#HIS LITTLE FACE IN THE CORNER BEHIND DAVE

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[g0dlyunsub]

don't pretend.

spencer can see through all of your lies, including the bruises you’re hiding behind makeup.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of prisons, physical violence, bruises, reader gets injured, patching up, fluff

word count :: 1.6k

author’s note :: oh, looks like i’ve spawned another hurt/comfort fic yet again…

accompanying song :: who hurt you by role model

you’re an ambitious profiler. 

you’re such an ambitious profiler that you interview offenders with the most extensive list of records whenever you have time. you want to understand more than just the simple question of why they did it. you want to explore the how’s and what if’s.

and you’re soft-hearted, so much so that you jeopardize your own safety. 

things should’ve gone smoothly with your fifth and last inmate of the week, had you been a little more aware of your surroundings.

but you placed too much faith on your ability to make peace with the man who unyieldingly worshiped violence.

that was your only mistake, but it was a costly one. 

you had kindly asked the guard to release the handcuffs, even though he insisted that they stay on. 

it’s alright, you told him with the wave of your hand. 

but you should’ve noticed the look of challenge on the inmate’s face. it was like he was taunting you, almost as if to say, do you really feel safe being in the same room as me?

it was your soft-heartedness that almost got you severely injured. 

he managed to land punches to your left cheek and scratched his nails into the flesh of your leg as he fell, right as he was tackled to the ground. 

he laughed when he saw you holding your hand against your throbbing cheek.

you arrive at the office as early as you can, a layer of makeup thicker than usual coating the bruise swelling your left cheek. 

you pretend to bury your head in the case file that you retrieved from your desk when the rest of the team started to flood into the room.

when spencer arrives, he gives you a nod and gleefully chirps good morning as he takes his seat beside you. 

spencer knows your routine like the back of his palm – he knows you’re busy with interviews at the federal prison on saturdays and sundays, and he knows you always need a caffeine boost the next morning. you gladly accept the cup of coffee that he sets in front of your hands with a small smile.

as hotch is debriefing the case with garcia, however, you can’t help but feel his eyes drilling into the side of your face, as if he can see through your cover. 

your makeup can’t be that obvious, right?

your thoughts are interrupted when hotch closes the cover of his case file, stands, and announces wheels up in 20. 

you lift yourself with the support of the table and wait for everyone else to exit before you follow, doing your best to disguise the limp in your walk.

---

“alright. jj and prentiss, go to the morgue. morgan and reid, go to the crime scene. dave, you and l/n can set up with the local p.d. i’ll go talk to the victims’ families.”

as hotch assigns roles to the team, everyone nods when their names are called out. but spencer raises his hand slightly and clears his throat.

“actually, hotch, do you mind if i switch with rossi and set up with l/n and the locals instead?”

hotch hesitates for a second, but nods slowly. 

“sure. dave, you okay with that?”

the italian agent cocks up a questioning eyebrow but gives a warm smile. “i don’t see why not.”

you’ve never heard spencer contest hotch’s orders before, so you’re stumped as to why he’s suggesting an alternative role this time. but you soon brush off the thought, and decide to occupy your time re-reading the case files before the jet lands.

you sink into your seat with a heavy sigh, forcing your eyes shut as pain travels down your legs. you’re thankful that hotch assigned you to set up at the local p.d., since it doesn’t require much locomotion and spares you the struggle of getting up constantly. you watch as spencer spreads the corners of the map and sticks push pins into the corkboard. 

“how did your interviews go yesterday?” spencer breaks the silence first and moves to grab a red marker. with his practiced hand, he quickly circles the areas of the crime scenes on the map.

you gulp.

“they went pretty well, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

spencer caps the tip, and a click sounds as the plastic edges meet. he nods, wets his lips with his tongue, and turns to look at you. you meet his gaze for a brief second before you look away, pretending to busy yourself with the m.e. reports that jj sent over.

“green neutralizes red.”

his sudden remark startles you. you drop the papers in your hands and look up. “i’m sorry?”

“green contains the wavelengths that are missing in red light, so when they mix, the colors neutralize each other. that’s why concealers with a green base are better at covering up more reddish bruising,” spencer elaborates, and starts to match up the photos of the crime scenes to the locations marked on the map.

you blink. oh.

there’s no way he’s talking about you, right?

“um, yeah, green’s a common color corrector,” you mutter as you nervously tap your fingers against the wooden table. “but there weren’t any bruises or marks of assault on the victims.” 

spencer scoffs as you finish your sentence.

“it’s not about the victims. you. i’m talking about you.” 

you swallow slowly. 

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try, a fake smile plastered over your face as you shake your head left and right. 

spencer studies you with a scrutinizing stare, eyes boring into yours like he’s counting the number of times you blink.

“could you grab that for me?” he asks at last, pointing to the book that’s two tables away, the one titled florida’s topography and bathymetry. without thinking, you nod and stand.

fuck.

what a clever way to set you up. now you have to somehow mask the limp in your steps and pretend like the pain coursing through your legs is nonexistent.

you do your best to walk normally, but it’s hard to tell if you’re doing a good job from his unreadable stare. you hold the book out with a bemused smile, hoping it’s enough to cover your pained expression.

he doesn’t look convinced. 

“that,” spencer points to your leg with an accusatory gaze, “why are you walking like that?” 

he swiftly takes the book from you, and your hand instinctively grips the side of the table for support.

“like what?” 

you’re going to make him pry the confession out of you. 

“like you’re hurting,” spencer utters quietly. his last word catches your breath completely.

“is that why you asked rossi to switch with you? so you could interrogate me?” 

“who hurt you?” spencer ignores your question, setting the book aside and leaning over the table to get a closer look at your face. 

instinctively, you retreat and look down, but he walks around the table and kneels in front of you. your brain buzzes with the words he’s just declared. it’s not what did you do, or what happened to you. instead, it’s who hurt you. 

“i… it’s nothing.” you shift in your chair, but he stops the seat from turning completely by laying a hand on the headrest.

