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quizzicalwriter · 11 months

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omg could u do a fic where dallas has been trying to call y/n all day only to find out that she’s sick and he takes care of her

Fever

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas hasn’t seen you all day, so he drops by uninvited. Don’t worry, he’ll take care of you - the best he can, anyway.

Warnings: None! Fluff and cute Dallas.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.5k

It was an agonizingly hot Friday morning, one where you’d spent the better part of your morning resting your cheek against the cool porcelain of your bathroom sink instead of getting ready. The morning whirled on around you, radio softly humming from your bedroom where you’d begrudgingly slapped at your alarm clock, somehow failing to turn it off but being too tired to do anything other than stagger toward the bathroom.

You somehow managed to take care of your necessities while the weatherman droned on about the lovely temperatures, you groaned in response - either he was lying, or you were getting sick. The thought had crossed your mind yesterday when you’d hardly been able to concentrate as an older woman asked for another cup of coffee, too preoccupied with the overwhelming exhaustion settling heavy in your bones and the pounding headache that’d made its home in the back of your skull - neither of which had faded over the night.

Stubbornness ran deep, and it certainly did in you. So you decided to disregard the nausea settling in your stomach as you got yourself dressed, only dry-heaving once as you started the trek to your workplace. Usually, you’d call Dallas to drive you to and fro - not that you needed him to, it was only a fifteen-minute walk, but he insisted and you weren’t one to deny a free ride. But the thought of getting into a car and breathing in cigarette smoke only soured your stomach more, so you walked alone and clocked in for your shift only five minutes late.

The hours passed, time murky as your brain swelled within your skull, pressing against the confines of bone as you scrawled down another order for coffee and eggs. You’d been halfway into your shift before your manager pulled you aside, concern written over his face as he helped you to sit down. Your manager wasn’t normally kind, a rugged older man from an era where surviving wasn’t the easiest, and it showed on the lines across his face and the look in his eyes. For him to show you kindness worried you somewhat, but the sweltering of your skin underneath your uniform pushed away any other feeling besides exhaustion.

He drove you home, talking your non-listening ear off about things you could do to ease your fever, and how he’d have your coworker cover your shift. You tried to listen, you really did, but the bumps along the road and the scent of passing restaurants readying their ovens for the day filled the air with an aroma that would’ve been pleasant to anyone who wasn’t currently battling the urge to void their stomach of its contents. He reached your house in less than five minutes, something you were sure was due to him not wanting to catch whatever the hell you’d caught. You gave him a brief nod and wave, one he returned with a smile before peeling off back toward the diner.

You fumbled with your keys, managing to unlock your front door after two failed attempts. Thankfully the air conditioning in your house had kicked on, keeping it much cooler than you’d left it only hours prior. You kicked your shoes off, not bothering to make the small walk to your bedroom in favor of the living room couch that seemed to be calling your name. You collapsed onto the cool leather with a groan, your eyes squeezing shut as you willed yourself to sleep.

What you’d forgotten to do was call Dallas, leaving him alone and frustrated as he watched everyone pour out of the diner. He noticed some of your coworkers, all smiling and laughing amongst each other as they piled into their cars as the next shift trudged toward the building. He flicked the built-up ash off the end of his cigarette, contemplating if it was worth it to go inside, figuring you were likely in the restroom or gathering your stuff.

That was until your manager spotted him, the older man’s brow furrowing as he made his way outside and toward the thunderbird that revved to life enough to annoy the living hell out of him - much to Dallas’s pleasure. Dallas waved the hand he had draped out the window, exhaling a lungful of smoke toward the man as he approached the driver's side.

“She’s sick. I drove her home earlier.”

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, lifting his hand to place his cigarette between his lips as he started the car back up. Your manager jumped back onto the curb as Dallas peeled out of the parking lot, half pissed that you hadn’t bothered to call and half worried that you were so sick that you hadn’t had the energy to do so. Deciding to play on the side of caution, he dropped by the gas station on the way, snagging a few items he’d heard helped - or at least he hoped helped.

He parked along the street, not bothering the fix his parking as the front tire scraped against the edge of the sidewalk. With a hefty paper bag of everything he could manage to grab he made his way toward your front door, only to find it locked. He sighed, tilting his head back to look toward your neighboring houses, ensuring nobody was looking at him as he snuck around the side. He’d been with you long enough to know you always kept your bedroom window unlatched, it was always a mixup of whether it was going to be sweltering or freezing in Tulsa, so you kept it unlatched in case you needed it cracked in the night.

After a quick peek into the darkness that shrouded your bedroom, he pressed the glass upward, grimacing at the wall of cold air that smacked into him as he ducked into your window. Your radio softly played, older music hits that you’d usually have turned off when you woke up in the morning. Dallas sighed, closing the window gently behind him, taking a second to shut off your radio before moving through the frigid house.

“Doll?” He called, worry settling like a pit in his lower stomach. “Got you some stuff.”

When you didn’t reply to his call his worry grew deeper. He sped up his steps, nearly knocking over the bag of medicinal supplies he’d snagged as he tossed the paper bag onto your kitchen counter. His worry faded as he entered your living room, finding you draped over the expanse of your couch, arm draped over the side, fingers skimming the carpet below as you slept.

With a quiet laugh, he moved toward you, whispering a greeting as he scooped you into his arms. His scent was something you recognized instinctually, even in your fever-ridden mind. Your hands grasped at his jacket, face skewed up in a small grimace as he carried you down the hall toward your bedroom. It wasn’t often that Dallas was soft with you, he tried, but he was always a rugged man and it showed in his actions and thoughts.

“Real sick, huh?” He asked, voice barely above a murmur as he shifted near your bed, bending at the hip to help you lay down. You only mustered a nod in reply, body burning and mind nearly numb from the steady headache that coursed through your brain.

Your half-opened eyes watched as he kicked his shoes off, jeans following suit before he moved toward you, gently pushing you toward the center of your bed. You grumbled, causing him to stifle a laugh as he moved beside you, wrapping an arm around your middle.

“Grumpy.” He stated, words closer to a taunt than anything. You hadn’t the energy to fire back as you normally would, so you sufficed with a quick swat to his arm. One he laughed at after feigning being hurt, relenting in his attitude with a soft kiss to your temple. “Proving my point, y’know.”

Despite the nausea souring your stomach, you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your chest at his words. You wanted nothing more than to goof around with him as you normally did, but the most you could muster was a nod and a short-lived smile as you tried to quell your pounding brain with the warmth of his touch.

“Here-“ He huffed out, helping you to turn over. You pouted, your signature move whenever you were forced to do something you didn’t want to do, one that made Dallas roll his eyes. “It’ll help, shut up.”

You were about to complain until his hand slunk underneath your shirt, fingernails gently tracing along your spine. The touch was featherlight, goosebumps following wherever his touch went. An involuntary sigh fell from your lips as you sunk into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut, the only sound besides your breathing being a triumphant laugh from Dallas.

“Learned this from a girl.” He mumbled out through a yawn, the words causing you to look over your shoulder toward him with a scowl. He returned the look with a joking scorn of his own. “I was sixteen. So jealous.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled, scooting closer to him. His thumb brushed against the nape of your neck, fingers smoothing over the curve of your shoulder before trailing his fingertips back down your spine. His touch was soft, so incredibly soft. You’d hardly noticed you were falling asleep until you felt the warmth of your bedsheets pulled over you, followed by a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck.

Hours passed before you woke, at least you gathered it’d been hours due to the moonlight pouring in through your bedroom window and the absence of Dallas beside you. While your headache wasn’t as prominent as it had been earlier, nausea still made itself known in your stomach, seemingly exacerbated by your lack of eating. With a groan you pushed the bedsheets off of yourself, hands wiping the sleep from your eyes as your feet found the cool hardwood floor beneath you.

You’d half expected that Dallas had left, but the thought was wiped from your mind when you’d nearly tripped over his shoes that’d been perched at the end of your bed. As much as you wanted to be irritated over having tripped, you only felt relief over the fact that he’d stayed. The house felt warmer than before, a savory aroma wafting through the air - both most likely Dallas’s doing.

The television sounded from your living room, sports scores echoing down to your bedroom as you walked down the hallway, arms wrapped loosely around your middle. It wasn’t loud enough to be burdensome, roughly the volume you’d keep it whenever you were cooking and didn’t want to miss out on anything. As you rounded the corner into your living area you spotted Dallas in the kitchen, face a perfect picture of focus as he cooked something on your stovetop.

“Hey.” You murmured, causing him to jump. You laughed out an apology as you moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle as you rested your cheek against his back. He was always so warm, it even seemed to help your subtle headache. He reached his hand behind himself to pat your thigh, wordlessly acknowledging you as he continued cooking.

“Got this from the DX, didn’t realize it needed to be cooked.” His voice sounded almost defeated, but by the way the air smelled you gathered he’d done it right. You hummed in reply, placing a short kiss on his back before moving around to inspect his handy work.

“Most food does.” You chided, earning you a grunted-out laugh from Dallas. “It looks good, thank you.”

He gave you a brief smile, leaning over a fraction to grab the now-empty can before handing it to you. Somehow he’d snagged your favorite kind, or at least the type you tolerated the most. You couldn’t remember ever talking about soup with him, but it’d be on par for Dallas to remember something so small.

As if sensing your confusion, he responded with, “Last time you were sick you mentioned liking it. Figured you’d want it, y’know?”

It was sweet, sweet enough to leave you smiling despite the nausea. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, not wanting to kiss his cheek or his lips in case what you had was contagious. He waved you off with feigned annoyance, moving over to your cabinet to grab a bowl before pouring out a serving for you. You peeked over his shoulder, soon taking his place as he moved over to your refrigerator to grab himself something to drink.

Before you could grab the porcelain bowl he’d swooped in front of you, shooting you a dirty look for even having considered carrying a bowl while you were sick. You followed beside him with a scoffed-out laugh, the television soon becoming louder as you both moved to sit down on the same couch you’d passed out on when you’d gotten home.

“Here-“ He muttered, giving you a moment to get yourself comfortable before handing over the bowl along with a water bottle. You gave him a brief smile in return, screwing off the top of the water bottle before downing a few mouthfuls.

You scooted closer to him, legs folded beneath yourself as you spooned some of the still-hot broth into your mouth, eyes glued to the television. He didn’t care enough about being sick to push you away, after all, you’d taken care of him when he’d had the stomach flu for nearly a week, so he let you rest against him as you both watched the game.

“Did you want to go to the doctor?” He asked after a moment, gaze flickering down to you. You thought for a moment before shaking your head, cooling off another spoonful of broth. He sighed, eyes rolling as he returned his attention to the television with a quiet, “Stubborn ass.”

“Expensive.” You retorted through a laugh. “Besides, I probably have the flu or a stomach bug. Don’t want to waste money on it.”

He lifted his hips then, freeing his wallet from his back pocket before plopping the leather down into your lap. You leaned forward, placing your bowl onto the coffee table before fumbling with his wallet. Whenever you’d come into financial trouble, Dallas had always been able to help. You’d never questioned it, knowing that he did risky things for money and to simply survive.

“Dallas-“ You started, finding your words quickly cut off with a hush from Dallas. He looked over to you, hand moving to brush back your hair as he responded with a gentle, “I’ve got it, don’t worry about it.”

That was that, you knew him well enough to know there was no use arguing with him. You were both stubborn, especially when it came to each other. You leaned up onto your knees, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw before retrieving your bowl, and settling back into his side.

“I’ll pay you back.” You replied, words earning you a gruff laugh as Dallas shook his head.

“Just let me take care of you, doll.”

You relented, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you fought back a smile. You’d find a way to pay him back, maybe not with monetary means, but you’d find a way. For now, you’d savor the feeling of being curled into his side, both of you sucked into a sports game, truly comfortable in each other's presence.

A/N: More fluff!! I hope you guys enjoy this one! Thank you so much for the continued support and love you show me and my work, I appreciate you all so so much!! As always, you can find my work over on AO3 under the username, “Unscriptural.” Thank you again!

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rekino2114 · 1 month

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Yello! Would you do a female sukuna x male reader, where the reader is her reincarnated lover.

Fem. Sukuna with a reincarnated reader

A/n:everyone calls him by his last name anyway so I don't see the need to change his first one (plus I have no idea what I'd change ryomen to) also I'll make yuji a girl in this too cause it would be....uncomfortable to think otherwise. Credit to mochiii on pinterest for the art

Not many people know that during the heian era,sukuna, the queen of curses and the strongest sorcerer in history actually had a husband,someone who was impressively close to her level of strength and that she considered the person worthy of standing beside her as the peak of jujutsu and of her love.

You two lived happily for years, and after meeting kenjaku you decided to split your souls into cursed objects to live forever and be reincarnated together in another era.

While you reincarnated without problems, taking over your vessel easily, apparently, your wife had found the perfect vessel to contain her (thanks kenny) and couldn't completely take over the girl's body only being able to switch briefly.

You were amused that a random non sorcerer girl could give the sukuna that much trouble but you immediately teamed up with your servant uraume to try and help "revive" your lover.

You are quite sad that you only get to see her very rarely. You look forward to the day you can be fully reunited with your love, preferably while surrounded by the bodies of your enemies.

"Uraume, y/n!"

"It's been a while. That was a wonderful fight dear, I see you're still as strong as ever"

"Please, we both know I can do way better. This brat is holding me back If I was at my full strength not even that cursed spirit's ashes would be left"

"I certainly don't doubt that, speaking of your situation our loyal servant here has prepared the ritual to bind you to your vessel, are you ready?"

"Unfortunately, there is something really important I have to do at the moment, my beloved, but don't worry once I take care of everything and slaughter every one of these weaklings we will be together just like old times"

You two share a kiss before sukuna goes to fight mahoraga.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #female sukuna #female sukuna x reader #genderbent sukuna #genderbent sukuna x reader #fem sukuna #fem sukuna x reader #male reader #x male reader #ryomen sukuna

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months

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👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

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

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moody4world · 1 year

Text

In my business pt3

part2

y/n

512.377 views • Liked by jackharlow

y/n TBT TO MY FNF FREESTYLE 😏 @glorillapimp

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glorillapimp 4m

Let’s gooooooo

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luvvr1a 4m

@glorillapimp y’all are fiireeee❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

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shari_n_444 10m

🔥🔥🔥🔥

diorjada 6m

im like 80% of them views 😭 this is so harddd

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everybodyhates_tasha 5m

My toddler started bopping as soon as this video played💀 that’s definitely my child cause this is too damn good

110 likes Reply

sarahlopezs 4m

@everybodyhates_tasha imagine having a toddler while its hot girl summer

everybodyhates_tasha 3m

@sarahlopezs Girl dont do me like that

justlikeamarah 7m

Now y/n i love you but why you lying??? we know you not S I N G L E NO MORE😭

205 likes Reply

sedanyprince 4m

@justlikeamarah CALL HER ASS OUT!!!

❤️ 🙌 🔥 👏 😢 😍 😮 😂

add a comment for y/n…

moodymagazine

Liked by djdrama and 380.47 others

moodymagazine Oh moodies! Last year the Louisville rapper #JackHarlow was seen rapping to #y/n FNF freestyle at the club. Do we think this might have been the start of their rumored romance or is it pure coincidence? Let us know in the comments below! ⬇️ Click the link in our bio or head to our tiktok for the full video.

#moodymagazine

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sneakyshae 3m

man these two never explain shit so we’re gonna be guessing forever unless they post each other

188 likes Reply

liloneder 2m

@sneakyshea You are so right thoooo i hate that about them🙄

jonah.jay 1m

@liloneder yo aint no way your momma named you oneder💀

biglolaa 1m

Yeah but even if they post eachother its gotta be a serious post because them mfs don’t take shit seriously. Always trolling so theyd be perfect together now that i think about it🤔

44 likes Reply

cyabiah 6m

now why tf did urban like this post😭😭😭 its a signnnn

55 likes Reply

❤️ 🙌 🔥 👏 😢 😍 😮 😂

add a comment for moodymagazine…

y/narchive

1.805 likes

y/narchive Y'all, call me crazy but i might as well change my user to y/nandjackarchive cause these fits look pretty similar to me 👀👀👀 AND at the same party... yeah they gotta be together. As long as our girl is happy i have no complaints though i hope there's flicks of them together at that party🤭

#y/n

y/ncloset 10m

omg this is definitely a hinttt, she has been very happy and like relaxed lately so i hope he has something to do with it🥹

3 likes Reply

lennymoris 3m

@y/ncloset RIGHT?! i noticed that tooo

yungkelly 8m

Omg her and central cee are actually over now that makes me so sad cause i ship them BAD but girl got good taste cause jack fine as hell🤤

6 likes Reply

❤️ 🙌 🔥 👏 😢 😍 😮 😂

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jackharlow

Liked by y/n and 111.034 others

View all 1.573 comments

nairobi 12m

WHAT ???? JACKMAN DONT PLAY WITH ME😤

22 likes Reply

taylorthesaylorr 10m

@nairobi NO CAUSE WHAT DOES HE MEAN???? AND THE NO CAPTION TOO

urbanwyatt 7m

and the crowd goes wildski🤪

32 likes Reply

jharlowupdates 6m

Urban tell us the teaaaa

psycholiah 5m

She liked the post nooooooo

13 likes Reply

stacey2dash 3m

@psycholiah i just fell to my knees in walmart

tray_. 1m

Just saw somebody fall to their knees in walmart

bbgrlashly 9m

i recognize that booty anywhere and this is y/n without a doubt man 😩💔im heartbroken rn nobody hit me up

3 likes Reply

zaydadon 7m

@bbgrlashly HAHAHA ASH you so dramatic stop it😭

bbgrlashly 7m

THE WHITE MAN STOLE MY GIRL ZAY😤

missionaryjharlow 4m

not you in your stepdad era now 🤭🫣

m3rcedez 2m

@missionaryjharlow i wonder if he even met them yet and i really wanna know how thats going for him cause her kids dont play abt their dad💀💀

❤️ 🙌 🔥 👏 😢 😍 😮 😂

add a comment for jackharlow…

#jack harlow #central cee #moody4world #moody fics #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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aloneinthehellfire · 4 months

Text

Chapter Seven: We Are The Pariahs

The Pariahs That Saved The World

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: vecna's curse, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, bad father-daughter relationship (story of my life)

[A/N: omg she made it out of her writers block era!!!! I am so so sorry for the long wait on this chapter, I had planned to write it ages ago but felt myself losing part of my creativity (it's a very long story about the trials and tribulations of an arts uni student) but I am trying to make it up to you all by bringing you the most packed chapter yet! And totally not because I was rushing to get to write my favourite part of the series, okay bye]

We Are The Pariahs

You never thought you’d see this room again.

