
Daryl went about sharpening his knife for a while. The mediocre task kept his mind busy, busy enough to ignore the parents and kids who arrived, busy enough to ignore the wary stares the parents threw his way. Daryl simply shook his head—even after two months, there were still people who were wary of him and the rest of his group. Even after everything they did and sacrificed to ensure the community's safety.
“Mistah lonely?”
Startled, Daryl’s head shot up and his eyes locked with those of a little girl who looked no older than three years old. The girl looked at him with curiosity written all over her young face, eyeing the knife in the archer’s hands with wonder. She tentatively reached forward to touch the knife, her fingertips close to making contact with the cold metal of the dangerous weapon.
Daryl jerked the knife away and out of reach of the young girl. “Dun’ touch that,” he barked coldly, standing up to keep the knife out of the young girl’s reach.
“Sharp mife?” the girl questioned, moving closer towards the archer. She reached up to grab his arm, trying to reach the knife.
Daryl frowned at the girl. He gently pried his arm away from the girl’s grasp and took a step back, unnerved by the soft touch of the child’s hands. That didn't seem to deter the girl, however.
“Mistah use sharp mife?”
“Scram, kid. Go back to yer mama.”
“Mama?” the girl asked, her eyes lighting up at the mere mention of her mother. “Mama! Get Mama!”
“What? No, that ain’t—” Daryl started, but was abruptly cut off when the girl took off and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, wobbling more like a penguin than anything else. Daryl raised his eyebrows as he watched the girl’s retreating figure, confused by the interaction he just had.
Well, he thought, at least that’s the end of that. However, as Daryl gathered his crossbow and sheathed his knife, he inwardly groaned at the sound of the little girl’s voice calling out to him.
“Mistah! Mama here!”
Daryl turned and looked at two approaching figures. The young girl was holding a woman’s hand, leading the woman over to him. The woman was laughing lightly, allowing herself to be pulled by the little girl.
“Come, Mama!” the little girl giggled, excitedly tugging your hand harder.
“Okay, okay! No need to rip my hand off,” you laughed, soon coming to a stop in front of Daryl.
Daryl looked at you with a frown, scowling slightly. His eyes darted between the excited little girl and you, slightly taken aback by the friendliness you radiated. Despite everything he had done for the community up until that point, only a few select Alexandrians—mainly Aaron and Eric—didn’t show him any contempt or wariness. Yet there you were, smiling up at him and looking as pretty as a picture.
“Mama,” the little girl excitedly told him, pointing up to you. She smiled at you, dimples forming on her chubby cheeks.
Well, the kid certainly knew how to follow orders. He had told her to go get her mama, and there you were.
“I'm Y/N. You must be Daryl?” You introduced yourself, extending your hand for a handshake.
Daryl looked at your hand, not moving to take it. However, just as you were about to lower your hand awkwardly at his dismissal, the little girl stepped forward.
“Like this, mistah,” she instructed, taking the archer’s hand and putting it in yours.
Daryl flinched at the contact and quickly withdrew his hand, looking at the little girl with a small frown. He looked back at you, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.
This was the worst random social situation he’d ever been in.
“Sorry,” you apologized, giving him a sheepish smile before turning back to your daughter. “Hazel, we don’t touch people unless they say we can, alright?”
“Sorry, Mama,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly, not fully understanding what you were saying. She turned back to look at Daryl. “Sorry, Dar.”
“Daryl,” the archer corrected her with a gruff tone of voice, talking for the first time since you had approached him.
Hazel looked up at him in confusion. “Dar,” she repeated herself, a look of concentration on her face.
“No, ‘s—nevermind. Forget it,” Daryl grumbled, shifting his weight from his one leg to the other. He looked back to you again and noticed how awkward you looked, your lips pursed as you avoided his eyes.
“Sorry. She has trouble with pronouncing some words and names. I’m working on helping her with that,” you explained, your body language exuding a challenging aura, as if daring him to insult your daughter for something as miniscule as not being able to pronounce a name.
Daryl noticed the defensive tone in your voice and noticed your defensive stature, making him raise his eyebrows questioningly, yet he refrained from questioning why. “S’alrigh’,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his crossbow that was slung over his shoulder.
“Okay,” you said, gathering Hazel up into your arms. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to get going. I have to get this gremlin ready for dinner. Sorry for bothering you.”
With that, you turned around and retreated back towards the houses, Hazel happily babbling in your arms. Daryl watched your retreating figure with a sense of uneasiness. In that short interaction, he found himself unexplainably drawn to you. He didn't know you, but some part of him wanted to get to know you.
However, as quickly as that thought entered his mind, he just as quickly disregarded it. He didn’t need to get attached to any more people, especially people who couldn’t protect themselves in this harsh world they were forced to live in. In the end, everyone he cared about died or left, so it was better to spare himself the inevitable pain and keep you and your daughter at an arm’s length.
Something told him that it would be easier said than done, however.
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The next morning, Daryl found himself working alongside Aaron. The two of them were busy carrying large pieces of metal to the wall they were busy fortifying, Aaron making casual small talk while Daryl simply hummed in acknowledgement. Once the last piece of metal was added to the already existing pile, the two men wiped the sweat from their foreheads and took a drink of water, before walking over to Aaron’s house. Aaron took a seat on the porch steps while Daryl remained standing on the grass.
“So yeah, that’s how I met Eric,” Aaron told him, concluding his long and winded tale.
“Story straight out a damn romance novel,” Daryl replied sarcastically, eliciting a laugh from Aaron.
“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of it all you want. Everyone always does.”
“Nah, s’a good story. Pretty cliche with the whole spillin’ yer coffee on his shirt bit, but s’still a good story,” Daryl reassured him. “Now c’mon, didn’t ya say somethin’ ‘bout havin’ a part for my bike?”
“Dar!”
As if materializing out of thin air, Hazel excitedly bounded down the porch steps of Aaron’s home and threw herself against Daryl, clinging to his leg in a hug. Caught off guard, Daryl stumbled a bit but quickly regained his footing, his eyes darting down to look at Hazel. His eyebrows raised in surprise before he gently pried the girl from his legs, not used to any kid other than his little Asskicker clinging to him like that.
“Kid, what are ya doin’?” he questioned, taking a step back from her, but it was to no avail. Hazel simply smiled up at him before throwing herself at him again, clinging to his leg like a koala bear.
Aaron chuckled. “I see you’ve met Hazel. She’s quite the character, huh?”
“What’s she even doin’ here?”
“Eric asked to babysit her. He loves having her over, and her mom said yes.”
Hazel giggled against Daryl’s leg, turning her head to look at Aaron. “Hi, Rin!”
“Hey, Hazel,” Aaron chuckled fondly, sending the girl a small wave.
“Rin?” Daryl questioned, placing one of his big hands on the little girl’s head, accepting his fate of being clung to for the time being.
“She can’t say my name properly,” Aaron explained. “She has trouble with pronouncing things sometimes.”
“Yeah, her mama said somethin’ ‘bout that,” Daryl said without really thinking about it.
“So you’ve met her?” Aaron asked, leaning forward with slight interest. He had a small smirk on his face, one that Daryl couldn’t quite decipher.
“Briefly. Hazel practically dragged her over to meet me yesterday,” Daryl replied, looking down at Hazel when he felt her grip loosen on his leg.
Hazel looked up at him and raised her arms, looking at him expectantly. “Upsies,” she said, jumping slightly on her toes. “Dar, upsies!”
To his complete and utter surprise, Daryl found himself leaning down to pick her up. The act hadn’t even fully registered in his brain until the small girl was already in his arms, her small, chubby hands gripping at his shirt as she giggled. The small sound of her laughter made the archer’s heart fill with a sudden and unexpected fondness, completely taking him by surprise. It was the same type of fondness that filled his heart whenever he coaxed a laugh from little Judith, and yet it was completely different at the same time. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“She seems to like you, Daryl,” Aaron laughed, standing up from his position on the porch steps. “Not a lot of people can say that about her.”
