#And figured if he was fast enough maybe he could catch up before it became a wall again

[ailithnight]

Barry knowing the bird painted the tunnel implies that Barry watched him do it and still fell for it.

Danny, in the midst of learning how to shapeshift in his ghost form, ran into an issue. He’s stuck he can’t change shape.

He’s stuck as a ghostly roadrunner in Central City. The home the Flash.

[milayawr]

Stolen Pieces

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: The reader has to steal for her debts, and the victim of her last theft isn't happy about it.

Warnings: Mentions of Pekka Rollins and death.

Word Count: 1,340

Notes: I'm not sure about it but here we go.

+ I decided to use "you" instead of "she/her" and it's a big change for me but i'll do it anyways.

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It was a tough decision but you made it years ago when your mother died. You didn't have time to think back then, you just had to. Every weekend, you went to pray for your sins to be forgiven. Stealing was a sin and you had become a sinner. You were living with the need of being forgiven. No one would forgive you if they knew you were the one who stole their important belongings.

But you needed the money as much as you needed forgiveness. Your mother died with debts and after her death, they were all over you. You inherited the debts. Pekka Rollins would kill her if you won't pay all of them.

It was nearly done, your freedom was so close. You could feel it on your fingertips. But it was also hard to do. You had to steal ten thousand kruge in five days. Five days till your freedom or death.

You've made a deal four years ago. You will pay your mother's debts and be free. If you can't pay off all of them before your twentieth birthday, Pekka will kill you.

Pekka had many enemies, and none of them could finish him. He was dangerous as hell.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall. Your breath got stuck in your lungs because of how fast you ran. You continued to run until you were certain that you had distanced yourself from the port. Maybe it was a big mistake to steal the most known pirate's money, but it was more than enough to close the debts of your dead mother.

Your mother had you when she was really young. You knew that you were a whole mistake, but your mother had shown you love. She got into debt to feed you, give you a safe house, and help you, her daughter, grow up less pathetic than you were meant to be. You had to close the debts.

The streets were empty and dark. You trusted the darkness more than anyone else because it was easy to steal when it was dead of the night. You hated every second of it and would hate every moment of your future life— if only there would be such a thing.

You checked the bag that was hiding the money. All of them were there. More than ten thousand kruge. You couldn't hide her happiness. You pressed the bag to your chest as you tried to push back your tears. You didn't cry but wanted to cry like a newborn babe cries for the love of a mother. When it's all done, you will spend your whole life praying and seeking the forgiveness of the saints. For four years, you had nothing to do but steal. After all of it, you will be free to seek forgiveness.

The darkness that surrounded her became heavier as you started to walk. You felt her heartbeat get slower, and it scared you. Your eyes were heavier than the darkness, and then you fell into someone's arms. The strong arms of a man started to carry you. Step after step, your sight became darker, and finally, your mind went away for a dreamless sleep.

———

Sounds of wood filled your ears. As your consciousness came back, you kept your eyes closed. You wanted to figure out who had kidnapped you. Someone was walking around. The sound of wood was strange yet familiar to you. You couldn't understand how many people were there. Only the footsteps of someone were loud and clear.

"She's awake." Said a female voice. You started to open your eyes and waited for a headache, but there was nothing but blankness. You couldn't remember how you got here.

"Well, well," this time, the voice belonged to a male. You saw him standing, so you thought it was his footsteps that were torturing the wooden floor of the ship.

The ship.

The realization hit you hard in the face. You were on the ship of the famous Sturmhond. They've managed to catch you and will probably kill you. It was really a mistake to steal from him. Now he will throw you away to the sea and watch the creatures of the sea eat and torture you and laugh while you die.

Pekka sounded very nice after all.

"I am sorry," you stated as you panicked. You couldn't even choose the words that left your mouth.

"So she knows her mistake," Sturmhond said. "Very well." His foot carried him closer to you. Every step of his took a second from your life. "Tolya, Tamar, you can leave us. I have to deal with this beautiful thief that came out of the blue."

They left without any words. Your stomach was against you and started to turn up and down. You were going to throw up because of how you were scared at the moment. "You took your money back, I assume."

"You assume the right thing."

"So I can go now. You know, you took it back and now it is my turn to go."

"No, I don't know, actually." He stepped closer and closer to you. Your eyes sought a sword or anything that could kill you in a second, but there was nothing. Just him and you and the bed you were sitting on. "I want to understand something first. Why would a girl like you steal my money?"

"Maybe because I need it?" You regretted those words, but it was too late. Words hung on the air while regret put an ashy taste to your mouth.

Your soul nearly left your body when you heard a laugh from him. "Yeah, I get that, obviously. But why do you need it?"

You didn't want to tell him about your mother's debts. It was too embarrassing for you. You weren't ashamed of your mother; on the contrary, you were ashamed of yourself. You could have a proper job and have money. But the jobs that were offered to you were not appropriate at all.

"I—" You hesitated, but he waited for you to respond patiently. "I have debts." You cut it short and avoided telling the details to a famous stranger.

Sturmhond just studied you. His eyes observed your face and your expressions closely. "You are stealing for your debts," He said. "Why aren't you finding an easier way?"

Your fear of death changed itself to another thing. Your eyes were filled with anxiety and you were trembling. You pulled yourself back as possible.

"No, you got me wrong," He declared when he saw the sudden change in you. "I meant to offer you a job here, and in exchange, I would pay off all of your outstanding debts. It's not a job in the way that you're thinking."

"Why?" You asked because you knew no good was for free. Why would he want a thief to work with him?

"Because I'm impressed, that's it." He threw the money bag into the air and caught it again. "I want you to work for me and I'll pay your debts. Deal?"

You ignored him to think for a while. It was a great opportunity, but you didn't know if he was serious. What if he was tricking you into some trap? What if he was just trying to give you hope and then kill you with those empty words? You weren't sure about it, but your life was close to the end anyways. There was no way to find ten thousand kruge in five days again. You had the chance, but the chance had turned its face against you.

You had fallen into gambling between Pekka and Sturmhond, and you had to choose one. Pekka would kill you anyways because you lost the money you had. Sturmhond would probably kill you because the money you stole was his. It could be a trap but... You had to choose one of the paths.

So, you decided to play with your unfortunate fate. "Deal."

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Part Two

[mx-pastelwriting]

Could you do Johnny Depp x Reader rough dominate smut, with a few year age gap between Johnny and reader? Maybe even add how they met?

I love writing Johnny Depp!!

Johnny Depp x GN! Reader

Summary: Request up top!

Warning: Established Relationship, Smut, Dom, Rough, Belt (No hurting), Slight Bondage

(-Sorry for doing this way to late I took a break still hope you like it!)

Minors do not interact!

Letting out a big sigh as you continued to flip through the channels. Being up all night waiting for Johnny to get home as his tour ended two days ago, and now he was on his way home to you. It wasn't anything new to you both. Him being away for long periods of time and only talking to him when he figured out how to work his phone.

Finally, something caught your attention enough for you to put the remote down on the nightstand. Only for you to curl up in bed with your eyes threatening to close on you. Not before Johnny made his way into the room with his bags in his hands. He smiled at you when his eyes met yours.

Returning the smile and watched as he put the bags down and made his way to you. He sat on the bed and gave you a kiss, not saying a word, before going into the bathroom. The usual when he comes home.

Hearing him messing around with his belt. It caused you to bite your lip and rub your legs together, and you couldn't help but whine quietly. It's strange how a simple noise can bring back memories of all the ways he's used it on you.

How it was the subject when you two met—oddly enough, his belt was something to look at as you worked with him on the set of his movies. Before you could snap out of your drunken daze, the feeling of Johnny's soft lips pulled you back to reality. You smiled as you returned the kiss, your hands settling on his cheek and then into his soft hair.

Humming into the kiss as he pulled you closer. The kiss broke as you laughed at his hand pulling up your shirt. Looking into his eyes, he never looked more in love, and to be fair, it had been almost a year since he had his hands on you. "Welcome home, Johnny," you say with a big smile on your face as you look into his soft brown eyes.

"Thank you, love," he says in a tired voice before kissing your neck. Moaning as you feel his hands make their way down to your shorts, pulling them down. You bit your lip as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hard-clothed cock closer to you.

A groan left him as he stopped at your neck to sit up and look at you. As you both catch your breath, you watch as he takes off his shirt and starts to undo his pants, then throws off his underwear as his pants lay barely on the bed before hurriedly taking off yours too.

Laying back down as you watched your shirt be tossed off the bed. Your gaze moved down his body before coming to a halt at his twitching cock at the sight of you. His breath hitched as you opened your legs, letting him see all of you as he had many times before. His hands snaked their way up your body, then back to his pants that barely hung off the bed, and he removed the belt. Turning back to you, you were lost in your own lust to pay attention to him, tying up your hands with his belt and pitting them against the board.

Reaching for his cock and strokes himself slowly; he moans so softly. You whine in jealousy, and he smirks as he kisses your body and begins to worship it.

Feeling his cock twitch before it pushes into your wet, warm walls. A gasp sounded from your throat before moans came out of the flood gates. His hands gripped on to your thighs, and his lips attacked your neck. Your eyes rolled back as his thrusts became more animalistic. His hard cock hit all the right places, stretching you, making you gasp for air as your stomach swam.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled into your ear, making you bite your lip in the middle of a moan. Moans harmonize as he pounds into you slowly but hard, as he didn't want you to cum with his fast thrust; he wanted to make you cum with him deep in you. It was working as your climax was building up fast, and he started to play with you, making you wiggle under him.

"Johnny please-" cut off as he slammed into you harder. Your back arched, and a velvety moan escaped you. "You like that, God, you feel so good!" As you felt your high approaching, his words triggered something in you. "Johnny, make me cum." That was all he needed to hear before he worked harder on you. His cock carved its way deep into you, but started up his fast pace again. His moan filled the room with yours. Skin slapping with the bed made it sound as if it was going to break, making you more hot and bothered, and the way he looked at you made you want to ride him.

But you were his tonight. "I'm gonna cum, baby." He kissed you before moaning "fuck" into it. Your hands gripped onto him as his cock was driven into you. His warm cum was filling you up, and his groans were sounding into your mouth as his kiss became rough. "Fuck, I love you."

Finally something caught your attention enough for you to let the remote down on to the nightstand. Only for you to curl up in bed with your eyes threatening to close on you. Not before your Johnny made his way into the room with his bags in his hands. He smiled at you when his eyes met yours.

Returning the smile and watched as he put the bags down and made his way to you. He sat onto the bed and gave you a kiss not saying a word before going into the bathroom. The usual when he comes home.

Hearing him mess around with his belt. It made you bite your lip and you legs rub together you could help but whine quietly. Crazy how a simple noise could make the memories of the many ways he's used it on you. And how it was the subject when you two met oddly enough his belt what something to look at as you worked with him on set of his movies. Before you could snap out of your drunk daze the feeling of Johnny's soft lips pulls you back to reality. You smiled as you returned the kiss with your hands planting themself on to his cheek then into his soft hair.

He hummed into the kiss as he pulled you closer. The kiss broke as you laughed at his hand pulling up your shirt. Looking into his eyes he never looked more into love to be fair it had been almost a year since he had his hands on you. "Welcome home Johnny" You say with a big smile on your face as you looked into his soft brown eyes.

"Thank you love" He says in a tired voice before kissing down to your neck. Moaning as you feel his hands make their way down to your shorts pulling them down. You bit your lip as you wrapped you legs around him pulling his hard clothed cock closer to you.

A groan left him as he stopped at your neck to sit up and look at you. As you both catch your breath you watch as he took off his shirt and started to undo his pants then throw off his underwear as his pants lay barely on the bed before hurriedly taking off yours too.

Laing back down as you watched your shirt be thrown down off the bed. Your eyes explored down his body then stopped at his hard throbbing cock twitching at the sight of you. His breath hitched as you opened your legs letting him see all of you like the many times before. His hands snaked there way up you body then back to his pants that barley hanged off the bed he removed the belt. Turning back to you, lost in your own lust to pay attention to him tying up your hands with his belt and pitting them to the board.

He reaches for his cock and strokes himself slowly; he moans so soft. Whining in jealousy he smirks the kisses your body and begins to worship your body.

Feeling his cock twitch before it pushed into your wet warm walls. A gasp sounded from your throat before moans came out of the flood gates. His hands gripped on to your thighs and his lips attacked your neck, your eyes rolled back as his thrusts became more animalistic. His hard cock hitting all the right places stretching you, making you gasp for air as your stomach swam.

"You feel so fucking good" He growled into your ear making you bite your lip in the middle of a moan. Your moans harmonizes as he pounds into you slowly but hard as he didn't want you to cum with his fast thrust he wanted to make you cum with him deep in you. It was working as your climax was building up fast and he started to play with you making you wiggle under him.

"Johnny please-" You were cut off as he slammed into you harder, your back arched and a velvety moan escaped you. "You like that, god you feel so fucking good!" His words stirred something in you as you felt you high coming. "Johnny make me cum" That was all he needed to hear before he worked harder on you. His cock carved it way into your deep but started up his fast pace again, His moan filled the room with yours. Skin slapping with the bed sounds as if it was going to break made you more hot and bothered, and the way he looked at you made you want to ride him.

But tonight you were his. "I'm gonna cum baby" He kissed you before moaning "fuck" into it. Hands griped onto him as his cock was driven into you, His warm cum filling you up and his groans sounding into your mouth as his kiss became rough. "Fuck, I love you"

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[bhaal-battle-beer-bard]

Kissing every one of your ridges – With horns and tail and everything

➹pairing: Astarion x F!Tiefling DarkUrge Tav (Bard Saulus by myself @judasiskariot)

"Let me kiss every single one of your ridges"

➹summary: Tav only reacts totally supportive and respectfully after Astarion’s "But this...this is nice" confession at Act II. But it also hurts her inside to hear that he just tricked her out of bad habit and not meant it true, when she already did. That lurks in her head and she start to delusional thinking, that he also does not want to touch her, because he secretly dislikes her Tiefling body and she begins to hate it…

➹content/tags/warning: angst, self harm, self hatred, body image problems, fluff, romance, lime/spice, body positivity

➹word count: 3,737

➹pictures: all of course by the talented @aristenfromwarsaw ; highly recommend her blog

➹a/n: I am not going to say it is the fault of @aristenfromwarsaw again, but it is her fault 😆🤣😜🤗

Her wonderful romantic screenshot of Astarion&Saulus inspired the ideas in my head to this story

Title credit also goes to her, because it was her reaction when telling her my story idea and yeah 😭❤️😭❤️😭 *ugly sobbing*

“I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.” " You are worth a great deal to me, no matter what you're going through. I care about you. Deeply" "This…this is nice!”

The conversation was not many days ago. Astarion revealed his true feelings towards the Bard, or maybe some lies about his behavior, but to reveal true feelings at the end. Feelings he seemed to get caught by surprised. He catched them like a cold, at least he sounded while his confession.

But Saulus understood his message. His words did not really matter to convince her, alone the true sound of his voice was enough for her to understand. He never had spoken to her like that before.

Astarion wanted them to be something real and Saulus wanted to give him time, space and respect for his body. Taking the steps back, they made to fast in the first place. She liked Astarion, not his figure or their nightly trysts.

„Is it really okay with you that we kiss?”, asked the Tiefling concerned after parting her lips from Astarion’s.

“I said that I want to take things slow and abstain from Sex, not that we are strangers to each other from now on”, clarified the elf.

He pulled her down on the sleeping roll in his tent.

“I am not made of porcelain, even when I am looking so beautiful like that”, he purred and kissed her again.

Their bodies lay cautiously together and the bard let herself in for a kiss again.

Her arms held Astarion tight while her lips explored his ever more firmly.

The vampire became a little heavier on her, she felt his body weighing on hers.

In a pleasant way.

She heard his breathing and her own sighs between kisses.

His hand lay at the skin of her side, dancing up to her rib cage like a wisp of the wind. Her skin tingled when feeling his own.

The hint of a touch of his fingers at the base of her breasts under the light sleeping fabric.

She wanted to feel Astarion, so much to feel his touch. His hands on her breasts. His firm grip.

Her skin burned under his fingers, burned like the fires of Avernus that could only be extinguished if their bodies were united. How much she longed to feel him inside her. But...no, they didn't want that. That was exactly what they didn't want anymore. And it was good that way. But his lips and his hands on her breasts made her body think further. Her body that knew his and longed for it.

Saulus groaned and her hands automatically pulled Astarion closer to her. He paused briefly and then it hit her that they might be going too far.

