congressman!bucky barnes x wife!diplomat!reader
⤷ ft. matt murdock x reader
⸝⸝ SUMMARY — ❝ you'd both agreed it was for the best. bucky's new role as congressman, yours as US ambassador in london, meant that time zones, distance, and duty had slowly, but inevitably, unravelled what had once been a passionate marriage. but a divorce would be “bad for optics”. so the decision was made - publicly married, privately not. it works. mostly. until bucky shows up unannounced to your embassy party, finding you very cosy with your lawyer. and it turns out bucky barnes doesn't share what's his. ❞ ⧽ 41k
！SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, possessive!jealous!bucky, semi-public sex, praise kink, private separation but still together for public/PR (no cheating), mutual pining, angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, doll, pretty girl, good girl), 18+ MDNI
⤷ this list is not exhaustive, individual parts will have their own warnings <3
from maddie: chat… i’m cooking. like, slowly - think gentle simmer, not full boil - but cooking nonetheless! a pt ii is happening (though i can’t promise exactly when yet). hopefully it’s something people still want lmfao. i did promise myself i’d tackle my ever growing WIPs pile before coming back to these guys, but i just love them too much and got a sudden strike of inspiration soo… it’s being written as we speak!
i really really hope you love part ii when it's ready and that it lives up to pt. i, or i'll simply vanish into the night and you lot will never hear from me again (kidding) (i'm not) 🤍
⤷ PART TWO IS NOW POSTED!
MAIN MASTERLIST
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PARTS
PART ONE ⧽ 12.5k
PART TWO ⧽ 28.8k
BLURBS / FICLETS / HEADCANONS
bucky x reader early relationship | matt x reader smut
can we have some feral!daryl x reader where they are dating and how he is a boyfriend >~< i have a feeling that after getting together with he would tend to stalk her everywhere , but just to make sure she is fine ofc! >:)
What is it like “dating” feral!Daryl
It was never established that you and Daryl were dating. But both of you knew—you belonged to him and he belonged to you. You did call Daryl your boyfriend once. It was to a new group of survivors that came to Alexandria. You were open about it but Daryl is much more closed off, but you know how he feels and that’s all that matters.
“This is Daryl, he is my boyfriend” The words came out of your mouth giddily, like your some high school girl with a crush and you were definitely too old to act that way but it was okay. You just like him too much.
Daryl stood there awkwardly as he glanced at you and huffed. He turned his gaze to the new survivors as he backed away behind a tree. The new survivors thought he just walked off because they didn’t see him but oh—he is definitely still there and you knew it too well.
“Uh, he is not very friendly but he’ll come around—just don’t do anything stupid or he will kill you!” You laughed out loud as the survivors looked at you with horrified faces, already thinking of going back to the woods and just living there, “I’m joking! Of course he wouldn’t do that—maybe” You deadpanned as they still look like they regret their life choices coming to Alexandria.
After knowing Daryl and his group for a while, you had decided to face reality and learned how to defend yourself. Usually you would train outside of Alexandria with Daryl but you had taken the liberty of trying to do it on your own.
“Don’t let Daryl know I went out, okay?” You whispered to Eugene.
“Based on my admittedly limited but historically reliable observations of his behavioral tendencies, I believe there’s a considerably higher-than-average probability that he’ll react with a measurable degree of anger directed squarely at yours truly” Eugene stated formally as you sighed. Eugene continues, “I would very much prefer not to find myself on the receiving end of a fatal encounter brought about by his understandably hostile disposition.”
“He’s not gonna kill you, Eugene” You exasperated as the gate opened. You walked out as Eugene looks at you with worry, you smiled at him mischievously as you heard curse appropriately under his breath, “Be safe!”
Sometimes, you think that you had known Daryl. But you were wrong. You had underestimated his skills of being so incredibly stealthy that he would become practically invisible.
You thought you went out alone, but you were dead wrong.
So while you were busy trying to kill walkers with the bow and arrow (because you wanted to match with your boyfriend but the crossbow was too hard to master so you settled with the traditional bow) one walker got too close as you fell down with the thing trying to gnaw at you, before you could frantically stab it with a knife a very familiar arrow shot right through its temple.
You groaned loudly, “I had it, Daryl!”
“Ya’ didn’t have shit” Daryl growled, as he walked up to move the walker away and grab his arrow, “You could’ve gotten ya’ self killed”
“Did Eugene told you I went out” You complained as he helped you get up from the ground.
“Nah, I could smell you from a mile away”
“Of course you did” You sighed knowingly as you glared at him.
“If you didn’t want me finding ya’ then you shouldn’t go out wearing a goddamn perfume on a hunt, woman” He argued, swinging his arms at you. One habit that you seemed to notice when he gets worked up, you found it cute—he hates that you find it cute but he does it anyway.
“Even if I didn’t wear it, you somehow always find me out here” You stated sarcastically, Daryl looked at your pants as he instinctively cleaned you up by patting away the dirt on your clothes, brushing the leaves out of your hair. Daryl was a man of service, it was his love language—other than giving you possums and squirrels every now and then.
“I’ll always find you” Daryl muttered, this time it was serious. His eyes piercing into yours and your heart skipped a bit, “No matter what”
“O-okay”
Daryl meant what he said and he will take it till the day he dies. He had experienced too much loss from separation and it scared him deeply. He would never want to lose you. If Alexandria burned down to the ground and you were gone, he would find you before doing anything else. It was why he always follow you around, no matter where you are.
WAIT WAIT SO IN BEWITCHED DOES THAT MEAN HE RAN AWAY???
SPOILERSS FOR BEWITCHED
He didnt ran away, technically. when the reader asked him to stay he said yes. they have been living the cabin outside the farmhouse. this whole time.
but since she has the ability to make the cabin appear empty and abandoned, rick and the group tried to find him there and they couldnt see him
but he was there, inside and he couldnt see them too. its like this whole other world.
so to the group, they took it as if the reader had kidnapped him or something since rick already had suspicion that he ready was “weird”. rick tried searching for him endlessly but daryl’s just gone without a trace.
Encountering a near-death experience, a mysterious woman had saved Daryl from meeting his end. However, in this day and age—there was more to the woman than what leads on. Daryl felt this invisible pull and he just can’t seem to leave her alone.
witch!reader x daryl dixon
warnings/tags; off-putting!reader, typical twd violence and gore, canon divergence, porn with little plot, ooc!daryl, daryl is extremely down bad—like extremely. lowkey entrapment but not really? everything is consensual. blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, squirting, bodily fluids, everything. shane is warning as well cus fuck him. smoking after sex some unknown herbs but its not weed.
word count; 6284
a/n: this had inspired me from a folklore in my country. in the woods, there is a community of spirits that are basically all types of perfect. you will start seeing them if they are interested in you. however if they are not people cant see it with the naked eye. this spirits are usually harmful but they kidnap u back into their community and forces you to marry them. so i guess i took a bit of inspiration of that to here. except daryl is already down bad, just needed some encouragement.
Daryl could’ve sworn this was the worst trip he had ever gotten in his whole life—and he had done some crazy shit before. Who knew being half-dead, losing blood in the forest would make him see some crazy shit—and by crazy shit; it was his possibly dead brother Merle talking smack to him. He had to snap out of it because if not, he would actually end up dead.
As he climbed uphill, with his hallucination of his brother calling him a ‘pussy’—his vision was starting to blur as he felt like he was about to tumble back down again.
However, he started seeing a silhouette of a woman wearing a long flowy dress reaching out his hand to him. Now he started thinking—this might actually be his last time breathing and this woman was some angel of death trying to bring him to the other side. He doesn’t believe in god, angels or the devil. This might be a sign he is going to hell.
“Are you real?” That was the last thing he said before he saw the complete dark.
One thing he knows for sure, he didn’t feel himself hitting the ground.
.
Daryl was floating in and out of consciousness. There was a fleeting moment where he gained his sense of smell and the only thing he could smell was what he could describe as chopped up grass mixed with mud and weirdly enough the scent of incense. He couldn’t open his eyes but the only thing he could hear was the sound of a fire crackling and a distant rhythmic hum.
The tune lulled him back to sleep.
The next moment he woke up, he could barely open his eyes but he had enough to see just a little bit of where he was. In which, he had no idea where he was. All he knew is that he was in a dark space and the only thing lighting it up was the fire he had heard earlier.
The woman from his hallucination came into his view again but it was too blurry for him to make out his face.
There it was the hum, Daryl had guessed it came from the woman and every time she sang it—Daryl fell back asleep.
Daryl had no idea how long he had been out. After the third time, this was the moment he could finally fully regain his consciousness. The bizarre thing was, he did not feel any pain. The spot where he had impaled himself was gone, as if it had completely healed.
When Daryl opened his eyes, he scanned it through the room as his mind wondered where the hell was he. The place looked awfully familiar, it was like he had been here before.
The window, the door, the rooms—it was the empty cabin he had found when he was out looking for Sophia.
But then again, it was an empty cabin. This place looked like someone had lived here for years. He scurried to get up as he looked around for his crossbow, it was nowhere in sight. He looked down, only to find himself half naked—covered in substance that looked like mud all over his injuries.