“What do ya mean?” Daryl found himself questioning, confused entirely by the man’s revelation. From the limited interactions that the archer has had with the young girl up until that point, he naturally assumed that Hazel was that way with everyone. What would make him special enough to the little girl, who had just met him, to make her treat him differently than she would others?
Aaron motioned for Daryl to follow him into the house, and he obliged, silently entering the pristine house while still carrying Hazel in his arms. The girl took a great interest in his hair, playing with it to entertain herself.
“From what Y/N told us, she was with a group before she got here who treated her and Hazel horribly, and Hazel hasn’t fully regained her trust in adults yet,” Aaron explained.
Daryl frowned. “Badly, how?”
“She wouldn’t say, but it took forever for Eric and I to gain Hazel’s trust. We even tried to bribe her with candy but she wouldn’t budge. But she seems to trust you and you said you only met her yesterday?”
“Yeah. She approached me at that makeshift park the kids play at,” Daryl nodded, rubbing a hand over Hazel’s small back subconsciously, shifting her in his arms slightly.
“Then you’re definitely special, buddy. This kid doesn’t trust easily,” Aaron declared, sitting down on a chair in the dining room.
Daryl followed his lead, taking a seat across from him on a chair while still holding the small girl firmly in his arms. Hazel’s attention shifted from his hair to the loose threads on his sleeveless shirt, playing with them to keep herself occupied.
“They were with a group ‘fore this? How long have they been here?” Daryl questioned, interested in knowing more about you, although he didn’t know why.
“Yeah. Hazel and her mom haven’t been here all that long. I actually found them a couple of days, maybe a week, before I found you all. From what I know, Y/N and Hazel had been on their own for a while before I found them. Y/N almost killed me the first time we met. She thought I was gonna hurt them. It took me and Eric a while to convince her to come back with us, but even then she refused to let her guard down. She was kind of like Rick when we first met, except she didn't tie me up or force me to eat apple sauce.”
Daryl hummed, hissing slightly when he felt Hazel tug at his hair rather harshly. He brought one of his hands up to pry her hand away from his hair, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over her small fist. “That hurts,” he told her softly, surprising himself by the gentleness of his usually gruff voice.
“Sorry, Dar,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly. She yawned before laying her head down on his shoulder. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder.
Daryl felt his heart swell with fondness for the second time that day. He gently rubbed her back. From his experience with Judith, that small action could lull a small child into slumber, and he hoped that proved to be correct with Hazel.
“You’re good at that,” Aaron commented, a smile on his face as he watched that small interaction between the big, ‘scary’ man and the small, innocent child.
Daryl looked at him, confused by the look the man was sending him. “Good at what?” he inquired, genuinely curious.
“That,” Aaron repeated himself, motioning to Hazel. “Were you a dad before all of this?”
Daryl stiffened at the question. “Nah,” he shook his head, adjusting Hazel in his arms again. “Not the type’a guy who could’ve started a family back then.”
“And now?” Aaron asked, unaware of Daryl’s inner turmoil.
Daryl inhaled sharply. “To start a family, ya need a partner,” Daryl started, slightly rocking the small girl in his arms. “I ain’t got a partner, and there ain’t exactly women linin’ up to be with me, so kids ain’t somethin’ I see in my future.”
“It could still happen, you know? You might meet someone. Hell, you know what? I know you’ll meet someone.”
“A lot of confidence for somethin’ that most likely won’t ever happen,” Daryl grumbled.
“Never say never, Daryl,” Aaron replied, giving the man a small smirk. “Never say never.”
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“Mama! Mama!” Hazel called through the house, excitement evident in her voice.
You smiled at the sound of your daughter’s voice, glad to be able to see her again after a whole day of being alone in your small house. The sun was setting, the stars starting to twinkle in the sky and you were almost done with dinner. Eric had told you that he would bring Hazel back before sunset and you were starting to get worried, but thankfully she seemed to be okay.
You walked into the living room and hunched down to pick up the small girl that ran into your arms, hugging her tightly to you as you placed kisses all over her face. She giggled at the sensation and pulled back, grabbing your hand and excitedly pointing towards the door.
“Mama, Dar here,” she said, smiling widely before turning towards the door.
You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with the archer. You stood up and gave him an awkward smile, painfully aware of the awkward encounter you had with the man the day before. Daryl seemed to mirror your unease; he nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other, ducking his head to avoid your gaze.
“I see that, Sweetheart,” you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the man before you.
“I played with Rin and Eric. Dar played too!” Hazel happily exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement as she looked up at Daryl in awe.
“Did he, now?” you asked rhetorically, marvelling at the sudden and unexpected change of character for the quiet man. Just the day before, he had shrugged Hazel off and seemed to want nothing to do with her, yet now your daughter was claiming that the huntsman had spent time with her that day. It didn’t make any sense whatsoever.
“Yeah! So fun!” Hazel laughed happily, waddling over to Daryl to seemingly hug his leg again.
Daryl, who had been hugged multiple times by the toddler that day, instinctively crouched down to have her hug his side instead of his leg. Hazel wrapped her small arms around him and nuzzled her head into his neck, and Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face. One day had been more than enough for him to grow fond of the small girl, and he cursed himself for letting his guard down enough for that to happen, but the damage was already done; that little girl had already wormed her way into his heart.
“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled at her, watching the interaction between the archer and your baby girl. “Baby, why don't you go get changed into your blue PJ’s, huh? You're a big girl now, right? Think you can get changed without Mama’s help?”
“Yeah!” she exclaimed happily, pulling away from the hug and giving Daryl a smile, dimples on full display. “Bye, Dar!”
“Bye, Hazel,” Daryl greeted her quietly, watching the girl waddle to the stairs and begin to climb them carefully. He then hesitantly shifted his attention to you, but instead of seeing that wariness he’d grown accustomed to other parents giving him, one that he expected you to give him after his encounter with you the day before, there was a look of curiosity and wonder in your eyes.
“Thanks for bringing her home,” you thanked him, offering the archer a small smile.
Daryl ducked his head. “Ain’t nothin’,” he replied, shaking his head.
“So, you spent the day with her?” you started, looking at him questioningly. “By the way you looked uncomfortable around her yesterday, I figured you’d avoid her at all costs.”
“I was spendin’ the day helpin’ Aaron. He invited me to his place ‘cause he had a part I needed for my bike and Hazel was there. She wouldn’t let go of me after she saw me,” Daryl explained, fiddling with his hands.
“So she basically forced you into spending time with her?” you asked with a small laugh, your eyes crinkling in amusement.
“Pretty much,” Daryl joked, his lips involuntarily twitching into a small smile.
You laughed lightly and Daryl chuckled softly, admiring the way your eyes seemingly sparkled. The dim light of the living room gave you a golden glow, and Daryl found himself admiring your beauty. The unnerving thought struck him at full force and he tried to shake that thought from his mind—he couldn’t let his mind go there. He wouldn’t let his mind go there. He had to keep you at an arm’s length. It was bad enough that Hazel had broke through his barrier in one measly day, so he couldn’t allow her mom to do the same, too. More attachments definitely wasn’t something the archer needed.
“Well, Hazel seems happy. I think you’ve just became her best friend, whether you like it or not,” you told him playfully.
“I have a feeling that I ain’t got much say in the matter.
“Nope,” you laughed. “But thank you. She hasn’t looked that happy in a long time.”
“Glad I could help,” Daryl replied, a small smile on his face. “Sorry for bein’ a dick yesterday.”
“It’s fine. We shouldn't have bothered you.”