She had no control over her lust, was going to overstep…no it seemed she already did. They agreed that Sex did not matter, and yet she enjoyed his closeness too much. In the wrong way.

Frightened, she pushed him away.

"Stop!"

"What is it?", asked Astarion irritated.

"We should cease that.”

"What exactly? We're just kissing."

"Yes. Let's call it a night.”

Astarion and the bard separated. They sat down on their knees facing each other. The Tiefling gently took his hands in hers and smiled slightly at him before Astarion leaned back a little and looked at her expectantly. She slowly pushed his hands back and placed them on his knees.

“It's getting too stifling and hot for me in this tent...I....should go.” Saulus downright jumped on her feet “I need to go."

Who even initiated the kiss? Him or her? It was Saulus herself, right? He didn’t really want to kiss her actually, screamed her inner panicking voice in her head.

She messed up.

She told him she would wait patiently whenever he was ready to have a physical relationship with her again, and she messed up.

Like the little obedient Sceleritas Fel said she would. Not in a funny bloody way the butler seemed to enjoy so much, but the in the way to destroy everything that has a meaning to her, when touched by her hands.

Saulus went to the waterside.

Dark, cold water.

Dark and cold like the frowning glance upon her unknown soul.

She slipped out of her clothes and went into the water.

She shivered only a little bit.

The ice cold sparks of the drops felt good on her heated skin.

The blank surface mirrored her reflection perfectly back with the shimmer of the moon casted by the silvery maiden of the night.

Saulus looked at her silhouette.

Her body.

Her face.

Sharp teeth, devilish tail, ridges under skin, pikes upon her shoulders, demonic horns and long claws of a monster, that torn apart the sweet Tiefling bard Alfira. Dripping from her blood.

Nobody mourned her. Nobody blamed her for her death.

Only Gale was a bit scared afterwards.

Yes, she was a monstrous demon. Straight from the hells.

Tears walled up the blue eyes with the burning sparks of Avernus in it and Saulus punched frustrated and full of hate into the water. Punching her reflection, so that she did not have to watch her devilish countenance of a monster no longer.

No wonder Astarion did not like her from the start, only slept with her that she was on his side, saw him of use that her killer rages were to his favor, not against him. No wonder he was scared of her.

No wonder he did not want to touch her no longer.

Saulus would not want to touch her either, if she were in his place.

Why would he?

He might be a ravenous vampire, but still a high elf with full of grace. Head high, perfect posture, fine lips and nose and chaw line.

And she - slowly her silhouette manifested on the water surface again and Saulus looked upon her deep dusk purple appearance…she was just a demon from the hells.

A monster with a little doomed butler that was whispering urges into her ear and soul, that made her hand twitch in desire to kill the sweet moon cleric.

She would also not touch this foul, wretched body full of pikes of a devil.

Not when there were sweet elven maiden with light skin, pink shiny nibbles and long silver hair to touch and kiss.

The other night, Saulus already wished Astarion a good night and made her camp round to bid her “Sleep wells” to everyone.

“And ducks…I like ducks”, said Halsin.

Saulus chuckled.

Astarion’s ruby eyes had left the words from his book a long time ago. At least once the bard started talking to the druid in such a familiar way.

Only his face directed towards the book, to make the appearance of reading. His elven ears were literally all ears for the conversation of the Tiefling and the beary archdruid. Big dumb mountain of muscles, flinched through Astarion’s head.

He glanced side-eyes like a grumpy cat…ready to jump and claw.

“That is incredible cute“, she said her thoughts out loud. “And I pull myself together not to say: Unbearable cute as honey.“

„Oh, I bear you to say that”, Halsin winked and the bard nudged his shoulder while both laughed.

“It is nice to hear some laughter in this shadow curse troubled lands. But I would be happier when the curse is lifted for good. Once and for all”, sighed the druid.

“We are working on it. I hope too that it takes not much longer, Halsin.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything. Rest now and restore your strength for the tasks of tomorrow.”

“You too, Halsin.”

“Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan - seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you...which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart” "So the nights we spent together didn't mean anything?"

The words of Astarion echoed through her head.

Now when her body wanted to lay down to rest, her head could not stop to speak to her.

When talking to Astarion after her approached at her, all she could think about was to make clear to him, that he mattered to her. Mattered to her in every way. As a person, as a friend…and yes, more as friend. But it would never inflict how she would think about him, help him, protect him.

She wanted him to know that he is valued for just being, not for his body or something he could be use of. She made clear that he is free whatever he wanted to do so. Of course, when this included being with her, would make her most happy, but she would have understood if he wanted more distance, time to think and think for himself and his true needs and desires.

At least Saulus did not the hell know who she really was. The urgings in her head were sometimes…strange.

Bloody…

Having the talk with Astarion seemed to connect them, brought them closer. But lying awake at night, it just made her…sad by now.

All his sweet words and intimacy were just an act for him. He was an actor, playing the only role he knew. Slept with her ‘cause he thought he needed to. The only way to thank her for her blood because he didn’t think he has something else to give. Tricking her into liking him, while only than she would have protected him, as she would only protect lovers and not also friends.

As if they could not be friends without him giving his body and take care of hers.

All this while she wanted to get closer to him, because she started to like him. Fell like a dumb baby bird out of its nest.

She liked him not for his looks, but his snappy words. Giggling like a dumb fool at his mean sarcastic comments. Liking the theatric pronouncing of his words, worth of a bard.

Yes, she wanted to be near to him, only him and the true one, not the façade he put up. But…she only knew the façade, so it seemed. How could she claim to like the “real” Astarion, when he showed him to her only once.

He lied to her, tricked her, fooled her.

Or could she believe that all of this was just a glance and he catched the feelings right away and did his actings still out of behavior? 

She remembered her reflection in the water.  Horns and tail like a devil.

Why would he pick someone like this over others?

“It was easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in.” "So the nights we spent together didn't mean anything?" "Be true to yourself, my Lady.”

The blood-stained words of the mysterious butler and her own mixed themselves up in her head. Swirling, screaming. Red…dripping red with a murderous frequency of volume.

Saulus grabbed the sharpest dagger at the camp. Determined.

Her feet led her the way besides the Last Light Inn down to the waterside.

Quick, unseen, quiet.

She went again to the waters.

Pulled her blouse over her head and exposed her dusk violet skin to the moonlight, reflecting on the water.

But Saulus no longer looked at her reflection. She only was near the water, so the blood may drip in there and being washed away with no evidence.

No evidence…like killing the bard, my foul lady, again the voice of Sceleritas Fel echoed through her mind full of holes.

Saulus fell for Astarion. She fell so hard, that it almost hurt, she realized by now. Maybe not the tadpoles or the dark urge or the shadows of this lands were her curse, no – maybe it was rather Astarion.

She knew she liked him, really, deeply. But only by now she realized what that really meant. It was maybe a bit scary. Or at least this dark shadow in her swirly head, told her so. Told her not to be worth of loving, or making her kill a whole city for him, if she must. Dangerous thoughts, Saulus knew that they did not belong to her. That were not her thoughts…where did they come from?

She felt light, joyful, sincere, happy, loving the love. That was her. But this things in her mind – in her heart – what kind of curse of those four possessed her, to whisper such things in the Tieflings unconscious?

She bit her sharp teeth together to shake off the voice inside her.

The Tiefling needed to focus on her task.

The bard reached with the knife to her back.

The blood should drop into the water and been washed away, away into the hells she must came from.

Saulus no longer wanted to see the horrific ridges upon her skin. She hated the damn pikes of demonic wings over her shoulder blades. Taken away the wonderful white, smooth elegant skin of a elven maiden, that Astarion could really like, desire…love at the end even.

With sadness, rage and desperate determination Saulus tried to manage to reach her back properly. Began to reach the ridges of the wings upon her shoulders with the sharp shiny blade. Breathing in frustration.

“What in the sweet hells do you think you are doing there?!”, snapped Astarions angry voice suddenly from behind and sounded reproachful and chiding.

He caught her by surprise and Saulus flinched.

At that very moment she felt him snatch the knife from her hands.

„I…I…“, she stuttered, covering her naked breasts in shame, did not know how to explain to him what she was doing.

Astarion looked concerned with his ruby eyes upon the skin of her back, made a step forward and his cold hands breath a hint of touch upon her skin.

Caring and careful.

“You got deep cuts”, he whispered softly, tenderly, concerned. More to himself than to her.

“Let’s go to Shadowheart!”, he said with loud, firm and convinced voice. “Our religious troubled cleric shall heal these cuts.”

“No!”, snapped Saulus quickly and almost panicked back “Not Shadowheart. It is not her duty to heal this.”

“I think a healing potion will not help immediately against the bleedings of the wounds”, explained Astarion to make her clear the cleric was the obvious logic choice. “Or do you prefer your druid to help you”, he muttered darkly with a nitpicky undertone.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”, Astarion shocked his head and expelled his own thoughts, seeing they were toxic dumb and made up in his head, “I said nothing.”

“How did you get injured?”, asked the pale elf with an empathetic undertone, that she had rarely heard from him before. Astarion was surprised by himself.

But he cared. Cared for her. He glanced at the knife in his hands, he took from her. “Considering that, you hurt yourself. Why? What did you want to accomplish with that?”

His ruby ​​eyes sparkled at the Tiefling woman with a raised eyebrow. The look of his sharp eyes made Saulus nervous.

“I…”, began Saulus again stuttering.

 “I wanted to cut off this ugly ridges and attachment of wings away from my damn shoulders”, she shouted angrily in desperation. Her face a manifest of loathing, hatred, disgust against her own body.

Astarion's face darkened visibly at her words.

„What? Are you dumb? Why would you do that?” All the softness was erased from his tone and words. His face full of anger and misunderstanding.

“Look at me! I am ugly! I am a monster!”, she pointed at her body. “With this stupid tail and horns. Kagha called me a devil, everyone does…and they are right to do that. That is all I am: A demon doomed by the gods. Straight out of the hells where I should rot with my wretched body. This body nobody wants to touch and love.”

Astarion grabbed her hand pulled her roughly towards him “Don’t you ever say that again!”, he hissed, flashing angrily with his eyes.

“But…”

“Nothing but, my silly dumb devil girl”, he purred. Astarion closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Come…”, he took her by the hand to the water, „…let’s wash this blood off your body.“

Her feet could already feel the sparks of the water.

The elf kneeled down in front of her, he pulled her leather trousers down her legs. The same way followed gently her undergarment.

With almost bated breath, Saulus looked at Astarion's white curls and watched him undress her.

Astarion gave her a quick wave and she stepped out of her pants without saying a word.

After that, his skillful hands undressed him himself.

Saulus watched as the white fabric of his shirt revealed the skin of his muscular chest, which shimmered palely in the moonlight. With slightly flushed cheeks, she looked away to stop staring at him.

It was ridiculous considering that they had slept together several times. But the situation had changed and the Tiefling wanted to be respectful. To give him space and maintain boundaries.

After they were both completely naked, Astarion took her hand again and waded into the water with her.

A shiver ran through her body briefly, which was noticeable on her skin and chest. But only briefly. Because even though the water and Astarion's hand were cold, his presence was still warm.

He carefully turned her around by her shoulder so that her back was to him.

After that, Astarion began to carefully clean the cuts. With a fine white handkerchief soaked in water that he had previously taken out of his trouser pocket, he gently stroked her skin to wash the blood off it.

He didn't say a word.

He was simply gentle and caring.

His hands skillful and loving.

He was just there.

The touch of a tingling sensation felt on both of their skin as they stood in the dark water of the night. Like the touch of angels' kisses: It began to drizzle gently.

The smell of rain slowly rose to their noses.

After nothing was visible on her body except for the cuts, she had made with the dagger in a stupid attempt to cut off her wing attachment ridges, Astarion carefully turned her over. The gentle spray slowly turned into drops of rain.

He probably didn't have to try so hard. The rain would have washed everything away.

It always did, right?

Could the rain wash you clean?

Astarion looked deep into her eyes. Could still see the struggles. The uncertainty.

He put a hand on her cheek, gently stroking it before he leaned over and kissed Saulus tenderly.

His other hand gradually came to rest on her hip and pulled her closer to him.

Despite the rain and her wet hair and the raindrops dripping from her horns, her body was warm.

Warm in the dark, foggy night that was slowly turning into the day. Yes, the night was always darkest before the fog gave way to the red of the morning. They would break the shadow curse as the druid had so urgently requested and longed for and then the sun would rise here again. But first Astarion had to break the shadow over his beloved.

His cold vampire hand stroked behind her head, roughly tangled in her wet hair and pulled it tighter against his kiss. At first they had only gently put their lips together, but now their lips had begun to suck each other deeply, to caress each other. Astarion's tongue skillfully stroked her lower lip while his other hand pulled her closer to him. Her lower body pressed against his, gently and lovingly, not arousingly. The vampire felt Saulus' breasts gently pressing against his own chest, which was getting wetter and wetter because of the night rain.

Astarion felt the rain. But above all he felt her.

His beloved.

His trouble-ridden lover.

She was so comforting warm and Astarion hoped inwardly that his own cold, undead vampire body did not feel too cold for his loved one.

Yes, he wanted to have her, he really wanted to try to have a relationship. Before he lost the chance with her. Lost her to someone else, or to herself. To her darkness.

She gave him something to worry about and care for. He was not indifferent to her like he was to everything else that did not concern him. And her love for others showed him that he was not indifferent to them either. Shadowheart, Gale, Wyll, Lae'zel, Minthara, Karlach and all the others. (Halsin maybe a little)

Slowly their lips separated and Astarion's hand came back to her cheek. His forehead rested on hers.

He felt their wet hair touching. Felt the tickling raindrops dancing on their skin.

"I never want to hear you talk badly about yourself again. Never think that again. You are wonderful."

"Really?" the Tiefling asked carefully and her eyes opened and tried to look into his eyes as best she could.

"Of course. You are beautiful. And I'm not just saying that," Astarion assured her in all seriousness. "I know," he sighed, "you find it hard to believe me after I deceived you at the beginning, right? But believe me, I'm serious. And that has nothing to do with the fact that I really think you're beautiful. And despite the inexplicable, mysterious darkness in you, I think you're a kind, wonderful person."

He smiled at her briefly before his face slipped into the mischievous elf face that everyone knew him to be.

"So despite the bloody start, the evening was actually quite nice and interesting."

"Astarion..." said Saulus and gave him a tormented smile, "...can you at least be serious for once and stop making jokes? If that doesn't work, it's better not to say anything at all."

"Sush..." the elf hissed playfully and led the bard out of the water.

"Come...", he said soft and true again, so true he wanted to be from now on forever to her, "I want you to sleep in my arms. Resting with me. With horns and tail and everything."

Astarion smiled at her “And then let me kiss every single one of your ridges.”

Original Picture Posts by @aristenfromwarsaw

➹a/n: This turned out way angstier than I wanted it to be 😰

 I never had enormous tragic backgroundstory with huge lore in it like so many others. Only funny quirks maybe. At home we came up with the fun idea, that Astarion started to test whether tiefling tails are erogenous, when he got bored during negotiations with Gortash. Since then it has been a running gag that he secretly does things with her tail in public. I asked if he then tries to find out what he can do with her horns when she is sleeping until she wakes up, until it becomes a game and someone dips her tail in jam.

And then she holds her in jam covered tail tight to her with tears in her eyes.

"NO! Astarion would never ever do such things. If anything, stupid children or Akabi would do it and he would comfort her afterwards."

This is how the idea came up, that when Saulus is nervous she generally holds her tail tight like children hold a security blanket.

"What could she be nervous about?"

"Maybe her wedding day..."

And from this came the fact that she is insecure about her whole tiefling body. Maybe to help others with similar thoughts.

Especially when being with someone so natural beautiful as Astarion with his elven looks.

She wondered why Bhaal would create someone looking like that, when he had the choice of all this beautiful creatures out there in Faerûn. Given the option, he still choose this appearance for his Chosen, his daughter, his own blood. His own spawn.

It could only be to scare people, to show them horror and fear, before sweet death.

So she always tried to hide herself.

But Astarion helped her accept, to love her body and to understand that there is so much beauty out there. In every form and so many different forms out there in Faerûn. Finally she was able to see herself through the eyes of others, how they saw her, how she really looked.

Bhaal may had shaped her, but it is her, that defines herself. Worth of love.

She is big, brave and beautiful!

And I hope this helps everyone with body image problems out there ❤️❤️

I was so inspired and emotionally touched by seeing my beloved blorbos as surprise screenshot, that, for a change, I just started writing my idea straight away.