Soft pink walls, almost entirely covered in movie posters and band memorabilia, a fluffy carpet that felt like home beneath your feet. But it wasn’t the room that made your heart beat faster. It was the girl sat on the bed, mascara tears coating her cheeks.

“Heather?” Your voice was small, scared to spook her.

“Y/n? Is that you?”

Her broken voice almost made you run to her, swoop her in your arms, tell her everything was fine.

No, she isn’t real. Y/n… none of this is real.

You were supposed to be stood in the Upside Down, searching for a way out. You had been calling out for Dustin, you saw… you saw something. What did you see?

“Why weren’t you there?”

Heather’s eyes turn dark, her voice dropping to an abnormal pitch. A jolt of fear from your chest settles into a pit of despair in your stomach.

Vecna. You had seen Vecna.

“You… you could have saved me…” Heather’s cheeks were wet with tears, her mascara slithering down her face likes vines. “You weren’t there.”

No mater how hard you tried, no words escaped the lump in your throat. After all, was anything you could say going to stop Vecna?

“I will always hate you for what you did.”

A sob breaks free from your lips, and a smirk etches onto her face, a face slowly peeling away until all that was left was a red and raw face of horror.

“You never let yourself trust your own gut,” Vecna stands from Heather’s bed, creeping closer as you press yourself further into the wall, “Y/n… always the follower…”

“What do you want?” You manage to whisper, turning your face away as his claws begin to rise above you.

“I am giving you one last chance to finally save someone,” He spits, milky white eyes examining yours, “I want you to warn them all, show them…”

His rotten breath fans against your face and you cry, feeling your head tilt back under his control. He leans impossibly closer, seething venomous words into your ear.

“Tell Eleven… or your soul will be next.”

A silent scream leaves you paralysed, eyes wide as something hot pierces your mind.

Flashing images, displays of terror and destruction. You saw your friends, your family, all burning. Hawkins was crumbling, a giant monster with a gaping mouth breaching through the gates. Chaos flew in wisps of ash and fire until there was nothing but total and complete darkness.

“Tell them…”

“Where is it?!”

Robin could hear Steve and Nancy upstairs rummaging through her bedroom drawers for a hope of a Walkman or even that stupid music box, anything. The longer they took, the paler Robin felt. She was stood in front of you, yelling into your ears, trying to shake you awake from your deathly still posture.

“It’s not gonna work!” Eddie stresses behind her for the millionth time, a higher level of panic detected in his voice with each announcement. “Chrissy didn’t- oh my god, she’s gonna end up like Chrissy. My best friend is gonna-”

“Eddie!” Robin snaps at him, his eyes widening in shock. “We are all fucking terrified right now but I need you to get a grip! STEVE! WHERE’S THE MUSIC?!”

“WE’RE WORKING ON IT!” He yells back, matching her own panicked tone, and Robin could almost throw up.

She knew exactly what was going to happen the moment she saw your face drop, the strike of fear on your features as you stared into your reflection. She already anticipated your shoulders to drop and your eyes to roll back. She just didn’t make it to you in time.

“Please, please, please.” Robin begs you, her throat tightening with every flutter of your eyelids.

A choked gasp shouldn’t have been the sweetest sound Robin thinks she’ll ever hear, but once it escaped your lips, relief washes over her like the tide.

You stumble forward and she only just manages to catch you, Eddie already lunging across the room to help. They both lower you to the floor, allow you to sit as you try and catch your breath.

“You’re okay. You’re okay, we got you.” Eddie kept saying, your wild eyes darting around the room like you were afraid of the shadows, clinging onto his arm.

And Robin just sat there, staring at you, trapped in her own fear of the torment she shouldn’t have been feeling. It felt even worse knowing she had anticipated it all.

“What happened?” She finally asks when your breathing is steadier, watching as a pained expression is woven into your features before disappearing in a flash, shaking your head.

“He… he was warning me. Us. Told us to stop.” You nod feverishly, enough to spark curiosity.

But before Robin could question any further, two sets of footsteps come barrelling down the staircase.

“We got it! We got it- it’s right here!” Steve stumbles over his own words, panting for breath as he holds a Walkman in his hand, presenting it to the ceiling like a trophy. Robin blinks.

“You’re only like 5 minutes late.” She rolls her eyes and Steve looks exasperated, a sigh of relief exhaling from his lungs when he notices you sat there.

“Oh, thank god.” He runs a hand through his hair, laughing nervously. “We couldn’t find any music.”

“You couldn’t-” Robin frowns, shaking her head at him. “Then what the hell were we meant to do with that thing?”

“Improvise?” Steve offers and Nancy clears her throat.

“Sorry.” She surrenders, looking at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, attempting a smile but it didn’t settle right on your lips. “Just… just another threat.”

And with yet another lie, they all seemed satisfied enough to continue their mission; contact Dustin. To which they were successful, using light as communication that you usually would find yourself fascinated with. But the entire time you sat there as the others smiled, you couldn’t block out his voice.

“Tell Eleven… or your soul will be next.”

“You and Wayne really aren’t keeping up on the housecleaning.” You comment, and Robin lets out a snort behind you.

Eddie’s trailer was much like the rest of the eerily familiar homes in the Upside Down; dark and filthy. Vines were pretty much scattered across the furniture, almost swallowing the trailer itself whole. But that wasn’t the concerning part.

If you had to pick just one thing to be scared of, it would be the gaping hole in the ceiling.

“This is where Chrissy died.” Eddie says, gulping as you all stared at the thrumming crimson light. “Like, right where she died.”

And just like that, you were now even more terrified.

“Could this day get worse?” You mutter, and you wish you had kept your mouth shut.

“I think there’s something in there.” Robin announces and you all squint upwards, taken aback by a shadow moving against the membrane.

A few slow seconds ticked by, and you wondered if it was just a trick of the light.

Something suddenly pierces through, pieces of the small gate splattering to the ground and you all leap backwards, heart hammering in your ears.

Steve moves first, cautiously peering up before a smile starts to stretch his cheeks. Curious, everyone else follows suit, and you’ve never felt so relieved in your life.

“Hi there.” Dustin laughs in glee as Max, Lucas, and Erica, all wave up to you.

The first face you see as you grin is Robin’s, meeting her hopeful eyes and happy smile with those of your own. In the moment, you reach out your hand as squeeze hers without thinking. You didn’t even notice her grip your hand tighter. You also didn’t remember letting go. Because you never did.

“Holy shit, this is trippy.” Robin laughs, and you can only nod in agreement, looking through the gate as if you truly were Upside Down.

“Bada-bada-boom!” Dustin yells, and you all instinctively laugh.

In a hushed mutter of agreements, the kids start to build the exit plan, dispersing across the trailer. Robin gently tugs on your hand and you look at her inquisitively, her head motioning for you both to step to the side.

“What’s up?” You whisper, unsure of why she wanted to talk in private. If anything, you could only hope why she wanted to talk privately, but that was wishful thinking considering you both barely knew eachother and it probably wouldn’t work because who knows if she’s-

“Did you… did you see something?” She asks and you frown. “Earlier. When Vecna… is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No.” Your response was too quick and her face drops into a serious tone, her hand slipping away from yours and you’ve never thought your hand could feel heavier without the weight. “Robin-”

“You can’t keep secrets, Y/n.” She says and you shut your mouth. “There’s already been so much-”

She takes a breath, eyeing the others as they all appear to be fixated on the events above them.

“You went to the Creel House and never told us about it.” She reminds you, a soft frown marking two small lines between her brows. “You heard Vecna, and you didn’t think that would be important to know. And now you’re having these visions and you’re not telling us the whole story with that, either. Why?”

“It’s…” You begin, but your shoulders slump with exhaustion. She was right. Why are you trying everything to hide it? “He showed me something. Something horrible. About our future, Hawkins. He threatened me, but I- I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think terrifying everyone else was going to get us anywhere.”

“What did you see?”

“Monsters. Gates.” You gulp, the next word barely audible. “Death.”

“Shit.” Robin blinks, tightening her lips. “Yeah, that’s… that’s pretty terrifying.”

“We need to focus on Max.” You say, glancing over your shoulder to where they were testing out a rope. “We can’t… we can’t help her, or anyone else for that matter, if we’re too focused on the bad ending. And from what I saw…”

“What?” Robin frowns when you don’t speak.

“I don’t think it’s something we can fight.” You admit just as Steve yells out for you both.

“Come on, operation get the hell out of here is commencing. Move it.”

Steve guides Robin by her shoulder, making her frown in confusion. He points to the rope.

“What do you want me to do with that?”

“Climb it.” Steve says, like it was obvious.

“Seriously?” She cranes her neck to look up at it, an encouraging thumbs up from Dustin on the other side. She looks around to see no-one else is volunteering. “Guess I’m the guinea pig.”

She manages to catch your eye before reaching for the rope, unspoken words floating between you both as she focuses on her climb, ignoring the burn on her palms as she mustered up enough strength to reach the top.

The strangest feeling washes over her as her head passes through the gate, blood rushing to her face. She was upside down now, holding onto the rope.

And then she was falling, landing on a mattress with a soft thump, staring up at the ceiling of familiar faces.

“That was fun.” She announces as she accepts Dustin’s hand, pulling herself to her feet.

“Who’s next?” Nancy asks, and after that, everyone started to make their way to the other side.

Eddie landed first, grinning at everyone with a casual “That was fun.”

You passed through the gate next, smiling at Robin as she offers her hand and ignoring the unsettling feeling in your stomach as you stared back up at the gate, waiting.

Nancy readies herself on the rope, obviously affected by Steve’s nature to always be the last.

She didn’t climb.

“Nancy?” You’re the first to speak, stepping on top of the mattress to get a better look.

And then Steve was trying to shake her awake while the others searched in panic for music she would listen to. But you didn’t move.

You refused Vecna’s threat, and all of a sudden Nancy was now cursed? It didn’t feel like a coincidence.

It felt like your fault.

Nancy had snapped awake after a painfully chaotic chorus of panic, her wide eyes of horror speaking more to you than it would anyone else. You were relieved to know she wasn’t cursed, just another messenger for the dark wizard. You were in fear of knowing Vecna didn’t tolerate insubordination.

The things she had told everyone made Robin feel too sober, her back resting against a cabinet on the floor while they had all sat in silence, Nancy’s voice thick with tears.

Vecna wanted revenge, and that meant Hawkins was on his kill-list.

Robin couldn’t help glancing your way when Nancy started describing the details of your own vision, but your eyes were fixated on the carpet. She hadn’t known you for long, but she didn’t think you were ever this quiet.

“Four chimes.” Max suddenly says, cutting through the tense air. “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

“I heard them too.” Nancy agrees shakily.

“He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max realises, and Robin feels very sick.

“Four kills.” Lucas understands. “Four gates... End of the world.”

“If that’s true…” Dustin speaks, looking at Max, “He’s only one kill away.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Eddie mutters, rubbing his face, “Jesus Christ.”

“Try ‘em again.” Steve orders to no one in particular, pointing to the phone, “Try them again.”

Max nods and grabs the receiver to dial the number they had been trying for the past few minutes. You had hoped the Byers would be able to help, that El would come back and help you win this. But no one ever answered.

“What do we do now?”

Your voice was a surprise to everyone having been the only person unable to share your own input to Nancy’s visions. Your throat felt hoarse, and there was a pounding headache forming behind your eyes. It was all starting to feel hopeless.

“We’re going back to the Upside Down and we’re killing Vecna.” Nancy announces and Robin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Hold on, wait, let’s think this through.” Steve objects, standing from the couch.

“What is there to think through?” She countered, crossing her arms.

“We barely made it out of there in one piece!” Steve stresses and you watch as they argue, unsure of who’s side to take.

“Because we weren’t prepared!” Nancy replies. “But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

“Or he’ll kill us.” Steve says and across the room, Robin raises her eyebrows at you. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us.”

“And for good reason.” Robin interrupts, standing up and clearing her throat, “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One. Sorry, what are we calling him now?”

“One.”

“Vecna.”

“Henry.”

“Right.” Robin breathes out, continuing. “We’ve learned something new about Vecna/Henry/One. He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin.”

“Ew.” Erica turns up her nose.

“But, my-my… my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin intercepts and you turn around to look at him. “You’re right. He’s like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths. And weaknesses.”

“What weaknesses?” You question with little effort, and Robin can’t help but feel a little upset at how hopeless you sound.

“When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna.” Dustin explains.

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas comments.

“Exactly.” Dustin nods. “When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenceless.”

“Defenceless?” Steve raises his brows, gesturing to his bruised neck. “What about the army of bats?”

“True. We’ll have to find a way past them.” Dustin accepts, “Distract them somehow.”

“And, uh,” Eddie leans forward, “How do we do that exactly?”

“No idea. But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance.” He smiles, “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sound good in theory, but there is no pattern to Vecna’s killings. I mean, at least not one that I can decipher.” Robin says, “We don’t know when he’s going to attack next. We don’t even know who he’s going to attack.”

“Yeah, we do.” Max speaks up and your stomach drops. “I can still feel him. I’m still marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush, I draw his focus back to me.”

“What?” Your head whips up, frowning.

“Max. You can’t. He’ll kill you.” Lucas whispers out and she shrugs.

“I survived before.” She reminds him and Lucas frowns. “I can survive again.”

“How?” Robin observes the way you stare up at Max with a look of remorse. You really cared about these kids, about her. It’s why you were here in the first place. You could have flown back to Stanford, but you chose to stay.

Which is why the thought of Max sacrificing herself after all of this felt so absurd.

“I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic.” She says, slowly nodding. “Then you can chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Or blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up, I honestly- I don’t care how you put this asshole in his grave, just… whatever it is… whatever you do… try not to miss.”

It sounded like her closing statement, an invisible signed document of her stubbornness. Nothing you could say would change her mind, and you knew she was right. This was the only way.

“Now all we need is a shit ton of weapons.” You sigh, spreading your hands in exasperation.

“Where the hell are we gonna get that?” Steve frowns, exchanging a look with Robin. “Doubt Officer Friendly is gonna let us raid the station.”

“No need.” Eddie suddenly stands, stretching his arms. “I know exactly where we can find them.”

Everyone frowns, some in confusion, some in concern. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t say War Zo-” You start, but Eddie doesn’t let you finish.

“War Zone!”

War Zone was pretty much how you assumed a store named that would look. It was a giant warehouse filled with aisles and aisles of anything you could possibly get your hands on. Guns, ammo, grenades, knives. All you could ever need for battle.

It was just a shame the only two excited for this trip had to be hidden from the public. You thought it was ironic that you were trying to avoid suspicion just after stealing a whole Winnebago.

“Hey!” Dustin protests as Steve sits him back down at the table, shaking his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s too risky.” He explains, but the curly-haired boy just pouts.

“Hellfire stays inside.” Nancy announces and despite Eddie’s look of disappointment, he didn’t kick up a fuss. He could look at guns another day, when there was no longer a price on his head.

“Okay, time for some… shopping.” Robin shrugs as Max jumps out of the RV behind you, slamming the door shut. “Are we, uh, looking for anything in particular?”

“Anything that looks like it’s gonna hurt.” You say, surprising the others. None of them object.

Swarms of mostly bulky men were walking down the aisles when you all entered, seemingly curious yet unbothered by your little group. You all definitely looked out of place.

“Uh… we should also probably look out for clothes.” You suggest, gesturing to Steve’s stark outfit. Your own was covered in black slime and dirt, much like Nancy and Robin’s.

“Good idea.” Steve says as he makes a beeline for the clothing department.

“I’m gonna head over to the guns. I’ve got an idea of what I want.” Nancy nods and Max takes Erica with her to the smaller section of knives and bug repellent.

“What do we think?” Robin asks with a lighter tone, posing with a beret on her head.

“You know what, it actually suits you.” You laugh and she flashes you a smile, throwing it into the shopping cart.

She begins to peruse the jewellery section next, making you chuckle in amusement as you spot Steve trying on a jacket further down.

It had been a while since either of you talked. After your vision in the Upside Down, you could tell he was walking on eggshells around you, much unlike your usual banter. Now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had an honest conversation with you.

“So, weird question, but, um… how are we meant to be paying for this?” You question as you walk over to him, a surprised look on his face as he glances over at Robin. She seemed to be preoccupied by the studded belt in her hands.

“I’ve still got my whole compensation fund from Starcourt we could-”

He stops once he says it. Starcourt. He saw how your face drops without permission, giving him a small glimpse of the sadness that wore away inside you.

“I, uh… we could use my savings money.” You offer, trying anything to pretend like your momentary lapse of weakness didn’t happen. “I mean, it was meant for books and stuff back at Stanford but I feel like this is a much more important use for it considering the whole end of the world scenario we’ve found ourselves in.”

You attempt a laugh, but it came out with too little volume, and all too much air. You try to redirect your attention to the vest in front of you. It looked like tough leather, hopefully thick enough to add some protection to your frame.

“Sorry I’ve been such an asshole.”

The battle vest almost slipped from your hands as you turn to catch Steve’s eye. His expression was serious, an apologetic look pointed at you.

“Huh?” You frown, unsure when this sudden turn of conversation started.

“I haven’t really been grateful. To have you here with us, I mean. You literally dropped your life just to help us, and I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. High school was years ago.”

“If it helps, I have also been an asshole, so…” You laugh and you manage to spark a smile on his face. “And of course I’m here. You are, too. I’m not the only one risking everything.”

You didn’t expect a genuine smile from Steve Harrington to ever be sent your way, but you found yourself smiling back. In so few words, it was like a war had been resolved between you. A long time coming, at that.

You watch as his gaze drifts to behind you, his brows furrowing.

“Uh… I’ll be right back.”

You turn to see him jog over to Robin, placing a hand on her back. From this distance, you could just see her standing there with a fallen expression, staring at something further down the aisle. You take two steps back, curiously searching for the source of her uncharacteristic torment, but you can’t see past the couple laughing together.

The guy was quite tall, someone you think you recognise from school. Dan, was it? He was smiling down at a girl not much younger than you, wearing a grin and ginger hair.

It took a second for the realisation to hit, and by then Steve and Robin had wondered back over to you, quickly explaining you all needed to leave before you were suddenly rushing back to the Winnebago, left to sit for a little while longer with your thoughts.