“Ya weren’t botherin’ me. I jus’... Weren’t in a good mood, s’all. M’sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” You gave him a sweet smile before turning around. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Daryl frowned in confusion but didn’t say anything. A few minutes passed until you reentered the living room, a lunchbox in your hand. You promptly handed it to him, and Daryl could feel the heat radiating off the bottom.
“What’s this?” he asked, giving you a questioning look.
“Stew. I made more than Hazel and I can finish, so I figured I’d give you some. And before you say anything, just take it. Consider it a thank you gift.”
Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, resisting the urge to deny your ‘gift’. “Thanks.”
“No problem at all,” you reassured him, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart flutter uncontrollably.
Daryl ducked his head, willing the blush on his face to go away. “I should get goin’,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.
“I’ll walk you out,” you replied, making good of your promise by walking with him over to the door.
Daryl stepped out of your home and turned to you. He gave you a nod and turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard you speak up.
“I hope you realize that she isn’t gonna let you off the hook. You’re going to be stuck with her now. And my daughter and I are a package deal, so you���re going to be stuck with me, too.”
For some unknown reason, Daryl didn’t mind that thought at all.
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“Easy, Hazelnut. Ya dun’ wanna hurt yerself, do ya?”
The toddler giggled, her small hands toying with the arrow in her hands. “Sorry, Dar.”
Daryl smiled at the small girl, bringing one of his hands up to ruffle her hair, successfully coaxing another laugh from her. “I know ya are. Jus’ try to be more careful, alright? I dun’ want ya gettin’ hurt.”
“No boo-boos. Boo-boos hurt,” Hazel replied, gingerly handing the arrow back to the archer.
“They do,” Daryl agreed, taking the arrow from the girl. “That’s why ya gotta be careful, alright? Dun’ want anythin’ to happen to someone as sweet as ya, Hazelnut.”
Hazel giggled and nodded. “No boo-boos.”
“No boo-boos,” Daryl repeated, smiling fondly at the young girl.
Two months had passed since Daryl had initially met you and Hazel. In those two months, Daryl had found himself becoming intertwined with your lives, a constant presence for you and your daughter.
The archer hadn’t asked you what had happened to Hazel’s father yet, and he wondered when he could be permitted to ask something as personal as that. However, Daryl knew that there could only be two plausible explanations; either he was dead, or he willingly left. The huntsman really hoped it wasn’t the latter. No person should be left to raise a kid on their own.
However, as Daryl’s love for the young girl grew, so did his feelings for you. It got to the point where he had started wishing that he was Hazel’s dad, that he could’ve been there during your pregnancy and watched your belly grow. He would’ve worshipped your body and been there for you every step of the way. However, as much as he wanted that, that was a dream that couldn’t be a reality, so he settled on being Hazel's best friend instead. At least it meant being able to both bond with the little girl and simultaneously have an excuse to see you.
“The two of you look like you’re having fun. Mind if I join?”
Daryl’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat, that sweet smile of yours making butterflies swarm around in his stomach.
“Mama!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hurrying down the porch steps to fling herself into your arms.
You laughed, picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead. You looked at Daryl and sent him a smile. “Hey, Daryl.”
“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, fiddling with the arrow in his hands.
“Mama, play with us!” Hazel giggled, wiggling in your arms to be put down.
You lowered her to the ground, watching her climb up the porch steps and clamber into Daryl’s lap. Daryl lowered the arrow and wrapped his arms around her, placing a small kiss to the side of her head. You smiled at the interaction, your heart speeding up against your will.
“I know what I just said, but I actually can’t, Baby. It’s time to go home. It’s dinner time,” you told her.
Hazel frowned and nuzzled her head into Daryl’s neck, a whimper building up in her throat. Instinctively, Daryl started rocking her back and forth, rubbing her small back and shushing her quietly.
“S’alright, dun’ cry. Ya will see me again tomorrow, alright?” he whispered into her ear, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffles. When he felt her nod, he placed one final kiss to the side of her head before placing her back down. “Why dun’ ya go say bye to Jude?”
Hazel looked at you expectantly, and you nodded. “Go ahead, Baby. I’ll wait for you.”
Hazel ran into the house, leaving you and Daryl alone on the porch. The archer stood up and walked down to meet you on the grass, pushing his hands into his pockets as he looked at you through his hair. As you looked at him, it took all of your willpower to resist the urge to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek. Not trusting your own hands, you crossed your arms and looked up at the huntsman, giving him a small smile.
“This is the first time ya’ve come to pick her up. I usually bring her home. S’somethin’ wrong?” Daryl inquired, searching your eyes for an answer.
You shook your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just figured that I could come pick her up for a change. Spare you the walk back to my place.”
“It ain’t that far,” Daryl pointed out, motioning down the street. “Jus’ a couple’a houses down.”
“Yeah, I know, but...” you trailed off, unsure if you should lay your problems onto him.
“But what?” he questioned, suddenly on edge. Had you changed your mind about him? About him being around you and your daughter? He really hoped not.
You hesitated for a moment. “It’s nothing. Just some moms around the community who like to be judgy.”
“What are they sayin’?”
“That I'm a bad mom for not taking the time out of my day to pick up my own daughter. That I’m dumping my responsibilities onto other people. Just thought I’d start proving them wrong.”
“Hey, yer not a bad mom. I like bringin’ Hazel home at the end of the day. That way I know she’s safe.” He also liked it because it meant he got to see you being all domestic, hugging your daughter tightly and sending him beautiful smiles, inviting him to stay for dinner each time. He always declined, not wanting to be a burden, but your offer never waned.
You smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Daryl instantly noticed it and placed one of his hands on your shoulder, taking you by surprise. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and your skin flushed where he touched you.
“Dun’ let ‘em convince ya that yer a bad mom. I ain’t never seen a better mom than ya. How many moms here can say that they kept their kid alive out there in the real world? That, despite everythin’, their kid came first and that they would kill for them?”
“How did you know I wasn’t here from the start?”
“Aaron told me he that found ya and Hazel on yer own not too long before he found us. The fact that ya kept her alive on yer own for that long proves to me that yer the best fuckin’ mom under the sun.”
You smiled at him and placed your hand over his that was still resting on your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.
“No problem,” he replied, holding eye contact with you. His hand lingered on your shoulder for longer than necessary, and he gazed deep into your eyes.
Your heart sped up and stopped beating at the same time, noticing a shift in the archer’s emotions. However, before either of you could do anything else, Daryl snapped out of it and withdrew his hand, taking a step back.
You cleared your throat and ducked your head, your face heating up. Luckily, Hazel ran out at that moment and bounded down the stairs, throwing herself into Daryl’s side and clinging to his leg.
“Bye, Dar!”
Daryl pressed Hazel tightly to him. “Bye, Hazelnut.”
Hazel unwound her arms from around him and moved over to you, extending her arms to be picked up. You did just that, holding her tightly to you. You turned to Daryl and offered him a small smile.
“You know, my offer still stands. You could join us for dinner.”
Daryl was about to decline your offer again, but Hazel cut him off.
“Yes! Please, Dar!”
In that moment, Daryl found that he wouldn’t be able to say no this time around. He just would’t be able to. He gave you both a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
You smiled broadly. “Great! Come on, then.”
“Dun’ I need to change?”
“No, you’re fine, don’t worry. You can come as is.”
“Alright,” Daryl nodded. “Let’s go.”
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“Could you maybe get Hazel settled into her highchair? I’ll be right out with the food.”
Daryl nodded and watched you retreat from the dining room into the kitchen before turning around. “Hazelnut!” he called, hearing the toddler’s footsteps come into the dining room.