“What the hell is ‘happenin” He muttered to himself as he spotted his shirt hung on a rocking chair, he quickly took it and put it on.
The cabin looked odd. There were weird trinkets hung everywhere, weird substances kept in potion-like bottles, the room smelled like herbs. It wasn’t an off-putting smell, it was actually quite comforting.
“You’re awake” Daryl visibly jumped as he quickly snapped towards the direction of the female voice. It starts to come back to him. Daryl knew this was the woman he saw—and apparently she was real after all.
“You treated me?” Daryl asked cautiously as he looked at the woman up and down. Her hair was long and unkempt, the same dress she wore before—a dark green colored dress that was loose around her body—a long black cardigan sat on her shoulders, wearing an array of natural accessories—if that even made sense.
“Yes, you were bleeding out so I went out to help” The woman stated, the tone in her voice suggested nothing more than a simple favor. Nothing in her voice marked any concerns for Daryl. “Now, if you feel better—you can leave”
She gestured towards the front door as Daryl’s eyes wandered in her cabin one more time.
“Thank you” Daryl expressed honestly, however—he stayed in place—seemingly not wanting to leave, “It’s not safe for you alone out here”
“Nothing I can’t take care of, I’m doing fine” She replied, the subtle stoicism lacing her voice. She looked at Daryl in disbelief as she could not understand why he would not leave, “Are we going to have problems?” Her tone was more defensive as her stance hardened.
“No… No…” Daryl muttered quietly, “We have a camp, we have good people there—you can come with me, it will be safe”
“I told you…” She trailed of sternly, “I can take care of myself”
Daryl raised his hands defeatedly as he walked towards the front door, he kept glancing back at her and he didn’t know why. Something about her was visually pleasing to look at—she seemed extremely intriguing.
“Your weapons are outside, I don’t tolerate any of those in my house” Daryl nodded as he opened the door to see his crossbow and knife placed neatly on the side of the porch. He took in the surroundings as he felt something weird crawling in his chest.
“Before I go…” Daryl trailed, “Do you see a little girl out here? we lost her almost a week ago”
There was a weird look on her face but she shook her head.
When Daryl stepped outside he noticed something in the distance.
Cherokee Rose.
He turned around as he fully took in the cabin. It was the same cabin that he had stumbled upon before he got injured.
Except when he checked the cabin before.
It was empty.
.
“I swear, she was living there in that damn house!”
Daryl had spent the last 30 minutes trying to convince Rick to search the cabin. However, after the story about how he got injured—Rick had assumed he was seeing things.
Maggie and Hershel had explained that the cabin had been abandoned for more than a decade. They have been scavenging through that area for months, nobody has been there.
“If I was ‘lyin, then how the hell do you explain this?” Daryl raised his shirt, showing the scar where he had been impaled by his arrow.
The group looked at him like he was crazy.
“Glenn, c’mere” He called out as Glenn ran towards him. “You showered with me before, this wasn’t here before was it?” Glenn’s eyes widened as everybody’s head turned towards him.
“Man, I don’t know what you’re on about—I never showered with you” Glenn flushed as Maggie held back his laughter, “But yes, I’ve never seen that before—that looks new”
“Okay let’s say we go there, and find this woman—whatchu’ wanna do? Tie her up? Torture her till she lets us know where Sophia is?” Shane snarked, earning a glare from Daryl as he bit his tongue to prevent himself from fighting the cop. He didn’t know why Shane was always so against finding Sophia.
“I’m saying we can go there and ask her again, she looks like she knows something”
The group collectively agreed to go back to the cabin despite some agreements. Rick had suggested that they do whatever they can, if it doesn’t work then they can try something else. The hopeless optimism seems to be always pissing Shane off.
The group agreed to send Daryl, Rick and Carol. They thought the woman might be more open to answering questions if there was another woman present.
So they ventured out to the woods, Daryl and Rick being more cautious in order to keep Carol safe.
When they stumbled upon the same cabin, the three of them glanced at each other as they nodded—heading towards the front door as they softly knocked.
“Put your weapons on the floor, she doesn’t like it in her house” Daryl pointed on the ground as Rick hesitated. He did not know who this woman was and she could be dangerous. However, he trusted Daryl to do so. Both him and Carol placed their weapons carefully as they looked around cautiously if there were any walkers.
Surprisingly, there were none. Which was weird because what Daryl remembered was that this area was crawling with them.
There were no answers so Rick contemplated breaking into the house. He decided to think rationally and knock again. However, this time the door creaked open with no force as they managed to get a peak inside the house.
Daryl’s face fell, the house was empty.
“Maybe you got the wrong cabin?” Carol suggested softly, Daryl started pacing around the porch as he started rethinking what the hell was going on. He wasn’t hallucinating. He knew somebody lived here.
He suggested they searched the whole cabin, and when they did it still looked like it was abandoned 10 years ago.
“Alright, Daryl I don’t think she’s here” Rick explained carefully, afraid he might make Daryl mad. Daryl stayed quiet, the feeling of disappointment consumed him. “Maybe, when you were losing so much blood—you started seeing things, I heard those happens sometimes”
Daryl merely hummed. Both of them could see he was visibly upset about the situation. Carol went up to him as she embraced him into a hug.
“Thank you, I appreciate you, I just want you to know that” Daryl stayed quiet as he nodded. The group decided to make their way back to the farmhouse.
However, when they turned around—there she was, carrying firewood in her arms. The group froze in shock.
“You can’t be here” The woman snarls, as she drops her firewood to the ground. “You need to leave”
“We’re sorry for intruding” Carol apologized, “We just want to know if you’ve seen my little girl. She’s missing and I really need to find her” Carol started crying.
“You’re her mother?” She interrogates as Carol nodded eagerly. The harsh look on her face softens as she walks towards the group. Rick and Daryl glanced at each other, seemingly not believing that what Daryl had been going on about is true. But it was. However, one thing on Daryl’s mind that he can’t seem to shake is that—the cabin is empty when yesterday it looked like she had been living there forever. “Come with me—but they stay outside”
“We prefer staying together” Rick inclined as the woman glared at him. “Okay—but if anything happens to her” Rick paused, “I’ll kill you”
She looked unfazed as Carol hesitantly followed her inside the cabin.
Rick and Daryl sat outside, on alert of any sounds they could be hearing coming from inside the cabin.
“Daryl I didn’t want to say this” Rick started, “But she looks weird”
Daryl chuckled dryly, “Tell me about it”
“You see one thing I don’t get, is how can the wound from that arrow be completely healed in one day” Rick ponders. Daryl instinctively touched the scar as he hummed.
“Beats me” Daryl shrugged, “Maybe she’s a doctor”
“I’m pretty sure doctors don’t look like that” Rick and Daryl laughed simultaneously. A moment after Carol exited the cabin with the woman behind him.
When they saw Carol’s face, they noticed how pale she was. She was sweating bullets as she looked out of it. Rick and Daryl got up as they cautiously looked at the woman who seemed fine and normal—a contrast to Carol.
“She has Sophia” Carol choked, this made the two men wield their weapon, ready to shoot her. The woman remained calm as if it didn't faze her that a crossbow and a revolver was pointed at her, “No! No! She’s treating her, don’t shoot”
“Why the hell do you look so scared then” Daryl growled, “She must’ve done something to her!”
“Because Sophia’s been bitten” Carol cried out. “My baby’s been bitten”
“That’s impossible! We searched the house, Carol—there was no one there” Rick argued, his gun still pointing at the woman.
“Please, you need to show them—show them and they can trust you” Carol wailed as the woman crossed her arms, contemplating. “Please!”
The woman groaned loudly as she pointed at the men’s weapons to the ground. Rick and Daryl hesitated but Carol urged them to do so. The woman motioned them come inside as they carefully followed.
It happened again. It all started to feel like a deja vu. The house that was empty, now looks lively. Everything that Daryl remembered, it was there. The trinkets, the potions, the smell of herbs and mud.
“What the fuck is happening” Rick’s eyes wandered through the house that was supposed to be empty. His mind could not comprehend what he was seeing. There was no way. No way she could clear the house so fast and redecorate it in less than an hour. This was impossible.
The woman led them into a room, where they could see Sophia lying on the floor with a mud-like substance on her neck. She was unconscious but they could tell she was breathing, Rick simply looked up in shock—begging for an explanation.
“A week ago I was searching for firewood in the forest. Then I heard her scream. By that time she was already bitten in the neck” The woman bent down to Sophia’s level, carefully removing the mud that was on her neck. There was a bite mark, what’s crazy about it—it almost looked completely healed. “Usually it doesn’t take long for me to heal a wound, but this is different. It’s taking too long. If you remove her from my cabin, she will die”
“That’s impossible, how? They usually turn after a few minutes to an hour, if she’s been bitten for almost a week she should’ve turned by now”
“I can’t tell you that” The woman stated sternly, “What I can say is, nature’s the best medicine. She will wake up and she will be fine but you need to give me time” She placed the mud back to her neck as Sophia gave a low moan. Carol shuddered at the sound of her little girl’s voice.
“Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you” Daryl snapped.
“Because I don’t trust men—all you do is do bad things” She counters as her eyes stay on Daryl. She then carefully wiped Sophia with a wet cloth, ensuring that she stays clean.