Why was Robin so upset about a random couple in the middle of War Zone?

Robin hadn’t expected to see Vickie anywhere, let alone a stupid illegal gun shop on the outskirts of Hawkins. It definitely caught her off-guard, and since she watched what little hope she maybe had left of dating suddenly kiss a man, it also felt right. After all, she was a pariah. That was all she was going to be.

“I don’t care.” She interrupts Steve’s attempt to rationalise the prior events, rambling about the impossibility of Vickie not liking women too.“And I don’t understand why you do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like a perfect time for that little pull of the rug because… in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”

A sigh leaves her lips just in time for her to catch a glance of you across the field. You were sat cross-legged on the grass, laughing as Eddie and Dustin play-fought with their new and improved battle shields. As she sat just outside the Winnebago, holding a funnel for the molotov cocktails they had ordered, she feels a smile tugging at her lips when she sees your grin, and then she shakes it away as fast as she can. Not fast enough for it to go unnoticed.

“Aren’t you always telling me about all the fish in the sea?” He smirks, waggling his eyebrows and she grimaces. She knows he’s only joking, trying to tease her a little bit. But he doesn’t realise it wasn’t a game to her.

“Ew, no, don’t be gross.”

“I just think you’d be perfect together-”

“Okay.” She quickly stands up, almost spilling the bottles. “I think we’re running out of alcohol. I’m gonna go find some more.”

“Why are you being weird?” He frowns as she starts walking away. “But- we have enough bottles here!”

You heard Steve’s shout across the field as Dustin starts making a joke about bats, turning your head to see Robin was quickly walking away from him and disappearing inside the Winnebago. You were twisting grass between your fingers, staring longingly at the trailer home door. You wanted to talk to her. You needed to.

Your legs moved before your brain could comprehend it, marching you across that field with determination. There was no more putting it off. You couldn’t spend your last moments before what could be the end of the world sat on the grass wondering what would have happened if you’d just had the courage to open up.

Robin managed to compose herself for a bit, running her hands down her face and catching a glimpse of herself on a small mirror. Her mascara had rubbed off a little around her eyes, her hair now dirty and wild from the whirlwind of their adventures. With a sigh, she grabs another box of bottles. She so badly wanted a shower. Or at least to just curl up in her bed and pretend like the world was going to be just fine if she fell asleep.

She knew any minute now Steve would come looking for her, demanding answers. He was right. She was acting weird. But how else were you meant to act when you were slowly coming to the realisation that you’d be alone forever? How could she pretend to be normal when she had to sit and watch everyone else fall in love when she couldn’t, or reconnect with their high school sweethearts while she mourned the feeling of never experiencing teenage love?

She wasn’t normal. Nothing in her life felt more real than that.

“Hey.” You suddenly announce yourself and Robin drops the box she was holding, cursing under her breath as she scrambles to collect it before she lost all composure. You wince. “Sorry.”

“No, you- it just-” Robin presses her lips together, sighing. “I didn’t expect to see anyone in here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” You grimace even harder, motioning to the door. “This was weird, I can go-”

“No!” She drops the box again, on the small table this time. “Uh… I mean, no. You don’t need to…”

There’s a moment of silence you really wished was comfortable, but even you couldn’t pretend it was anything other than awkward.

“Are you doing okay?” Robin blurts, unable to resist talking if it meant she didn’t have to stand there with her own thoughts for much longer. “With the whole, you know, being a Vecna prophet?”

“A prophet, huh?” You smirk, raising your eyebrow. “No, I’m, uh… I’m okay? I think. Just… god.”

You flop yourself down on the cushioned seats of the Winnebago, biting your lip.

“I should have done what he asked.” You admit, meeting her eyes as she slowly lowers herself to sit beside you. “Nancy is probably, I don’t know, traumatised now because I keep thinking making everything a secret is gonna solve everything. Like it ever has.”

“You were doing what you thought would protect us. That’s not a bad thing.” She shrugs, staring down at her hands. “You shouldn’t even have to be dealing with all of this in the first place.”

“No one would have guessed an evil mind wizard who lives in an alternate dimension would somehow use me to spread his villainous plans.” You chuckle, trying to find the humour in what had to be the scariest experience of your entire life.

“No.” She breathes an airy laugh, biting her lip. “But I made you come here.”

“What?” You looked taken-aback, blinking at her. “No, Robin… I’m here because I want to be.”

“But you hate Hawkins.” She says, twisting in the seat to face you so she could express herself with her hands more. “And I- I don’t blame you. You lost your father… you left for all good reasons. I shouldn’t have shown up at your door demanding help, it… I didn’t realise how badly it would affect you, or-”

“Robin.” You place a hand over hers and she stills, words cut from her mouth by a single touch. “I want to be here. What happened a year ago doesn’t define my actions now. It never did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t leave because my dad died.” Your voice had gotten quieter, and Robin watched as your eyes started to glisten. “I… I left because Heather did.”

Robin frowns. Heather? Nancy mentioned a Heather back in the library after your first encounter, stating the two of you had known eachother since sophmore year. It had only been a passing comment. Robin only remembered the Heather with a plaque at the school, a soul lost to ‘the fire’. Flayed, Robin realises.

“Heather… Heather Holloway?” Robin asks and you nod, wiping away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “Nancy told me you guys were friends.”

“Right. Friends.” You say almost bitterly, avoiding her eyes. Robin sends a quick glance to the door, making sure it was shut. She had a feeling this conversation wasn’t one you were going to be comfortable sharing with anyone else.

“Was Heather… was she more… more than a friend?” Robin’s mouth felt dry as she struggled with her words, hoping you didn’t return them with a laugh or disgust. And you didn’t. You only nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Back in the hospital, Starcourt… I had gone with Nancy and Jonathan to try and figure out what the hell was happening to Hawkins. Nancy told us it was related to Driscoll, that we had to hurry. I remember she wouldn’t tell me why she was so scared. But Jonathan let slip that they had been at Heather’s house…”

You take a deep breath, trying to relax your now tensing shoulders. “I kept asking them where Heather was, if they had seen her, if she was okay. I… I knew something was wrong. I hadn’t heard from her for a whole day, I even begged for their help when she went missing but they told me I was paranoid. But I was right in the end.”

“You were too late.” Robin whispers in realisation, and your glossy eyes find hers, nodding.

“Heather’s dad was at the hospital. So was mine.” You recall, twisting the corner of the cushion. “They were flayed, attacked us when we least expected it. My dad was telling me how Heather died, what they did. Right before he drove a knife into my shoulder.”

You gently push down the shoulder of your jumper to reveal a red scar, and Robin’s breath hitches.

“I don’t really remember much after that. Jonathan managed to get him off me. I think Nancy dragged me somewhere safe before a nurse found me.” You sigh, rolling your shoulder. “When I had woken up, my gran was the one to tell me about Starcourt, how my dad had died in the fire. And that Heather and her family had apparently burned in there too.”

“I’m so sorry.” Robin squeezes your hand, wiping away her own tears. She had wondered why Nancy and Steve seemed so hesitant about your story. Only now did she know it was because they couldn’t feel anything but guilt about how they treated you.

“Heather was my best friend, and more.” You smile before it broke, biting your lip, “I hated the thought of staying here. I was just so… angry. At the others. At myself. I had to leave.”

“I would have done the same.” Robin admits quietly. “To be honest… I don’t think I would have come back.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” You shrug, “But I needed to be here for my gran.”

“Does she…”

“Yeah. She knows about Heather and me.” You say, nodding. “I came out to my dad when I realised I liked Heather. He… he wasn’t happy about it. We fought a lot after that until my gran decided to take me in. She’s pretty great.”

“She sounds it.” Robin smiles.

“Being a girl into girls in a town like this…” You laugh, glancing out the window. “When I turned Steve down in sophmore year, I just remember the relentless torment from everyone around me. I didn’t even know I liked girls then, but I knew I was never going to say anything because if I refused a date with a guy and they all hated me for it, what would happen if I ended up dating a girl?”

“It was all so natural with Heather. She didn’t make me feel like a freak, or make me some kind of pariah. Because she understood me. And about a year after we became friends, after the whole Steve incident, we started dating.” You lean back into the seat, pouring your heart and soul to a girl you hoped you had met years ago. “Our dads worked together at the Post, and we had to keep it a secret. That’s why… that’s why everyone out there thought we were just friends. Because that’s what I told them.”

“No one out there would have judged you like that. Especially not Steve.” Robin insists and your face twists with uncertainty.

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s my best friend.”

You knew that. You saw it anytime they bickered or teased one another. You saw it when Steve went rushing over to her the second he sensed her posture drop in War Zone, whispering reassuring words to her on the field after.

Part of you had assumed when you first saw them together that there was no way they couldn’t be dating. So many factors could be against why they weren’t. There was only one you were nervously hoping for.

“That girl… the one at War Zone. You looked really upset…” You bite your lip, heart beating harder. “Is that because…”

“I know exactly how you feel.” She meets your eyes and you almost melt, suppressing a smile.

“Is that why you started acting weird when you found out Eddie was my ex?” You ask and she frowns, obviously curious about that. “I dated him because I thought he was cool, and nice. We broke up because I realised I was gay.”

“Oh.” She laughs, feeling incredibly stupid. “God, I was so sure- I literally hate myself right now.”

“So… does that mean… if you liked that girl…” You struggle to find the words, scrambling your mind with endless possibilities to just ask the question.

“I like you.” Robin finally says in a whisper and you smile.

“I like you, too.”

Her eyes flicker to your lips for just a moment, until she catches something, a red trail starting to stain your upper lip.

It all came crashing down after that.

“Y/n?!”

Steve must have heard her screaming because when he comes rushing in, your eyes are already rolled back, Robin’s hands holding onto your shoulders.

You weren’t a prophet after all.

You were a warning.

Chapter Eight: Stealing Hearts, Broken Souls ->

taglist:

@kryztalglear @learninglinesintherainn @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer

@endurexxsurvive @em16cor @gray-cheese @chaosofmanyfandoms @kitdjarin1

@some-day--some-how @cultish-corner @marirxse

i try to keep up to date with taglists but if i have missed anyone or if you would like to be added please comment below or let me know via asks! [if i have highlighted your username in pink, it means tumblr isn't allowing me to tag you so please check visibility settings/ update me if you've changed usernames while i try my best to sort this out!]

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley #robin x reader #robin buckley fanfic #st4 fanfic #wlw #sapphic fic

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tonyspank · 1 year

Text

STAY READY (WHAT A LIFE)

"Here in this dimension, you and I are meant to be..."

Summary: In the year of 2075, in a futuristic world where soulmates are determined by their markings, you serve as a police officer in a high-tech city. However, there's more to your identity than meets the eye, and your superior, Hannah, has secrets to reveal.

Warnings: death, bit of angst, philosophy, rushed ending

A/N: had mixed emotions abt posting this, might delete bc idk how to feel, hope u guys enjoy

also wanted to post this bc i’ll be going in a little “writing vacay” basically not gonna be posting anything until i finish majority of my fics

In the year 2075, technology has advanced to unimaginable heights. Everything was futuristic, from self-driving cars and flying drones to holographic displays and virtual reality. There were some parts that still remained untouched by technology: the lower-class side of the city.

The side you passed to get home from work, was a stark contrast to the high-tech world that existed just a few blocks away. Brick buildings a few years away from crumbling away, littered streets, and dimly lit alleyways were the norm in the forgotten part of town.

The lower-class side of the city seemed frozen in time, trapped in an era that had long been left behind.

You felt similar, feeling as if you were frozen in time. Or even as if time had been in a loop, every day is the same, repeating the same routine over and over again. You had joined the police force when you turned 19.

You can't remember anything before that; it felt as if your childhood life was a blur. You had always wondered about your past, but there were no answers to be found.

There were barely any crimes due to the fact that cameras were everywhere, along with drones that could identify you in less than a second. The constant surveillance made it nearly impossible for anyone to get away with anything.

You still found a way to rank up, taking on additional responsibilities and becoming a respected member of the force. Your dedication and hard work did not go unnoticed, and you were eventually promoted to a leadership position within the police force.

"Y/LN." You raise your eyebrow, twisting your chair around toward the familiar voice. Standing in the doorway is your higher-up, Hannah, the Chief of Police. She has a stern expression on her face, waiting for you to address her.

You quickly stand up, walking over to her to see what the matter is. Hannah always had a stern expression on her face, even when she was in a good mood.

But this time, it felt different.

Hannah motions for you to follow her, leading you down the hallway towards the conference room. You follow behind Hannah with ease, dodging and weaving between the mix of androids and human officers bustling about the police station.

Entering the conference room, Hannah slaps the folder against the desk, causing a loud thud that echoes in the room. Her eyes bore into yours as she starts explaining the details of a confidential mission having to deal with the president and his late daughter.

"The sons of bitches actually made the serum..." Hannah mutters, taking a photo out of the folder and sliding it across the table towards you. The photo reveals a vial filled with a glowing blue liquid, labeled "Project Seraphim."

Project Seraphim, a top-secret government initiative, was aimed at resurrecting the president's daughter, who had tragically passed away. Ashely Redfield, the president's daughter and a young girl who never got to experience the fullness of life, was the inspiration behind Project Seraphim. The serum was meant to bring her back to life, offering a glimmer of hope to her grieving father.

"...years ago." Hannah finishes, clenching her jaw. "Dr. Murphy finished Project Seraphim and never informed anyone about its success. He kept it hidden, for what reason? I don't know. All I know is that you need to find him and get the serum. This came directly from the president, and you're the only one I trust to carry out this mission."

You eye the file on the desk, which contains all the information about Project Seraphim and Dr. Murphy's whereabouts. With a nod of your head, you agree, "Understood."

It was nighttime when you left the station, rain falling from the dark sky, the only thing lighting up the city being the neon signs and holograms flickering in the distance.

For the first time in years, you felt...overwhelmed. The weight of the mission and the responsibility entrusted to you by the president seemed to bear down on your shoulders. You continued to stroll through the rain-soaked streets, rolling up your sleeve slightly, revealing the mark on your forearm.

The mark was a symbol to show you had a soulmate out there. Your soulmate was supposed to have the same marking as your own, connecting the two of you in a deep and unbreakable bond.

It had always been a source of comfort and hope, knowing that somewhere in this vast city, your soulmate was waiting for you.

You run your hand over your marking, feeling the raised texture and tracing the intricate design. The feeling was soothing, even more so than the raindrops cascading down your skin, which seemed to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat, as if nature itself were in tune with the anticipation in your chest.

With a deep and long sigh, you cover up your marking, carrying on with your walk home.

Your routine has been broken. A figure stood at the edge of the bridge, which separated the two halves of your town. The figure's silhouette was illuminated by the dim streetlights, casting a shadow on the bridge's worn-out wooden planks.

You furrowed your eyebrows, breaking the cycle, and walking toward the figure, who seemed to not care about the rain that fell on them. Only a few feet away, you stood beside the now-revealed woman, who stared ahead, watching the small ripples forming in the river below.

She was gorgeous; more than gorgeous, she was enchanting, captivating even in the gloomy night. Her eyes held a hint of sadness, reflecting the weight of her thoughts. You couldn't help but be drawn to her mysterious aura, wondering what had brought her to this desolate bridge on such a rainy night.

Her lips began to curve in a small smile, and you had nearly missed the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. She turns to you, smiling softly, her eyes pouring into yours—eye contact that felt both intimate and unsettling. It was as if she could see right through you, unraveling the depths of your soul with just a glance.

You found yourself captivated by her gaze, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of her eyes. Then you heard her for the first time, your heartbeat racing more than it ever has before. Was this healthy?

"The rain can be quite therapeutic, wouldn't you agree?" Her voice was like a gentle melody, soothing yet mysterious. You feel the raindrops on your skin, cooling and cleansing, as if washing away the weight of the world. It's as if her words have a magical power, bringing a sense of calm and clarity to your troubled mind.

"Yes, it is," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, unable to tear your eyes away from her. The way she spoke and the way she looked at you made you feel like she could understand every hidden part of your being. She gives you another smile before turning her attention back to the river. "I'm Jenna if you were wondering."

"Y/N."

"I like watching the rain hit the water—seeing the ripples in the water as each raindrop creates its own unique pattern." Your eyes don't drift away from the woman, watching her side profile as she gazes out at the rain-soaked scenery.

"Even watching the raindrops that hit the dock is mesmerizing," she adds. "There are more than 200,000 raindrops that fall a minute, yet each one has its own individual impact on the world around us. People take rain for granted, complaining about how it ruins their plans or makes them wet, but they fail to appreciate the beauty and significance of each raindrop."

She continues, "Rain is essential for life, nourishing plants and hell even replenishing our water sources. It's a reminder of nature's power and the interconnectedness of all living things."

She turns back toward you, her eyes flickering with a sense of wonder. "Don't you kind of think we're like raindrops? Each of us may seem small and insignificant on our own, but together we have the power to create a ripple effect and make a difference in the world." She smiles as you stare at her, confused and intrigued by her analogy.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get too philosophical there. It's just something I've been thinking about lately. But hey, maybe it's something worth pondering, right?" She chuckles, breaking the momentary silence between you two.

You break into a smile. "No, don't apologize. I actually love that analogy. It's a beautiful way to look at things." Jenna's smile increases, her eyes lighting up with appreciation. "I'm glad you think so," she replies.

"Sometimes, it's easy to feel like our actions don't matter in the grand scheme of things. But if we can believe that even the smallest acts of kindness or positive change can create a ripple effect, then maybe we can find the motivation to keep making a difference. Like you taking the time out of your night to listen to me," she whispers the last part, breaking the eye contact she's been holding and looking down at her hands.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off by the angelic voice. "Thank you; it was really nice talking to you, but I have to go now."

Jenna walks away in a hurry, leaving you standing on the wooden bridge alone, feeling a mixture of confusion and gratitude. You watch her disappear into the distance, wondering what impact your conversation had on her.

It's been days since your mission and days since your conversation with Jenna. You find yourself replaying the conversation in your mind, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind her words. The memory of her angelic voice and the intensity of the moment still linger, leaving you with a sense of longing to know if she's okay.

A knock is heard at your door, interrupting your thoughts. John, a fellow officer in your field, hands you a file with a frown on his face. "Homicide," he says, scratching his beard. "We've got a new case, and it's a messy one. I thought you should take a look."