Hazel stared up at the archer with a huge smile, her arms extended to be picked up. Daryl smiled softly at the girl and leaned down to pick her up, placing her in her highchair. Once he was sure that she was settled and wouldn’t fall out, he got settled in the chair next to her, listening to Hazel’s happy babbling.
Soon enough, you reentered the dining room with a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. The aroma of the meal made Daryl’s mouth practically water. The last time he’d eaten spaghetti was when Aaron had invited him, and that was a good couple of months ago at that point.
“It smells fuckin’ good,” Daryl complimented you without really thinking about his choice of words, and he instantly regretted not thinking about them beforehand.
“Fuck,” Hazel repeated happily, completely oblivious to the horrified look that spread over Daryl’s face, or the amused one that spread over yours.
“Nah, Hazelnut, dun’ say that. Dun’ ever say that,” he told her hurriedly, his heart beating faster at his mistake.
“Fuck,” Hazel giggled.
“No, I jus’ said—” Daryl started, shooting you a worried look. However, he calmed down when he saw your amused smile. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” you told him, laughing lightly while serving everyone some food. “Don’t look so worried. I’m not gonna bite your head off because of one little slip up. If I had a penny for every time I accidentally slipped up since she was born, I would’ve had enough money to be able to buy a yacht in the old world. You’re good, don’t worry.
“Okay, but we can’t have her goin’ ‘round sayin’ that, though,” Daryl replied, taking a deep breath to calm himself. You weren’t mad. Everything was fine.
“You’re right about that,” you started, turning to look at Hazel. “Baby, you can’t say fuck, okay? That word belongs to Daryl. Until he’s ready to share that word, you can’t say it, alright?”
“Okay, Mama,” Hazel replied, starting to eat her food rather messily.
Daryl chuckled softly at the girl before turning to his own food. He started eating as well, the flavours of the delicious meal melting on his tongue. He wanted to gulp it all down but he resisted the urge, instead eating with a delicacy he never knew existed in him.
The meal was mostly spent in silence, save for Hazel’s happy babbling and the occasional input from you or Daryl. Daryl did, however, sneak glances at you when you weren’t looking, admiring your beauty and the soft, loving, tender way you acknowledged your daughter and the tenderness you used when you wiped her face clean of the sauce.
Unbeknownst to the archer, you had also been sneaking glances at him. Admiring his gentleness with your daughter, the way his eyes softened and the quiet chuckles he would let out whenever Hazel did something amusing, or the small smiles he would send in your direction. It was amazing how important Daryl had become to you and Hazel in a span of a few months. The big, gruff, quiet man with a heart of gold, who had invaded your thoughts and your heart. It was both terrifying and thrilling to think about.
Your respective meals were soon finished. and Hazel’s eyes were beginning to droop. You noticed it and got up to take her out of her highchair. She instantly laid her head down onto your shoulder and closed her eyes, and you placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
“You tired, Baby?” you cooed, rubbing her back gently. When she simply responded by nuzzling her face deeper into your shoulder, you laughed fondly and turned to Daryl, sending him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I should probably get this little rascal to bed. You can stay here. I’ll be right back.”
However, as soon as you said that, Hazel interjected. “Dar tuck me in with Mama?” she asked innocently, lifting her head up to look at Daryl.
Daryl looked surprised. He locked eyes with you, his heart fluttering at the smile you sent him.
“If Daryl’s okay with it,” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.
“Yeah, ‘course,” Daryl replied, nodding his head.
You motioned for him to follow you upstairs, and he obliged. Together, the two of you descended up the stairs and into Hazel’s bedroom. Daryl stopped in the doorway, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but you had other ideas. You gently took his hand and led him into the room, only letting go of it to tuck your daughter into bed. Daryl subconsciously placed his hand on your shoulder instead, watching place your little girl into bed.
Hazel was already half asleep when you put her into her bed. She instantly curled up into her pillow and let out a big sigh, her eyes opening only slightly. In her view, she saw you, her mom, the woman who always protected her when the two of you were living on the road outside the walls, and always loved her despite her shenanigans. And Daryl, the man who at first had been kind of mean, but was now always there for both her and her mom. The man who undeniably had started to feel like a daddy to her.
“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” Hazel mumbled, her eyes closing and she drifted into slumber. In seconds, she was out cold.
Time froze for a moment. Daryl’s eyes widened and his heart practically pounded out of his chest. There was no way that he had heard it right. There was no way that Hazel had just called him dad. There was no way that Hazel trusted and loved him enough to see him as her father. She couldn’t, could she?
He turned to look at you and noticed the unreadable expression on your face. You didn’t address what she had just said, however, and Daryl was too nervous to bring it up himself.
“We should probably let her sleep,” you whispered to him, motioning towards the door.
“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and followed you out the door.
Together, the two of you descended down the stairs and back into the dining room. You turned to look at Daryl and motioned towards the living room.
“You can wait in the living room. I just wanna put the dishes in the sink and then I’ll join you.”
“Nah, let me help,” Daryl protested, moving over to grab all the dishes. Before you could protest, Daryl walked into the kitchen. You quickly followed behind him and watched him put the dishes in the sink, but before he could start washing them, you quickly stopped him.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll wash them tomorrow,” you assured him. “Do you want some wine?”
Daryl nodded and hummed, silently observing as you grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, as well as a bottle of wine. You placed the glasses on the counter before popping the the bottle open, pouring the two of you each a glass of wine. You handed him the glass and propped yourself onto the counter, letting your legs swing below you.
Daryl leaned against the counter and took a sip of his wine, humming in approval at the taste. “S’good. Thanks.”
“It’s nothing, really. I've been wanting a reason to open the bottle for a while now.”
“Ya can’t jus’ drink it whenever ya want?” Daryl questioned, taking another sip from the glass in his hand.
“I could, but I prefer not to. I don’t want to be like—” you started, but abruptly stopped. You hurriedly took a sip of your wine, welcoming the taste in your mouth.
“Like who?” Daryl asked, frowning at the uncomfortable look on your face.
You hesitated for a long moment, not sure if you should tell Daryl about your past problems. You were afraid that Daryl would look at you differently if you revealed anything. However, as you looked into his eyes, you only saw care and concern, so you found yourself confiding in him.
“Hazel’s father,” you revealed, pursing your lips at the thought of the man you hated more than anything in the world.
“What was he like?” Daryl asked, placing his glass down on the counter. He turned his full attention to you, his eyes trailing over your face for any shift in emotion.
“He was a fucking asshole,” you spat angrily, clenching your jaw in anger. “He was a raging alcoholic and a frequent drug user. He didn’t even stop when Hazel was born. If anything, it got worse. I tried so hard to get him sober, but nothing worked. He always yelled at me and threatened to hurt Hazel whenever I brought it up, but I stayed. I was too scared to leave. And then one day, when I woke up, he was just... Gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. Hazel was barely one year old.”
Daryl frowned deeply, anger bubbling inside him at the thought of someone hurting you and Hazel so badly. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had no right to get angry. That wasn’t something that happened to him.
“Not too long after that, the world went to shit. His sister came to pick us up and took us to her camp, and that’s where I saw that asshole again. He treated Hazel so badly and got the other people in the camp to taunt and be mean to her. Hazel didn’t even do anything wrong, and I never even brought up the fact that she was his kid, but they all ganged up on her. Thankfully it never got physical, but I could tell that it really scarred her. It went on until the camp got overrun, and all of those fuckers got what they deserved. The only reason Hazel and I got out was because his sister helped us. She sacrificed herself for us. After that, Hazel and I were on our own for more than a year. I’m surprised that I managed to keep us alive for that long on my own, but I managed. And then Aaron and Eric found us, and the rest is history.”
Daryl was speechless. It angered him that someone would hurt you like that, would hurt little Hazel like that. And the fact that you had to survive on your own for that long... It amazed him. He wished that he could’ve found you earlier and have protected you and Hazel from all those horrors, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only ensure that nothing ever touched you in the future.