I have so many BG3 fanfic ideas, why don't I write them? Because I suck at writing fanfiction in english and I really should finish my Resident Evil longfic. And I end up procrastinating not to do either 😅🙈

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 07: "when the clock strikes"

notes. long narration ahead. occurrence of the reader's symptoms (nosebleeds, headaches, feeling faint)

When Baizhu gave you the go-ahead to get discharged, you figured that it was only appropriate to go back to campus after a few weeks of rest. Thus why days later, on December 13 2022, you decide to come back after only attending classes from your bedroom. You could only thank your teachers that their materials were at least found online as well. You groan at the thought of the mountain of assignments and projects you had missed for the duration of your stay at the hospital.

When you enter your first lecture of the day, a swarm of students crowd your figure along with the concerned face of your professor. They exchange (more or less) well wishes for your health and you are bombarded with questions of what happened to you.

"I just needed a little time to rest, that's all!" was your excuse. You were not about to tell everyone and their mothers the exact reason why.

The school day passes by without anything significant happening, only the presence of a light headache began to form in the back of your head albeit, you try to push it out of your thoughts.

As you were leaving for the day, you bump into Kunikuzushi in the school courtyard.

"Sorry— Oh? Kuni?" From the past few weeks, he's taken the time to come by your place frequently to check on you and you were happy to say that you became fast friends. His little visits became somewhat a comfortable routine between the two of you. Which was enough to allow you the use of his nickname.

Kunikuzushi looks up from his tablet and his eyes widen a little. His purple hair slighty disheveled but somehow, it still looked good on him.

"(Name)?" He confirms.

"Didn't class just finish for you too? Where are you going now?" You ask, stuffing your earphones in the pockets of your pants.

He looks around for a bit, "Dr. Baizhu asked me to drop by today so I'm heading to the hospital."

"Ah." An idea pops into your head, "Hey, come to think of it, maybe I should come with you too."

Kunikuzushi sighs, "(Name). You just got out of the house today, are you sure you want to tire yourself out like this?" You then press a finger to his lips to stop him from continuing.

"I told you, I'm fine. Come on." Your hand falls and tugs at the gentle fabric of his long sleeve, dragging him away to where the hospital was a few blocks away.

The walk was short albeit filled with comfortable silence here and there. Both of you didn't have anything interesting to talk about but it was nice to know that the awkward ice the two of you shared has melted into a budding friendship with Kunikuzushi.

You have regretted a lot of things before. You regret letting Aether cook breakfast this morning, you regret picking up that totally random drink from your usual at the cafe, and lastly, you regret skipping the painkillers for the headache that was building up from this afternoon. The next thing you know, you stumble slightly beside Kuni and hold the wall of the walkway for support which doesn't escape the boy beside you.

"(Name), hey! What's happening?" He is quick to slip his hands around your side to support you a little while his eyes scrutinize your expressions for an idea of what you could possibly be feeling. You shake your head to dismiss him but then feel a wet sensation coming down from your nostrils.

Kunikuzushi swears, "Shit, you're fucking bleeding. Here, let me— hey, no, no. (Name), keep your eyes open just until I get you to the hospital."

Your vision fades in and out of blurriness as the headache you're experiencing is practically sending pangs of pain from every part of your skull, the nosebleed you have isn't helping a lot too.

You hear Kunikuzushi fumbling for his next course of action but it comes across as muffled. He hails a taxi that was just about to pass by and throws your arm around his shoulders as he lays you inside. You don't catch the driver's expression to know if he was surprised a half-conscious person with a nosebleed just entered his car with a slightly frantic intern of the hospital.

Kunikuzushi's POV :

Kunikuzushi paces outside the door to your room with Dr. Baizhu in it checking on your unconscious figure that laid peacefully on the hospital bed. His palms clammy, the intern doesn't bother to bring attention to the sore parts of his body.

Why was he worried?

He knew it was concern for you but was it really only just concern that came from someone in the medical field to a mere patient?

Or was it him letting down his walls, disregarding Baizhu's warning when he first started watching you.

He tried keeping his distance with you that day you all baked cookies, that this was the only time he was ever going to hang out this long with you.

But you.

You.

You had this energy, this aura that just acts like a magnet when it came to other people. Maybe that's why you were well-known as a singer-songwriter. You just attract. That's all there is to it. You were a magnet.

And unfortunately for Kunikuzushi, he is the south pole to your north.

And that's when it dawns on him that not only has he crossed the line when he considered you his friend, but when he started letting you get close to him as if your life wasn't on the clock with only ten months left.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee @lazy-sanns

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

[rootedinrevisions]

Man Enough: Part 1

SUMMARY: As the crowd cheers, you're focused on capturing the perfect shot of Drew's victory at NXT Takeover Brooklyn III, but the energy shifts when Adam Cole makes his shocking debut, attacking Drew from behind. You’ve seen Adam’s work before, but seeing him in person, up close, stirs something new in you. His confidence, his presence—it’s magnetic. As he stands over Drew, holding the championship belt, he catches your eye, and for a brief moment, your breath hitches. Later, backstage, Adam approaches you, his charm as undeniable as his performance. His teasing banter leaves you flustered, though you try to brush it off. But as he walks away, you realize that this won’t be the last time he’ll leave you feeling this way.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm trying to slowly get back into writing some fanfiction for professional wrestlers. I wrote this one about a month ago but never posted it because I wasn't sure it was good. But after doing some editing and revising I think I'm ready to post it!

WARNINGS: Fluff (It's mostly just flirting), Maybe some explicit language?

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Just specify which fandom/characters you are interested in!

The Barclays Center was electric, the crowd’s cheers vibrating through the floor beneath your feet as Drew McIntyre stood tall in the ring, victorious, the NXT Championship gleaming in his hands. You stood ringside, your back to the hard camera, capturing the moment of triumph. Drew was overcome with emotion, taking a knee, and staring down at the title as if he couldn’t believe it was his.

Your camera lens was focused on him, framing the perfect shot of the new champion. The angle was flawless, the crowd roar was a powerful soundtrack behind the image you were creating. You were lost in the moment, in the artistry of it all, until you heard a wave of sound–a shift in the crowd’s energy. The cheers became sharper, more frantic.

To your right, the audience’s attention veered toward one of the exits. Faces lit up with excitement, heads turning away from Drew. Something was happening. You quickly adjusted your stance, eyes darting left. That’s when you saw them. Bobby Fish and Kyle O’Reilly, standing menacingly at the far-left corner of the ring, their focus locked on Drew.

Your pulse quickened. There hadn’t been any word about a post-match interference, no mention of an attack. Yet here they were, staring Drew down like wolves ready to strike. Instinctively, you lifted your camera again, ready to capture whatever unfolded next.

Drew, still breathless but unfettered, rose to his feet and squared off with the intruders. But before he could react, a blur appeared behind him. You barely caught the movement–a figure rushing into the ring, fast and deliberate. He shoved Drew from behind, sending him crashing into the corner.

The crowd erupted, and your heart skipped a beat. Boots. Jeans. A dark suit jacket. The man’s back was to you, but the attack was vicious, relentless.

And then he turned–just enough for you to see his face.

Adam Cole. 

Your breath hitched.

He mounted Drew, fists raining down on the new champion’s head, each punch more savage than the last. The arena buzzed with shock, with adrenaline. But all you could focus on was him. The way he moved with such confidence, such precision. You’d seen him work the indie circuit, sure. You knew he was good. But this? Seeing him in person, up close, with that dangerous smirk curving his lips–it was something else entirely.

You watched as Adam stood, shrugging off his suit jacket and tossing it aside like it was nothing. Bobby Fish and Kyle O’Reilly joined the assault, dragging Drew to his feet. And Adam, as composed as ever, calmly pulled the tie from his hair, letting the long strands fall loose around his face. He was in full control, not just of the situation, but of the crowd, of the ring–of you.

You could feel your pulse in your ears as you raised your camera again, fingers shaking ever so slightly as you tried to steady the lens.

With one swift motion, Adam delivered a brutal superkick to Drew, sending the champion crashing back to the mat. The crowd roared, but everything around you felt muted as if it was all happening in slow motion. Your camera lens zoomed in, capturing the moment Adam squatted over Drew’s beaten body. He picked up the championship belt, holding it with the ease of someone who already knew it would be his.

He smirked. And you clicked the shutter, capturing the moment.

Your eyes stayed locked on him, on the way his lips curled in satisfaction, the way his presence commanded attention. You’d never been so close to him before–had only seen in in passing or from a distance. But here he was, just feet away from you, his confidence and charisma wrapping around you like a spell. And you weren’t sure how long you could resist it.

As the cameras cut and the crowd’s cheers began to subside, Adam turned toward the ropes. Kyle and Bobby followed suit, but before Adam slid out of the ring, he glanced over his shoulder. Your heart stopped as his eyes landed directly on you. It wasn’t just a fleeting glance–it lingered. His gaze traveled down to the camera in your hands, then back up to your face.

And then came that smirk again.

It was quick, if you hadn’t been looking you would hae missed it, but you saw it–the same smirk you had captured moments ago, now aimed at you. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, your breath catching again. It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the match or the chaos of the moment–it was him.

Without a word, Adam slid out of the ring, his boots hitting the ground with a thud as he walked past you. For a moment, your eyes met, and time seemed to slow. There was something unreadable in his gaze, something that sent a thrill down your spine. But just as quickly as it began, he was walking past, making his way up the ramp, Bobby and Kyle in tow.

You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the camera tighter. What the hell just happened?

Later that night, after the show had wrapped, you found yourself in the catering area, grabbing a bottle of water and trying to calm the nervous energy that still lingered from the night’s events. You had been careful not to cross paths with Adam after his match, knowing full well that his ego didn’t need any more inflation from your attention. But, of course, things never went as planned.

You were leaning against one of the tables, scrolling through your phone, when you heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, you saw him. Adam Cole, fresh from his debut, still exuding that post-show adrenaline, was walking straight toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice smooth, casual, like he hadn’t just made the entire arena go wild an hour ago. “Enjoy the show?”

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to be swayed by his charm. “It was fine,” you replied, nonchalantly, taking a sip of your water. You refused to give him the reaction he was fishing for.

Adam chuckled, leaning a little too close, clearly not buying your attempt at disinterest. “Just fine? Come on, I know you were watching me. I saw you.” His voice was teasing, but there was something more behind it–like he was testing you, pushing buttons to see how you’d react.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. “I watch everyone,” you shot back. “It’s part of my job.”

“Is that right?” he said, his smirk, growing. “Well I guess I’m just another face in the crowd then, huh?”

You shrugged, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “I guess we’ll see if you stand out.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes–a spark of challenge. He stepped a little closer, enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from his match. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear. “I always stand out, sweetheart.”

As Adam walked away, leaving you slightly flustered and very aware of the tension between you, you couldn’t help but replay the brief interaction in your head. The way his voice dropped, the confidence in his eyes–it was hard not to be affected. But you weren’t going to let yourself fall for it. 

You had worked with guys like him before. Smooth talkers, all charm and no substance. You weren’t going to be another one of Adam Cole’s conquests.

Still, as you watched him disappear around the corner, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you’d cross paths. And the thought of it both excited and terrified you.

* * * * *

A few weeks passed and you found yourself at Full Sail University on another Wednesday night. The hum of the NXT crowd echoed through the arena as you knelt at ringside, adjusting your camera lens for the next match. By now, you were used to the rhythm of show nights–capturing the high-energy moments in the ring and the candid interactions backstage. Your job was to stay in the background, unnoticed, but ever since Adam Cole’s debut, that had become increasingly difficult.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to keep things professional. But Adam had a way of finding you every time you were at work. Whether it was a casual glance across the ring during his entrance or a sly smile as you snapped a shot of him backstage, he made it clear that you were on his radar. 

And the worst part? You liked it.

You were adjusting your position to get the best angle when Adam’s entrance music hit. The crowd erupted in cheers, and you instinctively raised your camera, ready to capture the moment. Adam stepped through the curtain, all confidence and charisma, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed, predictably, on you.

There it was again–his smirk. That cocky, self-assured grin that made your pulse race no matter how much you tried to ignore it. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest as you focused the lens, trying to act like he wasn’t affecting you. But as the shutter clicked, Adam’s gaze never left yours.

He paused for just a second before strutting down the ramp, but the message was clear. This wasn’t just for the fans. It was for you.

Later, after the match, you were reviewing your photos backstage, scrolling through images of the night’s events. You had settled into a quiet corner, away from the hustle of production, when you sensed someone approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“You got my good side, right?” Adam’s voice was smooth as ever, but there was a playful edge to it that had become more frequent in recent weeks.

You glanced up, unable to stop the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I try to make everyone look good,” you replied, keeping your tone professional, though your heart was racing.

Adam raised an eyebrow and took a step closer, standing just a bit too close for comfort–not that you minded. “Yeah, but I’m not everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play off the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks. “Humble as always.”

He chuckled, the sound low and easy. “I just call it like I see it.”

You focused on your camera screen, pretending to review another photo, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction. This had become a regular occurrence–the teasing, the banter. It was like he was testing how far he could push before you’d break. And the trust was, you were starting to enjoy it more than you cared to admit.

“So,” Adam began, leaning against the wall beside you, “how many photos do you have of me on that camera?”

Your fingers froze over the buttons, and you glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t count.”

“Really?” His smirk deepened. “Because I’m pretty sure you’ve got more of me than anyone else.”

You felt a flush of embarrassment rise, but you covered it quickly, shooting him a pointed look. “That’s called doing my job. You’re just in a lot of my assigned shoots and matches lately.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced. “Or maybe you’re just really into my matches.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. You wanted to brush it off, tell him he was full of himself, but you couldn’t quite find the words. The truth was, he wasn’t wrong. You were into his matches. You were into a lot of things about Adam Cole, more than you cared to admit.

Before you could respond, Adam leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind being your favorite.”

* * * * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur of shows, travel, and photography assignments. But through it all, Adam’s presence lingered. It was like a game now–stolen glances during matches, casual run-ins backstage, moments where his hand would brush against yours as passed him in a crowded hallway. Every time, the tension between you built just a little more.

You tried to keep things professional, but Adam was relentless. His flirtations became more pointed, his comments more suggestive. Yet, there was never anything overt. He was careful, keeping it just subtle enough that you could brush it off–if you wanted to. But the truth was, you didn’t want to.

After one particularly intense show, you were backstage, capturing candid shots of the talent. Adam had just come out of a grueling match, sweat dripping from his hair, his chest heaving with exertion. You snapped a few photos, focusing on the raw intensity in his expression. When you lowered your camera, you realized he was looking directly at you.

He caught your eye and winked, making your pulse quicken.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool as you reviewed the shot. “What?” you asked, not looking up.

Adam’s grin was lazy, a little tired from the match but no less confident. “Just wondering how long you’re gonna pretend you don’t notice me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to ignore,” he corrected smoothly. Then, with a casual shrug, he added, “But you’ll give in eventually.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came. There was something in the way he said it–calm, certain like he already knew the outcome. And maybe he did. Because as much as you tried to deny it, the truth was, he was right.

* * * * *

The following week it happened again. Another run in with Adam cole himself. It was after the show. The backstage area was quieter now, the hustle of the show winding down as people filtered out. You were tucked away in a corner, the dim lighting and the hum of electronics around you lulling you into a state of unexpected calm. The energy of the night had worn you down, and before you even realized it, exhaustion took over. Your head tilted slightly against the back of the chair, camera still in hand, as your eyes fluttered shut. The faint sounds of footsteps and distant voices faded into the background.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, not here, not like this. But after hours of shooting, your body had other plans.

Adam had just finished a conversation with some of the crew when his eyes landed on you, slumped in the chair, camera still loosely gripped in your hand. His footsteps slowed as he approached, the edge of his usual cocky smirk softening as he took in the sight of you. Something about the way you looked—so peaceful, so unaware—made his usual swagger take a backseat.

He came to a stop beside you, glancing at the camera still held loosely in your fingers. A part of him wanted to laugh at how dedicated you were, even in sleep. But instead, he knelt down beside the chair, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, his voice low and quiet, not wanting to startle you. “Wake up.”

At first, you didn’t stir, lost in a world far from the chaotic environment of the backstage area. Adam’s thumb lightly grazed your wrist, his touch warm and unexpectedly gentle. You slowly blinked awake, your lashes fluttering as the blur of sleep faded, replaced by the sight of Adam crouching beside you.

His eyes met yours as a small smile tugged at his lips. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I didn’t want you to wake up and find everyone gone.”