“Thank you, thank you so much—I don’t know how you’re doing this but I’m so thankful you found my little girl” Carol cried out when she suddenly embraced the woman in a hug. She smiled as she caressed Carol’s back in comfort.
However, at that moment Rick and Daryl were still looking at each other saying; “Who’s going to address the magical disappearing and reappearing elephant in the room?”
They decided not to push it mainly because they knew she wouldn’t answer anyway and they also can’t prepare to wrap their minds around it.
As they left the cabin, all three of them were silent. They were still trying to process what they had just encountered.
“Can we talk about what just happened?” Rick initiated, “Because I’m not the only one that thinks this is crazy right? She’s crazy!”
“I honestly don’t care. She could be a witch and I still won’t care—Sophia’s safe that’s all that matters” Carol stated absentmindedly, however—the two men turned to her in disbelief, “What? Oh come on, you can’t seriously think that? That’s ridiculous!”
“I think I’m losing my goddamn mind” Daryl cursed to himself.
“I mean we didn’t think zombies existed before this, it honestly makes sense” Rick theorized as Carol and Daryl looked at him like he was insane. Now Rick understood what Daryl felt like when Maggie and Hershel told him the cabin was abandoned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the rational one here?” Daryl argued.
“I don’t know, Daryl—how do you explain the cabin was empty and then not-so-empty after? Not to mention, we out of all people know, there is no cure to the infection”
The group stayed silent, as they headed off to the farm. They honestly did not know how to explain it. It was impossible.
.
Daryl didn’t know what possessed him to go back to the cabin. He felt this certain urge and need to go and see her which was extremely unlike him. He kept thinking about what she said about not trusting men. He kept wondering why she had helped him if she didn’t trust him. The thought kept running in his mind until he became sleepless. That’s how he found himself standing in front of her cabin, waiting for her to magically appear.
And that she did.
“Why are you here?” Her voice came from behind him as he jumped. Her eyes scanned him up and down, noticing there were no weapons in his hands or body. She started circling around him, as if she was taunting him. “Is there something I can do for you?” Her voice dropped into a dangerous tone, the one that didn’t sound like she was going to attack. It sounded completely different.
She got closer and closer to him until she was just inches away from his face. Daryl had an unbreakable gaze as he looked down to notice the small smirk carved on her lips.
“You can come in” She turned away from him completely as she walked inside the house, Daryl stood there frozen for a moment before he snapped back and followed behind her.
“You said you don’t trust men, why did you save me?” Daryl wasted no time getting right to the point, a thought that has been bugging him all night. She gave him a chuckle as she boiled a pot of hot water. Daryl stopped for a moment as he looked at the fire, “You have gas?”
“So many questions” She sighed wistfully, “I guess you could say that”
“You didn’t answer my first one” Daryl insists, his stance on guard as he looked around the house once again. There’s no way she could clear all this in a minute. There’s something off about her.
“I don’t trust men” She explained softly, “Doesn’t mean I won’t help one. I can also tell the good from the bad”
“You don’t know nothing about me”
“You’re decent…” She continues, “Enough”
“How did you do it?” He challenges, “How did you cure Sophia? We were told there was no cure, so it’s impossible”
She ignored Daryl as she hummed the same tune that she hummed when she was treating Daryl. Daryl was getting impatient. She glanced at him briefly as she brewed some sort of tea. Daryl started to look around, the weird potions on her table—the books with unfamiliar writings, the concerning amount of candles lit up.
“Are you like a witch or something?” Daryl wasn’t sure if he meant that as a joke or if it was completely something else. Everything about her doesn’t seem to make sense. The cabin, how she healed him, hell—this place had no walkers coming around whatsoever, he hadn't seen any in a 5 mile radius around the area.
She suddenly laughs, “That’s stupid, witches don’t exist”
Daryl almost felt relieved that he wasn’t going crazy.
She started smiling at him in the most off-putting way possible. She brought the cup of tea as he looked at it with caution. He took it in his hands as he took a seat.
“What do you want, Daryl? I don’t see any point of you being here—unless you want something” She coaxes, her fingertips gliding on the cup as the noise makes a slight hum. Daryl just stared at her quietly as he shrugged, “Then, why are here?”
“Just curious” Daryl muttered, “You got my mind ‘runnin”
He had no idea why he just said that, it was something he would never admit out loud. He could lie his way through and it wouldn’t be an issue but he felt like being honest. Which was rare.
“Is it because you think I’m attractive?” She challenged, a teasing smirk on her lips. She started getting up as she moved closer towards him, “Is there something that’s pulling you in”
“Yes” His own answer shocked him, “I think you’re weird—but in a beautiful way, you get what I mean?” What the fuck was happening to him? The woman bent down, her hands on each side of the chair as her gaze locked upon his eyes.
“Is that so?” She was so close, Daryl could feel her breath on his face, Daryl could also smell the weird scent that she always had. It was not bad, it was comforting. He said nothing as he nodded hesitantly. As if it was even possible, she got closer—tilting her head to the side as if she was about to kiss him. Daryl instinctively leaned in but before their lips could meet—she snapped back up as she walked away.
“What the hell?” He seemed to have gotten out of his daze. He looked down at his tea, “Did you fucking drug me?!”
“It’a just pine needle tea, I think it’s just you, sweetheart” She stated simply as she took the cup away from his hands and drank the remaining, “I’m fine”
She’s making him crazy. Daryl was usually hard-headed and rational—most of the time. How she’s making him feel makes him frustrated.
“I think it’s best if you leave now” She opened the front door for him, “I’ll send over Sophia tomorrow, you look forward to that”
As he exited her cabin as he glanced back one last time to see her smiling and waving him goodbye.
“Crazy bitch…”
However, when Daryl got back to his tent—it was safe to say he had the most peaceful sleep of his life.
.
All of the group was sitting around the fire, enjoying the catch Daryl got for today. They were laughing among themselves and for the first time they did not worry about anything. They were just simply families, enjoying their lunch—it was like before.
“Who is that?” Glenn questioned, seeing a woman in a pale yellow dress walking out the field. Everybody was suddenly on guard as they held up their guns from afar. A child came up behind her as she held her hand, swinging back and forth as they tried to make up who it was. They lowered their guns since walkers can’t exactly do that.
Carol then realizes.
“Oh my god, it’s Sophia” She bolted towards them, without caring about anything else. Sophia noticed her mother running after her as she let go of the woman’s hand—running after her mother. The group trailed closely behind to catch up as they stopped in the middle of the field. Carol cried into her daughter’s arms, embracing her tight so she wouldn’t lose her again.
The group was speechless to see Sophia again, but they were more confused about the woman that brought her. Daryl squinted because of the sun that was shining down on them as he looked at the familiar face. He scanned her up and down, and couldn't take his eyes off her.
After Carol was done and let Carl reunite with Sophia, she immediately embraced the woman—muttering thank you’s like a prayer. The woman whispered something in Carol’s ear as she nodded understandingly.
“Who are you?” Andrea was the first one to voice out. She smiled at everyone as she told them her name.
Her name fits her, Daryl thought as he realized after everything he hadn't asked about it.
There were so many questions from so many people that she barely even got to say a word. Carol had stopped the group from being so overbearing as she invited her for a thank you dinner.
“I can’t, I’m sorry. Thank you for your offer” She declined politely as Carol frowned.
Shane, who had been staring at her like a piece of meat, gave her a smug smirk, “Oh come on sweetheart, that’s the least we could do—stay and have dinner with us. I’ll catch you a tasty bunny as well”
Daryl glared at him, pushing down the instinct to shove his own head up his ass.
Her smile that was genuine and friendly had dropped once she met her with Shane. Nobody had noticed but the look on her face was nowhere near friendly and it made Shane wipe the smirk off his face—slightly shocked.
“You know what? What the hell?—I’ll stay” She smiled again, but this time her eyes were only on Daryl. He simply nodded as he headed back towards camp. The group swarmed her with questions like she was a celebrity, she answered them humbly—saying she was at the right place and the right time.
“How was it staying with her, was she nice?” Carol asked Sophia out of curiosity. Her daughter simply nodded eagerly. Carol’s eyes fell down to the scarf around her neck as her words circled back in her mind.
“Keep the scarf until the scar fades, if your group finds out—they might think she’s still infected”
“You keep this on, okay? Never take it off” Carol fiddled with the material as her daughter hummed in agreement. She didn’t know whether or not she should talk about what happened because she was too afraid Sophia might be too scared from the memory.
On the other hand, Shane can’t stop staring at her. Daryl honestly had enough of it.
“You got something to say?” Daryl snarled, pushing Shane’s cup of water as it fell to the ground and staining his shirt.
“What the fuck man?” Everyone’s attention turned to them as they gasped in shocked
“You’ve been staring at her like a fuckin’ asshole, I asked ya’ if you got something to say” Daryl shouted, his face full of fury. Shane chuckled darkly as he couldn’t believe the hick was picking a fight with him.
Meanwhile, the woman they were arguing about was enjoying seeing men at their very primal instinct. It was amusing. She stood there with her arms crossed, as she smiled.
Daryl and Shane were about to throw hands at each other before she placed her hands on Daryl’s bicep.