“Yer a strong woman. The fact that ya went through all’a that and managed to keep Hazel alive and love her unconditionally proves that. Yer amazing and I hope ya know that.”
You were taken aback by the sudden confession, but a smile soon spread across your face. You hopped off the counter and stood in front of him, almost chest to chest. You looked up at him, your faces close enough to close the remaining distance between your lips. You didn’t even fully know why you did that. It was more than likely liquid courage, you figured.
“You’re amazing too. I don’t think you realize how much you mean to Hazel, how much you mean to me.”
With that, you closed the remaining distance between your lips. You pressed your lips against his softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. After a moment of shock, Daryl kissed you back feverishly, pulling you closer by your hips to have you flush against his body. You gasped against his lips, allowing Daryl to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his mouth and pressed yourself harder against him, eliciting a groan from the man.
As soon as you pulled away for air, you tugged Daryl by the lapel of his vest. “Wanna take this to my room?” you whispered, breathless from the ravenous kiss.
“What ‘bout Hazelnut? Won’t she wake up?” Daryl asked, pressing his forehead against yours.
“No. She’s out cold. The chances of her waking up are basically nonexistent.”
Daryl let out a deep breath and nodded, allowing you to pull him up the stairs. The two of you soon stumbled into your room, hurriedly closing the door and pawing at each other’s clothes. However, when you reached for Daryl’s shirt, he stopped you, a pained look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, a worried look on your face. “Did I do something wrong?”
Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ya didn’t do nothin’.”
“Then what’s wrong?” you asked him, gently cupping his cheek in your hand. “Talk to me. I promise I won’t judge.”
Daryl inhaled sharply. “I didn’t have a good childhood,” was all he offered before slowly removing his shirt.
Your eyes hungrily trailed over his body, your hands reaching forward to press against his chest. Sure, a few scars littered his chest, but they didn’t repulse you. You didn’t understand what Daryl was talking about until you got a glimpse of his back in the mirror in your room. The scars on his back were jagged and raised, and you instantly knew what they meant; someone had hurt this perfect man before you, and you felt so angry.
You walked behind him. “May I?” you whispered, your hands hovering over his back.
Daryl hesitantly nodded. You softly ran your fingers over his scars, your touch feathery light. The archer shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes at the feeling. Before meeting you, the only feeling that he ever associated with his back was pain from his father’s cruelty, yet there you were, tracing over his scars as if they were priceless paintings in a museum.
Soon your fingers were replaced with your lips, and Daryl’s eyes flew open. Your lips softly kissed over his scars, trailing down to the lowest scars on his lower back. When you were done, you turned him around to face you. You gently cupped his cheek, a small smile on your face.
“You're perfect to me, Daryl. You’re so sweet, kind and caring. Hell, my daughter called you dad. That says plenty.”
“M’perfect?”
“You're perfect.”
That was all you had to say for Daryl to pull you into another fiery kiss. The two of you soon toppled onto your bed, spending a night filled with passion together.
That next morning when Hazel woke up and walked into your room, she was pleasantly surprised to find Daryl sleeping there, holding you, her mama. She was, however, confused that when she woke the two of you up, you clutched the sheets to your bodies and refused to let her climb under them with you like you normally would do.
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Two years later...
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Hazel. Happy birthday to you!”
You and Daryl cheered as Hazel blew out the candles on her homemade cake. Hazel laughed as she struggled to blow out the last one of the five candles on the cake, eliciting soft chuckles from you and Daryl. When she finally managed to extinguish it, you and Daryl each handed her a gift. She clapped her hands excitedly. She got up from her seat and ran to hug you and Daryl, which you both returned.
“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy,” she thanked with a big smile, eyeing the wrapped gifts on the table.
“Dun’ thank us yet, Hazelnut,” Daryl responded with a smile. “Go ahead and open ‘em.”
Hazel hurriedly opened each of the gifts and gasped with delight, holding up a colouring book, new crayons, and a new doll. She giggled in excitement at the gifts. “Can I go show these to Judith? We can colour and play dolls together now!”
You laughed and nodded. “Sure, Baby. Just be good for Auntie Michonne and Uncle Rick, okay?”
“Okay!” she agreed and took off in a run, throwing the front door open and disappearing out of it.
“I can’t believe she’s growin’ up so fast,” Daryl mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his chin on the top of your head.
“I know, right? She’ll be moving away from home for college soon enough,” you joked.
“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, chuckling at your joke.
“Oh!” you exclaimed, turning around in the archer's arms. “I got something for you, too.”
“For me?” he asked in confusion, frowning slightly. “Why? It ain’t my birthday for another couple’a months.”
“I know, but this can’t wait that long. Here,” you told him, handing him a small box.
Daryl gingerly took the box from your hands and opened it. His eyes widened at the item inside, picking it up and looking at it. After examining it for a couple of moments, he confirmed that his mind indeed wasn’t playing a trick on him—it was a positive pregnancy test.
“Yer—Yer pregnant?” he asked, a smile spreading over his face.
“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding your head. A laugh escaped you when Daryl picked you up and spun you around, before he placed you back on the ground and pulled you into a kiss.
When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours. “Hazelnut’s gon’ have a baby sibling. We’re gon’ have another kid.”
“We are,” you agreed, closing your eyes. “I love you, Daryl.”
Daryl placed a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I love ya, too. And I already love that lil’ peanut in yer belly.”
“Hazelnut and Peanut, huh?”
“Yeah. Our two babies. Our own lil’ family,” Daryl told you wistfully, placing his hand on your stomach, over the life that was growing there.
“We have Hazel to thank for this. If she didn’t instantly like you back then, this might never have happened,” you told him, placing your hand over his.
“Remind me to thank her when she gets back later. But for now, let’s enjoy our alone time,” Daryl replied suggestively, tugging you with him as he walked backwards towards the stairs.
“I like that idea.”
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liliesdiary · 2 months
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Waking Up Daryl Dixon
Summary: you thank the older man for saving your life in a special way..
Words: 1.8k
Warning: slight dubcon, throat fucking, somnophilia, mention of bruises, age gap, reader is not Hershel's daughter but a daughter of a farmer, Hershel and the Greene's don't exist in this fic and they seek shelter on a different farm, Sophia isn't lost and Carl isn't shot (I'm sorry if this isn't good.. I haven't written smut in a while..)
✧₊⁺ : @taylormarieee @dustbunniess @silk-spun @hannahkay-411 @lanadelreykt @sinsandsweetness @star-wrote @may82007 @love-norman @dollyfl1rt @versatilehater @2svnder
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You weren't an innocent farm girl but everyone thought you were. The girl that picked berries and danced in the stream by your father's farm. Ever since the apocalypse you were never able to dance in the stream alone again, your father never let you. A strange group sought to take shelter shortly after the apocalypse began, there were several of them but there was this one man that caught your eye. He looked a bit dirty yet you didn't mind, his muscles were covered in dirt yet it made you want him. You always loved a masculine man, one that could take care of you and isn't afraid to get dirty.
They spent days at your farm, you baked and served them food daily out of the kindness of your heart but one of the main reasons was to get closer to him. You learnt that his name was Daryl Dixon and that he had recently lost his brother. He was never with his group, he always looked so lonely. You wanted to comfort him. You always tried to get closer to his little camp outside your farm near the stream. You baked him sweets and left them by his tent since he never wanted to talk to you. You asked your father if you could visit the stream again if Daryl could watch you. Your kind father asked Daryl if he could watch you for him, Daryl hesitated at first but agreed.