You quickly skim through the file while John briefs you on the details. "A young girl in her 20s was found dead three days ago, but there's no sign of a fight nor any obvious cause of death. We have her body in the laboratory for further examination, but so far, the autopsy results have been inconclusive. It's like she just... died. No witnesses, no suspects, nothing. Her names—"

Jenna?

"—Jenna." Your heart drops, flipping back and forth between shock and disbelief. Jenna. The same Jenna you met on the bridge that night, and the same Jenna that is supposedly your soulmate.

The marking on her back is the same as the marking on your arm. You feel a chill run down your spine as you realize you met your soulmate that night. Only once you find out do you realize that she is now gone forever.

What could have happened to Jenna, and why did fate bring you together only to tear you apart so suddenly?

"Y/LN? You alright?" John mutters, snapping you out of your thoughts. You eye the officer, still lost in your own world.

No, you weren't going to let the only person who brought you happiness after such a long time slip away without a fight.

Without a word, you jump up from your chair, pushing past your co-workers and rushing out of the office. You were going to use that serum on Jenna, not the president's daughter.

You burst through the doors of the laboratory, Hannah standing there with a puzzled expression on her face. "Y/LN, what's going on?" she asks, you were the last person she expected to see bursting into the lab.

Ignoring her question, you turn to a worker at the lab and urgently ask, "Where is Jenna Ortega's body? I need to see her immediately." The worker looks taken aback by your sudden request but quickly directs you to the morgue.

You remember the room number, then return back to Hannah, bumping past her and into the room she had just exited, the serum had been held here until the president was able to make his way down to your city, fortunately, he had been too busy to visit the lab earlier.

The four-digit code that you set and remember with ease is punched into the safe, unlocking with a loud beep. You grab the blue serum, turning around, only to be met with a gun pointed at your face. The person holding the gun is none other than Hannah; her expression cold and determined.

"Damnit, Y/LN. Don't make me do this," she mumbles, taking the safety off her gun. "Who told you about Jenna, huh?" You freeze, your mind racing to figure out how Hannah found out about Jenna.

"You knew? You knew Jenna was my soulmate?" Your voice trembles as you try to comprehend the situation. Hannah pauses for a moment, her grip on the gun tightening. "I've known for a while now," she admits. "There's some things you don't understand. You have an old soul, and I like that about you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You grit, confusion, and anger bubbling up inside you. Hannah's eyes narrow, a flicker of sadness crossing her face.

"You're not human, Y/N. You're something more, something special. You were created by SynthoTech, a company that specializes in advanced artificial intelligence and genetic engineering. They designed you to possess enhanced abilities and a unique consciousness, and it was either to terminate you or let you work for the government.

You're unlike any other Android that's been created before. Your thoughts and emotions are not just programmed responses but rather a genuine experiences. You have the capacity to feel joy, love, and even pain.

It's both a gift and a burden as you navigate a world that may not fully understand or accept you. I don't know why Jenna was your soulmate; I really don't get it, but we couldn't let you get off your program. So I had to eliminate her."

Hannah lets out a sigh. "Fucking hell, Y/N. Just set down the serum and let's figure out a way to keep you safe. No one has to know about this, okay? I can reset your program--"

"No!" You interrupt, "I'm not going to let you erase my memories and reset me like some kind of...fuck...no. You killed Jenna, and now you want to erase her from my existence too? This is so fucked up."

"The world is a fucked up place, Y/LN. What do expect to happen if you inject Jenna with that serum? You think the president is gonna let an android and human have a happily ever after with the cure that was made for his daughter?"

You shake your head, anger and frustration coursing through you. "I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be part of some twisted experiment or to be caught in the middle of political agendas. Jenna deserved better than this, and so do I."

"And so did Ashely; Jenna got to live her life, but Ashely was robbed of that opportunity." You take a step closer to Hannah, your eyebrows furrowed together tightly.

"Do you fucking hear yourself? You also robbed Jenna of the opportunity to live her life. You killed her for something she couldn't control! You're a hypocrite."

Hannah's face pales as your words sink in. She takes a step back, her eyes filled with guilt and remorse. The weight of her actions finally dawns on her, leaving her speechless and unable to defend herself.

Hannah lowers her gun and says, "Hurry." You hesitate for a moment, conflicted by the sudden change in Hannah's demeanor. "What?"

"Hurry up before I change my mind," Hannah says, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be responsible for any more pain and suffering."

Taking your chance, you run out of the room and toward Jenna with the serum in your hand.

You unlock the door to the morgue and step inside, the cold air hitting you as you scan the room for Jenna Ortega's body. She lies on a stainless steel table, pale and lifeless. You rush to her side, praying that it's not too late. Injecting the serum into your soulmate, you watch anxiously as her body stirs and color returns to her cheeks.

You whisper words of encouragement, urging Jenna to fight for her life.

Relief washes over you as Jenna's eyes flutter open, and she takes a deep breath. "Y/N," she whispers weakly, her voice barely audible. You hold her hand tightly, grateful that you were able to save her from the brink of death.

You roll up your sleeve, revealing the marking on your forearm, silently explaining that you're her soulmate. Jenna's gaze shifts to your forearm, her eyes widening with recognition as she traces her finger over the marking.

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tommydarlings · 1 year

Text

'till death do us apart | a.b

pairing: husband!austin x wife!reader

warnings: none

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to became a member! <3 (get access to +20 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

austinbutler

Liked by y/n_butler and 1,492,011 others

austinbutler gave you my hand, my heart and finally my last name ❤️ I love you 'till death do us apart y/n butler, that’s what I’ll promised you in church and what I’ll promise you now. ❤️❤️

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y/n_butler ❤️❤️❤️

carterjenkins congrats man! 🎉

austinbutler thanks cj!

ashleytisdale BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!! thank you for letting me be a part of that wonderful day!! 🥹

bazzzzyluuuuhrman344 I AM OBSESSED WITH THESE PICTURES OH MY GOD-

lizzycazzy The things I would have done so I could have been at their wedding 😭

bradypeoq @lizzycazzy SAME 😭😭

ashleytisdale

Liked by austinbutler and 590,379 others

ashleytisdale I can’t tell you in words how thankful I am to know you and be able to call you my best friend! 💕 wish you and austin the best, you two truly deserve it! 🥹💖

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y/n_butler You’re gonna make me cry ash!! 😭 thank you so much for standing by my side during that special day 🥹💛 love you to bits 🫶🤍🤍

austinbutler love the picture 🤍

sassylydia00 ASHLEY AND Y/N's FRIENDSHIP IS SO SWEET 😭🫶

ashleytisdalefan19 @sassylydia00 FR, BEST FRIENDSHIP IN HOLLYWOOD!! 😭😭💖💖

y/n_butler

Liked by sydney_sweeney and 909,628 others

y/n_butler finally able to change my last name on here! 🤭😆 so thankful for all these girls staying by my side during this utterly beautiful day! 🥹🤎 you were the best!!!

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ashleytisdale 💕🥹🫶 butler suits you better honey!! 🤭

zendaya thank you so much for inviting me and Tom and ashley is right!, butler definitely does suit you better! 😆🤍🤍

sydney_sweeney still in total awe with your dress, Mrs. Butler!! 😭🫶 (as you can see in the third picture…) 😅🤭

tomholland2013 hopefully you and austin will be invited to z's and mine wedding soon!! 😌

zendaya @tomholland2013 did you just ask me to marry you over the comment section of y/n_butler's beautiful Instagram post about her wedding?

y/n_butler I hope he didn’t…

austinbutler @y/n_butler me too, to be honest, Listen @tomholland2013 don’t do that man…

Dallaskoosa WILL THERE BE A ZENDAYA HOLLAND SOON?!?!?!

tinalovvi IMAGINE TOM AND ZENDAYA MARYING AND AUSTIN AND Y/N BUTLER GET INVITED AND WE GET FEED WITH HOLLAND AND BUTLER WEDDING CONTENT!!! 😭🥹😭

harryholland not my brother being in his spoiling era again 🤦🏻‍♂️

lifeisaloha my mate is not only spoiling movies, I see… 🤨🙄

bazluhrmann

Liked by butler!news and 420,591 others

bazluhrmann what an experience to see my boy getting married to the love of his life! 🥹🥹 never seen you happier, aus!! 💙 you two deserve all the love you get 🤍🤍🤍

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austinbutler love you, baz 💙🤍

y/n_butler best dancer on the dancefloor 😆🤎

austinbutler @y/n_butler excuse me? I thought that I was the best dancer, sweetheart???

y/n_butler don’t take it personal Mr.Butler…

austinbutler But I actually do Mrs. Butler…

bazluhrmann Shushh, lovebirds. We don’t want y/n to have to take her old last name back, right austin?

austinbutler never, I’m never gonna let her go and let her change her last name, not in a million years.

jellyfish556 AWWWWW 😭😭

sarahmiller SCREAMING-

butler!news

Liked by tomholland2013 and 311,929 others

butler!news Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s official! We got a new Butler in the house!! Big congrats to Austin and Y/n Butler to finally throwing the wedding of a lifetime and sharing some of their most beautiful and special moments with us!! 🤩 pshh 🤫 you can find more pictures and videos of their wild and lovely wedding if you click on the first link on our profile! 😆😆 and for now, please enjoy how Austin butler is looking with a wide and stunning smile at his gorgeous new wife y/n butler! 😍🥰

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elvisfan4ever LOVE HOW HE'S SMILING AT HER 😭😭🫶🫶

y/nbutlerfan44 you see how happy he is, I think I’ve never seen him smiling that widely :‚)

hannah-spenn prettiest Hollywood couple imo 🤭🥰

austin_elvis1999 If they should get a child one day, then it'll be the most beautiful kid in the entire world, that’s for sure

elvisfan4ever @austin_elvis1999 Imagine being able to say that you're parents are y/n and austin butler 😭🥹

y/nbutlerfan44 @elvisfan4ever OMG, RIGHT-

➽──────────────❥

#fanfic #fanfiction #austin butler #austin x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #austin Butler Instagram au #husband!austin #wife!reader

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 11 months

Text

Words: 3,899

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her

Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan

Warnings: scary imagery, gore, frightening scenarios

A/N: This is part of a series! Find the rest on the Master List!

Summary: Daryl is awoken in the middle of the night to a strange noise and some concerning discoveries.

The first thing that woke Daryl was a strange noise—some dull thump on the other side of the cabin. He was immediately wide awake and straining his hearing. He wondered if you were up and about, maybe unable to sleep, and moving around despite the late hour. Maybe he should just go check… But you’d asked for space. He laid still on his back staring up into the darkness. Another thump. Daryl sat up and stared into the blackness of his room. That’s when something drifting on the air seemed to hit him at the same time as he noticed a flickering glow at the bottom of his bedroom door.

Smoke. And a fire? Was that just in the hearth in the living room? No… something seemed off. And more noises. They seemed to be growing louder.

That was enough to warrant investigation.

He planted his boots on the floor and reached for the lamp on the nightstand. Click. Nothing. What the hell? Why was the power out? And that smoke smell… it was growing stronger.

Daryl felt for his knife and quickly slipped it into its sheath, then was reaching for his crossbow when a cacophony of sounds rose up from the other side of the cabin. The dogs began barking and at almost the same moment there was a sharp thump on his window followed by frantic growling and pounding. The sound drifting away toward the dogs.

Shit. Oh, shit. Gripping his crossbow, Daryl rushed to the window and peered out between the blinds. The moon was bright and illuminated the snow to a sparkling blue and white with deep purple shadows shrouding between. And then there… he saw the foot prints in the snow first, the disturbed and trampled surface, and then, as he pressed his cheek to the glass to look along the cabin, he saw them. The dead. They too were illuminated, but it was the warm burn of orange and red, flickering and throwing shadows into dark relief.

Panic seized him.

The dogs were still barking.

Clutching his bow, Daryl raced to the door of his room. He could now see the smoke drifting in beneath his door. He pressed his palm to the wood. It was cool enough to touch. He thrust it open and was almost overcome with smoke and heat immediately. The fire was raging up the far wall of the cabin, climbing toward the roof. Stifling his coughs as best he could, he struggled to hear anything over the greedy roar of the flames and the pounding of the dead that rose and fell like an upwelling current. He squinted against the burning smoke in his eyes. “Y/N!” he yelled as loud as he could. He staggered toward your room, feeling with his hand along the wall to guide his way, but with every step the heat grew and it didn’t take him long to realize that there was no way he would be able to get to you. Already the fire was drifting along the wall toward your door.

With panic rising in his chest and tightening his lungs, he hastily pressed his bandana over his mouth and nose and turned back, rushing back to his bedroom and slamming the door. He grabbed the quilt off the bed and shoved it along the bottom of the door in hopes of at least slowing down the smoke. Still coughing and tasting ash, Daryl rushed to the shared wall between his room and the bathroom in yours.

“Y/N!” Daryl roared. He pounded his fists over and over against the wall and then pressed his ear to it. All he could hear were the continued dull thuds on the outside of the cabin for a long moment. Terror seized him. What if you were unconscious, overcome by smoke? What if the infected had already broken in and gotten you… Please, no. Oh God, please no. He pounded on the wall again as hard as he could and yelled your name. Suddenly, the dogs started barking again. It came closer to the wall, and a moment later he heard you coughing. And then—

“Daryl!” More coughing. “Daryl, I’m—I’m trapped in here! There’s a horde outside and the fire—I can’t get out!” You couldn’t stop coughing. Your lungs burned. Your throat burned. “There’s so much smoke…”

Daryl pressed his palms to the wall almost as if he could feel your hands on the other side. “‘M gonna get ya out! Just hang in there! ‘M gonna figure this out…” It was so dark he couldn’t see a fucking thing. He fumbled with the light on his crossbow and got it turned on. “Y/N, wet a towel and put it at the bottom of the bathroom door to keep the smoke out! Then get one for your nose and mouth! ‘M comin’! I promise, I’m comin’!”

“O—okay. Hurry! They could come through the windows…” your voice drifted off and he could only hear you coughing distantly.

He spun and scanned the room with his light. He needed something to open up the fucking wall. Fuck. He had nothing in here.

Daryl hastily tied the bandana over his face and ripped the quilt away from the bottom of the door. The smoke immediately began to curl underneath. He plunged into the heat of the next room and frantically looked around. His eyes landed first on your pack and then the gun rack by the hearth. He seized them and dumped the boxes of ammo into your bag as fast as he could before piling all of it back in his bedroom. Then he returned to his search. Finally, when his desperation had almost overwhelmed him, the beam of his light landed on the hatchet you used to chip kindling from the larger logs for the fire.

“Yes!” he gasped out. He grabbed it and raced back into his bedroom, banging again on the shared wall. “Y/N? Ya still with me?” he asked frantically.

His answer was you coughing and a weak, “I’m here!”

“Get back from the wall and keep the dogs back! ‘M openin’ it up so ya can come through. I think we can get out the window on this side. The dead seem to mostly be on your end by the fire!”

You tugged the dogs back by their collars, coughing into the damp towel over your face. “Alright! We’re clear!” you rasped as loud as you could. Your eyes were now stinging from the smoke.

The first blow wedged the hatchet deeply into the dry wall. Daryl yanked it free, pulling a section of the wall with it. He gripped the drywall with both hands and tugged, widening the gap. There were wood struts and plywood separating him for you. He swung again with as much force as he could and the wood made a resounding crack. He extracted it with great effort and swung again, and again, and again. Finally, the plywood splintered and he pushed a chunk through. He could now look into the bathroom. Daryl wedged his boot in against the wood and kicked. A significant portion broke away. He could hear you coughing and murmuring to the dogs. The smoke was black and thick in the air toward the ceiling, much worse than on his side, though that was changing rapidly.

Daryl felt another surge of adrenaline and notched the hatchet back into the wood lower, opening the bottom portion of the wall. His palms were slick with sweat and his heart was hammering hard. He had to knock out one of the thick wooden struts. He swung again, as hard as he could and the hatchet blade buried itself into the strut but seemed to do little other damage. Daryl pulled it free with a grunt and swung again. Splinters of wood shot off. He could hear you coughing on the other side. “Hang on!” he roared. He used all his strength and swung again, and again, and again… what felt like endlessly until the strut was sundered.

He threw down the hatchet and grabbed his bow, training the light on the opening. It would be tight, but he thought it would be enough.

“Y/N! Can ya make it through?”

You crawled over to the glow shining into the bathroom from the other side, your portal to safety. Black smoke swirled in the thermals of heat in the air. To Daryl, and to safety. “Strider, go!”

The black lab shot through the opening and bounded to Daryl, whining anxiously and tapping his paws, looking back at the hole toward you and Bear.

“Okay, Bear! Go! Bear, go! Go on!” You pushed the nervous husky toward the hole but he seemed unwilling to squeeze through. “Bear, now!” you yelled at him, trying to move his 70 pound body unsuccessfully.

“Y/N, come through first! He’ll follow! C’mon!”

There was a suddenly creaking noise overhead and you froze before glancing up at the roof, wide-eyed. “Oh, God—Bear, go!” You pushed with all your strength and Daryl reached through from the other side and grabbed Bear’s scruff, hauling him forward.

“Y/N, come on! Quick! We gotta go!” Daryl’s hand was reaching out for you. Now he could hear the cracking above you. You crawled closer, stretching out your fingers, trying to draw a breath but getting mostly smoke and ash. Another creak and then a loud crack and crunch overhead and suddenly the ceiling was falling down behind you. Terror froze Daryl’s heart. “Y/N!” He held his breath. He couldn’t see from the rolling clouds of dark smoke and the rain of ash and debris. “Y/N! No!”

The dogs whined incessantly behind him. Daryl squinted through hole in the wall, framed by splintered wood, his hand outstretched and flecked with ash. No…

Suddenly, he felt your hand in his and he gripped it tight and pulled. Your arm came through, and then your shoulder, then the rest of you, coated with gray and white ash, coughing from the soot. He tugged you through and into him as you tried to regain your breath.

Daryl smoothed your hair, pressing you against his chest for a brief moment. Then he clasped your face with one hand, shining his light toward you with the other. His blue eyes whirred frantically over you for injury. You had a cut near your temple, but beyond that seemed mostly okay, albeit covered in soot and ash, your eyes red and watery. “God, I thought ya—I thought the roof—”

You shook your head and struggled to talk. Your throat felt dry and hot. “No—I’m just banged up. Let’s go. We have to get out—”

“C’mon,” Daryl said urgently. He held up your pack and you dug in the side pocket and pulled out a headlamp which you hastily illuminated and slid on. You were still wearing your clothes from the outing the day before, but your winter gear was already consumed by the inferno. You only had your slippers on. That was something to worry about later…

“Here,” Daryl said, holding out a shotgun. “Try not to use it unless we got no other choice.” He held out the hatchet. You took it with a nod, gripping it far tighter than necessary. You felt shaky and lightheaded.