Your heart stuttered, still disoriented from the sudden wake-up call and the fact that it was Adam Cole in front of you, his touch on your skin sending a jolt of awareness through your tired body. You blinked again, trying to gather your thoughts, as the exhaustion slowly gave way to a rush of adrenaline.

“I wasn’t… sleeping,” you mumbled, sitting up straighter, your hand instinctively tightening around your camera. Adam chuckled softly, his thumb still lightly brushing the inside of your wrist, a deliberate touch that made your pulse quicken.

“Sure you weren’t,” he teased, his voice soft, but laced with amusement. He stood up then, moving just close enough that you could smell the faint hint of his cologne. “Long day?”

You nodded, still a little dazed, trying to hide how much his presence was affecting you. “Yeah, something like that. Didn’t realize I was that tired.”

Adam leaned back against the table, his gaze never leaving yours, and the usual edge in his eyes was softer now, almost curious. “Should I be offended you fell asleep watching my match,” he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You rolled your eyes, finally shaking off the grogginess. “Oh, please. That wasn’t because of you.”

“Mm-hmm.” Adam didn’t seem convinced, his tone playful, but there was something more in his gaze—something that made the air feel heavier between you.

As the silence settled, you became acutely aware of how close he still was. The lingering warmth of his touch on your wrist felt like a brand, a reminder of the small but significant distance between you. The cocky, swaggering Adam you’d seen in the ring was still there, but it was tempered by something else—something softer, more genuine.

His eyes flickered to the camera still clutched in your hand, and he cocked his head slightly. “How did those photos from earlier tonight turn out? I look okay in them?” The question was casual, but his smirk had returned, though this time it was more playful than arrogant.

You smiled, holding the camera up. “You’ll have to wait and see.” Your voice came out steadier than you expected, despite the way his presence was setting your nerves alight.

Adam shifted closer again, leaning in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his body. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his hand lightly trailed along your arm before resting on the back of the chair. He was close now—close enough that you could smell the mix of sweat and cologne lingering from his match, the tension between you thickening with every second.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The teasing glint in his eyes hadn’t faded, but it was accompanied by something else—an intensity that made your stomach flutter. He was waiting for something, pushing you, testing the waters. You could feel the weight of the unspoken challenge between you, the lingering question of how far either of you were willing to take this.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

Adam’s smirk softened, his thumb lightly tracing a pattern on your wrist. “What do you think?” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and for the first time since you’d met him, there was a flicker of uncertainty there—just a brief moment where the confident Adam Cole wavered, as if he was waiting for you to set the tone, to give him permission to keep going.

And then, before you could respond, he gently lifted your wrist, his eyes on yours the entire time, and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a shiver down your spine, making your pulse race.

The room felt smaller, the space between you both shrinking. You weren’t sure when the playful banter had turned into this, but now that you were here—standing on the edge of something unspoken—you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

Adam’s gaze softened as he lowered your hand but didn’t let go. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere. There was something different in his tone—something careful, almost protective, as if he was testing the waters, just like you were. “If you want me to stop flirting, just tell me.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. But before you could answer, the truth hit you.

You didn’t want him to stop.

* * * * *

The next few weeks passed with the usual buzz of NXT shows, but the energy between you and Adam Cole had shifted. Where there was once harmless banter, now there were stolen moments, lingering touches, and subtle teases that made it harder to pretend you weren’t affected by him.

Tonight, as you moved around backstage capturing shots of the wrestlers preparing for their matches, you felt that familiar awareness settle over you—the one that came when you knew Adam was nearby. And, sure enough, as you rounded the corner, you found him leaning against a crate, talking with a few of the other guys.

You tried to pass unnoticed, focusing on adjusting the settings on your camera, but Adam’s voice called out to you before you could slip by.

“Hey, photographer.”

Your heart skipped, but you kept your cool, glancing up briefly with a small smile. “Hey, wrestler.”

The group chuckled at your response, but Adam’s gaze stayed locked on yours, his grin widening just a fraction. “You get my good side last week?”

“Do you even have a good side?” you shot back, unable to resist the playful jab.

Adam’s laugh was deep and genuine, and as the other guys continued their conversation, he broke away from the group and closed the distance between you. He was just close enough now that you could smell the faint hint of cologne mixed with the adrenaline of a match well-fought.

“You know, you’re getting bolder with the comebacks,” he mused, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “I like it.”

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to focus on adjusting your camera strap, pretending to be nonchalant. “You’ve got to keep up around here.”

“Oh, I’m keeping up,” Adam replied, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable. “Question is, can you keep up with me?”

You looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for the briefest moment, it was just the two of you in your own little world. There was a challenge in his eyes, one that made your stomach flip in ways you hadn’t expected.

Before you could respond, someone called Adam’s name from down the hallway, breaking the spell. He gave you a wink, as if to say the conversation wasn’t over, and turned to rejoin the group.

* * * * *

The following week, things escalated even further. You had been assigned to shoot a promo segment for Adam and his stable, Undisputed Era. It was nothing new; you’d been photographing wrestlers for months. But this time, the atmosphere was different.

As you moved around the set, capturing shots of the guys joking around and preparing for their segment, you could feel Adam’s eyes on you, tracking your every move. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And then, as you adjusted the angle for a shot, Adam caught your wrist lightly, stopping you in your tracks.

“You gonna make me look good again?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with meaning.

Your breath hitched as you turned to face him. His hand lingered on your wrist, the touch light but unmistakably intimate. You tried to play it off with a smile. “That’s my job, right?”

“Yeah, but I think you’ve got a special talent when it comes to me,” he replied, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

The contact sent a jolt of electricity up your arm, and for a second, you couldn’t find your voice. You wanted to pull away, to keep things professional, but something in the way Adam looked at you made it impossible. His gaze was steady, confident, as if he knew exactly how he was affecting you.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus. “You’re really pushing your luck.”

Adam’s grin widened, a flash of mischief in his blue eyes. “Maybe. But I think you like it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. Because the truth was, you did like it. You liked the way he pushed, the way he flirted, the way he made you feel seen. And as much as you wanted to keep pretending this was just harmless banter, you knew that things were shifting, blurring, becoming something more.

* * * * *

It was another packed NXT show, and as usual, you were positioned ringside, camera in hand, ready to capture the action. The Undisputed Era’s music blared through the arena, and the crowd erupted as Adam and his stable made their way to the ring.

As you focused your lens on Adam’s confident strut, you tried to push the thoughts of your last backstage run-in out of your mind. His touch, his teasing words, the way he watched you—it was becoming harder to separate work from whatever game he was playing. But tonight, you told yourself, you’d keep things strictly professional. No stolen glances, no lingering thoughts. Just focus on the job.

But Adam had other plans.

As he approached the ring, he caught sight of you standing by the barricade, camera raised, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. He didn’t break stride, but just before he stepped onto the apron, he turned his head ever so slightly toward you and winked. The motion was so quick, so subtle, that it almost felt like it hadn’t happened at all.

But you saw it. And so did your pulse.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off, but the way your heart raced betrayed you. Shaking off the moment, you focused on capturing the energy of the crowd, the match, anything to keep your mind off Adam.

Midway through the match, though, he struck again.

Adam had just taken down his opponent with a swift kick, the crowd roaring as he stood tall in the ring. He turned toward the ropes, scanning the crowd—and then his eyes locked onto you. Your camera was trained on him, and before you could lower it, he gave you that signature smirk, raising his hand to his lips.

In one smooth, fluid motion, Adam blew a kiss directly at you.

The crowd, caught up in the heat of the match, didn’t seem to notice the gesture, but you felt the full impact of it. Your breath hitched, and your grip tightened around the camera as you quickly lowered it, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

But Adam didn’t look away. Even as he returned to the action, the smirk never left his face.

Later that evening, long after the crowd had left and most of the roster had cleared out, you found yourself in one of the quieter backstage hallways, sorting through the day’s photos. You were still replaying the kiss in your head, trying to convince yourself it was just part of Adam’s showmanship—just a bit of harmless flirting to entertain the crowd. But deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“Did you get my good side tonight?”

Adam’s voice was smooth, laced with that familiar teasing tone. You looked up to find him leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his post-match glow still lingering. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, and there was that damn smirk again.

You forced yourself to keep your voice steady. “Depends. Which side was blowing kisses?”

Adam chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer. “You noticed, huh?”

“Hard not to when it’s directed at me in front of a few thousand people,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

He stopped just a couple of feet in front of you, hands sliding into his pockets as he tilted his head slightly, studying you. There was a shift in his demeanor—still playful, but with an undercurrent of something more intense. “Can’t say I’ve ever blown a kiss to someone ringside before.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you kept your expression neutral. “How lucky for me.”

Adam’s smile grew, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re fun, you know that?”

“I try,” you quipped, feeling the tension coil tighter between you. It was a familiar dance now—his teasing, your defenses—but each time, the stakes felt higher.

He took another step closer, just barely inside your personal space, and you could feel the heat coming off him. “Tell me something,” he said, his voice low, intimate. “How much longer are we going to pretend this is just work?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling between you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Adam’s eyes darkened slightly, his smile softening into something more serious, more real. “Come on. You feel this, too. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Your heart pounded in your ears, and for a split second, you considered denying it, brushing it off like you always did. But the look in his eyes—confident, sure, but also something deeper—made it impossible to lie.

“I—” You started, but before you could finish, another voice called out from down the hall, breaking the moment.

“Adam! We need you in the locker room, man!”

Adam sighed, clearly frustrated by the interruption. He gave you one last look—one that promised this conversation wasn’t over—before turning and jogging down the hall to join his team.

You stood there for a long moment, your heart still racing, the weight of his words pressing down on you.

* * * * *

The next few days after the gym were a blur of photoshoots, travel, and the constant buzz of the WWE schedule. You did your best to keep your interactions with Adam strictly professional, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the magnetic pull between you two.

And neither could he.

It was a quiet afternoon at the Performance Center, and you were once again stationed in the weight room, capturing shots for an upcoming social media feature. The gym wasn’t as busy as usual, with only a handful of people scattered around, working out in relative silence.

You moved between the machines, camera in hand, focused on getting candid shots of the wrestlers. You were so absorbed in your work that you didn’t notice Adam approaching until he was right behind you.

“Miss me?”

His voice was a low murmur, and the familiar warmth of his presence sent a shiver down your spine. You straightened, turning to find him standing impossibly close—close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin. His signature smirk was in place, but there was something different in his eyes today. Something darker, more intense.

“I didn’t realize you were gone,” you quipped, but your voice lacked its usual sharpness. You had noticed he was gone. It had been over a week since you had seen him as he was put on the schedule to go on the road the last few weeks while you were back in Orlando doing other work.

Adam chuckled, stepping even closer until there was barely a breath of space between you. His hand came up, brushing against your arm—light at first, but then lingering, his fingers trailing down toward your wrist. The touch was casual, but the effect it had on you was anything but.

You felt your breath catch, your pulse quickening, and you could tell by the way Adam’s smirk widened that he noticed.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping to that low, almost predatory tone that never failed to send your heart racing. His fingers continued their slow, deliberate path along your arm, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of your wrist.

You tried to keep your composure, but the way he was looking at you, the way his touch seemed to burn through your skin, was making it difficult to think straight. You took a step back, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you, but Adam didn’t let you off the hook that easily.

He followed, closing the gap in an instant, his hand now resting on your waist—bold, confident, and unmistakably intimate.

“I think you’re starting to like this,” Adam murmured, his lips just inches from your ear. “The way you react every time I touch you. You can deny it all you want, but I know you feel it too.”

You wanted to fire back with a quick retort, to brush off his words like you always did, but for the first time, you found yourself at a loss for words. The truth was, he wasn’t wrong. You did feel it—the tension, the attraction, the pull that seemed to grow stronger with every interaction.

And the worst part was, Adam knew it too.

He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “Tell me something. How much longer are we going to pretend this is just teasing?”

Your heart was pounding now, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Adam’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on your waist, his other hand coming up to cup the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over the pulse point that was beating wildly beneath his touch. “I think you do.”

You swallowed hard, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to lean into him. Before you could decide, someone walked into the gym, and you quickly stepped back, breaking the moment.

But the look Adam gave you as you moved away—the dark, heated gaze that promised this wasn’t over—lingered long after he left.

* * * * *

The next interaction came unexpectedly, in the parking lot outside the Performance Center.

You had finished up a late shoot and were heading toward your car when you spotted Adam leaning casually against his own vehicle, his phone in hand. As if sensing your presence, he glanced up, and that familiar smirk curled at his lips.

“Need an escort to your car?” he called out, pushing himself off the hood of his car and sauntering over to you.

“I think I can manage,” you replied, though there was no mistaking the hitch in your voice. Every time you were around him now, it was harder and harder to keep things professional. The way he looked at you, the way he moved—everything about Adam screamed confidence and control, and it was messing with your head.

He fell into step beside you anyway, his hands sliding into his pockets as he cast a sidelong glance your way. “You sure? I’d hate for something to happen to you out here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips. “I think the scariest thing out here is you.”

Adam laughed softly, but there was something behind it—something that hinted at the fact he was very aware of the effect he was having on you. “Come on,” he said, stopping just as you reached your car. “Am I really that intimidating?”

His tone was teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but. There was that intensity again, the same look he’d given you in the gym, and it was making your heart race all over again.

You leaned against the door of your car, arms crossed over your chest, trying to put up some kind of barrier between you and him. “Not intimidating. Just… persistent.”

Adam’s smirk widened, and he took a step closer, his hand coming up to rest on the roof of your car, effectively trapping you between him and the vehicle. “Is that a bad thing?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the proximity making it impossible to think straight. “Depends on what you’re after.”

Adam’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, you could feel the weight of his gaze—heavy, heated, and full of unspoken promises. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m after.”

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, his lips just inches from yours. The tension between you crackled in the air, and for the first time, you couldn’t bring yourself to step away.

But just as Adam leaned in, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment.

With a soft curse under his breath, he pulled back slightly, glancing at the screen. His jaw tightened, and he sighed, clearly annoyed by the interruption. “I’ve gotta take this.”

You nodded, your heart still pounding in your chest as you fumbled for your keys, grateful for the reprieve but also painfully aware of how close you’d come to crossing that line.

As Adam turned to walk away, he threw one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto yours with a look that said this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

[kuzann]

Vlad is stuck at home, Danny learns about the Key of Memory, Jack has a nightmare, and Valerie makes up her mind. FINALLY got this chapter done. It became really easy to write after I focused intensely on a completely different story for a month lol. Maybe keeping multiple AUs active at once really is the way to go for my creative process.

Excerpt:

Valerie didn’t draw attention to the fact that Danny, Sam, and Tucker had disappeared around half an hour ago and had yet to reappear. The most obvious explanation was that there was some sort of ghost issue going on that the three were dealing with.

She wanted to help him too. But would he keep trusting her if he knew she’d figured things out? Would their past and her continued association with Vlad get in the way of their friendship going forward? It was an association of convenience at best, but things were sour enough between Vlad and Danny that it might not matter...

The two families dispersed around mid-afternoon, with the kids promising to meet up again later for fireworks watching atop the Ops Center when night fell.

Valerie passed the hours before then with exercise, a bit of reading, and catching up on chores she still had to do. The Fourth of July had never been particularly special to her unless they were going to the parade or some other big event. It felt like any other day, save for the promise of fireworks later.

She was taking a trash bag out to the can just before sunset when she noticed something odd from the corner of her eye. Valerie froze, her breath catching in her throat, and turned her head to look.

The stag creature lay in the shadows under the fence halfway between their house and the back of their yard, only partially visible in the weakening light. Its head was down and its eyes closed, its entire body slack with exhaustion.

Valerie slowly resumed her walk to the trash cans, keeping her eyes on the stag all the while. She lowered the bag in, careful to keep her movements slow and measured, then returned to where it lay.

The stag stirred as she came closer. Its golden eyes were dull, and its movement sluggish as it lifted its head and gave her an imploring look.

She wasn’t sure what to do. It was only hostile when attacked for the most part, she knew that, but animals could get panicky when they were injured. The last thing she wanted was to catch a tine if it decided to take a swing at her.

Still… The way it looked at her… Was it really ‘just’ an animal?

Valerie crept a little closer. “Can you understand me?” she asked, balanced on the balls of her feet in case he started thrashing.

The stag nodded. He was trembling now, though from fear or fever she couldn’t tell—the wound in his haunch was still oozing blood even now.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Valerie said. She lifted a hesitant hand, but stopped short of reaching out to him. “I noticed that you aren’t trying to pick fights…” The bout with Plasmius came to mind, but that she could excuse by Vlad having somehow started a fight with the stag first. “For the most part,” she added. “Can I help you go home? You just need to get to the Ghost Zone, right?”