You were excited and out of your most see through dress, you basically hopped to the stream like a cute bunny. You saw the man watching you from afar, he looked interested. You saw the way he looked at you, the way he scanned your body in that see through dress of yours. You went into the water and pretended like you didn't notice the man staring at you. You hummed and played with your hair, you danced and closed your eyes as you enjoyed the nice water.
That wet white dress hugged tightly around your body, making the shy man blush, he continued to stare as his pants grew tighter around his bulge. Your tits were bouncing as you danced, of course that was your intention. Your nipples hardened as he watched you, staring at your nipples that were begging to be touched and played with. He wanted to take you right there and fuck you into the mud, stain your pretty white dress and tear it right off of you. He got closer to the stream, you pretended to not notice as you bent down to touch the water, that see through dress hid nothing.
He got closer and closer, he was so in a trace with your body that he didn't realize there was a walker getting closer to you as well. He snapped out of it and grabbed his knife and drove it hard into the walker's skull, you gasped and fell into the water, staring at the muscular man and his knife that was covered in walker skull bits and blood. You have never been so turned on in your life.
“Are ye okay, pumpkin?” The man asked you as he held you up, his calloused hand wrapped around your pretty waist.
“Yes, thank you sir, thank you for saving my life.”, you thanked him as you stared into his dark blue eyes. Your body was hungry for him.
“No need to thank me, sweet girl.”, he looked at your soft breasts through your wet dress and gulped. You looked down and noticed a cut on his hand that was already bandaged yet looked infected.
“What happened to your hand? Let my father treat you sir, it's what he would want after you just saved my life, please let me take you inside.” you grabbed his hand gently and wanted to kiss it.
“It's okay, I don't need any help.” he says as he withdrew his hand away and turnt back to his camp, you stopped him and begged him once again, “please sir, it looks infected, it could get worse. let my father treat you please, he wouldn't mind.”
Daryl paused for a second, looking at your pretty eyes that softened his heart. “Fine, let's go before another walker comes.”
You smiled and led him back to your house, you told your father that he had saved you, he gladly gave Daryl the guest room and treated his hand, thanking him for saving his daughter. He wasn't very talkative yet accepted the room. He slept in there peacefully, he didn't want to admit it but the soft cold bed was so much better than his tent away from everyone. He kept thinking about you, the young farm girl, he touched himself to the thought of you. He always thought you were nice, bringing him sweets yet he didn't believe you were genuine at first. He thought you were just pretending to care for him, yet when he stared into your beautiful eyes as you were worried about his wound, he fell in love.
You baked him sweets again the next morning, you wanted to wake him up to a thank you treat. You walked in without knocking and saw him peacefully asleep. You quietly walked closer and thought of another way to thank him for saving your life. You closed the door and locked it, you were never allowed to lock the doors in the house yet you wanted this badly. You took off your clothes and the cold air in the room made your nipples hard. You crawled onto the floor slowly and slowly took the blanket off of him. He already had a bulge, a wet dream perhaps?
You hoped it was about you, you saw the way he stared at you, getting closer as you pretended to not notice. You knew he wanted to fuck you. You were no virgin, you weren't innocent. One of the things you loved the most in the word was getting fucked, especially getting fucked by men older than you. You touched his bulge gently, making him groan in his sleep.
You licked his clothed bulge, you can feel it twitching against your wet tongue. You slowly pulled his zipper down, reaching into his pants and pulling his cock out. It was big, bigger than what you usually can take yet this wasn't gonna stop you from getting what you want. You started to lick his hard cock, he was hairy yet you didn't mind, you loved the smell of a man.
He groaned at the sensation of your tongue against his hardened member, squirming in his sleep and moaning. You smiled and looked at him lustfully. He turned over to his side, his hardened cock closer to your face. Your wet cunt was dripping all over the floor. You grabbed his cock and started to jerk him off into your mouth, licking the tip and slowly taking him into your mouth. He tasted so good, you wanted more. You took his whole cock into your mouth, you can feel the tip touching the back of your throat. You wanted nothing more than for him to wake up and fuck your throat.
His eyes start to open, moaning at the feeling of your warm throat. He gasps and his eyes widen at the sight of your naked body on the floor for him, taking his cock slowly into your mouth. You give him a small smile, licking his cock as he moans.
“What the hell are ya doing? Yer dad would kill me for this.” He says as he moans and squirms.
“Please sir, I just want to thank you for saving my life. Please let me thank you, please use me however you want. My dad won't know sir.” You say with your eyes that scream fuck me.
He hesitates, you were impatient and dripping all over the floor. You climbed on top of him, “Please sir, I know you want me.” You grab his rough hand and make him touch your soft breasts that were yearning for his touch.
He groans at the sight of your body so close to his, his hardened cock stood tall between you two. He stared at your pretty lips, they would look so pretty covered in his cum, he thought. He knew he shouldn't do this but his lust won and he grabbed your neck gently and kissed your lips roughly. He noticed your hair was nicely braided, he grabbed your braids and told you to get back on the floor. He stood up and took his pants off, desperately wanting to be down your throat already. You stuck your tongue out as you waited for him to fuck your throat.
He grabbed your braids and fucked your throat, gently at first yet slowly getting more rough with each thrust into your warm throat. “Fuck.” He groans. “Ya feel so fuckin good.”
Your doe eyes stare at him as he bruised the back of your throat, you missed this so much, this is what you needed, to be used as a fuck doll by him. He pounded your throat as he held onto your braids, your pink ribbons were being pulled on as well, using them as handles for your pretty little head as he ruined you. You gagged and your pretty little bambi eyes form tears, you loved this.
Your gags were like music to his ears, making him get harder and harder. The sight of your pretty little eyes crying, your soft breasts bouncing with each rough thrust, the sounds of your gags and the struggle to breathe made him get lost in his pleasure. Your tongue roamed around his cock as he let go of your braids and grabbed your skull. your ribbons had fallen off and fell onto the floor, his hands were so big around your skull it made your pussy drip even more. His grip around your skull was tight as he pounded into you.
His body twitched with each thrust, his soft moans grew louder as he got closer. He came deep inside your throat, causing you to gag yet you knew to be a good girl and to swallow. His warm seed tasted good and you swallowed as much as you could. Precum and cum stained your pretty baby pink plump lips as he pulled out, cum was dripping from your chin and nose. You both pant as he grabs your chin gently and stares at your face covered in his cum.
“You're such a good girl, such a naughty little slut.” He says as he stares at your pretty face, spreading his warm cum all over your face with his thumb.
“Thank you sir, can we please do this again?”, you say as you start to get dressed, you can hear your dad coming inside the house. Your throat was in pain and you loved it, most likely bruised too and you loved bruises.
“Of course, little doll. Come back again tonight and i'll stretch that wet hole of yours, your wet cunt dripping all over the floor is begging to be fucked anyways.”
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When Eddie sees her, sitting on the picnic table, her feet shuffling back and forth on the bench like that one dancing scene from The Breakfast Club (so what if he went to go see it? It's a good flick!), he almost runs back the way he came.
Because here's the thing about Robin Buckley.
While Eddie's status at the bottom of the social ladder is guaranteed, what with his hobbies and his music and his ability to irritate even the most patient of individuals (bar Uncle Wayne, blessed be the man), he doesn't fuck with Robin Buckley.
She was never anything to write home or gossip over coffee about, not when Eddie started his first senior year or even before that, when he was just starting up Hellfire and went to band to see if he could recruit any lonesome souls. Robin wasn't interested then, more keen to avoid his eye and fumble with her uniform, so he chalked her up as another lost to the masses.
Then all the shit with the Zombie Boy (a killer moniker, wouldn't that make for an awesome song title?! But he doesn't know if it'd be like, copyright infringement or whatever) went down and he got a little more protective of his circle, cloaking them from the unmerciful eyes of the Hawkins mob, pushing back when shit hit the fan and that mob tried impeding on his people.