Daryl grabbed your hand in his and squeezed it tight. “Are ya ready? We gotta try and sneak to the shop, get to the snowmobile. But there are gonna be infected everywhere. Hopefully the horde is still on the other side and stays distracted by the fire…”

“God, I thought I was dead,” you said suddenly.

“We ain’t dead. And we ain’t gonna be. C’mon.” Daryl peeked through the blinds again and then pulled the cord to raise them. He pressed his face nearly to the glass and looked out. “We got some stragglers, but we better go before they surround the place.”

“There are hundreds over there,” you said, hearing the shake in your own voice.

Daryl gulped and nodded. “I know. We’ll be on the sled and gone before they figure it out.” He paused and pulled in as deep and steadying a breath as he could under the circumstances, then he unlocked and raised the window.

A torrent of frigid air poured in like water through the breached hull of a ship. Daryl grabbed Strider and lifted him up to the window. The big lab bounded from his arms and landed in the deep snow, bristling and growling. A walker stumbled toward him from the darkness beyond and you held your breath as Strider launched himself at the skull-like face and took it down. Bear was next and seemed eager to free himself into the night air. “Alrigh’. You next,” Daryl said urgently. You pushed yourself through the window and landed less than gracefully in the deep snow, sinking up to your shins. You shook the snow from your hands and straightened up, glancing back just in time to see Daryl climbing through. A moaning and growling ahead of you snapped your head around. A runner was racing toward you and the dogs. You raised the hatchet, but before you needed to swing, Bear and Strider had seized it and the body lay twitching in the snow, a sick dark puddle expanding around the head.

“The shop!” Daryl said urgently. “Let’s go.”

You whistled to the dogs and took off after Daryl, rounding the little lean-to on the end of the cabin and focusing on the hulking building of the shop ahead, illuminated in an orange glow. Ash drifted down around you on currents of air. Daryl raised his bow and dropped a walker. You turned and saw three more emerging from the darkness. One was alarmingly fast and you swung the hatchet as it got close, cleaving its head in a spray of gore.

When you looked forward again, Daryl’s eyes were on you. You raced to him. The snow had already soaked your slippers and was melting into your socks. Your toes would be numb in no time, but you hardly felt anything but the shake of adrenaline and bite of fear.

The shop was just ahead and you barreled in under the open door. Daryl reached the snowmobile first and fumbled with the ignition.

“Boys, load up!” you commanded the dogs, pointing the makeshift side car Daryl had crafted for them. Bear and Strider jumped in without hesitation, hair still raised along their backs.

The sled hummed to life, the engine loud in the echo of the metal building. You glanced frantically back toward the blaze of the cabin. Infected started rounding the corner. Dozens upon dozens, trying to rush toward you but hindered by the deep snow. “Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

“Come on!” Daryl yelled over the roar of the engine.

“Have you ever driven one of these?” you asked, hesitating.

“No, but we gotta go!” he roared.

“Move back! It’s harder than it looks and I know the terrain!” you replied. “Last thing we need is to get stuck in a fucking drift or dead end with a horde on our ass!”

Daryl moved back and you climbed on in front of him, shifting the snowmobile into reverse and backing it up out of the shop. The skis hit the snow and slid with ease, cutting through the powder. “Y/N—hurry up!” Daryl urged you, raising his crossbow. The infected were getting too close for comfort. He let a bolt fly and it dropped a runner, striking it square in the face. More were charging forward, yelling wildly and flailing grasping hands. “Go!”

You shifted into drive and revved the engine. The sled leapt forward into the darkness. The headlights illuminated the trunks of trees and rounded shapes of boulders beneath the snow. The loomed in the light and whipped past, a dizzying kaleidoscope of shapes and shadows.

You turned the sled toward the road that led to the cabin, pointing the nose downhill. Your hands were already numb with cold where they gripped the handlebars and your cheeks felt only the biting sting of snow flurries as they pelted your skin. The cold air cut through your thin layers of clothing. Daryl’s arms were clasped around your waist. You couldn’t hear anything over the hum of the snowmobile and glancing over your shoulder was too dangerous traveling at the speed you were, but you could sense infected trailing behind you. Strider barked to your right, squinting into the darkness beyond the headlights.

Images of dead in the surrounding woods flicked past, momentarily lit by the white blaze of light from the sled and then disappearing behind you. They were everywhere. You needed to get off the mountain.

You felt Daryl shift behind you and you partially turned. “How is it b—back there?” Your stutter made you aware that you were shivering violently in the cold.

“Keep goin!” was his yelled response. “A few still behind us!” The runners were terrifyingly fast but they wouldn’t be able to keep up with the sled for long. In this case, the deep snow was a blessing.

Silence fell between the two of you again and you pressed the snowmobile to go faster, as fast as you dared while navigating in the darkness. Your throat and eyes, burning before from the smoke, now felt dry from the cold. Your feet were frozen in your slippers, the melted snow quickly turning to ice in the frigid wind. There was only the hum of the engine for several long minutes and then Daryl leaned forward into you and spoke into your ear. His voice was finally calm. “It’s alrigh’. We lost ‘em. Find somewhere safe to stop for a minute.”

Your breath hitched in your chest as the weight of what had just happened began to settle heavily over you. You slowed and the engine noise reduced slightly, the high-pitched whir dropping to a low hum. You found an open space in the dark woods and let the snowmobile come to a stop. You cut the engine completely. You felt frozen, rigid where you sat.

Daryl shifted behind you and then you felt him climb off. “Boys, out,” he murmured softly to the dogs. They bounded out of the side car and into the snow. Daryl lifted the seat and rummaged in the hidden storage compartment below. You heard fabric rustling. He reappeared in front of you, clutching a puffy winter coat.

“Y/N—” His voice was tentative, cautious. He moved around to your side again and draped the coat over your shoulders. “Pull this on. S’freezin’ out here. I ain’t got any spare boots in there so we’ll have to find somethin’ but at least I got a coat and hat ya can use.” You still didn’t move. Your eyes were a bit wide and almost unseeing. Daryl realized that tears were pouring down your cheeks. He chewed on his bottom lip for a long moment, his heart sinking into his stomach. “Y/N,” he said again, even more gently.

Finally, you moved. You hurriedly wiped the tears from your frozen cheeks and slipped your arms into the coat and zipped it up. You tucked your freezing hands into the long sleeves and sucked in a breath. Your throat and lungs still burned with ash and soot. Your eyes found Daryl’s face finally. “You aren’t gonna say ‘I told you so’?” you said.

His brow furrowed heavily, casting his blue eyes into deeper shadows. “No…” Daryl replied quietly, shaking his head. He moved back to the little storage compartment and shuffled some items around until he found the mittens he’d stowed inside. He came back to your side again and held them out. “I understand what ya were holdin’ onto there. I mean—I never had what ya had by blood, but I’ve got a found family. And I’ve lost some of them along the way, including Brian, and—I get it.”

You sniffled, turning to look back over your shoulder. You could vaguely see the orange glow of the fire up the mountain, reflecting on the tall trees. You watched the distant smoke, illuminated by the flames, curling into the gray sky and disappearing among the winter ceiling of clouds. “What I was clinging to was already gone, really. And I almost got both of us killed because I wouldn’t let go.” You sighed and squeezed your eyes shut, reliving the terrifying chaos of sound and confusion in the smoke and flames. Your throat still burned. Your palms still burned.

“Ya didn’t know they’d get to the cabin last night. Ya couldn’t know. We coulda been safe there another day or another week… maybe even a month. It isn’t your fault. It was the dead. It was this goddamn world we live in now,” Daryl said.

“I still should have listened to you. You were seeing it all with a clear head. But I’m too damn stubborn…”

This drew a low laugh from Daryl despite the situation and you looked up at him in surprise. One corner of his mouth was curved up. “Ya dun say…” he drawled.

You mopped at your face again with a mitten and let out an amused exhale. The pit in Daryl’s stomach loosened a little. “Alright. Let’s—let’s figure out what we’ve got and what we need,” you said.

Daryl nodded. The dogs were nosing around din the snow and he was relieved they showed no sign of smelling any approaching infected. “With what I grabbed fast and what I had packed, we’ve got plenty of ammo and food for now. I put some cookin’ stuff and firestartin’ materials in the saddlebags. Have a few more spare clothes. But tonight, we need a safe place to hole up and we need better gear for you—especially shoes. Ya can’t go around in wet socks and slippers. Yer gonna get frostbite.”

You nodded. Your feet were numb. You gulped and tried to think. All of your shelters on the mountain were off limits. There were simply too many infected and they weren’t anywhere near strong enough to keep the dead out. “Let’s just get down off this mountain and hit the edge of town. There are enough stores down there… Unless the area is flooded with dead too, we should be able to find somewhere to crash and scavenge what we need.”

Daryl nodded. “Alrigh’. Are ya okay drivin’ this thing still?”

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” You whistled softly to the dogs as Daryl closed up the storage compartment again. Another shiver wracked through you as Daryl climbed on. His arms wrapped around you again and now he seemed to be holding you extra tight. You started the engine and turned back toward the remnants of the road down, buried under the deep snow. You wondered how long the cabin would burn behind you and what exactly lay ahead…

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souperbloom · 9 months

Note

Hiiii! I had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. After their performance since their adrenaline is so high they get high and have high sex 🤭

fucking obsessed with this one. had a blast writing it too. soup nation hath spoken, so sativa you shall receive (sorry it took so long)

enjoy <3

————————

sativa. [A.I.]

🍃 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after the curtains close, you and Ashton let out that post-show adrenaline the best way you both know how.

a/n: i’m picturing black hair ash for this, but feel free to picture any era you’d like!

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, weed/smoking, strong language, pet names, oral/faceriding(f!receiving), switch!ash :3

WORDCOUNT: 6.1k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Tonight was a night like no other. You and your band had just bid adieu to yet another incredible crowd, the lot of you filled with so much energy that it left you feeling as though you were about to burst.

"…Fuck yes, dude!"

"Who has my bag?!"

"Your shoe’s untied, mate! Slow down!"

You and your bandmates barreled through the parking lot of The Kia Forum, buzzed out completely on vibes. You had been running so fast, and for so long, that you had completely forgotten what you were running for.

It wasn’t much longer than a few minutes before you remembered, and reached, your destination— the tour bus, which was parked all the way at the back entrance of the arena. Each of you stopped accordingly, catching your breath.

"Why did we even start running?" Your bassist, Calum, has always had a gripe with running.

"Who fuckin’ cares?! That shit was awesome!" Michael blows out a breath, resting his hands on his knees.

"I like running… but not in these shoes… Dear God—" Luke had found himself on the ground, letting out a long, and loud groan.

"I could go again. Fuck it! Who wants to race me?" Your boyfriend’s voice pipes up from behind you. You whip your head around to see him jogging in place with a smile.

You let out a giggle, still breathless from the strides you had taken to keep up with his pace on your initial run into the parking lot.

"Nobody’s racing anybody, Ash," Calum huffs, stretching his legs, "We’ve gotta pack up our shit on time before they leave us here like last time."

Ashton blows a raspberry, "You’re no fun."

"I’ll race you," you shrug to him, still completely clouded with adrenaline. The running barely made a dent in the energy that was coursing through your veins.

He wraps a broad arm around your shoulder, hugging you into his side.

"You say that now, baby— but the last time I beat you in a race, you didn’t talk to me for like, a week."

"Hey," you scoff, "I had good reason! You teased me about it every time I opened my fuckin’ mouth!"

"She’s right, Ash," Luke finally pipes up from his resting place on the concrete, "you bullied the shit out of her."

"You clearly just don’t understand my comedic repertoire."

Michael and Calum laugh, each patting Ashton on the back as they walk by to step onto the tour bus. You glance over at Ash, who had been staring at Luke on the ground.

"You alright, Lu?" You ask, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp.

"Yeah, yeah— I’m fine. Just— give me a second." He holds his hand up in the air, almost surrendering to the cold, hard ground.

"C’mon, mate. Let’s get you on this bus. It seems like Y/N is the only one matching my energy tonight."

Ashton takes Luke’s hand, pulling him up by his torso. You watch in awe at how effortlessly your boyfriend hoists him up, the butterflies in your stomach still floating around just as they did when you first got together with him.

"Okay, I’m good now." Luke blows out a breath, adjusting his heels in his boots.

Ashton, Luke, and yourself all make your way back onto the tour bus, each with your own respective bags and belongings. By the time you had stepped on, Michael and Calum had already found their seats on one of the couches. They were browsing their phones, occasionally showing each other something and giggling at the screen.

"Got room for one more?" Luke asks, moving Calum’s spread out legs to make a seat for himself.

"There’s a whole ‘nother couch, mate," Calum huffs, so entranced by his phone that he hadn’t even looked up.

You and Ashton had made your way to the other couch in question. Your eyes find Luke’s, his find Ashton, as you each toss each other a knowing glance.

"Nah, I think I’m alright sitting here. Why, you don’t want my company?"

As the other three bicker, you and your boyfriend find a comfortable position on the couch. Your head is resting on his shoulder, his arm extended over the top of the couch and resting along the back of it. He pulls out his phone to check the time.

"It’s half past eleven and I’m fuckin’ wired." Ashton mumbles. You feel his body vibrate with the words he speaks as you rest your head onto him.

"Me too," you admit, your leg starting a cadence of bobbing up and down, "I’d usually be down for the count by now."

"Y’think it’s the adrenaline rush? I’m not sure why but— I feel like I could scale a goddamn mountain right now."

You shrug, trying to close your eyes as the bus starts to move, "Could be. But— it’s hard to believe we’re the only ones feeling it."

Ashton’s hand was gently lingering around the nape of your neck. He then started to toy with your hair, resting his head on top of yours.

Your leg had continued to bounce, still feeling as if you were about to pop off into the sky like a fucking bottle rocket.

It was only about a 20 minute drive from the venue back to the hotel, but the anticipation of getting there was absolutely killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand sitting quietly, especially now that Ashton’s hand had traveled to your shoulder.

He twists his head, planting a kiss on your temple before whispering in your ear.

"Why’s your leg doing that?"

"Dunno’. Just energized, I guess."

Your boyfriend nods in understanding. "Isn’t being on this bus right now just the worst?"

"Don’t remind me," you say, as Ashton is removing his arm from the back of the couch.

He puts his arm back at his side, yet his hand finds your leg like a magnet. His fingertips creep towards your inner thigh, your leg still bouncing impatiently.

"Really wish we were back at the hotel…" He then dips down slowly to be level with your ear.

"…’Wanna put all this energy to good use, no?"

His words send a shock wave down your spine, similar to the ones that had been coursing through you all night long. You knew exactly where his head was at, but whether or not you wanted to acknowledge it while the rest of the band was three feet away from you was a battle you did not want to fight right now.

"Ash, knock it off," you whisper sternly, pressing your hand down on his in order to keep it from inching any closer to its’ destination.

"They’re not even paying attention. Look at ‘em." He gestures towards the boys on the couch, all either buried in their phones, or passed the fuck out.

"Still— If they saw anything I’d fucking kill myself."

Ashton’s tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, now looking at you as if you were a dessert waiting to be devoured. You roll your eyes, trying your best to seem unbothered by his gaze.

"Fine."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Ashton would occasionally squeeze your thigh, or his knee would knock against yours when Calum let out a particularly loud snore. You had finally made it back to your hotel, and were filing out one by one from the tour bus

"It’s amazing how you fast you can fall asleep," You hear Michael poke fun at Cal, who had been yawning and stretching as if he had gotten a full night’s sleep.

"The art of the power nap, my friend."

"Even after all these years, you still snore like an animal," you giggle, reminiscing on the many nights you’d spent on the road together.

As Calum opens his mouth to retaliate, Luke is stepping out of the tour bus and joining the conversation.

"Everyone has their shit, right?" he asks, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

"Yup."

"Mhmm."

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now get out of my sight. All of you. Don’t wanna see your faces ‘till tomorrow morning a nine." Luke teases, wagging his finger at the rest of you.

You each gave hugs and said your goodnights, all while Ashton was glued to your hip. His body radiated off an aura that you couldn’t quite put your finger on— you didn’t know if it was just the energy, or the fact that the tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a pair of scissors.

But you knew full and well that you were feeling it too.

"That was the longest bus ride of my fuckin’ life," Ashton huffs, fumbling in his pants pocket for the keycard to your suite.

"I know— I feel like I should be tired," you shrug, "I probably won’t be able to sleep for a while though."

As Ashton pushes open the door to your shared hotel room, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. You blush, adjusting your bag strap and trying not to make too much of a face.

"We should stay up all night."

"Do you really think that’s the best idea?" Now, his eyes were wide and glassy. Your boyfriend’s energy had skyrocketed at an alarmingly fast rate.

"No, not at all. But— I think it would be fun, don’t you?"

The thought of staying up all night made you tired in itself, but you couldn’t push past the adrenaline still rolling through your veins.

You think for a moment, mulling over the pros and cons.

It’s already after midnight. Call time for tomorrow was at 9am. What’s 8 and a half more hours gonna change?

"It would be fun… But what would we do for that long?" You drop your bags on the carpet with a sigh.

"I could think of a thing or two," says Ashton, wiggling his eyebrows. He rifles through his bag on the floor for a moment, while you flop down on the king sized mattress.

"Like what? ‘Cause I’m not about to just sit here and stare at you."

"I don’t see a problem with looking at your gorgeous face for eight hours straight," Ashton chuckles, "but that wouldn’t be realistic…"

He digs down into one of the pockets of his backpack, pulling out a small rolling tray, a pack of papers, and a jar of bud.

"…So how about I roll up and we see where it takes us?"

You can’t help but bite your lip at the thought of Ashton rolling up for you. He always gave you the princess treatment when it came to smoking, and tonight was no different.

"I’m down for that." You hum, shifting yourself up on the bed and resting your arms on the pillows.

"Perfect. It’s settled then."

You watch with patient eyes as your boyfriend stands with his belongings. A rolling tray, papers, and a grinder in one hand, the bud, and a pack of filters in the other. His gaze drops down your body, landing on your torso.