“tell me. please.” 

you can’t fake it anymore, especially when he’s already hammered the nail into the hole perfectly.

you rub your sweaty palms on your lap. “one of them tried to hurt me during the interview. i-it was my fault, i asked the guards to take off the cuffs. i thought they’d be more willing to cooperate that way.”

spencer’s expression mellows as you speak, but he doesn’t return a comment. somehow, this makes you even more nervous.

a second after, he lifts his hand and slides a finger along the slightly swollen area of your cheek. he hesitates when you start to wince in pain.

tapping his knee with his index finger, he instructs, “let me take a look at your leg.”

you comply.

when you lift your leg, spencer’s hand slips between the wedge of your platform's heel, and gracefully sets your foot on his knee. 

you observe him gently push the thin fabric of your trousers upwards. you hold your breath when he leans in to inspect closely, and you almost shudder when the vapor of his warm breath tickles the gash on your flared shin. 

spencer steps back to retrieve a first-aid kit lying nearby and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. without saying a single word, he pulls a cotton pad and a gauze roll from the bag.

as he wraps your leg with the gauze, he looks up to meet your lowered gaze.

“tell me his name.”

you bite your lip.

“it’s fine. you should focus on the geo-profile instead.” you exhale as spencer unfolds the rolls on the hem of your trousers to cover your leg again.

“you do know that it won’t take me long to go through every incident report,” he retorts back with a challenging glint in his eye. your cheeks heat up with a hot flush of red.

goddamnit, spencer reid. 

you hastily brush yourself away from him.

“what are you going to do?”

he pauses, every second of silence only feeding your suspicions. you watch the corner of his lips tug into a smirk.

“you know, nothing out of the ordinary.”

you huff.

“don’t use my words against me.” 

he shrugs with an indifferent expression, but chuckles before standing back up.

“his name. or do we want to do this the hard way?”

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x best friend fem!reader

Summary: Dave is devastated by your supposed crush on his alter-ego, Kick-Ass.

Genre: hurt and comfort, fluff

Warnings: jealous!Dave, swearing, not explicitly consensual kissing (both of them are okay with it however!), blood

~ thank you for requesting, anon!! this was a very cute idea!~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

The comic store was more crowded than usual that afternoon. You, Todd, Marty, and Dave had squeezed into your usual booth, with you and Dave squished shoulder to shoulder as he rambles on and on as you stare at the small TV in the corner which is playing more news coverage about Kick-Ass. Your cheeks feel significantly warmer.

"She's drooling again," Marty quips, and all three boys turn and look at you with interest. 

"Who knew girls were so horny," Todd comments with a smirk and sucks his milkshake obnoxiously.

Dave, unlike the other two, looks positively flustered as he watches you. His eyes land on the screen and then on yours.

"Hm, doesn't the suit look good on him," you hum and sigh, turning to your friends with a serious expression. "Do'you think he's young? He looks young."

"Looks around our age, so I suppose that means you're free to bone him, Y/n." Todd shrugs. 

That makes Dave blush crimson.

You slap Todd's arm from across the table. "Shut up."

"We all know you want to," Marty adds and sips his milkshake like he knows something. You chew on your lip, subconsciously leaning into Dave as you turn back to look at the TV and let out an amused sigh as your eyes stay glued onto the screen. 

This isn't the first time you're pining over Kick-Ass. You've been doing it for a while now and it makes Dave blush every damn time. Some part of him feels like an asshole for feeling that way about you considering you aren't drooling over him. Not over Dave, your best friend.

No, you're drooling over a superhero who is completely different from himself. His alter-ego, someone who is undeniably so much better than him. 

How can Dave Lizes ever compete with Kick-Ass?

Todd kicks him in the shin but you're too entranced to sense the tension.  

"What?" Dave mouths and his cheeks flame crimson when Todd points between you and him and makes obnoxious kissing noises. Dave sends his friends a frown and shushes them with a shake of his head. Luckily for him, you aren't paying any attention as you watch the screen, your mind focused on only one thing. 

How does Kick-Ass look so damn good in that stupid costume?

* * *

Sirens go off as Dave limps away, blood staining his lip. He's not badly hurt, just a little shaken up. It isn't like he could feel much of the pain anyway. He sniffs and wipes a hand under his lip, groaning. The air is cold and the night is cloudy. He's been so preoccupied by you that he's been shit at his job—or worse than usual. 

Dave prepares to walk home when he hears a small sniffle from behind a tree in the park he's walking by. He frowns,something stirring in his chest as if pulling him toward the sound. 

Someone could be hurt. 

He forces some bravado as he rounds the park gate and approaches the tree, the sniffling becoming louder. 

His body stiffens when he sees you huddled behind a dress, wearing that dress you'd shown him a thousand pictures of. Realization dawns on him. Corey Addams. You did have a date with him tonight. 

That dickhead.

"What are you doing here?" The question comes out weirdly interrogating as Dave's voice lowers in an attempt to have him be unrecognizable to you and you jump, looking up as you frantically paw at your teary cheeks.

Dave feels like a jerk as he watches your face morph into one of panic and he kneels down, now panicked in his own way. "Hey, hey, it's okay. M' not gonna hurt you. Are you okay?"

He's fumbling with his words, unsure if he's even doing the right thing. You blink at him, your eyes still watery. Dave knows you have a crush on Kick-Ass so this must be extra embarrassing and in his panic, he looks you up and down and fakes a much too insightful educated guess as a way to make you comfortable. 

"Did you just get dumped?"

You scrunch up your nose in confusion and shake your head. Your crying has ceased and you huddle your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your knee. You sigh and look around at the mostly empty park.

"I'm hopeless," you say, not looking at Kick-Ass in particular. 

Dave swallows and fully sits down now, unsure what else he can do. As a superhero he wants to make sure you're safe, and as your best friend, he has a burning desire to stay with you. You turn to him and chuckle out a laugh, sniffling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, confused.

"Me. I'm a fucking joke," you whisper, laughing as you try not to cry again. "I'm so stupid."

"Why do you say that?" Dave asks in a rush, his voice high again. You're too busy self-loathing to hear the change. 