“Hey, it’s okay” She whispered softly, her hand sliding up and down his arms as his breath hitched, “You don’t need to do that”
Shane watched the encounter in disbelief, “Slut—“ He muttered underneath his breath. Daryl caught what he was saying and almost jumped him but she stopped him again. Leaning into his ear as she whispered something.
Daryl seemed to have calmed down. Shane walked away as he pushed the chair out of his way angrily.
She giggled, her hands both on his shoulder as he glanced at her. “Didn’t need to treat you like that”
“Oh, I know” She stated, “But he is just an insecure man, leave him be”
“What the fuck is going on” Glenn, who had witnessed everything stood there frozen like everybody else.
It was safe to say, everyone was weirded out by your presence. There was this sense of discomfort that they couldn’t exactly put a finger on. She was alluring, but extremely creepy and off-putting at the same time. They tried to comfort themselves, maybe it was just because she had been alone for a long time. That’s why she acts the way she does.
The lunch went on quite awkwardly. The group that was so curious and talkative were no longer asking questions. She just sat there with a wide smile on her face, humming to herself.
The night had fallen, as she said their goodbyes to everyone. In some ways they were relieved she was leaving.
Daryl caught up behind her, as he stopped her from walking away “Hey, let me walk you back—it’s not safe at night, and you don’t got no weapons on you”
She smiled at him for a moment, before agreeing. Knowing damn well, she can protect herself but Daryl insisted anyway.
“Would you like to come in?” She offered again and without a doubt, Daryl just headed inside.
He couldn’t describe what he felt when he was around her. It was like she was irresistible—and Daryl was a stubborn man so he didn’t know why he was acting this way. His mind kept circling back to what he said to her the last time he was here. He kept thinking maybe she had put a curse on him, like a love spell or something—
That’s stupid.
“Would you like some tea?” Daryl declined, as he sat on the same chair as he did before.
There was a moment of silence. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, it was just this weird tension—he had been staring at her and she did the same thing back. There were no words exchanged, it was just their eyes.
“You have a lot of anger in you, Daryl” She muttered softly, “I can fix that” She whispered.
“What, you’re gonna brew me another tea?” She giggled at his response as she shook her head. She slowly walked towards him, striding like a cat. His eyes followed her every movement and when she was close enough, she took a seat on his lap. His breath hitched as she leaned down, her long fingernails tracing his neck and jawline. “What are you doing to me?”
“Taking the pain away” She whispered against his lips as she closed the distance between them. Daryl gave in as his lips glided against hers. He shuddered, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her closer until she was straddling his lap. She would pull away every now and then, her tongue darting out to softly lick his lips that would earn a growl from him. Daryl pulled away as he buried his face into her neck, pressing soft kisses along her collarbone.
“You’re driving me crazy” He breathed out as she got up from his lap. She kneeled on the floor as she carefully took off the buckle off his belt. “F-fuck”
“Or maybe you’re just crazy for me” Her hands glided along his thighs as she took off his pants and his boxers—his hard and girthy length shot up to his stomach, his pre-cum staining the hair underneath his belly button. She suddenly hummed to herself, her mouth salivating as she wasted no time pressing her tongue on the base of his shaft.
“F-fuck” Daryl whined, his hips bucking up as he squinted his eyes in pleasure. Everything felt so sensitive, it had been a really long time since he felt this way. “More, f-fuck”
“Mhmm” She hummed as she fully took in his length. Daryl groaned out loud, his hand finding the base of her hair as he gripped it, moving her head up and down his cock carefully. She was sucking his dick like she was hungry, like hasn’t eaten anything in years. Daryl decided to push it further as both of his hands found the back of her head, pushing his cock in and out of her mouth.
“Fuck you’re so g-good for me” His hips twitched underneath her, obscene sounds coming out of her mouth, her saliva mixed with his pre-cum dripped onto the chair. It was filthy, she was filthy. His tip hits the back of her throat just nice, each time he pushes it further—the base of his shaft can be seen protruding out of her skin. “Y-yes, fuck!”
It was too good. He didn’t want it to end so he pulled her head back as she wiped the drool at the corner of her lips. She smiled at him, as she stood up, slipping her dress off her shoulders.
“You’re beautiful…” Daryl breathed out as he fully took her in, everything about her was perfect. “C’mere”
Daryl pulled her in by her waist, as he pressed his face against her skin. Taking in the scent that he enjoyed so much. He found her breast, her nipples pebbled under the cold air as he took it in his mouth eagerly suckling on them. Her moans were music to his ears, his teeth sinking into her breath softly as she hissed in pleasure.
“I want you” She moaned, “Please, please take me” She begged and it was the best thing he had heard all day.
“Desperate lil thing” He muttered as he guided her back on top of his lap. Before he put his tip in, his curiosity got the best of him as his fingers travelled down to her cunt. He could feel her arousal dripping down her thighs, as he scoped it up and placed it inside his mouth. He moaned, “Let me have a taste of you”
“No! Please, I can’t take it anymore” She urged as Daryl decided not to argue and sunk her pussy onto his cock. “Oh my god, f-feel so full”
“Y-yeah? Fuck!” He grunted, her tight warm walls practically sucking him in. “You feel so fuckin’ good, nobody felt this fucking good before”
She started bouncing on his dick, each time it entered she screamed out loud. Daryl found his mouth on her breast again, trying to suppress his groans and grunts. He sat back looking at her with hooded eyes, watching the most beautiful woman he had ever seen jumping and fucking his cock like some desperate whore.
Suddenly, Daryl got up as he carefully carried her and placed her down on the floor. He leaned down to kiss her again, “I’m gonna fuck you hard…” He grunted, “…until you cry”
He entered her again, slamming his cock deep into her pussy as she wailed. She could feel him fill her up, she could feel him in her tummy. The way he hits the spot is just nice to make her squeal every time.
His hand went down as he found her clit, violently rubbing the swollen nub as she twitched underneath him. Daryl held her hand to stop her from moving too much as he growled inside her ears.
“D-daryl!” She screamed, her back arching in pleasure, “I’m gonna cum!”
“That’s it, girl… say my name—say it fucking louder!” She screamed his name again and again as she neared her orgasm. Daryl’s fingers never stopped as the tears started flowing down her face. She felt like she was in heaven even when there was no place for her there.
“Daryl! Stop it’s too much” She cried out of overstimulation as she tried freeing her hands to remove him from her throbbing clit, “Oh my god I can’t!”
She squealed when it fully hit her, Daryl could feel liquid squirting out of her cunt soaking everything around them. His thighs were dripping with her juices. It sent him over the edge as he was about to spill his come all over her.
When he was about to pull out, she violently shake her head.
“No! no! please cum inside me I want it, I want it so bad—Daryl please!” She begged desperately for his seed to fill her womb. Daryl was too dazed to think about the consequences as he gave her one last thrust as his cum spurted inside her, coating her walls nice and warm.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He screamed out one last time.
He fell on top of her as she sniffled, her legs still violently shaking from her previous orgasm.
When he pulled out, his cum dripped out of her cunt—the lewd image made him curse to himself.
She got up weekly, as she took a joint and a lighter as she lit it up.
“S’that weed?” Daryl panted, she shook her head as she handed it over to him.
“It’s not but it helps calm you down, try it” He took a big puff as he looked at it confused. It tasted like flowers, it tasted nice.
Both of them laid on the floor, she was cuddled up in Daryl’s arms—tracing the tattoos on his chest.
“Daryl?” She called out softly, “Would you leave me?”
“Don’t want to” He muttered simply, playing with her hair.
“Then would you stay?” She asked hopefully, looking up at him, “I can give you everything you had ever wanted, just say the words”
“Why don’t you come with me instead?” Daryl suggested.
She grew silent, “It’s either you stay with me or you’ll never see me again”
“I don’t want that”
“Will you stay then?”
Daryl thought about it for a moment. Suddenly, visions started appearing in his mind. He was living happily with her, he had a child running around in front of the cabin—his life was perfect. It felt perfect and it felt right.
“Okay”
Daryl didn’t know what he agreed to but he was in too deep. She hummed the same tune happily, as he caressed her arms.
Daryl never found out her intentions. Specifically her intentions of taking in Sophia and never returning her. However, it wasn’t bad—she was lonely. She wanted to have a child but she never got the opportunity to get one. When she had to return Sophia to her mother, she was disappointed. However, she wasn’t evil.
She also never forced Daryl to stay.
Now that he is here, she can live out her perfect life.
“I can give you everything you had ever wanted, just say the words”
.
Back at the camp, Daryl had been missing for weeks. When they went to search the cabin, they found it looking abandoned.