Without a word, he finds his way onto the bed on his knees, a sly smile sprawling across his cheeks as he moves around you slowly.

"Whatcha’ doin’, baby?" You ask innocently.

"Nothin’."

His timid reply made your stomach flip, not long before he’s reaching his leg over your body to straddle you. He rests himself gently onto your thighs, putting his rolling supplies down at your side.

"Gonna roll up now, mkay?" He finds your approval with his eyes, as he slowly starts to dip his body down to lay flat onto you. Confused, you lift your brow, but you’re immediately shut up when he starts tugging at the hemline of your shirt.

"Ash, what—"

"Shhhh," he whispers, before pulling up the spandex material of your stage shirt and leaving a gentle kiss on your belly.

Your heart flutters at his simple gesture, just watching in awe as he starts to lay out his rolling supplies on your stomach. You were still very confused, yet you didn’t have the heart to question him.

Now with a rolling tray, papers, and a grinder all splayed across your body, Ashton starts his routine. He takes out a nug from the jar, popping it into the grinder and using his elbows to keep himself hovered over your body.

"What am I, a table?" You giggle, the movement of your stomach causing the rolling tray and other things to move around.

"Your giggling is fuckin’ up my work station, baby. Try to hold still f’me."

You clamp your giggly mouth shut with a straight face, still oddly amused by this strange scenario. Ashton had never used you as a rolling tray before, so pardon you for seeming weird about it.

Once he was done grinding up the weed, he grabbed a filter, all while balancing himself over your body. He made his next moves tediously, laying out a paper flat onto his tray and sprinkling the plant onto it.

Your first instinct was to hold your breath, but something about his face of concentration was making you want to bust out laughing. He’d occasionally glance up at you, those green, honeypot eyes tossing you warning stares.

"Almost done—" He says, now folding up the corners of the paper and actually starting to roll it.

What you loved most about watching Ashton roll was the pure concentration that overcame him, every single time. His eyes would go narrow, his tongue poking out slightly between his lips. It took everything inside of you not to sit up and start showering his face in kisses, but you held back.

For the sake of the joint.

"She’s a beauty," you say, watching Ashton tongue the rolling paper and leaving you with nothing but intrusive, sinful thoughts.

"Mhmmm," Ashton hums in return, before giving the paper one more lick. He twists up the end, finally getting to admire his handiwork.

"Your belly makes one hell of a rolling tray, baby— might have to try rolling up your tits next."

"Yeah, right. Good luck with that one."

You both laugh as Ashton starts to remove his supplies off of you, haphazardly tossing them to the side.

He then pops the joint into the corner of his mouth, and uses his fists to crawl up to you. He stops at eye level, fully straddling you with the jay between his lips and a devilish gleam in his eye.

"What are you looking at?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"You." He mumbles through the side of his mouth, the joint stuck to his bottom lip,

"Yeah, no shit," you laugh, "But why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like there’s something on your mind."

He cocks his head, "Well, there is this one thing…"

Feeling daring, you pluck the joint from between his lips, taking it between your fingers.

"If ya’ tell me what it is, I’ll let you take the first hit."

"Psh," he scoffs, "like I wasn’t gonna do that anyway."

A bout of confidence rolls down your body, absolutely entranced by your boyfriend’s floppy black curls. He looked absolutely ravishing. The gaze in his eye flicking from innocent to lust fueled, just with a blink.

And if there’s one thing you always knew, it was exactly what he wanted.

"You fuckin’ wish… Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy."

Your nickname for him made him close his eyes, taking in a deep breath as you ran the back of your hand along his cheekbone.

The joint was still dangling between your fingertips, but you were debating putting it down after the way he had sighed.

"You always know how to get me, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, and sultry.

"Contrary to popular belief, Ash, I know a lot about you. Enough to know what you’re thinking about."

"You’re such a fuckin’ tease," he grumbles.

"Hey, you started it. Just trying to match that energy from before, y’know?"

"Trust me, it’s still here, darlin’. It never left."

Your mouth pulls to the side, watching his eyes flick between your lips and your chest.

"Oh, really?… You catch your bottom lip with your teeth.

"…Prove it."

In a flash, Ashton is flipping you over, bringing your hips to straddle his waist with your calves digging deeply into the hotel mattress. The action practically knocks the wind out of you, all with the joint still dangling between your fingertips. But you used Ashton’s broad chest as leverage for your palms, so you didn’t fall.

"I’ve got the time to prove it… and a lighter."

Ashton reaches over to the bedside table, practically knocking everything off of it as he reaches for his black Zippo. It was like a piece of him— never leaving his sight for more than a few minutes.

And on the rare occasion in which it wasn’t on him, it could be found right in your back pocket.

"Well then, if you insist— light me up, baby."

You place the joint between your lips, making a sly effort to dig your hips downward and grind into his crotch. A shaky hand approaches you, the heart shaped ink on his wrist reaching out to you with a burning flame.

He toasts the end of the joint as you inhale, the crackling, earthy feeling funneling down your throat while you take the first pull. Those golden fern eyes surveyed your every move; from the inhale, to the exhale.

"Y’look so pretty smokin’ my weed."

"Do I?" You hum, now feeling his hands as they palm at your thighs.

"Mhm."

Your cheeks flush pink, going in for another hit of the joint as Ashton just watches you; like he was in some sort of trance.

But as the smoke travelled down into your lungs and left you feeling a bit fuzzy, something inside of you perks up. A yearning to be in control; to tell Ashton whatever perfectly fucked up words were left in that adrenaline-doused brain of yours.

"You look even prettier under me."

His eyes flutter closed, and you’re left with a cheeky, prideful smile.

You loved getting under Ashton’s skin, more than anything. Calling him pretty, pretty boy; it was like a drug to you. You craved the rush that came with the change in his demeanor. It was something he tried to deny enjoying—

Yet he always came back for more.

Without another word, you pass the joint to him, placing it between his plump lips and allowing him to take his first pull. He sighs to himself, still clawing at your pants like he would strike gold by digging his fingers into them.

"Fuck— that’s great."

"Isn’t it? She's a beauty."

"Mhmm… tastes nice."

The residual smoke clouds the air above you, as you continue to pass the joint back and forth between your lips and his.

It wasn’t long before you started feeling high; and the same went for Ashton. You shared glances through heavy, bloodshot eyes, completely entranced by one another.

"Told you this was a good way to pass time," says Ashton, whose hands had become a bit more fidgety down at your sides.

The fog in your mind was clouding your senses. It had come to a point where you felt like your voice wasn’t working— you’d open your mouth, but nothing would come out. Just a puff of air, or a soft little whimper as Ashton’s hands danced around your calves.

"Baby?" He asks you, shifting his hips beneath you with a twinkle in his eye, "You okay?"

You wanted to reply, but you were too mellowed out to even utter a word. Shooting him a soft smile, you toss your head back, and run your hands down your chest.

"I’ll take that as a yes."

Ashton was an avid smoker. You, not so much. But on the off chance he was willing to roll and smoke you up, it was very rarely that you’d say no. Ash loved to smoke with you, you loved to smoke with Ash.

It was a match made in heaven.

"Whatdaya’ think the guys are doing right now?" Ashton always blurts whatever the fuck is on his mind. High, or not.

"Mmmh, I’m not sure… Probably sleeping." It took you a minute to gain the moisture back in your throat in order to reply.

"Fuckin’ losers. They don’t know what they’re missing. I wonder if any of ‘em are staying up late…"

You can’t help but let a dreamy sigh fall past your lips, before leaning over to put out the joint over your shared bedside ashtray.

"I don’t know much about them, but I know about me n’ you."

While Ashton’s hands are dead-bolted to your waist, yours roam his torso, toying with the black button-down he had slipped on after leaving stage. You fumble with the buttons, mess with the collar, all with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

"Can I help you?" Ashton sighs, rather sarcastically, starting his own trail of greedy fingertips.

"You know what I want."

"I'm not sure I do, my girl. Need you to be more specific..."

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," your hands find the first button of his shirt, "I want you."

It isn't long before all of Ashton's buttons are undone and your lips are leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, making headway towards the buckle of his jeans. He whines beneath you, hands wandering along the motions of you as you shift down his body.

"Fuck me, you're an angel," he sighs dreamily, but you just smile between kisses, already feeling the wetness pooling in your lower half.

"Am I?"

"Mhmm, heaven told me so."

With his words, you shoot up to his eye level, giving him a good stare down before slamming your lips onto his. He melts into the kiss, as do you, still writhing beneath you for any inch of release.

His tongue explores your mouth, searching for something sweeter than the feeling of his own stoned mind. Your hands caress his face; his cheeks feeling much softer than usual.

"Oh, Ashton—" You whine, not long before his teeth are sinking viciously into your bottom lip.

A hiss falls past your teeth, his blistered palms gripping your exposed sides for dear life and pushing you down onto his growing erection.

His direction of kisses starts to lead towards your jaw— then your neck, then your chest.

"Want me that badly, hmm?" You coo to him, somewhat condescendingly. All he can do is hum beneath you, absolutely mesmerized by the taste of your skin.

"You know I fuckin' do."

As he works his way back up your throat, he leaves hickies in his trails. Also known as, a story to tell the band tomorrow.

"Hey, Dracula— knock it off. We've got a show tomorrow." You giggle, as Ashton pops his head up with wide eyes. He still looks entranced by you. Could’ve been the weed, but you swore you could see little cartoon hearts bursting within his irises.

"You’re right, you’re right—"

Ashton begins to toy with the hemline of your skirt, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he practically undresses you with his eyes.

"Want this off?" You ask, motioning towards the article of clothing in question.

He thinks for a moment, rolling his mouth inward on itself and seemingly picturing the whole ordeal before it’s even began.

"Nuh uh. Keep it on— I like it."

"Can’t really argue with that," You shrug casually, as if being high and now horny wasn’t already causing the both of you enough grief.

Ashton clears his throat, grabbing your attention away from his wandering fingertips.

"Hey, wanna try somethin’?" he mumbles, his tone a bit whiny. Needy.

"Hm?"

"Want you to ride my face."

Your eyes widen, face flushing of color as your mindless hip rocking comes to a slow. You can barely compute what he had just asked of you, let alone find enough saliva in your throat to reply.

"Wh—"

"You don’t have to— If ya don’t wanna. Just thought it’d be fun, y’know, since we’re lookin’ for ways to pass time."

You chuckle lowly, regaining your confidence as you watch his eyes shimmer just from looking at you.

"Baby, I don’t think that’d pass much time," you sigh, stomach lurching at merely the thought of it.

A smile spreads across Ashton’s cheeks, "Why not? Don’t want me to tease you with my tongue ‘till you can’t take it anymore? I’d say I could get a good thirty minutes out of that."

"That— that’s unfair!" You screech, the butterflies in your stomach dancing along and making you shiver.

"Don’t think so. Especially since you hogged the joint. Smoked all my fuckin’ weed. I’d say we’re equal."

"Kiss my ass, Irwin." you bite back.

"God, I’d love to."

You and Ash have tried a lot of things as a couple, but this opened a completely new door. At this rate, as late as it was, you were willing to do just about anything to get your hands on your pretty boy.

"Y’know what? Fine… Let’s fuckin’ do it."

You finally give him the reply he’d been waiting for. His eyes practically shoot out of his head when he hears it.

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

Ashton tosses his head back into the plush pillows, running his hands up your waist and finding himself beneath your spandex shirt, "Gonna' make a meal outta you, baby. Promise it'll be worth it."

With his words, you're dipping back down to kiss him, feeling his hips eagerly bucking up into yours and revealing just how hard he was beneath his jeans.

"Need you," he whispers into your lips, "please. Soon?"

His incoherent babbling was already telling you everything you needed to know, his breathing picking up with the slight feeling of release he was getting by feeling you through the confines of fabric.

"Sit tight, pretty baby. Let me get situated." You part from his lips, planting one last kiss on his cheek before you're de-straddling yourself from his hips.

Your eyes zone in on his, reaching beneath your skirt to meticulously dance your way out of your lacy panties, as per his request for your skirt to stay on.

He watches through hooded eyes, discreetly moving his hand to palm himself through his jeans. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, as you partially undress yourself.

"Slow down, tiger. Save some for me."

"You're not making it any easier, ya’ tease." He grumbles, the corners of his mouth coming to a catty point.

You decided that a strip tease was enough, already feeling bad for making him wait this long. A nervous swirl settles in your stomach; having never done this before, you weren't sure what to expect.

But you knew that whatever was about to happen, Ashton would make it worth wild.

"C'mere," Ashton calls to you with two fingers, and you oblige, straddling his lap once again as his hands find you like a magnet.

"Where do you want me?"

"On my face."

You scoff, "Well duh, Ash."

"I'm serious. Don't know if I can go another fuckin' minute without your thighs as my earmuffs. Get up here. Now."

"Yes sir," you joke, shifting upward on his body. Your bare core was hovering over his chest, and he was practically drooling at the sight of you.

He gives you a quick asking glance, eyes wide and glassy as they had been since the second you two stepped off of the tour bus. You could tell how elated he was merely from the size of his pupils.

"Ready?" He asks gently, noticing you lingering.

"Think so." You suck in a deep breath, finding comfort in your boyfriend's eyes.

"Gonna start nice and slow. Nothin' to worry about." He runs a hand up your thigh, pushing up your skirt and exposing your body to him a little more.

"What makes you think I'm worried?" you quip.

"I can just see it in your eyes, baby."

The room did feel like it was spinning, but you were more bashful than nervous. But you could tell that Ashton didn’t care about the semantics of it all.

He just wanted to taste you.

After taking a moment to regain your confidence, you raise your hips. Ashton shifts down below you, peeking under your skirt at the mess you’ve already made of yourself.

"So wet, already? Damn Y/N, I’ve barely even touched you yet."

"You talk a big game for a man who practically melts when I call him pretty."

Ashton rolls his eyes, "Less talking, more ‘sit on my fuckin’ face, please’."

His hands cradle the backs of your thighs, which makes you sigh. You loved the feeling of his weathered palms; and how tenderly they scraped against your skin. Being high was only furthering that euphoria, enough to distract you from how antsy you were.

You finally let yourself lower onto his face, immediately feeling his nose nudging against your clit.

"Shit—" you hiss, for Ashton wastes no time in licking a healthy stripe up your slit.

Your muscles start to relax as his tongue moves within you, paying attention to your sounds and the jolts of your hips. He braces himself on your thighs, as you look down to see his face engulfed by your flesh and the fabric of your skirt.

"Can— can I watch?" You ask through shaky breaths, only for Ashton to knock his nose against your clit once again and release a moan from the back of your throat.

When he hums in response, a course of electricity shocks your veins. You knew that meant he was saying yes, but the feeling of him vibrating against your core brought your heart rate to double.

You start to rock your hips slowly, feeding into the motions of his tongue chipping away at you. You reach your hands down to lift your skirt, only to reveal two bright green eyes staring back at you between your thighs.

The sight of him beneath you, so eager to please you, could’ve had you cumming right on the spot. But you were enjoying this far too much to let it end right now.

"Ash, oh my god—" You whimper, the combination of his pleading eyes and nimble tongue having you doubled over in ecstasy.

You’re too busy staring down at him to notice how he’d closed his eyes and started to move faster. The speed at which his tongue was lapping against you brought your hands to fly to your chest. You started to pinch your own nipples above your shirt, but Ash was quick to notice.

His arm shoots up to knock against yours, moving it out of the way so that he could get his greedy hands on your tits.

"Fuck— please, please," you beg, although you weren’t really sure what you were begging for. It was taking everything in your power to hold off on your orgasm and enjoy this for as long as possible.

You look down at his face again to see the tip of his nose glittering with your arousal, sweaty black curls stuck, and rearranged to his forehead.

You can’t help but smile, letting out a few more whines and whimpers as you grind your hips. He was still toying with your nipple, but made the executive decision to slide his hand beneath your shirt.

He pinches your nipple between his fingers, receiving pleasure merely from the sounds slipping past your lips. Your entire body felt like it was set ablaze, your core warm and fuzzy from the weed and attention you were receiving from your boyfriend’s tongue.

"Ash, please—" You plead again, as Ashton’s hand switches to massaging your entire breast, still working up into you and lapping at your clit from time to time. "—Gonna cum’ soon."

A muffled groan could be heard from beneath you, sending a course of electricity through your veins. He was letting you know that he heard you loud and clear, but he wasn’t quite ready to give in just yet.

When the feeling of your impending orgasm gets to be too much, you start to panic.

"Wait— I—"

Without thinking, you lift yourself off of his face, instantly whining at the loss of contact from his mouth and the feeling of accidentally edging yourself.

“Baby, my God," he sighs, breathlessly, “don’t stop. Need— need you t’ cum on my face.”

His cheeks are slick with your arousal, lips glistening as he darts his tongue out to clean some of it off.

"Are you sure?" You mumble in return, still slightly dizzy from the whirlpool happening in your lower half. But Ashton then anchors his hands on your waist, giving your flesh a gentle, pleading squeeze.

"Yes please, baby. Fuckin’ soak me. Let me taste you while you cum for me."

He’s nodding frantically, reciprocating that energy of never wanting this moment to end.

"Ashton, I--"

"Keep saying my name, darlin'. Sounds so fuckin' hot comin' out of your mouth."

You can’t shake the feeling of your orgasm being on the brink for any longer, so you waste no time. His heavy breathing and bloodshot eyes has your stomach in knots.

You re-mount his face, starting your rhythm of rocking hips once more in time with his tongue.

That wave of bliss hits you again, picking up right where you had left off. You’re whining and groaning, still feeling his fingertips digging into you and holding you stable.

"Oh, Ashton."

He groans beneath you at the angelic sound of his name rolling off of your tongue. For extra stability while you grind into him, your grasp flies to the headboard, holding on tightly as you ride out your high.

"I’m so close, Ash… keep— keep going… fuck!"

Your body was shifting into overdrive, your head tossing back to let out a guttural whine from your chest.

”I’m— I’m cumming… Fuck, Ashton!"

The knot in your stomach finally snaps, sending a wave of chills rumbling down your limbs and practically taking the headboard off of the wall with the sheer force of your orgasm.

You whine as the sensation rolls out, gradually slowing down your rhythmic hips above your boyfriend, who was as stiff as a board.

"Ashton, holy fucking shit," you giggle, letting out a long sigh. But he was unresponsive. You look down between your thighs again at those glowing fern eyes, pupils large and wavering.