"Because I spend all my fucking time pretending that the one boy I am in love with, I am not actually in love with him! A-and then I go around trying to forget him with any boy that smiles my way or simply walks by and they're never good enough."

Dave thinks you're talking about Kick-Ass and he panics even more. "I-"

"Like how fucking stupid am I? Rambling on and on about you when all I want is him?"

Dave's heart sinks. Shit, he thinks, so you must be talking about Corey then.

After a beat of silence, he says, "I'm sure your date likes you back." He assumes you're most likely overwhelmed since you had said Corey didn't dump you and it's late and—

"My date?" you laugh, "What are you talking about? No. Not my date. My best friend," you ramble on, tears still falling. "I love him and I've messed it up too many times pretending like I don't. I- and Corey told me David's in love with Katie and I just feel so stupid."

You're too distraught to catch on to how weird it is that Kick-Ass has more information about your date than he should as you ramble on and on to him as if he understands who everyone is. Dave can tell you're mostly just speaking out your frustrations. 

"D-David?"

You nod, sniffling. "Dave. My best friend, the guy I'm in love with," you tell him and look at Kick-Ass, groaning immediately and then holding your face in your hands like you'd just done something shameful. "Fuck, I'm sorry, this is inappropriate. I'm so sorry I am wasting your time—"

You lower your hands and then he's kissing you before you can finish the sentence. His hands cup around your cheeks as he leans in and continues to kiss you.

You lose yourself in the moment for a bit, your very real yet superficial attraction to Kick-Ass kicking in as you kiss him back until reality finally snaps in and you push him away, scrambling up. 

"What the fuck?!" you scream, feeling violated as you wipe your lips with your hand.

Dave panics now fumbles with his costume. "W-Wait, let me explain," he mutters as he frantically pulls at the zipper behind his neck and throws his mask onto the dirt. He looks up, brown curls falling in front of his eyes. Your eyes widenand you blink at him. 

"Hi," Dave mumbles, his blue eyes shining as the tips of his ears burn. 

"Fuck!" you shriek and lean forward, kneeling again as you now cover his face with your hands, all kinds of emotions overcoming you. "What is wrong with you?!" You grab his mask, shoving it in his hands. Your heart is pounding as he stumbles, falling over from the roughness of the way you're tackling him. 

He grunts and holds your waist with one hand as he pushes your hands away to pull his mask back on. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!" he mutters as he attempts to zip it up. You mumble curses and take over, adjust the fabric as you sit back on your heels and simply watch him. 

Dave.

Kick-Ass is Dave?! 

You swat his arm repeatedly. "You fucker!!"

"O-ow!" Dave winces as he shields himself from the blows. 

You continue to hit him, your mind unable to process anything anymore— "I can't believe you hide this from me! And that you kissed me?! You fucking perv!" you shout, with no real bite behind your words as your palm rests on his toned chest. 

Fuck. 

Dave sits back as your assaults calm down and groans. "I'm sorry."

"Bullshit," you clap back, staring at him. "You aren't sorry. You did that on purpose because I–" you cover your mouth with your hands, "I admitted I have a crush on you."

Dave grins widely, some confidence coming back as he nods his head.

"Kill me," you mutter. 

"Kiss you?" he asks. He's looking at you with his striking blue eyes, chewing on his lower lip. You look at him in his costume and now it all makes sense. Duh, Dave Lizewski is Kick-Ass! It's all in the eyes. How could you have missed them? 

"What?" 

"You just asked me to kiss you."

You pause for a moment but then you break out into laughter.

"I didn't," you say.

Dave leans away, hurt written across his features. "But you want it," he tries. "Y/n I have loved you for years. How could you not know?"

He looks completely serious. You know him. You've known him for years. You know that look behind his eyes. Your expression softens and warmth fills your chest. 

"You can't go around kissing girls without their permission," you whisper, inching forward as your eyes drift to his lip. Dave's lips. 

Dave leans in, almost entranced as he senses your movements. You've always been connected but this feels like a magnetic pull. "I don't plan on kissing any other girls, just you," he says honestly, not even trying to make a move, "but I should have asked you. I'm sorry. I should have—"

It's your turn to pull him in, crashing your lips against his. It isn't smart, kissing Kick-Ass out in the open like this but neither you nor Dave seem to care. Your lips move rhythmically with his and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. 

Dave's gloved hands tighten around your hips, pulling you in even closer as he loses himself in you. You feel so at ease as he deepens the kiss, only pulling away to catch your breath. Dave's looking at you from behind his mask, his chest heaving. 

You lean in and hug him, holding him close. "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?" you whisper.

Dave wraps his arms around your middle. "Why didn't you?" he counters. 

You grin against his shoulder. "Smartass."

Once you pull away again, Dave stands and holds out his hand. He pulls you up and looks around. Thankfully no one is around. "Let me walk you home?"

You nod and nudge his shoulder as you walk. He laughs and pushes you away a little—just like always. A comfortable silence falls upon you both and you itch to hold his hand. Instead, you ask softly. 

"You're careful, right?" You look at his costume.

It's barely audible but Dave hears you anyways. He nods. 

"Yeah. I always am."

Your hand grazes his and your chest fills with warmth. 

"Good. Can't lose you when I've only just gotten you."  

tags: @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 7)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Weekend getaway :)

Warnings: Suggestive themes aaaaandd a little of that internalize homophobia again

Author's Note: NO BETA BC THIS TOOK ME FOREVER GOOD LORD IM SORRY FOLKS! I moved and started a new job and I leave for Europe in a week so life has been NUTS

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Melissa led the way through the front doors of the hotel. You could tell she was excited by the highly animated way in which she spoke to you. She used her hands and fingers to gesture to you and she lingered close to you with her last word, “This weekend is about three things: the endless buffet, laying by the pool, and sex.”

The corners of your lips rose as her lips neared your own. There were still a few inches between you, but you knew that was plenty close for a place as public as a hotel lobby, “In that order too?”