You’re his biggest fan and Daryl doesn’t know what to do with you.
pairings: stalker!reader x daryl dixon
a/n: you know, it got me thinking. its kinda hot and stuff when he does it. BUT FUCK IT LETS MAKE THE READER CREEPY THIS TIME
stalker!reader who has an issue with hyper-fixation. it was something you had since you were little. when you like something or someone, you would hyper-fixate on it. of course it wasn’t harmful, you were the type to admire from afar—obsess over it for a while and if you get bored and the person doesn’t reciprocate—you move on. it hurts to move on because you cannot handle change but you will eventually.
stalker!reader who was empty when the apocalypse happened. nothing distracted her from the world. nothing for her to obsess over. the only thing was on her mind was survival.
stalker!reader who got saved by the pretty man with a crossbow as he took you back to his camp, Alexandria.
stalker!reader who starts watching him at first, every time he goes out, every time he comes back in. you were no one in his life, you were just the girl he saved.
stalker!reader who watched daryl everywhere he goes, you don’t follow him but every time he comes to your view—your eyes would trail behind him.
stalker!reader who daryl starts noticing you watching him. he was observant, as it becomes a pattern he would always recognize it. he didn’t know what to make of it but knowing how the world is now. he assumes you were a threat when you were the exact opposite.
stalker!reader who didn’t know daryl was watching you back, every time you weren’t noticing. carol had picked up on the behavior since she was heavily suspicious of Alexandria so she noticed a few things. She finds it amusing because daryl has no clue what he was dealing with. she would tell him “i think she has a crush on you” daryl would say it was stupid.
stalker!reader who progressed on following him, you had your own journal or diary that you would take note of what he was doing, what he likes and what enjoys spending his time doing.
stalker!reader who had it backfired because one day when you were following him around, you lost sight of him—only to find him cornering you on the very tree you were hiding behind.
stalker!reader who got confronted by daryl, only to apologize to him and say you will never do it again and run away. you were scared so you dropped your diary—only for him to pick it up and keep it to find out what you’ve been hiding.
stalker!reader who daryl was completely astonished at what he was reading from your journal. he had found logs of what he was doing like ‘daryl caught a rabbit today to help feed people of alexandria!’ and beside the note was a short chubby cartoonish drawing of him holding a bunny with the word ‘victory!’ scribbled beside it. when he saw that he didnt know how to react as he showed carol the notes and doodles of him. “i told you so” carol would say to him.
stalker!reader who stopped following daryl, and was gone from his view completely. however, he starts finding notes that he knew was from you, apologizing for your behavior and kept giving him drawings you made of him. slowly, he started to pin the drawings on the wall as he felt a slight endearment for you.
stalker!reader who one day stopped everything completely and he didn’t receive drawings from you for a few days. he starts looking for you only to find out that you have been sick. so he would come by and leave medicine and soup with a simple note that wrote his name.
stalker!reader who got better and started leaving drawings again, only for daryl to be seen waiting at the front door for you. and your first instinct was to run but daryl had stopped you and invited you to come into his house.
stalker!reader who snooped around feeling like you were in heaven because everything smelled like him. when daryl wasn’t paying attention you would bring the blanket throw onto your nose as you whiffed his scent and in delight. then you noticed that he kept all your drawings pinned on a board and it made you so happy you could scream.
stalker!reader who daryl had encouraged for you to talk to him more instead of hanging around like a ‘lil creep’ as what he called you. but he quickly apologized because he was new to someone liking him the way you do.
stalker!reader who can’t even be considered a stalker anymore because now you were around daryl every day, every time and as long as you can. you would talk to him about random stuff in your life and each information you gave him—he was slowly starting to enjoy your company more and more.
stalker!reader who daryl now can’t seem to shake off. who he worries about when you were late to see him or when you don’t show up at all because now he was heavily attached to you. the thought of you not being around him makes him feel empty.
Summary: You, Rick, Daryl, and Glenn get ambushed after a tough run. You all fight off the group, and Daryl has some feelings about seeing you fight a man much larger than you.
Tags: oneshot, mildly inappropriate (no smut, just references being hard), canon violence, fluff if you squint, I think that's everything
Notes: inspired by this lovely post by @angelwings-crossbowstrings but I took a bit of creative liberty. I feel like a suck at writing so sorry guys. I wanted to keep this a shorter oneshot so sorry if its choppy plz let me know if you see mistakes its 1:30 am. Long live Daryl Dixon.
Word Count: 571
You, Daryl, and Rick were all standing in the grass on the side of the road while Glenn tweaked under the hood of the car, hoping to get it started again. It wasn’t that far of a walk to get back to the prison, no distance you all hadn’t traveled before. But after spending hours looting houses, none of you wanted to deal with that. Everyone was sweaty, bloody, and exhausted.
That’s probably why your group was able to be ambushed by a ragged gang of men intending to rob you blind.
All men of various heights and builds. All with guns.
Six men, four of you.
Of course it didn’t work, but they still tried.
They had circled around the four of you and demanded answers about where your camp was, how many of you were there, what kind of supplies did you have, all the usual bullshit to gauge how much of a threat there was.
After Rick did some clever “negotiating” (manipulating) to get them to let their guard down, the four of you moved in sync like trained killers.
It was pretty quick.
If it weren’t for your stupid gun, it would’ve taken less than 30 seconds.
Rick took out the two men on him, shooting one and stabbing the other. Daryl fired off two arrows from his crossbow, dropping another two. Glenn took a few hits but was able to stab the other man.
With the last man being the one you’re fighting, the three of them turn to look at you.
Your gun clicks empty, so you swing it as hard as you can and crack him across the face. There’s a nasty crunch as blood starts pouring out of his nose.
The guy lands a punch to your jaw, causing your head to whip to the side.
Glenn moves to go help you, but Daryl holds out his arm to stop him.
“Jus’ wait.”
“But she’s-”
“She’s got it.”
Your hands bunch into the front of his shirt, dragging him forward as you knee him in the groin. He stumbles backwards and you follow with your arm drawn back to hit, oblivious to the watch party behind you.
“She’s gonna-”
“Let ‘er.”
Daryl watches you like you’re the one painting the clouds in the sky.
You clock the guy in the side of the face and he crumples to the ground. You shake out your hand before stepping over him to straddle his chest and spit in his face.
“Asshole.”
You shake your hand to sling the blood off before brushing it on your pants. As you pick up the gun you dropped and brush the dirt off, you look up to everyone staring at you.
“What?”
Glenn is just standing there staring at you with his mouth hanging open.
Rick stands with his hands on his hips, having watched the scene unfold as if it was the best entertainment he’d seen in a while.
He turns to look at Daryl and clears his throat, fighting not to smile.
“Daryl, you’ve got a little problem there.”
Glenn looks over and lets out a sort of strangled cough as he fails to swallow his laugh.
You flick your gaze over to Daryl and bite back a smirk.
He’s standing there looking at you with a lopsided grin, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his pants.
This is set sometime after RE2. And since the remakes never really gave remake scenes of this part of the lore, I made my own spin of the "deal" part and made it... harsher. I imagined Leon tried to visit Sherry as often as he could but couldn't visit more often in later years and kinda lost contact (just my headcanon). But I think he reconnected with Sherry after the events of RE6 and then we get their dynamic in RE9 where he can be a dad to her again.
He's sad in the last panel because he thinks he'll never be free.
Special thanks to @loveiscosmicsin for making sure my English is alright.
i made a post about this like a month ago asking if people would be interested in seeing headcanons of daryl with a reader who's a former sex worker, and i've finally gotten around to coming up with some lmao.
tagging the people who said they would be interested in seeing this or asked to be tagged @trashandthangs @raewritesfiction @al-whatever 🖤
we are very sex-positive and pro-sex work in this house. if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say shit. additionally, these are MY OPINION. if you disagree, that’s fine, but play nice. also, tagging this with fem!, male!, and gn!reader because sex work isn't gender specific, and i tried to keep my language as inclusive as possible. to all the sex workers/former sex-workers out there, i hope i did y'all justice. if i did not, please do not be afraid to let me know & i will make corrections where it's necessary.
warnings: mdni, discussions of sex work (duh), mentions of slut shaming, derogatory words like whore/slut, mention of questions that could be deemed as insensitive, creepy men being creepy and saying creepy shit, swearing
➼ So first off, let’s be real. His only experience with sex workers before the outbreak was when Merle would take him to strip clubs or bring escorts around, so his only knowledge about the industry comes from him—not the best source of information.
➼ He’d have some questionable-at-best pre-conceived notions instilled in him by his brother. His view of the industry is rather narrow, and he’s not privy to all the different types of sex work there are.
➼ You talk to some of the other people in your group about your work in the old world, and eventually, word circulates. Daryl would hear passing comments from some of the men, calling you degrading names and putting you down. There’d be hushed whispers from them about how you must be “easy” or how experienced you must be.
➼ At some point, his curiosity would pique, and he’d go to the source—you—to see what all the chatter was about.
➼ You’d tell him about your work in the old world, and the more you told him, the more questions he would have.
➼ His questions would vary depending on the type of work you did. He’d be worried about his questions being too invasive or personal, but you’d assure him it was alright, only because it’s him asking.
➼ Honestly, he might be confused about how you ended up in the industry in the first place, depending on your reasoning.
➼ He’d ask questions that come off as insensitive without intending to be—why you didn’t just get a “normal” job, find another way to make ends meet, take out student loans—all the questions dependent upon your reason for entering the industry.
➼ You’d explain to him why such questions were insensitive, and he would feel bad & do what he could to make it up to you afterwards.
➼ If you felt empowered by your work, that would take some time for him to understand. It’s not you, it’s the pre-conceived notions he has because of Merle. The way Merle always talked about sex workers was degrading, so he finds it hard to grasp how someone could be empowered in such a position.