And it worked! Nobody messed with him or his, not enough to be met with more than a snort - hell, even that asshole Hargrove stayed away after Eddie pulled a knife on him in the school parking lot. He wonders if all that wild anger the dick had to choke down went into the fight he had with -
Anyways.
Point is that Eddie knows his place, and thanks to a little intimidation and a lot of false-turned-true-confidence, nobody messes with him.
The thing is - he still doesn't mess with Robin Buckley.
Like he said, she was always another one of the masses to him, and he never expected any different.
But then something happened to her.
Some people say that she got trapped in the mall fire and it burned half her face off, she's just wearing enough makeup to cover it up, but it messed with her head.
Other people say she was always a little - uh, airheaded, he'll say, to be polite - and the Starcourt fire just made it more obvious, burned through the façade she'd wear in public.
One or two voices whisper that she's being haunted, that when she laughs to herself in the silence of the classroom, it's because of the spirits of Starcourt's casualties that lurk in her shadow.
(That last one was Jeff actually, and Eddie has to hand it to him for the poetic imagery.)
Any way he hears it, Eddie's instincts go red alert, telling him to give Robin a wide berth in the hallways, to avoid eye contact for longer than a single moment, to ignore her quiet snickers every time he ties his hair up.
So yeah, when he's about to head to his favourite picnic table and finds wacky Robin Buckley laughing to herself as the leaves around the table kick up without a hint of wind in the air, he almost turns around and shoves himself back into his van. Eddie Munson may be a freak but he's no -
"Oh, you're here."
He freezes in his steps, glancing back to see Robin smiling thinly at him, one legged crossed over the other as she leans back. Her eyes glaze over for a second before she barks out a laugh, making Eddie jump in place.
"Didn't expect you, to be honest." She tilts her head.
Eddie's throat is too dry. He starts a sentence, backtracking when the leaves stop kicking up and it's just his shaky voice in the silence between the trees. "Well, it is my spot, Buckley."
Her eyes glint and she uncrosses her legs just to spread them, leaning in and staring at Eddie with an untethered expression stretching across her face. "Is it?" Her raspy voice asks.
Blood roars in Eddie's ears. His fingers twitch, and he's ready to run.
"Don't." She orders and he freezes. "We need to talk."
He hates it when people say that. It's always, always bad news and it's just too cliché.
"And what, pray tell," he says, raising his arms out with a confidence he doesn't feel. "Is it that you could ask of me?"
The leaves kick up behind him. He resolutely ignores it.
Sighing, Robin crosses her legs, shuffling back on the table (and they call Eddie a heathen, jeez). She looks to the right, where the leaves are swirling in a mini tornado. Her smile is small, and a little sad.
"We need your help."
Eddie gasps as the leaves kick up ferociously, the wind bites at his fingertips and Robin glares at him, at the chaos around them with eyes like nothing he's ever seen.
"Stop it."
"Wh -"
"I said stop," She glares at him and his jaw clicks shut. "We agreed - yeah, yeah, we did! Stop it, you're scaring him!"
"I -"
"I'd say the grown-ups are talking," Robin cuts him off with an eye-roll. "But someone's being a big baby."
"Look, Buckley -"
"I swear to god," Robin waves a hand towards Eddie. "Either you play nice, or we're never figuring this out! Do you wanna be invisible to everyone forever?!"
There's a heavy silence at that.
No leaves rustling, no wind, no nothing.
It's like the entire forest just went...dead.
Then Eddie feels a brush of something down his hand and he screams.
"Awesome!" Eddie jumps when Robin grabs his arm (when did she leave the table?!), staring at her smile as foul terror quakes his bones. "Don't be afraid, Eddie. We won't hurt you."
A rustle of leaves smack his shin and he shrieks, unable to jump (or run) thanks to Robin's steel grip.
"Well, not physically."
"Buckley, I have never messed with you before," Eddie whispers as the something trails down his hand, shoulders and face. He's frozen in the wake of the touch. "Fellow freaks of Hawkins and all, but -"
Whatever it is, it grips Eddie by the shoulders and his jaw clicks shut. Robin's grasp on his arm tightens and she nods, staring into space.
"Okay, so could you do it?"
Silence. Eddie's heartbeat races.
"Like what?"
The something ghosts over his fingers and he almost whimpers.
"Oh, like this!"
With that, Robin grabs Eddie's hand and takes off one of his rings. Before he can sputter or shout or cry, she replaces it with one of her own.
And then, like he was always there, Steve Harrington appears before his eyes.
A bloodied, ghastly Steve Harrington who's staring right into him.
"Holy shit," Eddie whispers and the spectre grins a sharp, toothy grin.
"Hey Munson," Steve croons. "Miss me?"
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moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt
FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33
Thank you gorgeous!
cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal
(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 
“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 
Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 
“Overruled,” he decrees. 
Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 
“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 
“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 
“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 
“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 
It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 
James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 
An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 
“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 
“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 
The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 
“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 
You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 
Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 
Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 
“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 
James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 
You sigh. “I figured.” 
“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 
You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 
You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 
James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his touch down your neck. 
“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 
You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 
“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 
“Wasn’t ready for what?” 
“To be sick.” 
The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 
“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 
When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 
“What is it?” James asks. 
“Thirty nine point five.” 
They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 
“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 
“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius has the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 
None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 
“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 
James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 
“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 
“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 
Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 
“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”
It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 
“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 7 months
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Hey
Can you write a one shot where Bucky and reader have a daughter. One day when reader and their little daughter are at home and Bucky is at the compound or on a mission, reader accidentally hurts herself. She says something like this to the daughter :"Don't tell daddy." But later when Bucky comes home she says something to Bucky and he immediately gets worried. And then maybe some cuddle time with the Barnes Family.
Thank you in advance 💗
Mommy Hurt » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Husband/Dad/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Daisy
Summary: Bucky gets worried when he finds out from his daughter that Y/N got hurt while he was on a mission.
Warnings: Fluff, language, small injury, brief mention of blood, hugs and kisses, cuddling, uses of nicknames/pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @lives-in-midgard 🩵 I had fun writing this🥰
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Yours and Bucky’s 3 year old daughter Daisy comes running in the kitchen with a piece of paper in her hands. “Look what I draw!” She says, holding the picture up for you to see.
“It’s beautiful, sweetie. Tell me about.” You say, looking down at her.
“This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me.” She says, point to each stick figure in the picture.
You were trying your best to do the dishes and pay attention to what Daisy was saying which probably wasn’t the best idea, because the next thing you know, you felt a sharp pain in your hand. You gasped and dropped the knife you had in your other hand in the sink, clutching your hand in your other one.
“Mommy?” Daisy tapping on your leg. “What happened?” She asks, looking up at you.
“I-I’m fine, baby.” You tried your best to not cry in front of your daughter. “Mommy cut herself.” You tell her.
You slowly opened your hand to see a small cut on the palm of your hand with a little bit of blood coming out of it. You grabbed a kitchen towel that was next to the sink and put it on your hand, applying pressure.
“Mommy have a boo boo?” Daisy asks.
“Just a little one.” You say.
You crouched down to her height and gave her a hug.
“Don’t tell daddy.” You tell her.
“No tell daddy.” She says.
“Good girl.” You smiled and kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go watch cartoons in the living room and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You tell her.
“Ok, mommy!” Daisy says, running off to the living room.
You went to the bathroom and got the first aid kit out from underneath the sink. You cleaned out the cut with alcohol and wrapped some gauze around it and taped it with medical tape. You put the first aid kit away and went to the living room to see that Daisy put on Barbie. You took a seat next to her and watched it with her.
A couple days later, Bucky came home from a week long mission. Bucky frowns in confusion when he didn’t see you and Daisy greet him immediately like the two of you normally do.