Your response made the redhead laugh as both of her hands squeezed your bicep. You lost yourself for a moment while you watched her grin at you. It was the voice of a man that unfortunately ripped her eyes from you, “Melissa?” 

As she turned to face the voice, her red hair flicked over her shoulder with the spin of her head. When her eyes landed on the familiar face of her ex boyfriend, her smile faded, but her tone remained polite, “Hey, Gare.”

A brief silence fell between the former lovers (as did a thick awkwardness), and you waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Gary was the first to break the silence when he noticed Melissa’s eyes wander over to the brunette at his side, “Oh, this is my girlfriend - Lea Ann”

Melissa only nodded, remaining silent and giving a faux smile to the lofty man. It was when he realized Melissa had very little interest engaging with Gary and Lea Ann that Gary decided to turn his attention to you. With a kind smile, he reached out his hand, offering it to you along with his name, “Gary.”

“Y/N.” You return the smile and handshake, surprised at the way his face lit up at hearing your name.

“Mel told me about you when we were dating.” He quipped while wrapping his arm around Lea Ann’s shoulders, hugging her to his side. He seemed genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance - it made you wonder why Melissa refused to commit to something more serious with him.

You folded your arms over your chest, glancing down at Melissa and then back to Gary again, “Did she now?”

Gary was highly enthusiastic with how he spoke to you, recalling memories Melissa had shared with him months ago, “Of course. You were her date to the senior prom after some punk ditched her.”

You couldn’t hide your pleasure in knowing Melissa had talked about you in her previous relationship. You had always assumed she would have kept even your friendship a secret. With a great big smile, you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, “I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?”

Melissa gave a reluctant smile, changing the subject away from your relationship, “What are you guys doin’ out here?”

Gary eagerly squeezed Lea Ann to his side once more and beamed at her. The brunette shifted into his side, wrapping an arm behind his back to better lean against him. It was clear they were enamored with one another, “Early anniversary trip. Lea Ann and I met at Dave & Busters not too long after we broke up. She is real good at skeeball.” 

Lea Ann added to the conversation with a shy voice, “How about you guys?”

“A trip for old times’ sake.” Melissa’s response contained a tone that was anything other than warm. While some might not have noticed, you saw her turn snarky and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It was obvious to you Melissa was offended by what she thought was Lea Ann’s ‘nosiness’. The redhead folded her arms over her chest, indicating she was finished with the conversation.

Gary knew Mel well enough to give a curt nod and guide Lea Ann away from you both, “Well, I hope you two have a great time.’

“Yeah, you too.” Your voice fell as they walked away - knowing full well Melissa would be upset at this interaction when you arrived at the hotel room.

—

You shifted awkwardly near the door of the hotel room. Melissa had abandoned her luggage in the middle of the room and tossed her purse on the bed before dropping into the chair into the corner to scroll on her phone. She seemed increasingly detached from you since you had spoken to Gary. 

While the detachment made you furious, you gave her a chance to tell you how she was feeling before you spiraled, “Everything okay?”

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she replied. If anything, she seemed annoyed that you would even ask such a question, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Biting your tongue, you turn your back to her with a huff and tug open the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs.”

—

You twist the glass of dark liquor in your hand, mindlessly watching the ice swirl about in the liquid. A fire had been lit in your stomach at the realization that nothing had changed between Melissa and you. She still refused to admit her feelings for you or the opposite sex. Of course you were infuriated, but it was more of a rage fueled sadness had you refusing to look at Melissa who sat (im)patiently next to you. 

“You gotta work with me here. It’s one thing to take a weekend away together, but it’s a whole other thing to be tellin’ people that we are a couple.” Melissa sounded colder than she would have wanted, but there was no taking the words back now. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second.

It was clear Melissa didn’t truly understand why you were upset with the entire situation. With a deep sigh, you chose to explain your feelings to her, “I don’t mind that we aren’t official or whatever. I don’t even care that this is so casual. I just can’t be your dirty little secret anymore.”

“It isn’t like that.” 

Her reply was quick, but you weren’t convinced. “Melissa… Anytime someone gets remotely close to the truth, you get all spooked and then I have to deal with the consequences.”

The redhead chewed at the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say to you. She remained facing forward, her fingers absentmindedly ripping at the napkin placed in front of her by the bartender. Mel furrowed her brow as she spoke, “I’m not spooked. I just don’t want people all up in my business.”

You weren’t convinced.

“Either way... You know how I feel about you... how I have always felt about you, and I-” In an instant, you regret opening your mouth. You could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks from the corner of your eye. As always, you had gotten ahead of yourself, and now it was time for you to finish explaining your emotions before Melissa found a way to steer the conversation away from the vulnerability it was currently steeped in, “For me, it feels like you’re ashamed... of me, and it’s not a great feeling.”

Melissa glared at you for a few moments, and then you saw her left hand reach out to hold you by the back of the neck to pull your lips to hers. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you felt Mel’s teeth teasing your bottom lip and her right hand creep up to the middle of your thigh.

When she pulled her lips away from yours, her voice was low, “I’m sorry I made ya’ feel that way. I could never be ashamed of you.”

Regardless of the people sitting all around, you dove back in for another kiss. You felt her melting into you. With every second you kissed her, Melissa inched closer to the point in which she had slipped off her chair to stand between your knees. Her hands braced against your thighs and breasts pressed to your chest. 

The redhead was breathing heavily when she finally drew her lips away from yours. She had turned her head to glance around the room in search of prying eyes when you buried your nose in her hair. 

After Melissa’s worries of being watched were soothed by the absence of onlookers, she turned back to you, capturing your face in her hands. She spoke in a low tone which caused you to swallow hard, “Let’s go upstairs, hon.” She took your hand, tugging you along after her towards the hotel lobby. 

The deafening chorus of casino games, live music, and both winning and losing gamblers was all but a mere whisper to you the moment Melissa peered over her shoulder at you with a smile - a smile that only confirmed your long standing love for her.  

When she had you in the elevator, you were up against the wall before the door was closed with her mouth against yours. Mel was busy trailing her lipstick from your lips to your neck as you choked out a dizzied concern, “We are... going to miss our... uh, dinner reservations.”