➼ Daryl wants to know more, though. Wants to challenge those notions and work against what his brother so deeply ingrained in him. Because you’re not some “easy, cheap slut.” You’re you—bright, friendly, sunshine-y you—and you just happen to have done sex work before the outbreak.
➼ After his lengthy discussion with you (let’s be honest, maybe a couple of discussions), he’d become your most fearless advocate.
➼ Any time he would hear someone calling you names or making snide comments about you, he’d be up in their face, assuring them that there would be consequences if he ever heard them use those words about you again.
➼ Your safety is his top priority. He’d keep you away from anyone making comments about how they’d like “a chance with you” or to “see you put those skills to good use.” Once again, he’d get in the faces of those people and promise to give them two black eyes if they ever uttered shit like that again.
➼ As time went on, he’d occasionally have more questions about your past work, how it impacted your life, everything like that.
➼ Although you’d reassured him many times that it was okay to ask, he would still worry he was being invasive, but he’s not doing it on purpose. He just wants, and is trying, to understand.
The sun filters through the sheer curtain of the window, casting light into the quiet kitchen, birds chatting outside filling in the silence every now and then. For decades, quiet was a luxury Leon rarely got to enjoy. But here, miles away from the constant demand of missions, quiet is the normal, and Leon couldn't be happier.
You lean against the countertop with your hands wrapped around a warm mug, watching your husband with adoration. Leon is standing by the counter in a faded grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair sporting the familiar side part, slightly disheveled from sleep.
He's meticulously making himself a cup of coffee, making sure every part in making it is close to perfect.
"You're taking that coffee very seriously," you say softly, taking a sip from your own mug.
Leon doesn't look up immediately but the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile. "Bad coffee was a constant for years, im making up for lost time."
He finishes the final touch and takes the mug towards his lips, he smirks a little in content at his work.
He sets the cup down and finally turns to face you. The lines around his eyes are a bit deeper, the harsh dark marks that used to circle his eyes are gone now with the relief of a life finally out of chaos and constant stress. He leans on the counter, just across from you and takes your hand to put a small kiss on your wrist.
"Sleep okay?" he murmurs, his voice still raspy from sleep.
"Better than you, considering you were up at six in the morning," you reply, resting your head in your palms.
"Old habits," he admits, letting out a soft sigh. "But I have to admit, waking up to early just to watch the sun rise beats an early call for a mission any day."
You smile, reaching up caress his cheek. He smiles a little.
"Wanna go fishing today? Y'know ive got a new boat im looking forward to taking out today."
"Fine," you sigh, "Since you've been asking for so long."
Its hard to see but his blue eyes shimmer a little at your words.
Daryl, slumping against the counter, hair falling in his face, eyes practically glued shut: Hey.
Y/N, not looking up from what she’s doing: Yeah?
Daryl: Hey.
Y/N: Daryl, I'm right here. What is it?
Daryl, grabbing the sleeve of her shirt with a heavy sigh to yank her two inches closer: Stop movin'. Stand still.
Y/N: I was just folding laundry—
Daryl, thumping his forehead heavily against her shoulder, letting out a long, grumbling exhaled groan: Said stop. S’too loud out there. Brain's fried. Just—stay right there for five minutes or m’shootin’ the next person who asks me ‘bout the guard rotation.
Y/N: I feel like this just turned into a cuddly hostage situation.
Daryl, voice muffled against her collarbone: Shuddup. Pillows don’t talk.
𑣲𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ─── Peace never lasts forever. While Leon is away, old fears return wearing holy robes and carrying sharpened blades. Torn from the life you've built together, you're dragged back to the village that once abandoned you, where love is called sin and mercy is nowhere to be found
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ᣟ𐚁˳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : WEREWOLF ! LEON KENNEDY x fem!reader, afab! reader, gothic fairytale AU, gothic horror elements, age gap ( leon is literally hundreds of years old), angst, violence, blood, death, religious symbolism.
݁ᲝAIᲘ ᲝEᲘU | PART ONE | PART TWO | ˖Ი𐑼⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐈 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 🎮 . ᐟ.ᐟ hello everybunny! i'm sosososo glad you all enjoyed the first two parts of this little series. i know most of you expected a different ending BUT i have something else in mind so pleasee be patient and dont hate me !! that being said enjoy and remember reqs are open ! ♡
Every fairy tale teaches us that happiness comes after the dragon has been slain. They never speak of what happens when the dragon survives, nor do they mention the men who return with torches after the story has ended, eager to finish the work the monster had begun.
Peace is a fragile thing, it asks for very little of the world, only that the world leave it alone.
History has never been particularly kind to such requests. There are those who believe evil dies once it has been driven out, but fear is a curious creature, it rarely leaves with the monster.
More often, it stays behind. It gathers around dinner tables, beneath church roofs, sharpens axes in barns, until one morning it convinces otherwise decent men that cruelty is righteousness.
There is a peculiar sort of happiness that asks for no witness. It is not the kind sung about in great halls, the kind immortalized in painted glass, it has no desire to be remembered by history. It lives instead within ordinary things, that is why it is so easily overlooked.
You stood upon the little stool Leon had carved for you only a fortnight before, your fingertips carefully tying bundles of drying plants to one of the rafters overhead. "It is crooked." you declared, leaning back to inspect your work.
"It is."
You looked over your shoulder. "And you are not going to tell me?"
Leon rested another split log beside the chopping block before driving the axe cleanly through the next. The sound echoed between the trees. "You seemed pleased with it."
"I was."
"Then why should I interfere?"
A reluctant smile found your lips. "You encourage my bad habits."
"I encourage your happiness."
You shook your head, pretending to sigh as you climbed carefully back down from the stool. "You always know how to answer."
"I have had many years to practice."
"Not with me."
"No." A softer smile touched him then. "Not with you."
You crossed the clearing with slow steps, brushing stray leaves from your skirts. The hem caught against the grass, still damp from the morning dew. "You make it difficult to scold you."
"I know."
"And— You enjoy that."
"I do."
You reached him at last, brushing a speck of sawdust from his bare chest. "There."
He glanced down. "I am much improved."
"I should hope so."
His hand found the small of your back without thought, drawing you just a little closer. It had become second nature now.
The breeze wandered lazily through the clearing as Leon leaned down to kiss your lips softly. Somewhere beyond the trees, a squirrel scolded no one in particular.
You laughed quietly. "I think he disapproves of us."
"He disapproves of everyone."
"Even you?"
"Especially me."
"You have offended a squirrel?"
"I suspect.. I looked at him the wrong way this morning."
Your laughter answered. Leon watched you with that same fondness he had never quite learned to conceal. What a silly wolf.
"I shall not be long."
You smiled as Leon gathered your face between his hands, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly over your cheeks the way they always did before he ventured deeper into the forest.
"You always say that..."
"Because it has always been true." His forehead rested briefly against yours. "I shall return before the sun begins to sink."
"I know... Still, I will miss you."
He kissed you once, as no morning ought to begin without it. When he finally drew away, he hesitated. "What is it?" you asked.
"Nothing." There was the faintest crease between his brows, gone almost as soon as it appeared. You reached up, smoothing it away with your thumb.
"You worry too much."
"I have spent many centuries learning that worry often keeps one alive."
"But you found me."
Something softened in his expression.
"I did."
He kissed your forehead once more before stepping back.
"I shall return soon, my sweet girl."
For another moment he simply looked at you then he disappeared between the trees until the pale gold of his hair had vanished beneath the endless green.
The day slipped into afternoon. You had grown to love that hour most for it belonged to no one.
The little cabin felt no emptier in his absence.
It still had him everywhere, his cloak hung beside the door, his sharp axe rested against the chopping block, one of his shirts laid folded neatly upon the table where you had mended the sleeve only yesterday. You smiled to yourself because he would tear it again, you know.
Outside, the breeze stirred gently through the pines. You gathered your basket, humming a little melody as you wandered no farther than you ever had before. Wild thyme grew just beyond the clearing, and mushrooms beside the brook where the ground stayed damp even through the warmest days. You crouched amongst the flowers, cutting only what you needed, telling quiet apologies to the stems you left behind.
"You will grow back.." you promised them.
The basket slowly filled. You brushed the dirt from your palms as you stood.
The world was still, not unnaturally so. Simply.. still. You tilted your face toward the canopy. "I suppose you've all found somewhere prettier to sing." The birds had done that before so you thought nothing of it.
Turning back toward home, you had taken three steps before something caught hard around your ankle. Your balance vanished and the basket flew from your hand. Everything scattered across the ground. For one bewildered second you thought you had stumbled over a root. Then someone seized the back of your dress and he fabric bit painfully into your throat as you were wrenched backward. The rough rocks struck your knees first then your hands as stone tore through your palms.
You gasped, twisting instinctively, but another force slammed into your shoulder, sending you flat against the forest floor before you had even understood what was happening.
Your mouth opened soundlessly. A boot pressed between your shoulders, pinning you where you lay. "Hold her!"
The voice sounded human. Another pair of hands caught your wrists roughly
"No—" The word dissolved as your cheek scraped against the earth, dirt filled your mouth, someone pulled your arms behind your back ans pain shot through your body.