The stag shook his head.

Valerie blinked with surprise. “But you’re a ghost, aren’t you?”

Again the stag shook his head.

“So… What are you, then?”

The stag’s ears drooped as he gave her a look of utter misery.

“Right, I guess you can’t talk…” Valerie stepped closer and got a good look at the wound on the stag’s haunch. It looked deep, and given her sheer lack when it came to veterinary knowledge she had no idea how to treat it. “Would you like some food and water maybe? Would that help?”

The stag’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

“Okay, just lay low out here for a bit.” Valerie returned to her house at a fast walk, still wary of startling the stag if she moved too quickly. She took their largest plastic platter down from a cupboard and stood frozen in the kitchen for a few moments. What were deer supposed to eat? Plants, obviously, but other than that she had no idea given that her interaction with normal deer was very limited, having lived in the city her whole life. Lettuce would probably be a safe bet at the very least.

There was a tub of assorted greens in the veggie drawer. Given how bad she and her dad were at eating them before they spoiled they wouldn’t be sorely missed. Valerie put the tub on the platter, then added a few carrots and a cucumber for good measure.

It didn’t seem like enough, given the size of the stag. Valerie added some zucchinis and a few apples as well.

Next Valerie found a suitably large bowl and filled a few bottles with water to pour into it. She paused at the back door. The stag was dirty and haggard, going gray with dust when she’d gotten close enough to notice. He would be more comfortable if she could clean him up a bit…

Valerie left the food and water by the door and dashed up the stairs to get one of her old hair brushes; she wouldn’t feel guilty if this task finally did it in, given that she’d only kept it as a spare after getting a new one.

On her way back down she grabbed a few big garage towels as well, and with all she could think of gathered together she went back outside into the fading afternoon.

The stag lay exactly where she’d left him, again lifting his head as she drew near. His ears perked up at seeing the food.

Valerie set the water and food out for him, upending the tub of salad greens onto the platter with the other food she’d chosen, then left the stag to eat and knelt down by his neck. She gently ran the brush across the stag’s mane, ducking when he lifted his head to regard her again.

She could feel the gratitude in his eyes, the misery of his situation making her heart ache. The stag gently nuzzled her cheek in thanks—as wary of startling her as she was of doing the same—and returned his attention to the food.

A calm silence fell over them, filled with the rasp of the brush, the sigh of the breeze, the rumble of the occasional passing car, and the crunch of the stag munching away on his meal. 

Valerie let her mind wander, and it promptly found thoughts of Danny yet again. She had to tell him, had to make sure he knew that she was on his side. They would be able to coordinate against any of Vlad’s schemes much more easily that way, and ghost hunting in general would be safer for both of them if they teamed up. Things had gotten better lately, and they could get even better if she summoned up the courage. But something told her that Sam and Tucker still wouldn’t like it—

An early firework went off a ways down the street, startling both of them. She and the stag shared a slow glance, then she relaxed.

“That was just a firework,” Valerie said, giving the stag a reassuring pat on the forehead. “There’s gonna be a lot more where that came from, so be ready.”

[chrissyfied]

[SILENT] The receiver's kiss renders the sender momentarily speechless. (oops? lol)

* "Shut Up" kiss starters.

It could be a bit embarrassing at times to admit she had ever only been with one person romantically. All of high school, it felt like it was always going to be Jason Carver for her, and vice versa. So, to think of moving on and be vulnerable with her heart that she all but continued to wear on her sleeve… well, it was frightening. Of course, it didn’t have to be that deep, but for Chrissy? She couldn’t deny that her feelings for Eddie were always on the cusp of something greater than that of a crush.

She remembered what it felt like with him in the Spring of ‘86 at that picnic table in the woods behind the school. The way she hadn’t felt quite as freeing, or much like herself. Then it happened again, that same year, right after graduation and summer brought on changes towards new beginnings. He became her friend, but there was also a spark between them which continued to strengthen. Still, the fear of possibly ruining a great friendship because she let her heart take control rather than her senses.

Did she want the summer to end without ever telling him how she felt? No. Scared as she might be, bravery had its way of taking her hand and leading the way. After his band practice at the Hideout, that’s what she planned on doing. It was a messy plan, and one could laugh at how feelings tended to make a mess of things, because when and how to bring it up was something she was still trying to work on. Was it even a good time? Would there ever be a good time? She really needed her mind to sort it out, and sort it out it did.

Only, she didn’t follow through with the plan to talk. She honestly didn’t say a word, feeling the knots in her stomach and knowing her tongue would be completely tied and fumble it all out, she went with the moment. As soon as he opened the passenger side door for her, and asked if she was ready, she simply shook her head. The last expression he would see of hers was something of determination, one he would be familiar with from their learning sessions over D&D. To her, it felt like it all went slowly as she stepped into his personal space. With a gentle grip of his open jacket with her small hands, she stood full on tip toes and leaned up to press her lips carefully against his.

It was enough to even catch her breath, because as slow as the moment was, she hadn’t expected to allow herself to really kiss him. The momentary bravery making sure she didn’t shy away on parting until her lips got the message across to his. A build up of her lips moving against his until they both needed to catch their breath. Even then, she was gentle to pull back, while her heart was beating so fast it was starting to hurt. Mostly a rush, but the aftermath remained a mystery.

He was silent. Uncharacteristically so. She had to wonder if maybe she kept her eyes closed for too long before they fluttered back open to get a better reading on what he could be thinking about at that moment. The butterflies in her stomach then were driving her crazy because what if, he was quiet because he didn’t feel the same way and he was trying to figure out on how to break it to her?

@outsidermunson

[sibillascribbles08]

Okay! Finally got this done (focused on a lot of other things but I did not forget). This is the 9th prompt that @sehfi asked for (it is not letting me @ you love tumblr it's great)

Promise I'm still workin on these y'all just a bit slow going alskdjf

anyway have more dads

Raising an infant who was still relatively half turtle, maybe just a little less—approximately 43.7% according to Donnie—made it very different from raising a typical baby. Any advice they got was usually from Splinter, who raised four of these kids once, and anything Splinter couldn’t answer, Jason and Donnie would put their heads together to figure it out. 

For example, as Splinter warned them early on, the turtle gene kinda destroys the whole immobile to crawling to walking phases. Holly could crawl pretty much a day after she was born, and she got proficient at it. Jason sometimes felt bad that her “room” at present was a giant decked out tank. But given her size at the time—she fit in his palm for crying out loud—it became a necessity. Heaven knew where she’d end up if they let her wander free. 

But when she got bigger—at least big enough that Jason held her with two hands—she was allowed to scurry about the apartment with minimal supervision. And scurry she did. Any room that wasn’t closed was immediately explored. She crawled under furniture, into crevices, up a few shelves, and somehow onto the kitchen counter once. 

Jason asked Splinter if his boys ever did this. Despite the fur on his face, it was easy to imagine him sweating when he said yes. Just imagine keeping up with four of them in a sewer of all places. He assumes it's why his hair went grey so fast. 

And if she could get around like this on all fours, well, Jason dreaded what would happen when she figured out the whole bipedal thing and her hands were much more free. 

At a year and a half, Holly figured that out. Longer than usual for most babies but considering she could navigate so well on four legs, the transition to two wasn’t nearly as pressing. Evidently the motivator was trying to climb up to the table to get to the freshly fried shrimp Donnie or Jason would leave on the table. 

And, like Jason suspected, the trouble only increased.

If only he bothered to realize that her scampering around on two legs wasn’t the only concern when it came to her getting bigger. 

“Get back here!” Jason shouted after his daughter. 

Donnie laughed and encouraged Holly to run off with the big bag of fruit snacks. Damn his husband for not helping. The last thing they needed was her ripping into that package and eating herself sick, because that is something she did on the regular. And Jason would clean up the puke nine times out of ten because Donnie would get way to squeamish with it. 

Also those were his fruit snacks. 

Holly giggled as she took off down the apartment hallway toward her room, the bag crinkling as she went. Jason began to catch up, only for an arm to catch him by the stomach.

“Donnie!” He immediately snapped and tried to thrash out of the turtle’s grip. “Let go.”

“No way, she deserves a head start.”

“She is going to eat those and get sick.”

“Relax.” Donnie pulled him closer. “Let her have some fun.” 

Jason didn’t stop trying to wiggle free. “You’re going to say that until she steals your snacks. Now let go.” 

Donnie lightly shook him back and forth, teasing. 

“Quit it.” Jason snapped. “Quit it or I’ll bite.”

“How do you know I won’t be into that?”

“I know for a fact you are not into that, Donnie.” 

Jason felt the breath on the back of his neck before Donnie’s sharp teeth gently brushed over the skin. “Bite me and I’ll bite you.” 

Jason quit struggling but turned his head to glare. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

Donnie shrugged. “If you insist.” He sat on the floor, arm still tightly wrapped around Jase’s middle. 

Jason didn’t get a warning besides that when he felt Donnie nip at his ear. He jumped and fought to hold back his laugh. “Hey. Knock it off.” 

“Nah.” He bit his earlobe next, then trailed down his neck. They were all gentle, only enough to tickle, and that was possibly the worst part about it.

“Donnie!” Jason squeaked and tried to tug away. “You’re making me ticklish.” 

“A successful distraction.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jason managed to say despite another nip to his shoulder. He saw Holly leaning out of the door to her room. The fruit snacks were gone, but it was doubtful she’d eaten them. Perhaps she couldn’t open the bag. Or maybe Jason’s laughter caught her attention. Anytime she saw her dads having fun she just had to join in somehow. 

Donnie blew a raspberry against the back of Jason’s neck. He burst out laughing again. 

Holly scurried over—on all fours this time—her eyes wide and curious. 

“Ah, the criminal returns.” Jason held out a hand for her. “Where did your spoils go, ma’am?” 

Holly took his hand. Her four little fingers held onto his. She stared at it, then at her dads, then at his hand again. 

Then she giggled, opened her mouth wide, and bit him. 

The pain hit, hard, but thankfully it was still dulled enough by shock that Jason didn’t rip his hand away, which would have made everything worse. He just stared at his daughter, who still had her mouth on the part where his thumb meets his palm. 

“Uh,” Donnie said. “Is that—”

Jason saw the drop of red start to slide down his skin. Holly stared at him, clearly confused. Then her face twisted in disgust and she pulled back, smacking her now red lips. 

Oh, that was a lot of blood.

“Okay!” Donnie immediately scooped Jason up and carried him into the kitchen. Jason held his hand under the sink for a moment, letting water run over the injury and oh that made it sting twice as bad. As soon as he pulled it back Donnie pressed a spare dish towel over the injury. 

“Sit. Sit.” Donnie gave the demand before he simply picked Jason up again and plopped him into the kitchen chair. “I’m calling Leo.” 

“Donnie, I doubt it’s so bad—”

“Calling Leo.” He announced and walked out of the room. 

Jason pouted, but kept pressure on the injury. He heard Donnie speaking on the phone, and then Holly’s concerned whines. After a few minutes, his husband returned and carefully sat her on the counter as he worked on cleaning out her mouth. Holly protested at first, a few sharp whines and even a scream, but eventually relented. 

It was during this that Jason actually realized just how big her teeth had gotten. Not something you think about with how fast kids grow. 

Leo flashed into the apartment with a portal, a med kit tucked under his arm. 

“Man, where is it this time?” The slider already cracked a few jokes as he approached the table. “Is your daughter going to give you a scar to match the one Donnie gave you?”

“Not funny, Nardo.” Donnie snapped and picked Holly up. She clearly wanted down, waving her arms and reaching towards the floor and then towards Jase, but he didn’t loosen his grip. 

“Sorry, I’m going to make fun of that until we all die.” Leo kept grinning as he rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s see the damage.” 

Jason let Leo work, keeping his eyes on his daughter rather than the injury in question. He didn’t really want to know how deep it was. Seeing stuff like that would still remind him of that nasty injury he got on his leg years ago. Despite how much time had passed, anything that made him think he was back in that storage room made his breathing halt. 

“Thankfully not bad enough for stitches, but you’re gonna wanna keep this clean and avoid moving your hand too much or you’ll reopen it. Hope you don’t mind some tight bandages.” Leo said before stretching out some medical tape and getting to work. 

With everything properly wrapped up, Leo stowed his supplies away and stood. “There, let me know if anything weird happens with it. As for you.” He turned toward his niece and tapped her on the nose. “Watch your chompers.”

Her answer to that bit of advice was to open her mouth and try to nip at Leo’s finger.

“Hah, apparently not.” The slider kept smiling. “Cya Tuesday Donnie.” 

“Yeah, thanks Nardo.” Donnie called after his twin as he vanished through another portal.

Jason sighed and stood. He walked over to Holly and reached out for her, but she opened her mouth again and he retreated.

She really didn’t like that, her whine shifting into tears and a wail.

“Whoa, whoa.” Donnie shifted his grip so she was laying in the crook of his elbow instead. “What’s wrong?” 

Jason frowned as he watched her. He reached out again and the tears slowed, but once again when his hand got close enough she opened her mouth. He didn’t let go, but he moved his hand away, and once again she got frustrated.

“Wait,” Jason said. “She probably thinks it’s a game.”

Donnie blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You were playfully biting me and we were laughing. She probably thinks it’s a game but she doesn’t realize how hard she’s biting.”

“Oooooh.” Donnie carefully lifted her up so she was at eye level. “Holly. No no on the biting.” He snapped his teeth again. “Yes yes with this.” He gently smooched her head. 

Holly still didn’t completely get no and yes sometimes. She knew what the words meant, of course, but sometimes it was harder to explain specifically what about her actions were a no-no. 

Thankfully even at this age she was pretty good at mirroring, so sometimes it was just a matter of repeating a behavior until it stuck. In fact, Donnie repeated himself a few times, showing the actions again. Then he shifted her around so she faced Jason.

He reached out for his daughter again. He let her take his hand. But this time instead of opening her mouth she instead pressed the bottom half of her face against it. She didn’t exactly give him a kiss. More like she just pressed her lips together and blew out some air. 

Jason snorted, then laughed. 

Her face lit up and she repeated the motion a few times.

“Okay, okay.” He took her in her arms. “Don’t do that too much. It’s so cute I might throw up.” 

“No, no, keep going.” Donnie pulled out his phone. “I need a video.” 

Holly giggled, still repeating the motion over and over again. Who knew how long it would take for her to get tired for it. 

Oh well, he could tolerate it. Her delight made the lingering pain in his hand more than worth it.

[ali-annals]

there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Pairing: Daminette (background Adrijon)

Rating: G

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Many thanks to the wonderful @sarcasticbambi for betaing this!

Inspired by Say My Name on Ao3 (Drarry), for Ella

Summary:

Marinette can only be roused from her daydreams by one word: Damian.

Damian will only respond to one word: Marinette.

They're so cute, right? Well, there's one problem… They secretly think the other dislikes them, being rivals and all.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mari, could you pass me those cookies?”

No answer.

Alya huffed. “Marinette, are you even listening?”

Mari hummed vaguely in acknowledgement.

“...so anyways, Adrien was covered in purple goo and then he turned into a cat, can you believe it? I had to chase him all the way to the moon to hold him still so Merlin could dunk him in a vat of dye and reverse it,” Alya rattled off gibberish, testing her friend.

“Oh, really?”

Marinette’s chin stayed propped on her hand as she gazed across the lunch room.

Alya followed her gaze, already knowing what she’d see.

Sure enough, Damian Wayne was scowling at his ball-of-sunshine best friend, who was laughing loudly at some joke– likely at Damian’s expense.

“What do you even see in him, girl?”

“Hm?”

“Damian!”

Marinette looked at Alya, suddenly focused. “What about him?”

Groaning, Alya rolled her eyes. “You are so obsessed with him.”

“Am not!”

“Oh, really? Then why were you staring at him all lunch?”

“I was trying to figure out what is going on in his spiky little head that makes him think he can lord it over me that he got two more points on our assignments,” Marinette sniffed.

“Sure you were.”

~~~

“Mari, you have to get up now,” Tikki squeaked, glancing between the clock and her still slumbering wielder.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, what is the meaning of this?!” she cried.

A soft snore escaped Marinette’s mouth.

“Is that Damian Wayne jogging?”

At Tikki’s last-ditch effort, Marinette sprung up and faceplanted into the windowsill, barely catching herself. “Where?”

Tikki snickered to herself. “Guess he’s a fast runner.”

Marinette glared suspiciously at her kwami.

~~~

“Marinette, look out!”