“Where at?” Melissa was far too busy tasting your collarbone to give much attention to the thought of going out for dinner. She was far more interested in getting you up to your hotel room to get more acquainted with the hotel bed.

“Some fancy steakhouse.” You murmur before returning her fervor. By now the elevator doors were shut and neither of you had given much more thought to pressing a button to get the elevator moving. Instead you were more consumed with the urge to turn the tables on Melissa and press her against the elevator wall. 

Melissa’s hands were woven tightly into your hair as you pinned her to the wall. Your force only propelled her further into the raging desire she felt for you. Mel didn’t need to use any words to convey how much she needed you. Everything about your kisses was sloppy and steeped in desire. 

She allowed one of her hands to wander to the back of your neck as your lips drifted down her neck to her cleavage. The redhead held you tight with one arm while the other clumsily reached to illuminate the button to floor 15, “We can just order pizza.”

Her efforts to get the elevator headed towards your floor weren’t swift enough. The elevator dinged and the doors to the lobby parted, allowing a familiar tall, bald headed man and his brunette girlfriend onto the elevator with you both. 

With the introduction of Gary and Lea-Ann onto the elevator, Mel and you partially parted. She kept an arm around you with a hand resting on your hip and her body was pressed to yours as she suppressed a coy smile. Melissa raised a manicured hand to her lips, attempting to tidy her smeared lipstick with her thumb. All the while she stared at you down like a starved lion. 

Your heart was pounding and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. It took everything in you not to confess your love then and there. She was beautiful like this - seemingly liberated of her shame and enthralled with the premise of being caught in such a public act of affection. 

Gary was obviously confused by your closeness and he cocked his head, needing to double check to see if it was really Melissa who was really pinned into the corner of the elevator by you, “Melissa?”

“Oh, hey.” She cleared her throat and acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. You attempted to move your hands from her waist, but her hand caught your wrist to prevent you from pulling away. 

The elevator devolved into silence as it began moving to the upper floors. You couldn’t see the looks on Gary or Lea-Ann’s faces as you were too busy watching every shift in Melissa’s expressions. You wondered if this would be the end of your relationship. Your heart was pounding and you were growing anxious at the thought of the potential rejection headed your way. The only thing that kept you from completely losing it was Melissa’s manicured hand on the back of your neck, softly twirling your loose locks between her digits. 

Her eyes flickered between the rising elevator numbers, your company, and the elevator doors. Melissa was terrified of who Gary could tell. Through all of her family and friends, she knew this moment could reach someone she knew in a matter of hours. Her personal fears were being slowly subdued by her own willpower. As her eyes drifted back up to your face, they were now filled with a subtle determination to prove herself to you. 

Melissa pushed against your abdomen so you would step aside, but she kept both hands on you as she talked to Gary, “How’s your night goin’?”

“Good. I- I didn’t know you two were-” Gary couldn’t hide an ounce of his confusion at seeing you together. 

“Together? Yeah, well... Now you know.” The redhead finished his sentence before adding her own bit of attitude at the end of her thought. A lump formed in the back of her throat at admitting your relationship out loud, but there was no taking it back now. 

While Melissa was dealing with her own inner turmoil, you were relishing in the fact that Melissa described you two as being ‘together’. You were riding that high even after the elevator stopped on your floor and Mel took your hand to pull you after her. 

It was Melissa who lifted your arm to place around her shoulders when you stepped off the elevator. She also turned back to face her ex boyfriend with a cheeky grin, “Have a good night you two.”

Link to Chapter 8

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[dixons-sunshine]

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Two | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl get a little bit more insight on your ambushers. The leader, Liam, is extremely suspicious, but you just can't figure out why. And to top it off, a certain secret of yours gets revealed that changes everything.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 3.6k.

A/n: It's finally done. I powered through and got it done. Yay me! However, this chapter is pretty boring with limited action, but I hope y'all like this nonetheless!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89, @jupiter1700, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @ddamm (comment/DM/inbox to be added!)

“I know, it's a lot to take in at first.” With a grand gesture and a big, inviting smile, Liam proudly showed off the beautiful landscape behind him, putting all of the luxuries they had on display for you and Daryl to see—well, as far as luxuries could go in a world ran by the undead. “But I promise you, as soon as you get settled into your new...” There was a slight pause before he continued. “...chambers, a wonderful life most certainly awaits you.”

The leader's voice barely reached your ears. The whole scenario baffled you; if they wanted you to join their community, why feel the need to ambush and kidnap you? Why tie you up and throw you in the back of a van, with a sack over your head to obscure your vision, most likely as a way to ensure you didn't know what turns they took? And why wouldn't they just ask you whether or not you wanted to join the community in the first place?

A million thoughts ran with the speed of light through your mind, but there was one thing you knew for sure; you didn't trust this Liam guy, and you certainly didn't trust this community. You could immediately tell that something was off. You couldn't figure out just yet what about it unnerved you so much.

“Dave, Marco.” At the sound of their names being called, the two guys who stood beside you and Daryl perked up, their backs straightening as they regarded their leader. “Make sure that the cooks make enough food for our newest additions. And,” he began, looking at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. Whether it was real or not, you didn't know yet. “Call up doctor Miller and tell him to expect two patients.”

“Why two?” one of the goons questioned. He looked at Daryl in disgust, something that irked you beyond belief. “Only the sexy lady here seems like she needs it.”

From the corner of your eye, you could clearly see Daryl tense up. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't even have noticed the way the archer's body language shifted, but you caught it. Of course you caught it. You knew Daryl better than anyone, and you knew that he was getting more pissed off by the second. One wrong move, and that man was more dead than the monster's that roamed the earth.

“Jesus, Dave,” Liam reprimanded him, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. “You knocked the guy out with some hardcore stuff. We don't know how much of the fumes he inhaled. I don't want to take any chances. Our guests need to be properly checked out.”