You kicked wildly, striking nothing but air before your heel connected with someone's shin. A curse rang through the trees.
The weight on your back doubled. "Keep her still!"
Your heart beat so violently you thought it might burst.
You could not see them, only boots and mud and the hem of dark robes. A wooden cross swinging wildly from a man's neck.
You tried again to scream. "Leon!" The name tore itself from your throat.
No answer came only another rough hand catching a fistful of your hair pulling your head backward until tears sprang instantly to your eyes.
"There she is." someone breathed. "The witch.."
"No—" you choked. "Please.!"
"Poor child." The voice was almost gentle but it made your blood run cold. "You needn't fear anymore." A length of coarse rope bit into your wrists. "You've been under the beast's spell long enough."
You stared at him. Spell? Your thoughts would not gather, nothing made sense. You looked desperately toward the clearing.
Someone stooped to retrieve the overturned basket. He looked at its contents with disgust before emptying it onto the ground, then the basket was crushed beneath his boot.
"Take her."
The forest did not protest. It had watched kingdoms rise and crumble. Men had come with axes, with fire, with prayers upon their lips and blood upon their hands and it had outlived every one of them.
Yet for the first time in many years, something precious had been torn from its heart. The little basket lay where it had fallen, one ribbon loosened from your hair in the struggle had caught upon a low branch, the cabin door stood open as the pie cooling on the table remained untouched. Nothing inside the little home knew its mistress would not be returning.
Leon came back not long before dusk, a young stag slung effortlessly across his shoulders. He smiled to himself as he crossed the clearing, already imagining the little frown that would appear between your brows when you saw the state of his boots.
"You will scold me again.." he said beneath his breath. "And then pretend you were never upset at all."
His eyes drifted past the broken basket almost absently at first, still searching for the pale blue of your skirts between the trees. Perhaps you had wandered farther than usual. Or maybe you had heard him returning and decided, for reasons known only to yourself, to tease him with another little game of hide and seek.
"You have become terribly bold!" he called with a smile that had already begun to fade. "Come now, my sweet. I know you are somewhere close.."
Only when he stooped to right the basket did he notice how badly it had been crushed. One side had splintered completely, the wicker stained dark. His fingers lingered there before his gaze followed the disturbed ground a little farther on.
There was blood, enough to soak into the moss and gather in the grooves between the roots, where the forest floor had drunk greedily from it. Branches had been snapped at shoulder height and the ferns were flattened. Something had struggled here. Someone.
His hand closed around the little ribbon caught amongst the broken wicker. "No.."
His eyes darted wildly across the clearing as though you might step from behind one of the trees at any moment, laughing at the poor jest you had carried too far. "My sweet?"
He took another few hurried steps, following the churned earth until the trail simply ended beneath a dozen overlapping footprints.
"No!" This time it sounded strained. "Enough! You have frightened me enough!"
Leon dropped to one knee, pressing his palm into the blood soaked dirt. His nostrils flared sharply. He could smell your fear, he could smell the salt of your tears, he could smell where they had laid their hands upon you.
The growl that escaped him was unlike anything human. It rolled deep through his chest, low enough to make the branches overhead tremble as birds burst from the canopy all at once.
"No!" His fingers tightened around the ribbon until the silk tore between his claws. "I left you.. I left you alone." Another breath drew through his nose, shuddering as your scent tangled with blood, smoke, and the stink of strange men. "They touched you.."
His shoulders lurched violently. Bone shifted beneath skin with a sickening crack. He bent forward, one hand digging deeply into the earth that roots splintered beneath his claws. "Laid their filthy hands upon you!"
His spine arched unnaturally, muscles twisting beneath his flesh as though something immense struggled to free itself from the prison of a human shape. "I should have buried that cursed village beneath these mountains when I first found you!"
His jaw snapped sharply to one side, then the other. A guttural groan tore from deep within "I— showed them mercy."
His words dissolved into a growl as his ribs widened with another grotesque series of cracks, his hands sinking deeper into the moss while claws lengthened against the stone. "And they answered it with this? The crows shall grow fat before my grief is spent!"
His breathing became ragged, faster, hungrier.
"They will beg their god to make the earth swallow them before I am through."
Bones split and reformed beneath taut skin, tendons strained. "And when I am finished, mothers will frighten their children with my name." His back rose higher and higher until the last remnants of the man who had kissed your forehead that morning disappeared beneath coarse fur.
"I shall teach them what beast they have stolen from." One final howl cut the evening, then the wolf ran.
By the time they hauled you into the village square, the last of the daylight had begun to dissipate across the rooftops. The church bell rang once, then again. Its heavy toll rolled over the village until doors began to open. People emerged slowly, clutching rosaries, little wooden crosses, prayer books worn soft with age. Mothers pulled their children close as fathers stood before them, shoulders squared as though preparing for war.
The preacher stood upon the old stone well at the centre of the square, his hands lifted toward the heavens. "Our prayers have been answered." A murmur rippled through the gathering. "The Lord has returned His lost lamb to us."
"Amen."
"Amen."
"Amen."
You struggled weakly against the ropes biting into your wrists. "I am not lost!"
The preacher's voice only grew louder. "For months we have mourned the loss of Father Aldren, the closest thing this village ever knew to a servant of God.." His eyes swept over the crowd before settling upon you. "And who slew him?"
"The beast!" several voices answered.
"Who desecrated the church?"
"The beast!"
"Who stole this poor child from her mother's embrace?"
"The beast! The abomination!"
You shook your head desperately. "No! No, that is not what happened!"
One of the men behind you struck the back of your knees and you fell hard upon the cobblestones. "The Devil does not enjoy being contradicted, you see."
Pain shot through your legs, but you forced yourself upright. "He never stole me!" you cried. "I went with him willingly!"
A horrified gasp swept through the square. The preacher closed his eyes. "You hear it.." His voice was almost mournful. "The corruption has rooted itself deep!"
"No!"
"He has poisoned her soul!"
"He is my husband!" The words tore themselves from your throat before fear could swallow them. "Do you hear me? I am his wife!"
A sharp crack echoed through the square as your head snapped sideways. The taste of blood bloomed across your tongue.
A woman hurriedly covered her little daughter's ears. Another crossed herself. "The Devil speaks through her.." someone whispered.
"No..." Tears spilled freely down your bruised face. "Please— Please listen.."
The preacher stepped down from the well until he stood only a few paces away. He stepped down from the well until only a few paces separated the two of you. He looked upon your bruised face before turning sharply back toward the crowd.
"Look at her!" His voice rang across the square. "And look well!"
People leaned forward, children peeked from behind their fathers.
"This..." He pointed at you as though you were no more than an animal dragged in from the hunt. "This is what becomes of those who forsake the Lord!" A chorus of amens answered him.
"To hell with the beast!"
"No!" You lurched against the ropes, nearly losing your footing. "He never forced me!" A fist crashed into your stomach and air fled your lungs. You doubled over with a broken gasp. "He is my husband—" you managed between breaths. "I chose him.."
The preacher threw both hands into the air. "You hear it!" His face twisted with righteous fury. "She speaks of the beast as though he were a man!"
"He is!" Another blow. Your lip split anew against your teeth. "I am his lo-lover, his wife!"
The square erupted. "She belongs on the pyre!"
The preacher smiled victorious. Your head snapped upward.
"Your mother waited. She waited for the daughter stolen from her."
The crowd murmured, women weeping.
"She begged God every night to send you home."
"I—I.."
"She died with your name upon her lips, yet you were not there to close her eyes. You were not there to bury her."
"No.. Stop it—"
"You were lying beside a monster while your own mother was laid beneath the earth!"
A cry tore itself from your throat, your sobs breaking against the empty square as the cold stones beneath your knees greedily drank your tears.
The preacher turned slowly toward the villagers.
"Do you see?" He spread his arms wide. "Even now the Devil clings to her!"
"I love hi-him!" you sobbed, barely able to breathe. "He loves me!"
A man spat at your feet. "Beast's whore!" As several others laughed.
The preacher raised his hand once more. "She threatens the souls of every child in this village."
As though summoned by the words, a little boy peered timidly from behind his mother's skirts and his eyes found yours. They were frightened but curious. You looked back at him through tears, your swollen lips trembling into the faintest, most broken smile you could manage.
The boy frowned. "Mama.."
"What is it?"
"Why is she crying..?"
The woman looked from her son to you. For the briefest instant, pity flickered across her face.
Then the preacher's voice boomed through the square. "Do not let your children look upon her!"
The woman gasped, yanking the little boy behind her so sharply he stumbled.
"Down!" she hissed. "Eyes down!"
"But Mama–"
"She'll poison your soul!" The little boy buried his face against his mother's skirts.
The preacher watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. He turned slowly, addressing not you, but every soul gathered in the square. "The serpent has no fangs of its own." He pointed toward you. "It borrows ours."
His gaze swept over the frightened children. "It smiles. It weeps. It speaks with the gentle voice of a beautiful woman. And before you know it.." He spread his hands. "Your own child calls evil love."
"Amen."
"Amen."
The man descended the final step. His boots stopped an arm's length before you. You refused to lower your eyes and for that alone, he smiled.