With a grunt, Mari stepped back, rubbing her head from the impact of walking into the locker door.

Adrien sighed and hurried up to his friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“Do you need glasses, Dupain-Cheng?” Damian Wayne asked snootily. “Maybe they’d help you see better in class and you could actually be a challenger for top spot–which I’d still win, of course.”

Marinette glared up at him. “You’re unabashedly rude. Even the most half-decent person would ask if someone was okay instead of belittling them.”

Damian’s lip curled and he took a step back before performing an elegant bow. “My most humble apologies, Lady. Are you grievously injured? Perhaps I should escort you to seek medical aid?”

Marinette’s cheeks burned. “If you’re just going to mock me, you can take your faux courtesy and stick it up-”

“Okay, Mari, maybe we should head to class before we’re late,” Adrien gently laid his hands on her shoulders and steered her towards the classroom.

Damian frowned at them and headed off in the opposite direction with a sniff.

~~~

“Damian.” Jon poked his friend’s shoulder.

Damian batted his hand away half-heartedly, staring ahead at…Jon squinted. From Damian’s point of view all he could see was the board, the teacher, and…ah. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Damian, you have to leave early for that interview, right?”

“Yes.”

“Sad to leave Mari behind?”

Damian turned to him. “Since when do you call her ‘Mari’?”

Jon stifled a smile. “Since I befriended her best friend and became her friend by association. Alya is really quite helpful– I even got Mari’s number!”

Damian’s glare could have rivalled Jon’s laservision. 

“Mr. Wayne!”

Damian frowned at Jon not getting called out but turned back to the teacher. “I have to leave early. I believe my father has already cleared it with the school.”

“Yes, yes, go on.” The teacher waved him away wearily and he grabbed his bag and headed down the aisle of desks.

His steps stuttered at the front, by Marinette’s desk, then resumed his usual long stride.

Heh. Stage 1 completed. Jon subtly air-fistbumped Alya.

~~~

“Dames, you’re staring again.”

“Stop calling me Dames,” Damian mumbled, not taking his eyes off the cheerful table across the cafeteria.

Marinette was in the centre, telling a story that made everyone around her laugh.

Jon heard a quiet growl escape his friend when he saw Adrien laugh so hard he collapsed into Mari.

“Bro, they’re just friends.”

Damian glared at him, then turned back to his Marinette-watching.

“Tt. I don’t care if they’re friends or not.”

“Suuure,” Jon rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone to text his new other bestie.

Jon: We should consider playing more on the jealousy angle

Alya: ?

Jon: Damian is fuming at Mari and A’s closeness

Alya added Adrien Agreste to the chat

Adrien: Hiiiii

Adrien: What’s this for

Alya: We’re setting up Mari and Damian

Adrien: :0

Alya changed the chat name to Daminette Matchmakers

Jon changed the chat name to DM

Alya: ? Jon: Damian is a snoop, he might see the name sometime

Adrien: Good point, so is Mari

Adrien: Love the shipname btw

Alya: Thanks😌

“Who are you texting?” Damian asked, still not taking his eyes off Mari.

“My new friend, of course.”

Jon: @ Adrien we’re thinking the jealousy angle is a good start. Damian does NOT like you touching Mari lol

Adrien: Oh I can do this no problem😈

Jon watched in fascination as Adrien shuffled closer to Mari, holding out his phone to either show her a meme or take a selfie, he couldn’t tell which.

Their cheeks squished together, both smiling brightly, and Jon observed Damian’s knuckles tightening around the seat, smirking to himself.

Jon: D’s getting pretty mad.

Jon: I bet two days max before he makes a move

Alya: I bet thirty-six hours

Jon: Bet?

Alya: Bet. Tell me one of your mom’s news ‘secrets’

Jon: Help me with another project like this sometime

Alya: Deal.