Dave grumbled something under his breath, but ultimately agreed. However, right before he and the other man, who you assumed to be Marco, walked off in the direction of a small building, he stopped next to Liam and whispered something in his ear. The leader nodded before waving him off. They left and soon disappeared, and your attention quickly got drawn to the leader again.

Liam turned back to regard you and your husband. His lips formed into a tight smile, his eyes squinting with the pull of the muscles. For some reason, the action sent a shiver up your spine, and definitely not the good kind you'd experience when Daryl softly traced his fingers over your back. You had a lot to be wary of, and this Liam guy certainly didn't make a very good first impression on you or Daryl. You were sure that your husband wanted to lunge at the man and pound his face into the ground with his bare hands, and you definitely didn't blame him. You wanted to do the exact same thing.

Liam motioned to someone over your shoulder. In moments, somebody was grabbing at your shoulders and hoisting you up onto your feet. You stumbled a bit, not tumbling back to the ground only because Liam stepped forward to steady you. You instantly jerked back, moving away from his touch. You would've punched him for even thinking of touching you when he was the reason you were probably light-years away from your friends and family, but the rope tightly binding your hands stopped you from doing so.

You heard grunting coming from behind you. You spun around and saw the same goon practically manhandling your husband, forcing him up to his feet. When Daryl struggled against his hold, the man decided that punching him would be a good decision. The sight of Daryl being knocked back down to the gravel unleashed a certain protectiveness in you, and you took a warning step forward.

“You stay the fuck away from him, and keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” you yelled in anger, moving over to your husband and sinking down to your knees beside him. You thanked your lucky stars that your hands were bound in front of you and not behind your back, because it allowed you to trace your fingers over his face, searching for any bleeding. “Baby—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl mumbled, glaring up at his attacker, his eyes alight with the fire of a thousand suns. “Asshole punches like a girl. No offense, Peach.”

You gave him a small smile. “None taken.” You helped him sit back up with a lot of effort, your hands straining against the rope and getting rope burn in the process. You clambered up onto your knees and carefully stood up, struggling to maintain your balance. Daryl followed your lead, and soon the two of you were stood in front of the leader.

Liam gazed at the two of you thoughtfully, his face unreadable. His green eyes flickered between you and Daryl for a moment too long for your liking before he readapted his smile. “Sorry about that, mate,” he began, his gaze landing on Daryl before moving over to the goon that had just attacked Daryl a few moments prior. “Peter just doesn't know how to behave himself.” The aforementioned man cowered under his leader's gaze, something you instantly picked up on and locked in the back of your mind. “Don't worry, he'll be punished appropriately.”

“Sir, please, I'm so—”

“Save it,” Liam snapped, glaring at the man harshly. “You know the rules, Peter. All actions have consequences. Those are the rules. If I ease up on you, the next person will expect me to do so and order will be disrupted.” He stopped for a few moments, simply staring at Peter with an unreadable look in his eyes. “You are dismissed. I expect you to be in my office in two hours. If you're not, well, you know what will happen.”

Whether that last part was a warning or a threat, you didn't know. However, what you did know was that for whatever reason, this Peter guy was deathly terrified of his leader. He visibly slumped and averted his eyes from everyone as he hurried away, practically bolting as if being chased by something.

Now being left alone with Liam, your eyes locked with the man's green ones. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but there was something wrong with the man in front of you. He reminded you a lot of the Governor, the more you thought about it, but at the same time, he was different. It annoyed you to no end that you couldn't quite figure out exactly what about the green-eyed man made you feel cautious.

Well, his men ambushed and kidnapped you and your husband, so that was a pretty good place to start.

“Once again, I am so incredibly sorry about that,” Liam started, his face adapting a look of sympathy. “Peter is a rather new addition to my ‘police force’, so to speak. He hasn't quite learned that we don't resort to violence unless it's an absolute necessity.” He stopped for a second, looking at you before sighing. “Miss, I truly am sorry about what Peter did to you as well. Please excuse me for saying this again, but you do look like shit.”

You couldn't understand what this man's deal was. Merely a few minutes ago, while he was surrounded by multiple of his men, he had seemingly mocked you about the injuries you had sustained. However, now he was apologizing and being sympathetic? What was this man's motive?

“Now, Daryl and Y/N, I believe?” Liam began, successfully gaining confused and guarded looks from both you and your husband.

“How the hell do ya know tha'?” Daryl barked defensively, straightening his back to appear larger—almost as if he was facing a bear.

Liam's lips twitched up into a small wicked smirk at the archer, but he very quickly disguised it with a welcoming smile. “I know a lot of things, mate.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the farmland surrounding you. “I need to know things to keep my people safe. They depend on me, you know?”

“Still doesn't answer my goddamn question,” Daryl practically growled, taking a threatening step towards the man. “How the fuck do ya know our names?”

Liam didn't falter under the Dixon man's harsh glare. If anything, he straightened his posture and met Daryl head-on, his height adding an advantage over the archer. However, having known your husband for a long time, you knew it was time to intervene before he started a fight he wouldn't be able to finish. His hands were tied and Liam had who knows how many people to back him up. The two of you were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

“Daryl,” you called to him softly, raising your tied hands to gently grip his shoulder. “I really don't think that's the thing we should be concerned about right now. It doesn't matter if he knows our names. What matters is that we have to get the fuck out of here. We do that by playing along for now,” you mumbled into his ear, quiet enough to not alert Liam of your plan.

Daryl glared at the leader of the community for a few moments longer before stepping back, sharing a determined look with you. You gave him a small smile before turning back to Liam, regarding the green-eyed man with a strained, fake smile.

“I'm sorry about him,” you began, your voice sickeningly sweet. You were taking a page out of Carol's book—you were playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, biding your time until you and Daryl could strike back. You could only hope that your earlier outburst towards Peter wouldn't be used to call your bluff. “It's just that we weren't brought here under the friendliest circumstances. And now you know our names and it's a bit creepy. He's being wary.”

“For good reason,” Liam replied with a nod, motioning for you and Daryl to follow him. You shared a look with Daryl before following behind the man, Daryl following close behind. “You can't be sure about the dangerous pricks that are out there.”