"So much pride." His hand shot forward without warning. Fingers buried themselves in your hair, wrenching your head back so sharply a cry slid past your bloody teeth.
"There." He studied your face as though searching for something beneath your human skin. "Can you hear Him?"
Your breathing came ragged.
"L—et go."
"Pray!" The word rang loud and ugly. "Pray with me, child."
You glared up at him through tear stained lashes.
"Ask the Lord's forgiveness." His grip tightened. "Show Him there yet remains the smallest ember of holiness within your soul."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only those nearest could hear. "I would spare you if I could. But first..." As he gave your hair another cruel tug. "The beast must loosen his grip upon your heart."
Around you, the villagers had already begun.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven..." One voice became five then five became twenty. Soon the entire square was praying. Louder, louder still.
The preacher looked down at you expectantly. "Pray."
But you said nothing.
"Pray." His jaw tightened. "I said—"
You drew in one slow breath then spat. Blood and saliva struck his cheek. The crimson slowly slid down his face. For a moment, he simply stared at you and you met his gaze without flinching.
"He— has shown me more grace with blood upon his hands." Your voice trembled, though not with fear. "You are a coward dressed as a holy man! If this is the face of God's servant.." you whispered, your eyes burning into his "Th-Then I should sooner kneel before the Devil."
The preacher wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, turning the bloodstained flesh toward the villagers as he began. "The beast has taught her well."
The preacher had only just opened his mouth to speak again when shouting erupted from the far end of the square.
"Father!"
The crowd parted instinctively as two watchmen came stumbling between them, breathless, one clutching his side where he'd clearly fallen in his haste.
"Father.." one gasped. "He's here."
"Who?"
"The Beast."
"I saw him!" the younger watchman cried. "By the treeline! He's watching us!"
The preacher slowly lifted one hand. At once, the panic quieted. "Do not loose your arrows."
The hunters stared at him. "But Father—"
"I said." His voice rang like thunder. "Do not loose your arrows."
"He'll slaughter us."
"Let him come." Several heads turned toward him in disbelief. "Today..." he continued "The Lord Himself shall judge between beast and man."
The wolf was here. The crowd slowly parted, leaving the road to the forest completely bare. Nobody breathed for nobody dared to.
Beyond the final row of cottages, where the pines swallowed the last of the evening light, something moved. Branches bowed aside before him like loyal followers.
Several villagers immediately fell to their knees.
"Oh merciful Father..." Another man crossed himself over and over, his lips moving in frantic prayer. "He is enormous.."
Leon stood at the edge of the trees carved from the mountain itself. His silver coat was soaked dark in places where branches and stone had torn through skin during his desperate pursuit, blood disappearing beneath thick fur. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, each one curling pale mist into the cooling air.
All of it ceased to exist when there you were, bruised, bound with blood upon your face.
"Leon.. Don't—"
His ears twitched as the only sign he had heard you at all.
"So." His voice carried through the silence. "The wolf comes to reclaim what he believes belongs to him?"
Leon did not answer. His lips peeled back just enough to reveal the gleam of impossibly long fangs, the expression of a starving wolf's might.
The preacher did not take his eyes off the wolf. A smile spread across his face. "Untie her."
Several hunters hesitated. "Father.."
"I said untie her." Just like that the ropes fell away from your wrists.
"Leon—!" Your legs gave beneath you and you stumbled across the square, scraping your knees against the stones.
"Leon.." He never took his eyes off the men surrounding you. Only when you reached him did his great head lower. You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face into the thick silver fur. "Oh, Leon.."
A soft, aching whine rumbled from somewhere deep within his chest. His tongue brushed the blood from your cheek. Your hands buried themselves in his coat.
"I'm here.." you whispered through tears. "I'm here." His enormous body shifted, placing itself between you and the village without thinking.
Behind you the preacher lowered one hand.
And so, the bowstring sang. Your scream never had the chance to leave your throat.
The arrow buried itself deep beneath Leon's shoulder with a sickening sound.
His howl split the evening and the mountains answered. Pain overtook him, then the instinct to shield. His enormous body lurched sideways despite the hurt, forcing itself between you and the village. One foreleg buckled beneath him, but he planted the other, lowering himself over you until all you could see was silver fur and blood.
Another arrow could not reach you, not while he still breathed.
"Leon!" you sobbed.
His breath shuddered, he barely seemed to hear. The muscles along his back trembled violently as he searched the crowd, ears flattened, lips peeled back over crimson teeth.
One more step, and another. He tried to drive them back but his legs gave. The blood was coming far too quickly so the great wolf staggered once before the magic began to unravel. Bone shifted beneath skin and the monstrous frame folded inward with awful cracks until Leon collapsed into your arms, his breathing ragged, blood soaking the front of his shirt.
"My fawn.." His voice was so small. You caught his face between bloody hands. "I am here."
His eyes found yours. "Do not cry.."
The preacher stepped forward, his voice ringing across the deathly silent square. "Behold!"
He pointed toward the bleeding man in your embrace. "The abomination that desecrated God's house!"
He looked down upon Leon with open contempt.
"Look well. This is the monster she chose over her own salvation."
You stared at the arrow slick with Leon's blood as the monster's words rang empty. "I'm sorry.." Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly because he knew. Before he could stop you, you wrenched the shaft free. Leon cried out as the arrow teared through meat and flesh.
The sound shattered whatever remained of you.
"I'm s-sorry.." you sniffled, your hands slick with his blood. "I'm so, so sorry.."
His fingers caught weakly at your wrist.
"My sweet fawn.."
You looked at him one last time then you stood. No one moved to stop you. Perhaps they thought you meant to surrender, perhaps they believed you too broken to do anything at all.
The preacher smiled. "There now.." he said, opening his arms as though welcoming you back into the fold. "The Lord's light has finally reached your heart. Come, child."
The bloodied arrow hung limp in your hand.
"You have suffered greatly.." he continued. "But He is merciful! Kneel before—"
His words vanished into a startled gasp as you drove the arrow into his throat.
His eyes searched yours, wide with confusion, with disbelief, as though he could not fathom how the frightened little girl he once pitied had become the thing standing over him now. His lips parted, but only wet, choking gurgles escaped as blood spilled down his chin.
You pulled the arrow free and struck again.
And Again. Again. Again!
Each blow came with another cry of your own, shoulders shaking so violently you could barely keep your footing. "You—" you choked, driving the shaft forward once more. "You hurt him!" Another strike. "You dared to hurt him!" Another. "You hurt.." Your voice broke completely. "My husband..."
The preacher stumbled backward, his robes darkening as he tried to raise a hand toward you. The monster's body struck the cobblestones with a dull and final thud.
The arrow slipped from your fingers. For a long moment you simply stood there as blood dripped from your hands.
Slowly, you turned. The entire square stared back at you. The hunters still held their bows, yet not a single one remembered how to draw the string.
Your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths as tears still streamed down your bloody and blossoming face.
"You wanted a beast..?" You took a single step toward them. Immediately, three men stumbled backward. "You wanted one? Come." Your voice cracked. "Come and see one.."
But no one moved. "Come!" The scream birthed itself from somewhere so deep inside of you that it didn't sound human.
A little girl burst into terrified sobs. One of the hunters looked desperately toward the preacher's body, waiting. Waiting for an order that would never come.
Their shepherd lay dead and their certainty had died beside him. The square, so full of righteous fury only moments before, suddenly felt very small, very quiet and very afraid.
You looked from one face to the next. Faces that had watched them beat you, that had cheered, that had called your husband a devil. Not one of them met your eyes now.
"Sweet girl..."
Heart lunching, you spun around at once.
Leon had managed to push himself halfway upright before his strength deserted him again, one blood soaked hand pressed uselessly against the wound in his chest. "Leon, do not move.."
Both hands found his face, brushing blood matted strands of hair away from his brow. "Can you stand?" you whispered.
He tried but his knees buckled almost immediately, a pained sound escaping him.
"I-I've got you," you whispered, gathering him into your arms as though nothing else in the world existed. "I've got you.."
His forehead rested against yours. Even now, with the square frozen in horrified silence, his only concern was you. "My brave.." he began, his voice barely there. A faint smile was on his lips despite the pain. "My brave girl of the moon.."
You gathered him against your chest, letting him rest where your heartbeat was strongest, and through trembling lips you sang the very melody that had once guided a frightened little girl through the same woods he had watched over for centuries, long before you had ever known the wolf's name.
Far where the spring begins and winter ends..
Caught on a death-ill wind, the river bends.
A dear woodpecker that sings my plight,
Of one thirsty summer, when one had might.
The rain that knows my sorrow, the willow tree...
Has its roots of autumn remember me.
You take a deep breath as tears fall upon his still, but barely, smiling face. You brushed the hair from his face with careful fingers as you continued.
So sleep, my dearest child, your mother's here.
As flowers bloom with life, no monster's near.
The sound of midnight stars shall keep us safe.
None shall hurt thee, dear, in mother's wake..
The last note lingered only for a moment before the forest claimed it. You rested your forehead against his, crying. "You promised—" you whispered with a smile that fought apart beneath fresh tears. "You promised you'd never leave me alone again.."
Still, the wind had no answer.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
It’s The Good Kush Boyz @imabsolutegarbage - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