Jon: Jondrien

Alya: Adrijon

Alya: Let me make the shipnames loverboi

Jon deleted a message

Alya deleted a message

Adrien: Secrets?🥺

Alya: You’ll find out soon enough Sunshine

~~~

The next day, Damian and Jon were back in their usual spot, watching Marinette and her friend group as usual, who were seated at their usual table.

Unusually, Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Jon’s super hearing picked up Adrien’s footsteps before he entered the caf, and he immediately looked at his friend to get a front-row seat to his reaction.

Damian’s features loosened in shock as Adrien walked in carrying a large bouquet of flowers, then tightened in anger as he made a beeline for Marinette.

She looked up from her conversation in surprise, a smile lighting up her face when Adrien handed them to her.

With a snarl, Damian stormed over to the table.

“Dupain-Cheng.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow at his appearance.

“You can’t go out with Agreste.”

“Why not?” she tilted her chin challengingly.

“Because Kent wants to go out with him. Go out with me instead.”

Jon rushed over as fast as he dared. “What are you doing?” he hissed at Damian.

Marinette sniffed. “You’re lucky I like Jon. Fine, I’ll date you instead of Adrien.” She turned to Adrien. “Good luck!”

Adrien gaped at her in betrayal, turning to Alya in bewilderment. 

She smirked. “Mari ships Adrijon, what can I say?”

[ghostsknewmynights]

For awhile, Heroes and civilians alike (Villains didn’t particularly care since as he didn’t get in their way) thought the villain ‘Risk’ had ‘reflection’, the ability to, you guessed it, reflect attacks after they’d hit.

Though it was similar, it wasn’t right. They figured that out, unfortunately, catching inconsistencies with every new fight—if he was hit by, say, a punch (which were surprisingly common in a super-powered world), he would stumble back normally. If he were hit by a fire blast, often belonging to the hero Ignite, he would be burned and turn-tail.

But when Eight shot blue energy at him through his signature staff? It would turn-tail, changing direction to hit it’s user (Risk seemed to have it out for Eight, for whatever reason—he’s almost never been hit by one of the man’s attacks, taking extra care to dodge and throw back).

When a sound wave from Dream, the no.1 villain who saw him as a nuisance (which he took great pride in), didn’t move fast enough, it twisted without a pause, often hitting the man back. This was a slightly better outcome, for the heroes—if Dream had a ‘rival’, which is what the media called it for simplicity, he’d be occupied, giving the heroes more time to prepare.

But even then, their efforts weren’t enough. Even distracted, Dream worked quickly, and with Risk in the mix, it was getting harder and harder to hold their ground.

Dream, you see, was objectively superior to most all heroes power-wise. He was one of the rare few to be born with three powers—Weaponised sound, wingless-flight, and enhanced speed. He could move swiftly and without care for gravity, allowing him to dodge with ease: sound-waves were forceful and you never knew where they’d come from (the chatter of civilians, the sound of attacks colliding, your own voice. Silence was highly recommended), making for strong attacks.

He could only be defeated by The Blade, the no.1 hero, who had superhuman strength, reflexes, and stamina. But even then, if Dream left the ground, it was over. The strength let him jump higher, yes, but he couldn’t stay higher.

So in short, Dream was powerful. And fast. And above every hero even if they loathed to admit it.

So with another villain on the streets who could very possibly rival and weaponise that power? They’d be screwed. Absolutely screwed.

So patrols went up. They needed to catch one—most likely Risk—before the two teamed up (though that didn’t seem likely, it was possible). Heroes patrolled more often, working to the point of exhaustion. Dream seemed to be playing it safe and, despite his cockiness, laying low.

Risk was doing the same, somewhat. He showed up every so often, narrowly evading capture and leaving damage in his wake, but otherwise wasn’t sighted.

And, thanks to the fatigue and need for more assets, nobody seemed to notice when two people—both blonde with opposite colour schemes, coincidentally listed as powerless—were hired at hero-tower. And worse, nobody noticed the signature lime of a villain or the vibrant red of a reflector creeping into the supposed haven.

And when they do?

Well, it’ll be far too late by then. Maybe it already is: they’re armed with information and files, a begrudging alliance, and the realisation they’re a dynamic duo when they tolerate the other.

So, safe to say, hero-society, or at least the tower, is screwed.

—

Sorry if this got confusing in any way. This was originally meant to be another prompt (Tommy with reflection powers) but it got out of hand and somehow became a full AU.

To clear things up, Risk is Tommy, a notorious villain with a a type of telekinesis that lets him control powers. Though not mentioned, he can also manipulate his own energy (being red, which morphs and solidifies at will).

Eight is Wilbur, who uses the same (condensed energy but blue, which burns more than solidifies and often harms the user (hence the staff)). The Blade is Techno, ofc, who has superhuman strength, speed, stamina and reflexes.

Dream is, well, Dream, who weaponises sound waves, can fly, and walks fast (a deadly combo, I know /j). Ignite, though only mentioned in one line, is Sapnap, able to generate fire with his hands and withstand both hot and cold temperatures.

[clerkmillie]

Amelia "Millie" Lewis

She/her/hers died at 24. currently 104. Vampire. Town Clerk. Resident of Lunar Cove 10 years. Member of the vampire clan.

She does nothing worthy of remark She figured it out.

Backstory: (triggers: death, mentions of blood, painful death)

Being immortal can sometimes be a very strange thing.

Our story starts a hundred and four years ago. A baby left in an orphanage, parents lost to the War to End All Wars and Influenza. Adopted, still small, to a couple that took good care of her. But with one strange thing about them. Although little Amelia grew, her parents did not. Eventually, when she was old enough to keep a secret, they told her why.

She was a human daughter to a pair of lonely vampires, ones who just wanted to fit in.

 it was abnormal, of course, for vampires to behave that way, but they were an odd couple. They didn’t follow vampiric customs so much, just wanted to mind their business and live normally.

Being Immortal can be fun, for a while.

They moved often, so as to fend off questions about the changing gap between parent and child, but they were happy. Amelia had a lovely childhood, even if she missed out on the ability to tease her parents for their gray hairs, seeing as they never grew any. Life was good, life was safe. Hell, in the course of her lifetime, Blood banks had become common, and intercepting blood in transit transit was easier (and kinder) than having to hunt. Fangs retracted, always.

She grew older and her parents became her “siblings”, She matched their height, and they became her “friends”. She matched their age and she made a life altering choice, although it had been one she’d seen coming for a long time. At the age of 23, when she was old enough to ask and be humored, her mother-sister-friend became her sire, and the trio were bound forever in yet another way.

Being Immortal can assure a lot, but never full safety.

Fifty years ago, on the move, they took a wrong turn in their car and got jumped by a local werewolf. It wasn’t even a fight, just some bites and grazes from a young werewolf who was a bit too trigger happy and protective of his home when he smelled them. They apologized to each other, went their separate ways, and the vampires arrived home in under an hour.

But remember… bites.

The next week was hell, hunger and hallucinations abounding in their household. Amelia hadn’t been bitten, but while she was trying to help the others… her sire being hurt this badly left her hurting too. “Who hasn’t been bitten before? Live long enough, omegas will bite you sometimes.” They hadn’t seemed too worried, sent Amelia to her own room. but considering they’d had the misfortune of being bitten by a beta… when she woke the next day, the bond pain hurt so badly, she couldn’t even move to be in the same room with her family as they passed. Couldn’t move from her curled up ball for days. That wasn’t normal.

Being immortal can be very, very lonely.

It was lonely. So lonely. She kept moving, kept trying to fit in, but she didn’t have any constants, any friends in her life. She went forty years, moving every five, without even catching sight of another immortal being. Days felt like minutes, months felt like hours, humans aged so fast. It was lonely. So lonely. She started changing her name slightly, just to test things out. Ames to Amy to Mildew and back. She changed her hair. She made mortal friends in one place, kept to herself the next. Just drifting, just filling time until- well, maybe until forever. She went fifty years without even locking eyes with someone who had her lifespan. And that was devastating.

But being Immortal doesn’t have to be. Not in Lunar Cove.

There was a place with people like her. Immortals, inhumans. A little town. She could go there, she could fit in, it was possible. So she made her way there, introducing herself as Millie, this time. As soon as she showed up, she registered with the vampire council and started working odd jobs. Bookkeeping, data entry, handling tasks. She liked it.  All she and her family had ever wanted, as long as she could remember, was to fit in. And here, she did. Vampire and all. She’d never have to leave this safe, secluded town.

She’d lived there for eight years, befriending locals and becoming a staple in the community, when she was hired by Meena Raja-Moore. She’d never worked as a door to door poll-gatherer before, but by this point she knew just about everyone. Asking about their thoughts about the election campaign wasn’t hard. They opened the door for her. And she was good at making graphs and charts by this point, so that part of the job wasn’t hard either. She was proud to be on the election team of someone making a good difference, and prouder when they won.

And then she got promoted to clerk, a job she’s honored to hold. She takes work seriously, takes her community seriously, and takes her duty seriously. She takes good records, she’s dutiful and quiet in meetings. Maybe to a point where people forget about her sometimes, but she knows her job is vital. And nothing proved that more than when she, with her records, connected the dots. Theodore Moore was alive. She had to tell Meena, of course. She had to tell the council! So she did, as soon as she was sure. As soon as she’d triple checked everything.

And now everyone knows she did it, she figured it out. That’s quite a spotlight. And honestly, she never considered herself one for standing in spotlights…

Being Immortal is many things, but it never seems to get boring.

[whump-me]

Protector: Chapter 13

Chapter 13 of Protector, a novella-length whump story about a ruthless superpowered assassin trained from childhood to kill, and the brother determined to save him from himself.

Masterpost | the Mind Games universe | Read the complete novel on Patreon

---

The first time Loren saw Zach, it was their first mission together, and Zach was a speck five stories down. Loren could make out every individual strand of his hair, every remaining crease on the shirt he must have hastily crumpled into his suitcase. But he couldn’t see the man’s face. Zach was facing away from him, and even with his Enhanced vision, he couldn’t see through someone’s skull.

And he didn’t want to. That first glimpse was enough to make up his mind for him: he didn’t like the man. He already regretted saying yes to this assignment. Afterward, he planned to go to his handler and request to not be paired with this man again.

He didn’t understand, in that moment, where that instinctive revulsion came from. He thought maybe it was because of what he knew about the man’s Enhanced ability. If Zach could move as fast as his file suggested, how would Loren avoid hitting him with a stray bullet? What if he ran into the line of fire too quickly for even Loren’s eyes to catch?

He watched through his scope as Zach closed in on the target. Zach wasn’t using his speed yet, but Loren was tense, waiting for the man to turn into a blur that even his vision couldn’t follow.

He was so focused on Zach that he almost didn’t notice the two men closing in on Zach from behind.

Zach clearly didn’t see them either. He didn’t alter his pace, and he kept his eyes fixed on the target ahead. His obliviousness filled Loren with irritation, even though that was what he was here for: to see the things Zach couldn’t.

Loren took the two men out quickly and easily: one shot each, to the back of the head. His aim was flawless. They dropped without a sound.

Zach stopped, but only for a second. He didn’t turn around. As his target sped into a run, Zach became a blur, and headed him off within seconds. Mission success.

After the mission, Zach thanked him. His voice was distant and professional, but his eyes were shy, sliding away from Loren’s sharp gaze. That was when Loren figured out what had really set him on edge earlier. Not his knowledge of Zach’s speed, or his apprehension about what it would mean and how it could interfere with his own job. It was that hint of vulnerability the man carried with him, buried deeply but somehow still visible even five stories down and from behind.

It was an uncomfortable mirror of the very vulnerability he’d had to kill inside himself.

Loren didn’t request not to be paired with him again, though. There was no professional reason they shouldn’t work together. And as a result of the mission’s success, PERI decided they made a good team. As they were paired up more and more, Loren began to understand that Zach’s speed wasn’t a liability, but the opposite. Zach could evade Loren’s bullets as easily as he could run into their path, and the more he got to know the patterns of Loren’s shooting, the easier it was for him to do just that. In turn, Loren learned how Zach approached his targets, and how to gauge where Zach would be at any given moment.

He learned other things about Zach, too. Like how the other man was always in better shape for their shared debriefing if he had a half-hour or so to decompress before beginning the journey back. Zach himself didn’t seem to have figured this out. He always pushed to head back right away. But if Loren said he himself needed more time, Zach was happy enough to give it to him.

So that was what Loren started doing. They found quiet spots to sit together after a mission, places where they wouldn’t be seen, where their faces wouldn’t be remembered. An out-of-the-way public park, or in a parking lot in their PERI-provided car, or even in the room where Loren had crouched with his gun, observing from afar. While they sat, they would talk, because sitting too long in silence could get awkward. But trying to find something to talk about was awkward in its own way. They were both perfect weapons, and weapons weren’t known for their conversational abilities.

Sometimes they compared notes on their training—sharing combat or surveillance techniques they had learned, griping about instructors who had taught them both. Sometimes they talked about the mission, complaining about something that had gone wrong, planning how they could do better next time. That was about the extent of their conversational repertoire.

Until, one evening, to break the silence, Loren asked Zach, “Out of all the cities you’ve visited, what’s your favorite?”

They were sitting in the car—a cavernous SUV this time—on the top level of a parking garage. The sunrise was a bloody warning, messy streaks of crimson splashed across the sky. Loren stared straight ahead, pretending to watch the sky, but he still saw Zach go suddenly rigid next to him.

“I don’t know,” Zach said after a moment. “They all look the same after a while.” He sounded equal parts tense and bewildered.

Loren couldn’t blame him. They were trained to be weapons, and weapons didn’t have preferences. But of course they all had meals at the headquarters cafeteria that they preferred, and ones they skipped if they could help it. They all had their favorite instructor and that one instructor they couldn’t stand. So why not a favorite city?

“I enjoyed seeing Prague,” Loren volunteered. “The entire city looks like a fairy tale.”

“I don’t remember any fairy tales,” Zach said, staring straight ahead at the sunset.

“Neither do I,” Loren lied. It would have made sense to leave it at that. Instead, he snuck a glance over at Zach’s perfectly still face and said, “Tuesday nights in the cafeteria are my favorite. Chicken parmesan.”

“I like vegetarian night,” said Zach after another long moment. And maybe it was Loren’s imagination, but he thought Zach might have flashed him a small smile.

They talked more easily after that. They talked about things that skirted the edge of danger—their fears when a mission didn’t go as planned, the nightmares that woke them in the middle of the night. Loren began to forget it was dangerous. He began to forget the threat he had sensed in Zach, and to let his guard down.

Until the day Zach asked, “Do you ever think about your life before?”

“Before?” Loren asked, like he didn’t know what Zach meant, although of course he did.

“Before PERI,” Zach clarified, sounding like he already regretted the question.

“No,” Loren lied immediately.

Zach’s answer came quickly. “Neither do I.” A small hesitation, and then, “Do you ever dream about it?”

“No.” Loren’s voice didn’t invite further questions.

“Me neither,” Zach said again. His face looked troubled. For a second, Loren was tempted to tell the truth: that he still thought about home every day. The little blue house across the street from the park. The baby sister he had left behind. She would be a teenager by now.

He didn’t say anything else. He turned away. They didn’t talk any more that day.

The mission where everything changed started like any other: Loren watching Zach from a distance, the speck with the wind-tossed hair and the creased shirt. Loren could recognize him by his gait and the angle at which he held his head. He didn’t even have to follow Zach with his eyes; he could look where he knew Zach was going to be, and Zach would enter his field of vision half a second later.

He never let himself think about why had been so easy to learn Zach’s patterns. Or about what exactly he had resisted in the other man at their first meeting. What kind of vulnerability had he sensed in Zach, exactly? What had he sensed in himself?

Better not to think about it.

But maybe he had been thinking about it, because he didn’t spot the threat coming up on Zach until it was almost too late.

He lined up his shot and fired. The figure dropped—but so did Zach. The enemy had gotten a blow in. Loren’s eyes showed him the wound in excruciating detail: a stab to his lower back, a circle of blood growing under him with terrifying speed.

Loren didn’t remember leaving his rifle behind. He didn’t remember running to Zach. His memory of that day only picked up later, in the small infirmary of the local satellite station, when he had looked down at himself and realized he was covered in Zach’s blood.

Lying next to him on a cot, Zach blinked up at him, bleary from the drugs. “Thank you for saving me,” he said in a smudgy voice.

Loren was so grateful that Zach could speak at all that it took him a moment to find his voice. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “I was too late.”

Zach shook his head. “No, you weren’t. You saved my life. Just like I knew you would.”

A nurse came along just then, and injected him with another dose of medication. His eyelids fluttered. Just before unconsciousness took him, he blinked up at Loren with glazed eyes and murmured something only Loren would have recognized as, “I love you.”

It took weeks for Zach to be mission-ready again. Loren hoped, selfishly, that it wouldn’t happen. That Zach’s injury would take him off active status permanently. It would be safer if they never had another chance to work together. Zach wouldn’t risk another injury, and Loren…

It would be safer. For both of them.

But soon enough, the assignment came. Him and Zach. Prague—of course it was Prague. And once he was looking down at Zach from above a winding cobblestone street, he had to admit being Zach’s backup felt right in a way none of his other missions had in the interim. He hadn’t memorized anyone else’s movements the way he had memorized Zach’s. He couldn’t anticipate where they would be. He didn’t have the assurance that they knew him well enough to stay out of his line of fire.

For the first time since Zach’s injury, Loren felt at peace.

As long as he didn’t think about that moment just before Zach had slipped out of consciousness.

But of course, when they sat together under the sunset in a park overlooking Prague Castle, that was the first thing Zach asked about. “Do you remember?” was all he said. But Loren, who knew Zach well enough to anticipate his every move, understood what he was asking.

He thought about saying no. “Of course,” he said instead.

“I meant it,” said Zach, and that was when he kissed him.

Kissing Zach was how he knew that killing the vulnerable part of him hadn’t been enough. Because with the soft touch of Zach’s lips against his, he felt the soft and dangerous thing inside him rising from the grave, swelling to fill his heart and then his entire chest.

But he didn’t stop. Not then, and not on any other day after a successful mission.

He killed his weakness all over again every time he rose from whatever bed he shared with Zach that day. Every time, he knew he would only have to do it all over again the next time. He suspected that one day it would kill him instead.

He knew he had to get out from under that dangling sword before it fell. It would be easy enough—all it would take close a single step to the side, away from Zach.

He never took that step.

When PERI gave him his latest assignment, he suspected it was too late—the sword was already falling. When he saw Zach lying at his feet in the treehouse, he knew it was.

Zach’s mouth gaped as he struggled to regain his lost breath. His eyes were wide with shock as he stared up at Loren. Shock—and betrayal.

As if he were the only one who felt betrayed.

His skin was too pale, his clothes matted with dried blood. Loren wanted to take him in his arms, and peel off his filthy clothes, and tenderly dress his wounds. He wanted to drive a knife into Zach’s heart the way Zach had driven an invisible blade through his.

All the nights they had spent together. All the secrets they had shared. And yet Zach had never told him the most important thing.

He had never told Loren he was planning to run.

“I can explain,” Zach whispered.

Loren grasped the rifle and pulled it around. He stared Zach down through the scope he didn’t need, and tried to pretend it was that easy to hold Zach at a distance.

---

Tagged: @sowhumpful

Ask to be added or removed from taglist.

[charlewiss-writes]

(bad at) keeping secrets / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 8: hide (part of one-word november prompts!)

summary: charles and you were seeing eachother for quite some time, but still couldn't quite figure out how to tell your brother, pierre. (and maybe you don't need to)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!reader

warnings: not proofread! also, badly translated french lmao

charles and you had met in the early days of his career, back when he was still racing in karts just like your brother, pierre. you and your family spent your whole days accompanying your older brother who, just as charles', couldn't see himself doing any other thing that wish to be part of the formula 1 world one day.

eventually, all three of you grew up, still together. even though you spend less time with them due to their tight schedules, you hangout just enough to catch feelings for the monegasque. still, you were always too scared to do anything with charles, not wanting to disrupt the friendship the two boys had since they were kids.

but the more you tried to stay away from him, the closest you became. it's like you two were attracted like magnets. so now, three months after starting to see eachother, he was in your apartment in only his sweatpants after a night together. it was a sunday, and due to it being an off-week for him, you two were taking advantage of the little time you had together watching a movie on the tv while laying on your bed.

until your heard the sound of keys on your door lock. you got up and looked at charles, confused because you weren't expecting anyone, and found it strange that the person who was trying to get in had the keys in the first place. you thought that maybe a neighbor had got the apartment doors messed up since they looked all the same, but you quickly recognised the voice that reached your ears.

"ma colombe (my dove), you home?"

charles, who was close to falling asleep a second ago, had almost fallen to the floor, caught off guard by his best friend's presence. you had been keeping your relationship a secret until now, not knowing how or when was the right time to tell pierre that you had been seeing his best friend, despite his general warnings to not mess with any drivers -especially the monegasque-.

"please stay here and hide. i'll get him out as soon as i can" you whispered to him, giving the boy a quick peek on the lips before fixing your hoodie. that wasn't even yours in the first place. god, you hoped pierre didn't notice. "yes, i'm home" you said, closing the door as fast as you could, so he wouldn't see who was inside. "what are you doing here?"

"great to see you two" he huffed. you hadn't mean to come off as annoyed to him, knowing that this was off of character for you, who had always had a soft spot for your big brother. he continued "maman said you had forgotten a jacket, and since your house was on the way to mine i decided that I should drop it off" he said calmly, while handling you the piece of clothing. you smiled and nodded thanking him, but didn't say anything else. "what is it, chère (dear), something wrong?" he asked, now worried due to your lack of interaction. in a normal situation, you would have invited him to lunch, maybe talk a bit about how his last race went. but your silence made him suspicious. "sorry, I was quite busy back there, I was just working" you quickly answered. maybe too quickly.

"working in your bedroom?" pierre asked, switching his stare to the door where you had came from. "if you were working, why are you so flustered?"

"i-i'm not" your cheeks immediately flushed pink, and you knew that if he continued to ask questions, you'll be fucked. "okay okay, if you say. see you at maman'š'" you took a long breath, filling your lungs after holding your breath for a bit too long. but just when he was about to disappear through the door, you heard his voice, full of mischief, while screaming out loud "also, tell charles he needs to get a more subtle car if he doesn't want to be seen".

[drewstarkeylover21]

It Just Never Ended (JJ Maybank)

Summary: JJ and Y/n attempt to recount to the Pogues how their relationship came to be. After all, it’s not called friends-with-benefits for nothing, right? 

A/N: OOPS wrote a one-shot for JJ because I couldn’t stop thinking about this topic...This has by far been my favorite work I have written so far so I hope you guys enjoy. ALSO it is a smidge lengthy but inspiration struck and the ideas were flowing too fast ;) please feel free to reblog, love u all !!!

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, cursing, a dabble of smut? 