"You good, pretty boy?" You move to sit on his chest, his head resting between your knees and revealing that slicked face for a second time. His shocked, lust-fueled expression morphs into a wicked smile, before he runs his hands up and down the tops of your thighs.

"You're fuckin' crazy."

You shrug, "What can I say? You bring out the best in me."

He laughs again, taking a moment to breathe and run a hand through his sweaty charcoal curls.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he breathes, still admiring your body as if he hadn't just sent it into shock.

"What? You asked for it."

"Honestly, I could go again."

"I know we've got time but let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you tut, taking a hand to grab his cheeks, still between your legs, "A warm bath would definitely be nice, though. I'm still a kinda high."

He nods, "I could do that, yea... But the question is whether or not that tub is big enough for the both of us."

"Who said you were invited?" you joke.

"After what just happened on my face? Baby, I think ya' owe me one."

Your head was still a tad foggy so naturally, you found yourself giggling at everything coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. He smiles up at you warmly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

"Hey, what time is it anyway?"

"Not too late for you to run me a bath, if that's what you're implying."

He scoffs, using his broad hands to shift you down onto his lap so that he could sit upright.

"It's never too late for a bath, darlin'. I just wanted to know if I killed some time." He turns his head to glance over at the alarm clock on the bedside table, as do you.

"1:30." You say in unison.

"And only..." he looks at his wrist, acting as if he has on a watch, "...seven and a half more hours 'till call time."

Both you and Ashton laugh, while he's still tracing little heart patterns along your legs. "What if we took a seven and a half hour bath?" You suggest, feeding off of his teasing energy.

"We'd come out looking like fuckin' prunes."

"I'd say it's worth it...if it meant seven and a half more hours with you."

He moves his wandering hands to cup your face, cocking his head subtly to the side. You felt the sparks practically flying off of his fingertips as he looks at you with a beaming grin.

"Seven and a half hours doesn't mean a thing. We've got all the time in the goddamn world."

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#ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #5sos #5sos fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #soupster requests

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beansmack2021 · 1 year

Text

Golden Era w/ Prompt 14

Now in their Fifth Year at Hogwarts, Mattheo and the Reader are in a happy relationship. Of course, with Professor Umbridge as the new Headmistress, they can't show it. They resort to longing glances in the halls and passing notes in their classes. They can get away with it in most other classes, but Umbridge still teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts...

TW: mentions of blood, open wounds, torture.

"Hold my hand. You're going to be fine"

Mattheo and Y/N had more or less mastered the art of discretion. They had to if there was any hope for their relationship with Dolores Umbridge around. She'd gone on a power trip, her Educational Decrees posted all around Hogwarts.

Number 31 said that boys and girls could not be within 8 inches of each other. Y/N had found that decree to be particularly ridiculous, especially when considering Quidditch practices and games, the teams being comprised of both girls and boys. Speaking of Quidditch, they also weren't allowed to fly unless at an official, authorized practice.

There were ways around the rules. Mattheo had managed to successfully sneak Y/N into their common room in the dungeons on several occasions, and nobody in Slytherin or Gryffindor dared to report them. Especially not since Draco was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and one of their best friends. He'd threatened members of their own house with telling Umbridge about their rulebreaking if they said anything about Mattheo and Y/N (on several occasions).

Sneaking into an out of the common room was risky with Filch and Mrs. Norris prowling the halls, so those visits were few and far between. Since many of the other professors disagreed with Professor Umbridge's crazy decrees, they let a lot slide in their classes. This included note passing, which was Mattheo's favorite form of discreet flirting.

"The whole school should be bowing before your beauty", "Your smile tears me apart in all the best ways", and "Each wait between visits pulls apart at my soul, and your kiss is the only thing that can put it back together" were some of the notes Y/N would open and furiously blush about, even hours after receiving them. Professor McGonagall, who disliked Umbridge more than anyone else, was the most lenient with note passing.

Mattheo got his high from breaking the rules in Umbridge's class. He'd turn from his seat in front of her and give her a peck on the lips when Umbridge had her back turned, earning claps on the back from Blaize every time he got away with it. He'd pass back the sweetest notes, and usually Y/N could read it quickly enough and then hide it under her papers and continue to pretend taking notes while actually writing her response.

Usually.

"I'd love you from light-years away, 8 inches is nothing."

Her wide grin quickly turned to a mask of neutrality as Umbridge called her name. "Miss L/N, while I'd be thrilled if you were to prove me wrong, I'm sure you don't find the Theory of Magic so riveting as to grin like a baboon receiving a banana. Show me what you have."

Y/N picked up the note, knowing well what was about to happen, and held the note out to Umbridge. The moment the borish woman had touched the paper, however, it folded itself into a bird, flitted just above reach, and burst into flames. The ashes fell back onto the table like snow, a red rose resting on top of what once was a love note.

"I'm going to ask you once. Who handed you that note?" Umbridge smiled but it looked more like a grimace. She leaned in and said quietly, "Tell me who it was and your punishment won't be as severe." Y/N locked eyes with Mattheo just briefly enough that Umbridge didn't notice, looked back at her and simply shook her head. Umbridge stood up and brushed some non-existent dust from her dress. "Very well then. Detention! My office at 5 o'clock," she leaned in again to finish her sentence with a wicked grin, "sharp."

"I'm so sorry, love. I didn't think she'd have seen it." Mattheo was groveling. He felt absolutely horrible, and Y/N he did, but it was her own fault for not putting the note down sooner. She'd reminded him of that over and over again, but still, he'd apologized relentlessly. She'd just sighed and wolfed down some ham and a roll before heading to Umbridge's office to serve her time.

Umbridge opened the door just as she was about to knock. "Ah, punctuality. We may just be out of here before midnight. Come in. Sit."

Y/N glanced around the room. The walls were bright pink and there were ceramic plates with cats on them, prowling about, not unlike the moving portraits throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Everything in the room was very... pink. Y/N supposed to woman who lived there was, too. She noticed some parchment and a quill at a small desk in the center of the room. She also noticed that there was no ink pot. She took her seat, and Umbridge sat at the bigger desk in the corner of the room.

"You'll write 'I will not be insubordinate' until I tell you that you may stop." Y/N was confused. "Professor, I don't have any ink." The woman chuckled and it sent a chill down her spine. "You won't need any. Begin."

Y/N picked up the quill and started to write on the paper, instantly met with searing pain. She looked at her hand and gasped. There were deep cuts in her own messy scrawl, reading exactly what she'd written on the paper. They healed over before her eyes, and she glanced at the paper.

"Is this-"

"Your blood? That it is. Neat little thing, isn't it?" Umbridge just smiled and then turned back to her paperwork.

Y/N knew things would only get worse for her if she didn't do as she was told, so she picked up the quill and continued to write, grimacing with pain each time the skin on her hand healed over.

After a few hours, the pen couldn't do much to heal her hand. She was smearing her own blood on her hand before continuing to write. She was nearly numb to the pain now, tears in her eyes as Umbridge asked her a question.

"Do you have something to say?"

Y/N was unblinking as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I will not be insubordinate."

"Good girl. I'll write you a note in case one of our wonderful prefects stops you so that you don't end up right back here," she giggles and Y/N shakes violently. "Go directly to your dormitory, do not make any unauthorized stops along the way, unless you intend to use the restroom. Have a good night, and I'll see you in class tomorrow, Miss L/N."

Y/N couldn't find it in herself to go to the restroom, though. She walked straight up to Gryffindor Tower, Godric's painting swinging open for her, with almost an apologetic look. It was like the founder's portrait was saying "I'm sorry for what our institution has turned into." Y/N sees Hermione, Ron and Harry chatting on the couches in the center of the common room. Hermione glances over and immediately stands as she lets out a sob.

"Y/N! You've been in Umbridge's office for hours. She must have been really furious after... your hand!" She scurries over as Y/N looks down and sees the blood still dripping from her hand. "She made you use the quill, didn't she?" Harry doesn't seem shocked at all. She can't seem to make the words come out, so she just nods. "Madam Pomfrey loaned me a roll of tape and some gauze, just in case someone else from our house has to put up with Umbridge's torture. Hermione, do you want to clean her hand while I grab that stuff from my dorm?"

Hermione nods and grabs one of the throw blankets from the couch, whispering Aguamenti and wiping her hand with the wet cloth. Harry is back with the tape and gauze just as Hermione is dabbing her hand to dry it, grimacing each time Y/N hisses in pain. He covers it tightly enough that the bleeding would stop within the next few minutes, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.

"Who passed you the note, Y/N? It was Mattheo, right?" Hermione elbowed Ron. "Ow! What? I was just asking. Quick thinking with the fire." Y/N shook her head. "That wasn't me. We charm the paper we use to pass our notes so that they aren't there in case we're caught. We've never been caught, so I didn't know his would do that. The ink just vanishes from mine when someone other than him and I touches the paper."

Hermione nods, seemingly impressed. "It's very late, I think we should all get some rest. Won't be learning properly if we're all exhausted." She heads up the stairs to her dorm, and Ron and Harry exchange a look before standing, stretching, and heading up the stairs to their own. Y/N just sits on the couch for a while, tracing the words 'I will not be insubordinate' over her bandages.

She doesn't say anything to anyone at breakfast, and is silent in her other classes. Mattheo doesn't try to hand her any notes, but he does cast worried glances and try to make eye contact, but Y/N can't look at him. She can't look at anyone. She's afraid that if she does, Umbridge will accuse her of some other act of insubordination and she'll end up right back in the disgustingly pink office.

She's a model student throughout the rest of the day, hurrying from the room after her last class of the day, Potions. A hand covers her mouth and pulls her through the portrait doorway of the Slytherin common room. She immediately panics, dropping her books and turns to try to leave without them so that she isn't caught somewhere she isn't supposed to be, but a pair of strong arms wrap around her, making hushing noises that are meant to calm her as she sobs.

When she finally calms down enough to stop fighting, Mattheo turns her to face him. He wipes a tear from her cheek, and she looks down. "Oh, baby" he says quietly, heartbreak clear in his tone. He brushes some hair from her face. She starts crying, sobs wracking her body, and he pulls her into his arms. He has one hand at the nape of her neck, the other around her upper back, shushing her once again. When she's calm, he uses his hand to push her chin up. "Look at me."

Y/N forces herself to meet his gaze. Her lip quivers and she sees sorrow and empathy in his deep, brown eyes. He doesn't have to utter a single word for her to know what he's trying to say. He grabs her hand, thankfully the one that isn't wrapped, and walks her to one of the sofas in the middle of the room. He sits down, hand on her hips to hold her close to him, just looking up at her.

Y/N starts to pick at the bandages on her hand, the nervousness from before creeping up into her again. She looks towards the door, expecting Filch to suddenly burst into the room and drag her by her hair all the way up to Umbridge's office. Mattheo pulls her out of her thoughts, gingerly grabbing her wrist to exam the bandages. He slowly and carefully peels them back to look at the damage.

She sees his jaw clench and unclench and then clench again, and there's a dangerous look in his eyes. He takes a deep breath, gently covering the cuts that are sure to scar, and kisses the rebandaged hand. "I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry."

Y/N is violently shaking again as she sobs, and he grabs her uninjured hand. "Hold my hand. You're going to be fine. I'm here. I'm sorry. I love you so much."

He stands, crossing the room to grab something resting on the mantle. He turns, a red rose in his hand. He hands it to her, and as she takes it, he presses a kiss to her forehead. He holds her close as she twirls the rose between her fingers. "That bitch will pay. Someday, she'll pay." It's a promise that he makes to her, and to himself. "I'm sorry. I love you."

#mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaize zabini #theodore nott #enzo berkshire #slytherin #slytherin boys #x reader #reader insert #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #golden era

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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years

Text

Centuries Apart || Aemond Targaryen x got!Reader part 1

Requested by: @caspianobsessed

CHAPTER LIST

A/N: so I’m obsessed with this idea and would really love to turn this into a series so let me know if you’d be interested xx

Summary: Y/N is from the game of thrones era, the younger sister of Daenerys, but after the fall of her house and the throne being taken away once again, she has no choice but to go back in time to where it all went wrong, trying to change the fate of House Targaryen. But will anyone from that era even believe her? What price will she have to pay?

Warnings: angst, idk if this would be considered incest tbh lol, game of thrones spoilers

This was not how the story was supposed to end. No, the iron throne was meant to be hers, it belonged to her, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the house which had built this very kingdom, now burned to ashes and the rightful heir, slain by her own kin.

But it was not all of House Targaryen that had perished. There was one last dragon left, Y/N Targaryen, The Silver princess , the youngest daughter of the Mad King. The realm thought the princess had died, perhaps not long after her own sister yet she was destined to live, her limp body pulled from under the crumbled walls of the keep and brought to Volantis. Kinvara was her name, the name of Y/N’s savior, the very same red priestess who had once advised Daenerys.

“How did you get there? Why did you save me?” Y/N groaned from pain as she tried to get up.

“The Lord of Light saved you, you were meant to live” she simply replied without even turning to look at the girl.

“They betrayed her. He betrayed her. He is not a true Targaryen, Jon Snow will always be a cowardice bastard” the princess hissed, thoughts of the traitorous actions of her nephew, filling her with burning rage. “We won their battle, my sister sacrificed her dragons, her only children and now the legacy that our ancestors built once again has fallen in the hands of usurpers” tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Pulling at weeds won’t cure what was caused by a seed planted centuries ago” Kinvara recited, staring at the burning flames, as if caught in a trance.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N’s face twisted in confusion.

“You can’t change the future when it was set in stone in the past” the red priestess continued, finally turning around as she slowly walked towards the wounded princess. “There is only one way to ward off the doom of House Targaryen and that is to go back to the era, responsible for the present.

“You mean Robert’s Rebellion?” the girl inquired, still not making sense of Kinvara’s words.

“No, my dear. The damage was done many decades before” the red woman gently took her hand “I can help you go back in time, though you must know every minor action in the past is bound to change the future”

“I don’t think I understand. What am I supposed to do?” Y/N looked up, her violet gaze widened with bewilderment.

“The Lord Of Light saved you for a reason child, he will guide you there” she said, handing her a small mirror, its glass black as night “But will you ever return, I can’t answer that”

“If I’m not to return, how will I know if I’ve changed the fate?”

“You will” the red priestess reverted her gaze back to the burning flames. “But do make your own decision, there is no going back”

A great sacrifice this was for the young princess, throwing her life away, leaving behind all she’d known. But what really did she have left? Everything she ever loved, now gone, the lands of her ancestors, usurped by traitors, the magnificent dragons, sigil of her house, long perished. There was nothing keeping her here.

“I’ll do it, for my house, for House Targaryen”

The following moments were a foggy blur for Y/N, she had no recollection of the events after she had spoken her consent. Was it all a fever dream, caused by the milk of the poppy? She cautiously got up, all the pain from her wounds now gone, then she knew. It wasn’t a dream. She was no longer in Volantis.

Everything looked so familiar yet so different, the girl wandered through the busy streets, trying to figure out where she was. Clutching at the hood of her black cloak, Y/N then saw it, the red keep. The very same magnificent castle that just days ago had been burned down to ashes, now standing tall as the banners, blowing in the wind, displaying the dragon sigil, the sigil of House Targaryen, her house. The princess’s eyes welled up as she indulged in the scenery before her, a scenery she had started to believe her eyes would never see.

Distracted by her thoughts Y/N hadn’t noticed the civilians trying to pass by her, until an angry merchant pushed her so hard that she fell right into someone’s arms.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t-“ the girl started apologizing to the person she was thrown into but as soon as her eyes met his, all words suddenly left her.

The man had only one eye, the other covered by an eyepatch, yet as soon as that familiar violet gaze of his met her own, she knew, a Targaryen, just like her.

The man before her was left just as speechless, gently picking up a silver lock of Y/N’s hair as her hood had fallen from the push. But before the girl could comprehend the situation, her back was met with the cold stonewall of a nearby building as the man’s hands were now firmly holding at her neck.

“Who are you?” he hissed, squeezing harder as his eye widened, directly staring at hers.

“My prince, don’t forget why we came here” a dark haired man pulled at her captor’s shoulder “Let's not bring unnecessary attention to ourselves”

“Take her to the castle and make sure no one sees you” the one eyed man commanded with no emotion harshly releasing the breathless girl, leaving her gasping for air. “I’ll seek to my brother’s whereabouts”

His companion tried to object but to no avail, so he sighed, pulling Y/N’s hood over her head of silver locks and grabbed at her arm.

“Who are you, where are you taking me? Let go!” The princess finally spoke but her screams were muffled by his gloved hand so she had no choice but to oblige and follow the older man.

He led her through the crowds of people without a single word of explanation leaving his lips. As they reached the castle, he dragged the helpless girl to a tucked away passage by the cliffs surrounding the Red Keep, leading her through a seemingly endless spiral staircase then pushing her into a small chamber at the very top of the tower.

“You’re to stay here until prince Aemond returns” the man finally spoke “Don’t think of trying to escape”

“Prince Aemond” Y/N’s eyes widened, of course, that explained the eyepatch. Her brother Viserys used to tell her and Dany stories about the tragedy of The Dance of Dragons, she vividly remembered the tale of the one eyed prince, the rider of Vhagar, the kinslayer. This same man who just moments ago had almost strangled her to death, she slid her fingers over the red markings on her neck. What had she gotten herself into

The sun was beginning to set as Y/N’s exhaustion prevailed and she drifted into a light slumber on the dusty daybed only for a fumble of keys to wake her up. And there he was again, Aemond One Eye Targaryen, standing before her, a living proof that none of the prior events were a mere dream.

“Now speak woman, who are you?” The prince said with the same emotionless voice from earlier.

Y/N stood up in front of him, getting a better view of his face. Now that he wasn’t wearing his hood she could finally see the so distinctive silver Targaryen locks falling over his shoulders and across his chest. The princess had never seen any other Targaryen beside her late siblings and it was almost as if she was looking at them through his so familiar violet gaze.

“I’m Y/N. Y/N of House Targaryen” the girl replied, new found confidence in her words.

The man let out a hoarse laugh as he pushed her against the wall.

“This does not true Targaryen make” he taunted, picking up a lock of her silver hair “Now tell me, who are you really? Perhaps one of my uncle’s bastards, a daughter of a whore of his?”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his crude words, unable to contain her rage at the insult of her heritage, she slapped the prince with full force across his smug face. Aemond let out an angry growl but as he turned back his head, the girl had managed to escape his grip and was already running down the stairwell.