“Where are my girls?” Bucky’s voice echos through the house.
Bucky heard Daisy’s little footsteps running towards him.
“Daddy!” Daisy says excitedly.
“There’s my baby girl!” Bucky says happily as he picked up Daisy.
Bucky gave her a bunch of hugs and kisses, making her giggle.
“Mommy hurt.” She tells him.
“What?” Bucky felt his heart drop, thinking that something bad happened to you while he was on the mission. “Where is mommy?” He asks her.
“Kitchen.” Daisy says, pointing towards the kitchen.
Bucky walks in the kitchen with Daisy in his arms to see you putting groceries away.
“Bucky, you’re home!” You smile widely and hugged him.
“Are you ok?” Bucky asks with worry in his voice.
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked.
“Daisy told me you got hurt.” He says.
“I told her not to tell you.” You say, looking at your daughter.
“Sowwy, mommy.” Daisy says, feeling bad.
“It’s ok, sweetie.” You say, moving a piece of hair from her face.
Daisy tapped on Bucky’s shoulder, telling him that she wants down. When Bucky put her down, she ran to her play room.
“Show me.” He says.
“Babe, it’s nothing.” You say.
“Doll…” He says.
You sighed and took the gauze off of your left hand and showed him the cut on the palm of your hand that was starting to scab up. Bucky gently took your hand in his and inspected it.
“How did you cut yourself?” Bucky asks.
“I was doing the dishes while looking at a picture Daisy drew and I cut myself with a knife.” You explained.
Bucky felt relieved, knowing that you’re fine. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly, making you smile. Then he kissed you passionately.
“How about I properly patch up your hand.” Bucky says.
Bucky led you upstairs to yours and his bedroom. You took a seat on the bed while Bucky got the first aid kit from the bathroom. He came out of the bathroom and sat down next to you. He cleaned it with alcohol and wrapped it with gauze, also making sure it wasn’t too tight and tapped it with medical tape. He brought your hand up to his lips again and kissed it softly.
“Better?” Bucky asks.
“All better.” You say, leaning forward to kiss him.
“I’m taking you to the Compound tomorrow so Bruce can take a look at it.” He says.
“Fine.” You say with a playful pout.
Bucky kisses your lips once more, but the kiss was interrupted when Daisy came running in the bedroom.
“Hey!” Daisy shouts, getting yours and Bucky’s attention. “Up!” She says, doing grabby hands at her daddy.
You and Bucky smiled at her cuteness. Bucky picked her up and placed her in between the two of you.
“I draw something!” Daisy shows you and Bucky a picture. “This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me. Me and Pine Pine are superheros like daddy in this one.” She tells you guys.
“It’s beautiful, princess.” Bucky says, kissing the top of her head.
You guys heard Alpine meow loudly as she jumped up on the bed. You guys gave Alpine some lovings before laying down with Daisy in between you and Bucky and Alpine on the pillow next to Bucky’s head.
“I wuv you, daddy. I wuv you, mommy.” Daisy says, kissing yours and Bucky’s cheeks.
“We love you too, baby.” You and Bucky say, kissing her cheeks.
Bucky turned on Barbie for Daisy while you guys cuddled for the rest of the night. Bucky couldn’t ask for anything better than this.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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boysborntodie · 9 months
Text
Details from The Outsiders you may have forgotten or missed
-Cherry doesn't appear after the hearing (her not waving Ponyboy is just a movie thing)
-Ponyboy fucking hates people with green eyes so bad and gets pissed when someone points out he also has green eyes
-Steve always combs his hair into complicated swirls
-The Greasers always play football together
-Soda is one of the only Greasers who never gets drunk
-He also doesn't smoke unless something is bothering him or he wants to look tuff
-Darry, on the other hand, never smokes because it would affect his perfect body which he is very proud of
-Darry is also proud of being smart and sensible
-Ponyboy is the heaviest smoker out of the Curtis family
-Johnny started smoking at 9 and Steve at 11
-Johnny would've run away from Tulsa if it weren't for the gang
-Soda gives killer massages
-Ponyboy's razor wasn't working while he had to dissect a frog so he just took out his knife
-Darry goes skiing with some of his old friends sometimes
-Cherry and Marcia barrel race often and are pretty good at it
-Soda used to ride in rodeos but after breaking a ligament, his dad made him quit
-Sometimes Soda and Steve let Ponyboy help them fix the cars at the DX
-Johnny is the most law-abiding of the gang, and didn't even carry a knife until the Socs jumped him
-Cherry has an older brother
-Ponyboy used to have a yeller cur dog
-Johnny's scar his from his temple to his cheekbone (it's huge and also hard to look at)
-Two-Bit is great at doing impressions
-Two-Bit often raises one eyebrow, and the gang associate the gesture with him
-Dally and the Curtis mother got along well before she died
-Ponyboy is a scarily good liar
-Ponyboy notes that while he sees Johnny as a scared puppy, he actually looks rather hardened and cold to a stranger
-Johnny's skin is lighter under his bangs
-When at the church, Johnny puts his jean jacket over Ponyboy while he went out to get groceries
-Steve, Dally and Two-Bit wouldn't have thought of buying soap at a grocery store
-Ponyboy calls himself a Pepsi addict
-Dally hardly ever cuts his hair
-Johnny loves drag races
-The Curtis Dad took the brothers out hunting often in the country
-Ponyboy has the best aim but hates shooting
-Dally heard of the old church from a cousin
-Ponyboy is the youngest person on the track team but still one of the fastest
-Darry was the closest to their dad
-Steve once called Darry 'all brawn ans no brains' which made Darry made because it reminded him of the fact he didn't go to college
-Darry will suddenly pick up a random Greasers and swings them around
-The Curtis Dad used to call Soda 'Pepsi-Cola'
-The Shepard gang and the Curtis gang have fought seriously on at least on occasion (but it's nothing compared to the rumble)
-The Curtis brothers stayed at the hospital all night for Johnny and Dally until a doctor forced them to leave
-Johnny has a clean police record
-Ponyboy chews his fingernails when nervous
-Johnny often sleeps at Two-Bit's house
-The Curtis brothers all have huge appetites
-Darry always checks Ponyboy's Math homework for mistakes
-Johnny looks like his mother; having the same black hair, dark eyes and tiny built/height
-Soda did actually try really hard to stay in school but he kept failing
-Darry and Ponyboy both enjoyed school and athletics while Soda isn't into either
-The only thing Dally did honestly was jockeying
-Johnny really good at poker (or Ponyboy is really bad)
-The only time Johnny has been confident and not scared in his life, was when rescuing the kids in the church
-Johnny actually gets hurt because he pushed Ponyboy out first of the church
-Sodapop loves attention and was good with the reporters
-Sodapop has a crazy sweet tooth
-The Curtis brothers all love chocolate
-Darry never locks the front door in case one of the gang need a place to stay
-Ponyboy once found Tim Shepard sitting on their couch reading the newspaper
-Ponyboy thinks that Two-Bit wouldn't have gone inside the church if he was there
-Two Bit wished that the one hurt was anybody but Johnny and that the gang would have still been able to get along had it been anyone else
-Darry once took an aerobatics course and taught all the Greasers everything he knew
-Soda and Two-Bit were doing aerobatics and then got arrested for disturbing the peace
-The Curtis gang are noted to be better at fighting than the Shepard gang
-Tim Shepard looked like a model from the magazines Ponyboy reads
-Ponyboy notes that sweat ran down Dally's face when Johnny died, but it was probably tears
-Cherry drives a Sting Ray
-Curly once slipped off a telephone poll and broke his arm
-Johny's a good listener and all the members of the gang often go to tell him about their day or their problems
-Johnny says in his letter that the lives of kids were worth more than his
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