“Ironic, ain't it?” Daryl grumbled lowly, glaring at Liam through his hair as the two of you followed behind the leader. He received a slight jab to his stomach from your elbow, and he let out a soft grunt.

“You see, that's why we built this place.” Liam walked on and motioned to the fields on his left. There were multiple people working on the crops; some watering, some picking, and some planting. You couldn't be completely sure, but you swore you saw a faint glint of metal wrapped around most of the workers' legs. Were you just out of it from the pain in your head, or were those shackles?

“Well, built is the wrong word. We found this farm back when everything first went to shit. The crops and the farmhouse were luckily still standing. We... expanded, so to speak. We built the walls to keep the flesh eaters out and built more homes on the property to house our growing population.” He stopped and turned back to you and Daryl. “I hope you don't mind, but you'll have to stay in the farm house with me for the time being. We're busy building new homes but it won't be ready for another couple of weeks, maybe months.”

“Jus' one question 'fore we decide,” Daryl began, stepping forward. “Why'd ya have to bring us here by force? Why didn't ya jus' ask us to come here instead of kidnappin' us?”

Liam stared at Daryl with a blank expression on his face. His face didn't give anything away, and it unnerved you beyond belief. However, he soon gave the two of you yet another smile. You were genuinely starting to wonder if his face was starting to hurt from the excessive amount of smiling.

“There's a reason for everything, champ. However, not everyone is allowed to know my reasonings to the things I do. That's reserved for the people I trust. But do know that I did it for your own goods. Between you and me, that entire building was surrounded by flesh eaters. You most certainly would've died without my men.”

“Wha' the hell do ya know 'bout—”

“Sir? I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but Dr Miller is ready for the new arrivals,” a small, timid woman spoke up, gaining the attention of you, Daryl and Liam.

“Ah, Mariah,” Liam spoke, nodding at her in greeting. He turned back to you and Daryl, using his hand to motion towards the woman. “Please follow her to Dr Miller. He'll make sure to patch you up and ensure you're fit and ready for tomorrow.” He walked a few steps backwards and clapped his hands twice. “Welcome to Sunny Meadows! Come meet me in the farm house once you're done.”

With that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving you and Daryl alone with the woman, Mariah. The aforementioned woman turned to look at the two of you. She was nervously fidgeting with her hands, her posture slouched and her eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on you, your husband, your wounds, the ropes tying your hands together, or the ground. You were confused by her obvious fear towards you. What people was she used to dealing with? Did she really think that you were going to hurt her?

“Please follow me,” she stammered out with a nervous squeak, turning around and speeding off into the direction of the very same building those other men, Dave and Marco, had disappeared into earlier.

You hesitantly started following her. Daryl grumbled and followed your lead, glaring at any person who dared to lock eyes with him. You had to withhold your chuckles at your husband, knowing that it was neither the time nor place for that. Under normal circumstances, you'd laugh at your husband's antics. But not now. Not when your main priority was getting the hell out of that place.

You soon arrived at the makeshift medical building. You followed her in, taking in the pure doctor-like feel of the building. If you didn't know any better and somebody had blindfolded you and brought you here, you would've believed that this was a legitimate doctor's office. But you did know better.

A man, who you presumed to be this doctor Miller character everyone was talking about, placed a syringe down on the table and gave you all inviting smiles. “Welcome!” he greeted you enthusiastically—and rather loudly, too. You winced at the sound, being painfully reminded of the incessant throbbing in your skull. “You both look rather terrible. Who should I focus on first?”

“Owen,” Mariah began in a soft voice. “If I may, maybe the woman? She took quite the beating.”

“Peter?” the doctor inquired, shaking his head and sighing when Mariah nodded. “That man has sent more patients my way than any scavenging trip accident has. I don't even know why your husband still keeps him around.”

Wait, husband? Liam was Mariah's husband? Then why was he treating her like that? Why was she so scared of him? A million different possibilities ran through your mind for the obvious fear the woman held towards her husband, and none of them were good. Daryl's ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes. He visibly shared the same confusion as you. However, the doctor's orders caught your attention.

“Mariah, is it really necessary to have their hands tied? I can see the irritation from here. Please remove their binds.” Doctor Miller stopped for a moment, regarding you and Daryl with a thoughtful look. “Sir, ma'am, speaking from experience, please don't try to run or attack once those binds are removed. Whenever there's a new addition, the walls are very guarded. You'll be shot instantly.”

Mariah gingerly removed the ropes from your arms and tried to remove Daryl's. However, your husband flinched back at the foreign touch, making the woman confused. You simply gently pushed her aside and moved over to him, starting to untie his binds. This time, Daryl stood still, and in no time at all, his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists, the rope burns visible.

“Alright,” the doctor started. “Ma'am, please lay down on the bed. I'll tend to you shortly. Sir, you may take a seat on that chair next to the bed while you wait.”

You looked out of the window and weighed your options. However, the doctor wasn't lying; there were multiple guards patrolling the walls in the distance. There also were guards walking up to the makeshift medical building, most likely being sent to ensure you and Daryl didn't try anything.

You had no other option. You had to continue playing along.

You slowly walked over to the bed and laid down. Daryl hesitantly plopped himself down on the chair next to the bed, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly trying to think of an escape plan, but he wasn't succeeding.

“Alright,” Doctor Miller began, walking out of the side room and rolling a machine out with him.

You instantly knew what that machine was. “No, doctor, you can't. No, don't—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Daryl stood up from the chair and glared at the doctor, his mind instantly assuming the worst at your reaction. “The hell is tha'?”

“Sir, please relax.” Mariah walked up to the side of the bed, grabbing a tube of some sort of gel from the drawer. “We have some new equipment we've been wanting to test out. We found this ultrasound machine yesterday. We just want to test it out and make sure it works.”

Your heart stopped beating. All at once, thoughts of your unborn baby flooded your mind. You couldn't believe that you had forgotten about the fact that you were pregnant. With everything that happened, your mind neglected to remind you of that pivotal fact. And now everyone was going to know, including your husband who you had yet to tell.