The poor girl was in a complete state of frenzy as she was rushing through the long corridors of the keep, not taking a moment to catch her breath. How could she fail her task so quickly, how could she let her guard down, maybe she should’ve never accepted the red priestess’ offer.

Suddenly she bumped into a cold piece of metal, the bewildered face of a guard staring down at her, the girl tried to fight back and get away but to no avail as she was being escorted to the throne room.

“Your grace, this woman was running through the hallways. I don’t know how she got here” the guard said, pushing the princess to her knees in front of the iron throne.

Y/N cursed under her breath as she lifted her head. The iron throne, the very throne her beloved sister had so deeply longed for, the very throne that was to be taken from them, the very throne that was to be burned into ashes.

A boy, not too much older than her was sitting before her, the same silver hair, the same violet eyes, she knew this had to be king Aegon II, the king who had usurped the rightful heir, princess Rhaenyra. There were two other people standing beside him who Y/N assumed to be no other than his mother, queen Alicent Hightower and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. They were all staring speechless at the princess as if she were a rare dangerous creature.

“Do not fret mother, undoubtedly one of Daemon’s bastards” Aemond spat in disgust as he had just entered the throne room.

“I’m not a bastard!” the girl yelled, finally standing up. She tried to hit the prince once again but this time he caught her hand so she spat in his good eye.

“You little-” Aemond cursed in disgust but was cut off by Otto.

“Silence” the older man stood up “You, who are you, who sent you?”

“I’m no bastard” the girl spoke throwing a glance of disgust at Aemond “I am Y/N of House Targaryen, the Silver Princess, daughter of The Mad King, Aerys Targaryen”

“What blasphemous nonsense are you speaking?” Alicent’s voice trembled with hints of dread “Is this one of Rhaenyra’s tricks?”

“I know this sounds insane, but you have to believe me” Y/N pleaded in desperation “I was sent back here from centuries ahead to change the fate of House Targaryen”

“She’s completely mad” Aegon laughed “Take her to the dungeons”

“No! Wait, please! You have to help me” Y/N screamed as she was being dragged out by the guard. She was pulling and kicking at him but he was much stronger than her and kept walking until something fell to the ground, making a rattling sound. Her little mirror from Kinvara.

A bright beam of light stemmed out of the black glass, morphing into vivid images of the past and of the future right until the very moments of Y/N’s life.

The hall had gone completely silent, everyone staring in disbelief, it felt like time had stopped.

“So you were telling the truth?” Otto finally broke the silence, his face pale as a ghost.

“Yes, I told you” the princess replied with a new stroke of confidence, finally releasing herself from the guard’s grasp “I can help you win the war. I know the future”

“Why should we trust her?” Alicent intervened before her father was able to respond “She’s a witch, what if this is all a ploy?”

“Enough Alicent” Otto cut off his daughter, a devious smirk playing on his lips as he approached the girl “She can prove us a valuable weapon”

“And how can we ensure her loyalty?” Aemond shook his head.

“Perhaps becoming your wife and bearing your heirs will keep her faithful” Otto grinned, caressing Y/N’s silver locks.

Tag list:

@ellathefriendlyalpacaaa

@believeinthefireflies95

@caspianobsessed

@hayoooos-blog

@kitkat-writes-stuff

@rhaenyracole

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #house targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic

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eggtartz · 2 years

Note

Omg I just came up with this idea😳 Can you do a Tokyo Revengers Y/n but like one that matches Evil, So Y/n becomes a Bonten executive in the future but she's like such a dangerous one, everyone in Bonten is dangerous, but like Y/n took that to a whole another level😨

and so her future daughter time leaps to warn them about this, (You can choose whoever the father is) and so her future daughter is telling Takemichi and all of them: 'Evil, I've come to tell you that she's evil most definitely' Her daughter tells them that and then she wants them to stop her from joining the Kanto Manji Gang but she timeleaps into the Toman timeline where the Kanto Manji Gang wasn't found back then and where Mikey still lead Toman.

"Evil, I've come to tell you that she's evil, most definitely"

-(D/n) (Daughter Name)

a/n : i like the way you're thinking anon, rakes my brain a lot <3 thankyou for the request and enjoy!

masterlist

summary : "evil, i've come to tell you that she's evil most definitely"

"any last words manjiro?" you asked the tired man who was cornered by his own members that were tied on the chairs. the string that tied the members tightly would pull the gun's trigger if anyone made a movement leaving the bonten's member to no choice.

"at least, keep the child" manjiro sano said exhaustingly before kicking haruchiyo's foot that made him wince, automatically triggering the gun and shot all of them in the same time. blood splattered on your check as you observed your beloved bonten's members corpses on the ground. satisfied, you went to a bathroom and saw kakucho on a stacks of planks with a tub underneath. kakucho was unconscious so you slspped him awake. he shooked his head and tried to stay awake, upon seeing you he struggled againts the bounds on his hands.

"fuck y/n let me go. why are you betraying us like this huh? the child would be enough to be the bonten's legacy, why?" he shouted at you as you poured acid in the tub underneath him and dunked his head in the tub. kakucho's scream was muffled so you pulled his head up and saw his face almost disfigured, the acid holds worse consequences.

"you see kaku, in this world there can be a queen and king. my daughter would be leading the gang and build a new era far more greater than bonten. i need mikey dead. the queen can still live without it's king" you pulled the stacks of the planks and kakucho lost balance and accidentally dropped his head in the acidic water again, burning his face.

he screamed again, his face melting but still alive. "and i will rule japan and everyone in it once you and your members die so good luck kakucho. say greetings at the others for me" you kissed his melted skin where his scar used to be and pulled all the planks stacks and kakucho with no choice of gravity had to dip his head and gasp for air and repeated the same process until he died.

satisfied watching the members die in agony, you came out from the headquarters where you used to live and turned on the kitchen stove. you poured flammable liquids everywhere and the whole place started to burn down. soon, the bonten's headquarters was down in ashes while you looked down at the remaining members of bonten, them already bowing at you titling you as their new leader.

you got into the car where you headed to your secret mansion where you had a daughter with mikey. mikey wanted a domestical life so you married him while you were a kantou manji member however you grew greedy for power as your daughter was born. you knew mikey would make her lead bonten and you didn't want that, you want her to lead something far more bigger, achieve great powers.

so you did what you had to do. kill your beloved lover and his friends.

your daughter knew what you did, you didn't even concealed the blood on your body saying that she must be know the harsh world that she's living in. that night, your daughter couldn't sleep due to the cold acknowledgment of her own mother that killed a group of the most powerful men in the country.

your daughter was almost ten now, so she sneaked out to the park to take fresh air. she loved her mother so much but you have grown too cruel, too evil. she sat on the ground while staring at the moon, begging any power out there to give senses to her mom. anything, even if it cost her life. her very existence.

suddenly it started pouring and your daughter sighed loudly while running back to the mansion, thinking of a reason of why she sneaked out but she accidentally stepped on a pile of mud and slipped. her head knocked on a big rock and her sight started becoming dizzy and everything was swirling. she tried to get up and managed to hold onto the post lamp and walked back home only to find there was no home there. there wasn't even a building nearby.

she ran and ran until she bumped into someone. "dad?!" your daughter screamed, baffled at how you could have arrived here because yuud dad seemed to have blonde streaks unlike the black one he used to had. "who you calling dad kiddo?" a taller person beside your father who had a dragon tattoo asked while towering you.

mikey was munching on his dorayaki and was equally confused. "dad it's me your daughter!"

"mikey kun has a kid?" takemichi asked.

"dad you have to stop here and don't see mom! she'll kill you!"

"whoa there kid, mikey doesn't even talk to girls how can he have kids huh what you traveled time or something?"

"yes i did! my mom's name is y/n! in the future she'll kill you dad! she evil dad, i've come to tell you that she's evil!" now, the trio was baffled and gave each other weird looks too.

"are we talking about y/n under mitsuya or?" draken asked mikey and he nodded. there's only y/n mikey knows and that's you. you were the only girl in the division and it's only normal when most members has a crush on you but going to the point of having kids with you is beyond mikey's understanding. "look kid i don't know if you're talking or not but im telling you i won't even marry your mom i-"

"that's not it dad, you two weren't married in the first place. mom likes sunflowers doesn't she? she entered toman because grandma and grandpa had been cruel to her. she looked for you didn't she?"

it was true everything was true. mikey took you in toman because your parents would beat you up often. he sympathized you. takemichi calculated the odds, the kid is probably saying the truth he thought. "but what do you want me to do? i can't just throw y/n away from toman"

"you don't need to dad. you just need to say no to her and don't be with her, it's for your own sake dad" his daughter held his hand and her knees bucked. suddenly the grip was gone and she came back to the current future. she sighed again, thinking there's one in a million chances that her dad, mikey might've avoided his deadly fate and walked away.

you came back home and the surroundings were oddly different, before it was gloomy and dark but now the walls have wallpapers and paintings on them. she could hear music in the distance and saw you cooking happily in the kitchen. you dropped the ladle you were holding when you saw your daughter drenched "oh dear! what happened? did you went through the rain?" you worriedly asked, your daughter puzzled.

"mom, who's my dad? she titled her head. you bite back your tongue, getting confused at why she's behaving the way she is. "your father is takashi mitsuya honey. how can you forgot about your own father's name? now, stay here and let me dry you up okay"

turns out, mikey did loved you but the words of his future daughter kept ringing in his head so he told mitsuya to marry with you. you two were already dating when mikey was leading kantou manji so he knew, he did the right thing. even though it meant he lost his loved ones. even though it meant he would never get to hold his daughter.

a/n : the torture scenes are taken from the movie i spit on your grave if you're wanting a visual of it. beware it's very graphic!

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lillylvjy · 2 years

Text

All I want for Christmas (is for you to shut up)

Notes: heyyyy! Yes another short blurb!!! Anyways this is all for fun and it’s all banter because it’s the way lovejoy ( from ash’s videos) shows there love for each other. Very short but enjoy:)

Warnings: cursing, the meme era of lovejoy being themselves

Extra: Fluff ; Wilbur soot x reader

Summary: carpool karaoke with the band…… well maybe just you and Leandra….

Wilbur demanded you came with the band to the December gigs, which you had no problem with! You loved seeing them play and seeing them just be in their element.

But… when you and Leandra are in the same area…. That’s never not a good time. Everyone hated you guys when you started singing. And I mean hated.

You and the band were in a van together driving to your next location for the gig tonight, when All I want for Christmas is you by Mariah Carey starts playing. You and Lea look at each other and give each other a knowing look.

Leandra puts a hand to her mouth, like a microphone and start singing to you. “I… don’t want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing a need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree! Take it away y/n!” She tells you.

“I just want you for my own. More than you could ever know. Make my wish come trueeeee!” You sing, making a terrible attempt at the run as Wilbur starts laughing next to you, while everyone else groans.

“All I want, for Christmas. Is….. YOU!” You and Lea sing together and point at each other.

As you were about to sing your hearts out to the verse, David, turns the radio off. “Please, shut the fuck up. My ears are bleeding. Light heartedly.” He yells back here and everyone laughs, but you and Leandra pout.

“Screw you David. Our singing is beautiful right Ash?” You ask Ash, as he point his camera at you. He shakes the phone as a “no”. “ASH! You said it was yesterday!”

“Because you were actually trying!” Mark replies back. You roll your eyes and look at Wil.

“Is my singing good Wil?” you ask him, actually curious.

“Always my love. No matter if you try or not.” He says kissing your forehead and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You blush and nuzzle into his neck. He laughs and continues to look at his phone while holding you.

“What about my singing?!” Leandra ask everyone.

“Maybe stick to trumpet.” Mark says.

Taglist: @deadphantomsociety

#wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #wilbur x you #wilbur dream smp #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x reader #wilbur mcyt #x reader #lilly writes

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goldenjupiterz · 11 months

Text

until the end of time pt. 2 | immortal!han x immortal!fem!reader

part 1 | part 2

pairing — immortal!han x immortal!fem!reader

content warnings — time skips, some fluff stuff, mentions of death and arson, kinda angsty, not proofread

word count — 1.4k

summary — you fall in love with your mortal fiancé, not realizing that he's immortal like you are.

lowercase intended !

until the end of time pt.2 | immortal!han x immortal!fem!reader

february 10th, 1869

as it turns out, faking an entire family's death was much harder than it initially seemed. for one, everyone was bickering over new names and roles for the entire family, and trying to decide the place to move to was an absolute nightmare.

and of course, your family turned to you, the 'newbie' for each of these tasks. "it will be good experience." they said. "it's good practice." they said.

it was in fact neither. it was tedious, was what it was, and it was annoying that you were good at it. because despite them lying to you for 23 years of your life, you knew them well. they would end up putting all the work on you, as usual.

blinking a few stray tears away, you walked out of your house, lighting your match as you did so, before tossing it inside.

as everything burned to ashes, you thought about the lies throughout your life.

as everything burned to ashes, you thought about the home you've known your entire life.

as everything burned to ashes, you thought about your fiancé, knowing that he would think you were dead.

and as everything burned to ashes, you thought about the countless times you would have to do this, over, and over, and over again.

until the end of time.

april 23rd, 1930

"miss y/n!" a voice called. you turned around, plastering a soft smile on your face as you crouched down.

"what can i help you with?" as it turns out, teaching was something you'd come to do a lot over the years, and not because you had to, but because you actually enjoyed doing it.

of course, you made yourself older that you were, 32 instead of 23. no one would accept a teacher that young, and you'd made that mistake more than once.

you and your family restarted your lives every time someone got even a little suspicious, and it was exhausting. you wanted to have friends, have a life, but apparently you couldn't have either. teaching was the closest you could get.

"how do you say this word?" the girl - kai - asked, pointing to a page on her book. your heart jumped a bit as you saw the word and your smiled turned slightly forced.

"imm-or-tal." you sounded out, pointing to each syllable as you said it. "try it." you waited patiently as she sounded it back to you.

"thank you!" kai said, running back to her seat and continuing to read.

you smiled sadly after her, knowing that she would grow old before you ever did.

may 11th, 2000

soon, the 1900s era came to a close and the 2000s began, thus signaling it was time to your family to move to another country. this time, you picked australia, just to spite your mother who was deathly afraid of spiders.

the technology evolvement over the years was certainly something to get used to, and it took an extremely long time to learn the news was people talked.

unfortunately, that was something only you were willing to put the work into while the rest of your family members were fine with getting odd looks out of the street.

repeating college just to get the appropriate degree to teach over and over and over again was getting tedious and you were so tired of it. as much fun as college was and as much freedom as it gave you it wasn't something you ever wanted to go through again. it seemed with each new year, the workload seemed to pile up more and more.

but for now, at least, you were somewhat happy with were you were.

april 16th, 2022

you placed your airpods into your ears as the plane lifted off form the ground, watching as the ground below dropped away further and further. you sighed in relief, closing your eyes and leaning back in your seat.

you weren't sure flying was something you would ever get used to.

a finger tapped you on the shoulder and you opened one eye to peer at the girl next to you. "yeah, what's up?" you asked, trying to sound friendly and not like you were desperately in need of sleep.

"were are you headed?" the girl asked in a cheerful voice, giving you a big grin. you groaned at the interaction internally.

"la. i'm going to go see a concert." you said, hoping the conversation would end.

"me too!" she squealed. "stray kids, right?" when you nodded your head, she asked, "who's your bias?"

"i don't know them. at all." you said, shifting uncomfortably. "a friend of mine recommended i go see them but i didn't do any research beforehand."

"well, i'll get you caught up!" she said, pulling up a few images on her phone and beginning to explain them to you in great detail.

you squinted, leaning closer to the last image on her phone.

han?

well, you were screwed.

april 19th, 2022

the stadium was loud with cheering as stray kids finished their final song. fans waved their arms, shoving and pushing to be seen or heard.

you stood silently next to emeline, the girl you'd met on the plane. just your luck, you ended up sitting next to each other at the concert too, which was absolutely delightful.

she was generally sweet, but the main cause of your discomfort not her, but han. you were desperately avoiding eye contact with your ex fiancé, hoping he wouldn't notice you in the crowd.

you regretted coming to this concert. no, you regretted ever saying yes to your friend's crazy idea of you taking her ticket and going to the k-pop concert instead of her so you could 'live a little'. you regretted not leaving the minute you landed in la. you regretted faking your death, over and over. you regretted taking that match and throwing into your house. you regretted not telling han everything. you regretted the fact that he turned out to be like you.

you regretted the fact that you'd ever met him in the first place.

there were a lot of things you regretted these days.

april 19th, 2022 - three hours after the concert ended

getting lost in the dark and the rain when your phone had died was not a fun thing to do, especially when you'd been walking around, sopping wet, for three hours. you'd had to ask four different people on the street to use their phones to try and find your hotel, and it was still a half hour walk away.

you wish you'd accepted emeline's offer to give you a ride home.

you drummed your fingers on your phone case, as if that would miraculously make it come back to life. the black screen you were staring at stayed black.

things would be much easier if you had a map, something you'd be much more used to using, and something that wouldn't die on you in times of need. but alas, no one these days really used maps out on the street anymore, which was odd. they were extremely useful back in the 1900s.

you looked up as a car parked on the other side of the road and a familiar figure stepped out.

oh no.

"y/n?" he called out and you ducked your head, pretending you didn't hear him. in a few long strides, he crossed the road, and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "it is you." han breathed, his eyes wide in surprise. "how?"

"i'm an immortal. like you," you said, avoiding his eyes. "listen, i need to get back-"

"why didn't you tell me?" he asked, cutting you off, his brows furrowing, and you took a deep breath at his question.

"i didn't know there was anyone else like my family. i thought it would be better if you thought i was dead. you would've done the same thing eventually."

"that doesn't matter. you should've told me."

"and what would i say?" you snapped. "oh, i'm an immortal, and you're going to die long before i do? even if that wasn't true, think about it! it made more sense this way, and you know it." guilt swept through you as you say the look on his face at your words and you sighed. "i'm sorry. i was just so scared to lose you, i thought it would've been better and-"

he cut you again off by softly pressing his lips to your own, and you instinctively melted into the kiss. after a moment, he pulled away, pressing his forehead against you own.

and in that moment, you regretted nothing.

i will love you until the end of time.

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #imagine #han imagine #han jisung #skz #skz jisung #skz jisung imagine #hanjisung #han jisung imagine #han #goldenjupiterz

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