JJ Maybank was not a relationship guy. Notorious around the Outer Banks for flirting with anything that had 2 legs and boobs, his charming smile made it extremely easy to find girls to entertain him. It wasn’t like he was trying to be a womanizing asshole 24/7, he just merely didn’t see what the point of romance was. What good was it to give your heart to somebody who could crush it just as easily as they took it? Hell, his parents didn’t even stay together. Weren’t moms and dads supposed to be a model of endearment? Passion? Through them, all JJ saw was the opposite. Afraid to be hurt by others, to turn into the man his father became after his mother left them, the boy swore off relationships. They were a waste of time. Love was a trap, a setup to be damaged beyond repair at the end of the line. And he wanted no part in it. JJ Maybank was not a relationship guy. Not until he met Y/n. 

Y/n L/n was not a relationship girl. Sure, once upon a time ago, she would have been considered one. With a personality so intriguing that you could spend hours listening to her talk, and a smile so easy that it made men swoon with one bat of an eye, she was the perfect girl to bring home and meet your parents. Not anymore. Maybe the fault lay in the boys she picked- ones who would lie to her, would blow her off at a moment’s notice to get shitfaced instead, would claim she was their one and only just to end up sleeping with a girl they had just met. Or maybe the fault lay in Y/n herself. Was she not pretty enough? Not interesting enough? Boring? Sick of being hurt repeatedly,  the girl swore off relationships. They were a waste of time. Love was a trap, a setup to be damaged beyond repair at the end of the line. And she wanted no part in it. Y/n L/n was not a relationship girl. Not until she met JJ. 

___

“You two are such simps for each other. It makes me physically nauseous sometimes,” Kiara quipped at the two of you, her face contorted with a half smile, half grimace, as she watched your figures perched on the tree stump across from her. 

You giggled, adjusting your body atop JJ’s lap to make yourself more comfortable, arms wrapped around the shoulders of the blonde, shaggy haired boy while your legs intertwined on the ground below you. 

“Sorry Kie, what can I say? I’m a catch. Y/n/n just can’t resist me,” JJ grinned, glancing down at you with earnest before sticking his tongue out in teasing. 

Pope let out a cackle at this, pointing at you and JJ. “You mean, she puts up with you! Y/n/n, remind me again how you’ve been dating this Iittle shit for almost 2 years? I’ve barely survived being his friend, I can’t imagine how you do it as his girlfriend.” 

You let out another giggle, turning to Pope in response. “You know, sometimes I ask myself the same question.”

“Hey!” JJ exclaimed, giving you a soft nudge. “If my memory serves correctly, you were all too ready to jump my bones the first time we met.” 

You opened your mouth to argue before John B spoke up. “Wait, yeah, how did you guys end up together for this long anyway? JJ’s never been interested in dating anybody until you came along Y/n.” 

Giving your boyfriend a sly glance out of the corner of your eye, you said, “Do you want to tell it or should I?” 

___

The Outer Banks. Your new home for the summer while you visited your Uncle Jim in the couple months preceding the start of a new chapter of your life at Kildare Academy. “A beautiful place to relax and spend some time before you start at a new school, Y/n. You can surf in the ocean, fish with me in the mornings, and mingle with some kids your age,” your uncle had told you. And you did just that. 

Your favorite past time occurred daily around 7 pm, where you would find solace in surfing along the coast while you watched the sun set behind you, painting the sky a beautiful array of pinks and oranges and purples. 

Finishing up one particular night, you grasped your board in between your arm and your side, walking up the sand when you spotted a figure standing next to your belongings, staring right at you. Making your way up the shore, you came face to face to the individual, a boy with a lopsided smirk, toothpick hanging out of the corner of his lips, and shaggy blonde hair tucked behind a red baseball cap. 

“Can I help you?” you asked suspiciously, your questioning tone hanging in the air. 

“Actually, yes you can. My name is JJ Maybank. Saw you hitting those last few waves, you’ve got some crazy moves,” the boy said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. 

Looking at him with slight skepticism, you grasped his hand in yours, giving your hands one shake before dropping your hand down by your side. 

“Hello JJ. I’m Y/n. And thank you,” you said with a small smile. This boy’s got some confidence, you thought. 

“Y/n,” JJ repeated with a smirk. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Say, are you a seashell? Cause I’d like to take you home with me.”

Jaw dropped in disbelief, you let out a cackle. “Holy shit, you’re funny. Does that actually work on girls?”

Unfazed by your reaction, JJ grinned back at you. “I mean yeah, it usually does. Did you not like that one? I have a lot more, wait- how bout, Damn girl, those waves aren’t the only thing you could be riding tonight.” 

You threw your head back in another fit of laughter, your eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re cute,” you answered. 

“Cute enough to get you to come home with me?” JJ asked hopefully. 

“Why don’t we start as friends buddy,” you laughed, patting JJ on the chest while moving to grab your things. 

“Friends sounds good. For now,” JJ settled, giving you a wink as he fell into step beside you, following you up the shore. 

___

“Woah, woah, woah. Am I hearing that correctly? JJ’s stupid, overused one-liners worked? That’s how you two started going out?” Sarah asked incredulously. 

“I mean, kind of but not really. The pick up lines were actually super dumb BUT once we started hanging out, I guess his company wasn’t all too awful,” you smiled in earnest. 

___

Throughout the next couple of weeks, JJ had adopted your sunset surf routine into his own, joining you every night to catch some waves. The two of you had become accustomed to each other’s company as you found yourself adopted into the Pogue family. Most, if not all, of your spare time was filled with mornings on the HMS Pogue, goofing off at The Wreck, and spending evenings surfing with JJ. You enjoyed spending time together as friends, albeit the mild sexual tension the two of you had developed. It wasn’t a rare occurrence to catch JJ’s eyes flit down to your breasts every time you removed your swimsuit coverup, and there were times when you would catch yourself zoning out on his muscular arms as he pulled in the fishing net. 

Plopping down onto his towel next to yours, JJ stretched out his arm, wrapping it tightly around you. You leaned into him comfortably, laying your head on his shoulder as if it were the most natural feeling in the world. The two of you stared off into the horizon in silence, basking in the sweet feeling of each others presence. 

“I’ll never get tired of this view. So beautiful,” you mumbled, eyes glowing as you watched the sun set below the clouds. 

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” JJ replied quietly. 

You turned your head to look at him, only to find his gaze fixated on you. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, jokingly punching JJ’s arm. “Nice one. That’s a cliche if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Not if I mean it,” JJ breathed, looking into your eyes intently. 

JJ dipped his head down, nose brushing yours as his gaze dropped to your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat at the proximity as you registered the dark, clouded look in his eyes. 

“I really want to kiss you,” he whispered. 

Overcome with desire, you closed the gap between the two of you, humming the second you registered the soft feeling of his lips on yours. You melted into his soft touch, moaning softly as his hand found solace on the bare skin of your thigh. Leaning backwards, you fell onto your back, JJ’s lips leaving a trail of peppered kisses down your jaw and behind your ear. 

“Fuck, J,” you let out, eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his tongue darted across your skin. 

Goosebumps littered your figure as you felt his nimble fingers swiftly untie your bathing suit and creep up to your breasts. Your body jerked with pleasure as his lips found your left breast, tongue flicking your nipple as his hand massaged the other one. 

“So beautiful Y/n,” JJ mumbled against your body.

“JJ,” you gasped as you felt his hands travel down to the curve of your ass, squeezing firmly. 

Sliding his head back up to your lips, you kissed him passionately as you bucked your hips forward, grinning as you felt his hard bulge pressing against your thighs. 

“Fuck Y/n, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” JJ breathed, his gaze intense. 

“Well, let’s not keep you waiting anymore, shall we,” you smirked before grabbing his face and pulling it to your face once more. 

---

You had never moved faster in your life than the morning after fucking JJ. Rolling away from his arm strewn across your body, you gathered your board and tote bag swiftly, scurrying away from the scene and to your Uncle Jim’s shack. 

“Late night with those new friends of yours?” Uncle Jim asked from the patio chair, peering over at you from the top of his newspaper. 

“Something like that,” you mumbled, making your way through the doorway and up to your room, collapsing onto your bed. 

Running your hands over your face with frustration, you groaned, terrified that you had just put yourself into a position that you swore you’d never be in again. One with desire, with affection. 

“Y/n!” Uncle Jim called from the bottom of the stairs. “There’s a boy named JJ here to talk to you. Says it’s urgent.” 

“Fuck that was quick,” you mumbled, clambering off of your bed and down the stairs. Coming face to face with JJ, you dropped your eyes to avoid eye contact, grabbing his arm and dragging him out into the backyard.

“Well good morning to you too sunshine,” JJ grinned. “Was very sad to wake up on the beach by myself.”

“Last night was a mistake,” you sighed. “I don’t know what we were thinking.”

“C’mon Y/n, it was just a little fun. You can’t deny that you don’t feel some kind of way towards me. I’ve seen the way you look at me in my swim trunks,” he joked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“You really do have the biggest head don’t you. And my feelings don’t matter JJ,” you sighed, pushing him away faintly. “I don’t do relationships. Whatever happened between us, I don’t want it. I don’t need it. We’re just friends and we should stay that way. Keeps things a lot less complicated at the end of the day.” Or keeps me from getting hurt at the end of the day, you thought. 

“Well isn’t it just extremely convenient that I don’t do relationships either?” JJ exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. “This is just perfect. You’re attracted to me, I’m sure as hell attracted to you, you’re hot, I’m hot, let’s just have some fun for the summer!”

“I’m sorry, what?” you sputtered.

“You said it yourself, we’re friends! We can easily add ‘with-benefits’ to that, and problem solved! Live a little girl!” JJ declared as if it were the most obvious thing in the world to him. 

You burst into laughter. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Oh Y/n. You should know that I’m always serious when it comes to sex,” JJ winked. 

Tilting your head to the side, you contemplated the suggestion. You and JJ already spent enough time together during the week, and sleeping together on occasion didn’t sound like the worst thing in the whole world. 

Raising your eyebrow at him, you sighed, “Fine. Let’s fool around this summer. But this ends when summer does, you hear me? We’re going to different schools and it just wouldn’t be sustainable. And no feelings. That will only complicate things.”

“Meaningless sex with a set expiration date? That completely gets rid of the weird fizzling out phase. Shit, this has got to be my best proposition yet!” JJ whooped, flinging his arms around you with joy. 

You laughed, pulling away from the shaggy haired boy and placing your hands on both of his shoulders, shaking gently. “J, repeat after me. Just for the summer, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just for the summer. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

___

“Just for the summer my ass!” Sarah shrieked. “Look at you guys. Almost 2 years in the bag. What the hell happened?”

“Honestly, we have no idea,” JJ chortled. “I guess it just never really ended. We were having fun during break, and we were both set on breaking things off when school started, but neither of us really had that talk when the time came.”

“Yeah, I mean it wasn’t out of avoidance or anything bad as much as it was just comfortability. I had gotten so used to being around this idiot that I kind of forgot to ever bring it up.”

“Plus, the school thing didn’t end up being as big of a deal as we thought it would be. I thought I wouldn’t want to be tied down to one person when the semester began but I realized that the only person I wanted to keep fucking was Y/n,” JJ added. 

“Gee, thank you. So romantic,” you stated sarcastically. 

“Oh please, like you weren’t thinking the same thing. I’ve seen the guys at Kildare Academy. They might be kooks but you gotta admit, they all look like little carbon copies of Brad Pitt,” JJ retorted. 

John B spoke, interrupting your little side banter. “So you guys started out as strictly fucking, and now you’re here?” he deadpanned. 

“Pretty much,” JJ shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not some grand love story or fairy-tale plot or whatever, but we’re both happy.”

“Oh god, emphasis on the ‘not-a-grand-love-story’ part,” you chuckled. “You should have seen the look on my face when JJ first told me he loved me.”

___

You honked the horn on your Jeep twice, idling in the parking lot of the Island Club as you waited for JJ to finish up his shift. Spotting his mop of messy hair, you waved, watching intently as he swung the door open and hopped into the passenger seat. 

“What’s up slime? Work alright today?” you greeted as you peeled out of the lot and onto the road. 

“Eh,” he shrugged. “I was this close to knocking Rafe and Topper on their asses today for some stupid comments they were making but I tried that calming breathing technique you taught me the other day. Walked away from their table without a single fist thrown. Saved me my job for sure, so thank you,” JJ finished.

“Seriously?! I’m so proud of you J,” you squealed, ruffling his hair with your free hand as you maneuvered through the roads. “I knew you could resist the urge to pummel their stupid faces in. They’re pieces of shit and don’t deserve your energy. Especially if it puts your job at stake. They have nothing better to do with their miserable lives than pick on other people. You’re a better man the two of them combined.”

Turning your gaze back in front of you, you cranked the wheel a couple of times, slotting your car into the empty parking space of the Wreck. “C’mon, dinner on me today. You deserve it after your day. And what do ya know, maybe we could head down to the beach afterwards for a little fun if you know what I-”

“I love you,” JJ blurted, his words overlapping your own. 

“Hahaha, you’re cute,” you replied, squishing his cheeks in between your hand. “I love you too, weirdo. Now let’s go! I’m starving.”

“No, Y/n,” JJ started, words leaving his lips slowly. “I love love you.”

You blinked at JJ, brows furrowed with confusion as you registered his confession. A grin broke out across your face as you began chuckling, chest heaving as you tried to speak between fits of laughter. 

“Nice one J, you got me,” you mustered through your snickering. 

“Y/n/n, I’m serious,” JJ returned sheepishly, looking up at you shyly through the throng of his blond locks. 

“What?” you breathed, gulping nervously. 

JJ cleared his throat, nervously itching the back of his head. “I mean it Y/n. I love you. I love you so much that I let you take me to hot yoga every week even though I absolutely hate the way it feels in there, I love the way you mess my hair up like I’m a little boy, I love how you think you could out swim me in a race, I love how much you care about me, I-I love you.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “You really mean all that?” you asked, finally meeting JJ’s eyes. 

“Do I have to say it again?” JJ groaned.

“Maybe,” you grinned. “I like hearing it. I love you too, J,” you answered.

“Thank God,” JJ sighed, leaning over the center console to kiss you on the forehead. “I was afraid I was gonna end up getting out of the car in defeat with no free dinner.”

___

“I’m so weak!” Kiara exclaimed, doubled over in laughter. “That is such a Y/n thing to do. JJ confesses his love for you and you laugh at him?”

“Jesus Kie, cut me some slack,” you giggled back. “I thought he was joking! I’ve never seen him look that serious.”

“She’s right, JJ’s not serious about much,” John B teased. “Don’t get me wrong, we all love the two of you together. Y/n’s made you the happiest I’ve ever seen you buddy. We were all just so surprised at how this even came to be, considering how we spent the better half of that first summer listening to the two of you talk about how you hated relationships and love.”

“I guess I just realized that love doesn’t have to be some complicated string of messy situations. Love is simply just finding somebody who understands you and supports you. Who you can’t really imagine your life without. The trust and the comfort just come along with it,” JJ responded, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“I love you,” you spoke softly, heart swelling at his words. 

“Ew, get a room please. I’m trying to eat here,” groaned Pope. 

Laughter ensued around the bonfire as you tucked your head into the crook of JJ’s neck. Life couldn’t be sweeter. 

___

JJ Maybank was in love. Though he swore he never would be, he came to understand that all it took was connecting with the right person for the rest of the pieces to fall into place. Sure, you could crush his heart as easily as he had given it to you, you had him head-over-heels smitten with you. But he knew you wouldn’t. You were made for him. And so what if you broke his heart into a million little pieces? It’d be an honor to have his heart broken by you. JJ Maybank was a relationship guy. All because of you.

Y/n L/n was in love. Though she couldn’t believe she found herself back in the thralls of a committed relationship, she couldn’t help but notice how her newfound romance with JJ made her feel ten times more in love than the rest of her previous relationships combined. With JJ, she felt safe, cared for, like she was the most important thing in the world in his eyes. Sure, there was always the looming worry of being hurt again, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was made for you. And so what if he broke your heart into a million little pieces? It’d be an honor to have your heart broken by him. Y/n L/n was a relationship girl once again. All because of JJ Maybank. 

[all-timelee]

I ain’t going nowhere || D.D.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Some bad language, smut

Took a crack at some smut for the first time, I think it turned out pretty okay, hope you like it!!

Masterlist

You’re feet were killing you, the day long walk you’d embarked on finally catching up to you. You’d do almost anything to stop for even a few minutes, but you knew it wasn’t safe. Letting your guard down in the woods, alone, was enough to get you killed anymore and you’d come way to far to die now.

You lifted up your water jug, taking a small sip as you continued walking, doing your best to ignore the fatigue and the growing hunger you were feeling. It didn’t matter how badly you ached inside, you had to press forward until you reached safety. You’d seen the signs, a nearby town, Alexandria. The chances of anyone being left were low, but you couldn’t help the growing hope that maybe it would be different this time.

The sun was setting fast, your daylight hours were limited, but you were close. So very, very close. Your legs were beginning to tremble and your breathing felt heavy, not from exhaustion, but because the lack of food was starting to weigh on you more than ever.

But then you saw movement, just ahead. A figure, standing out from the rest of the woods like a beacon. You slowed your pace, pulling out your knife just in case it wasn’t a human, but as you grew nearer, the face of the man became more and more familiar.

Rick. His hair had grown out more, gotten a little grey as well, but it was him. “Rick,” you spoke loudly, gaining his attention. He looked over at you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you and his whole body tensed.

“Y/N,” he breathed and before you could say anything else he rushed towards you, hugging you tightly around the shoulders. You laughed and hugged back, relieved beyond belief to see your friend again. When he pulled away, there was a new glint in his eye.

“You made it,” Rick said, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah,” you breathed and you could tell by his expression that he was happy about that too. “Found a few signs along the way, Alexandria, was hoping there was still people left there,” you explained, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a whole town of people, Y/N. A bunch of the group are there. Glenn, Maggie, Daryl…” You ears perked up at the name. Daryl was alive, he’d made it to safety. He hadn’t died out there somewhere, waiting for someone like you to find him.

“Come on, the sun’s setting, it’s not to far north.” You nodded and followed the man to safety, your heart almost pounding out it’s chest at the thought of seeing Daryl again.

He led you through the gates, the unfamiliar crowd weary of a new visitor but Rick assured them you were a friend. They all let you pass through, you took in everything, looking around with wide eyes. There were houses, big houses, it was a whole community that somehow survived through everything the world had thrown at them.

Then Rick turned to a house at the end of the row, the one he was heading towards was painted in green, and he smiled. “That’s Daryl’s. Go see him,” he said, motioning to it. You nodded before taking off in a run, pushing open the door and entering without any hesitation.

Daryl was sitting in the middle of the room, facing away from the doorway, but when he saw you enter he stood up quickly. You watched as relief flooded across his face and it hurt. All those times he’d worried about what happened to you, if you were even alive anymore. Seeing him here, safe and sound, brought tears to your eyes.

You closed the gap between the two of you in less than a second, wrapping him in a tight hug. You could hear him laugh, deep and rumbling as he lifted you off the ground and it was like music to your ears, you couldn’t get enough.

Daryl held onto you just as tightly as you held on, squeezing your body so hard it hurt. But neither of you could bear to let go.

“I thought I wouldn’t see ya again,” you breathed into his shoulder. He shook his head against yours, running a hand through your hair.

“Don’t say that, y/n. We both know better,” he replied. “I ain’t going nowhere.” You sniffled, pulling away slightly and resting your forehead against Daryl’s, watching as the fear melted away from his eyes. There was no anger or hatred in them anymore. Just relief.

You kissed him softly. And you stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other and foreheads touching. It felt good to have him back with you, to know he really was safe.

You pulled away reluctantly, needing to take a breath, but still holding him close, trying to absorb everything he could give you. Daryl leaned his forehead against yours again, staring into your eyes, memorizing your features and committing them to memory.

“Not to interrupt this moment, but Rick mentioned something about running water?” You spoke, Daryl smiling and nodding. “I could really use a shower.”

He smirked at that. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Come on.” He released you and lead you to the bathroom, immediately walking over to the sink in the room, washing your face a bit before turning back around to face the man.

He took a few steps closer to you, pinning you against the counter, his hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt. His fingers traced the scars covering your abdomen, your eyes closing instinctively at the sensation.

Daryl looked up at you, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Guess we should wash you first though, right?” You opened your eyes, letting your gaze move over his form. Your mouth curled upwards. “We could multitask,” you offered, leaning forward to kiss him hungrily.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.” He had your shirt off in seconds, dropping it on the floor and making quick work of unbuttoning your pants, sliding them off. The sight of your naked form was something to behold. It seemed like years ago he’d last seen you like this, completely vulnerable and trusting. How he loved every inch of that beautiful body of yours.

You moved to wrap your arms around his neck as he slowly pulled the material away from you, exposing your breasts. It was so easy, slipping his large hands under your shirt to cup the soft flesh there. You moaned quietly, the feel of his stubbled cheeks against your skin, the tickle of his beard against your nipples sending shivers through your body.

You tugged on his hair lightly and he groaned, biting gently at your lower lip and pressing kisses down the column of your throat. He pulled back quickly undressing himself while you turned on the water, both of you jumping in.

As the warm water cascaded over the both of you you pressed yourself against him, running your palms up his smooth bare chest, your nails tracing the contours and the scars that littered his body. He hummed approvingly and you felt your heart melt as he started to suck at a particularly sore spot on your neck.

His hands roamed over your body and soon his fingers were teasing your clit, moving against the sensitive bundle as you let out a muffled moan. The need was building steadily within you and suddenly, you needed to relieve it. Needed him, wanted him.

Without a single word, he plunged two fingers into you, enjoying the strained moan that fell past your lips. Your hips jerked to meet his fingers, desperate for release as his lips latched on to your jawline. He continued to pump his fingers inside of you, thrusting them deep, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Daryl,” you managed to say between moans. “Want you inside me, please.” You heard him let out a growl, a low vibration vibrating throughout his body. Without warning he withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you feeling bereft at the loss, only to push into the shower wall, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist and he lifted you up, thrusting himself into you.

You threw your head back, crying out loud as you felt him fill you, his grip tightening around your thighs. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin at the intense feeling. He groaned and thrust harder, slamming into you with a force that sent shockwaves through you.

“Fuck!” He cried out, his muscles straining as the orgasm took hold of him. You tightened around him as well, screaming out his name and coming undone with him. You came in waves after waves, your body arching against him as his name rolled off your tongue and he collapsed against the wall.

You laid against him for a long time afterwards; he held you closely in his arms, both of you breathing heavily. “We should definitely wash up now,” you chuckled, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Ya think?” He replied, smiling slightly as he loosened his hold on you and helped you stand up straight. You stretched your arms above your head for a few moments before turning back towards the tub and picking up the shampoo bottle.