“Doc, I don't think that's a good idea,” you warned him, pleaded with him, but the man didn't listen.

“Nonsense. This'll be over before you know it. It won't hurt, I promise you.”

“Ma'am, can I lift your shirt?” Too frozen to answer her, you simply stared. Deciding for you, Mariah lifted your shirt a bit and opened the tube with the gel. “This might be a bit cold.”

The cold was the least of your worries. You had taken quite the beating. What if your baby was hurt? What if your baby was dead? What if the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat? All of those thoughts flooded your mind, so much so that you barely heard Daryl talking to the doctor.

“Why does she need'a do tha'? Can't some other chick do this?”

“I was going to ask someone to come in today to test it, but she's here now. Might as well get it out of the way.” Doctor Miller started with the exam, placing the object on your stomach and moving it around. At first, the screen didn't pick up a thing, and that made you want to cry. However, the steady thumping of a heartbeat could soon be heard, and a small figure appeared on the screen.

“Oh, wow. That's a strong heartbeat,” Doctor Owen Miller told you with a smile, the ultrasound depicting a growing baby. “Congratulations, you two.”

Your heart was attempting to jump out of your chest. It was amazing to you that the little blob on the screen would soon develop into a baby, your baby. You would pick out their name and scavenge for things for your little one, and you're sure Daryl would—

Oh, god. Daryl.

Slowly looking over to your left, you locked eyes with your husband. Instead of finding the love, affection and adoration that usually swam in his ocean coloured eyes, you found something else. You found anger, shock, worry, but above all else? You could see a renewed sense of determination in his eyes.

The archer was pissed at you for hiding your pregnancy and convincing him to let you wander beyond the walls, but he couldn't think about that. He had to get you to safety, away from these monsters. He had to keep you and your unborn baby safe.

The doctor should've heeded your warning. The doctor never should've insisted to take an ultrasound. Because of doctor Owen Miller, Daryl Dixon was determined. Daryl Dixon was going to tear that whole place apart, and anyone who dared to lay a finger on you would meet an agonizing end.

The people of Sunny Meadows were going to pay.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader

I was just kinda thinking to myself... What would happen if he somehow got into contact with one of the puppeteers working on the show? Idk I just like to write what I find interesting. Lol.

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Mentions of Stalking, Idol Worshipping

🍎 The first time Wally realized what is going on, he's going to panic. Yes, Wally has been aware of the fact that he is a puppet, but he never really understood what that meant. He has always just seen it as a name for what species he is. Kind of like how humans are called humans and that caterpillars are called caterpillars. Just a word that had no implications on his free will.

🍎 However, when he sees the outside of his world... the bright lights setting the stage, the crowd of people all running around and setting things up, he is terrified. These... creatures... look so similar to his neighbor that he has seen every now and again. The only difference is that they are usually smaller and, compared to some of these versions he now sees, have no fluff on their face.

🍎 Then, he sees YOU. He recognizes you. He's seen you in the background, behind one of the smaller creatures he calls his neighbor. You sometimes even come by to check on them. What are you doing here? He doesn't know, but you are an immediate comfort amongst the strange, unfamiliar faces... Even if he doesn't know you.

🍎 Next thing he knows, you are picking him up in your warm arms and carrying him somewhere. He watches as his neighborhood slips away from him, the horrifying realization that his world is just a small little stage in it of itself. His neighbors all being taken by their own strange creatures to their own little areas.

🍎 On your way to wherever you are taking him, someone happens to pop in. Complimenting you on your love for the little puppet in your arms, the excellent care you give him when handling him, and telling you that you are surprisingly good at puppeteering for a newbie on the set. You're going to make an amazing replacement for the last guy.

🍎 Wally cannot believe his ears. What's a puppeteer? This is the first time he's heard of that word. It isn't until the odd fellow asks you to make Wally say his iconic line that he realizes what is happening. You suddenly maneuver him, making a poor impression of his voice as you force him to say "You think I'm the absolute most? You're the most to me, neighbor!"

🍎 Yes... the situation is all coming together in his mind. You must be the one behind everything! All that he does and all that he says is in your hands. All that his friends do and say should be in your hands too, right? It would make sense... If you can control him, then you can control the others!

🍎 Soon enough, you've brought Wally to a room with a little tote box near the corner. You begin checking him over, looking for rips or tears, before wrapping him in a plastic bag. Then, you place him in the box, making sure he isn't squished at all.

🍎 Left alone with his thoughts, Wally thinks about everything that has happened. This all feels too real to be a dream, as much as he sort of wishes it was. In fact, it feels more real than his life before this. He must do something, anything, but he doesn't know why. He just has to do something other than sitting in this bag inside a tote.

🍎 So, after a few hours of trying to move, he finally succeeds. He's gotten himself out of the plastic bag... Then, after a few more minutes, he hears someone return to the room. Lying limp, he watches as you open the box. Your eyes grow wide as you look down at him. You turn your head to look around the room, before crying out "Hey... Dave... Did you mess with Wally?" "Nah, (Y/N)! Why? Is something wrong?" With that, you leave to go talk to this... "Dave".

🍎 Of course, he follows. Very slowly, since he isn't used to walking in this... odd way. His legs feel weak. Like they are filled with stuffing. It is a strange feeling. He is also so incredibly cold. Why is he cold, yet, you are so warm?

🍎 He find you talking to another one of your kind. You and the other strange creatures that make up your species seem so frightened by him moving. Why is it okay for you to make him move, but not for him to move on his own? Why are they assuming someone tampered with him?

🍎 You seem most worried. How... introguing. You seem so kind compared to the rest of these odd creatures! So benevolent in your worries. The others talk about him like some sort of object, but you seem to genuinely have an attachment to him!

🍎 He wants to learn more about your kind - no... YOU in specific. He could care less about the others. You are all that really matters at the moment. If he is wrong about his assumption that you control all in his world, be it that others of your kind control his friends or whatnot, he will deal with that. For now, he can watch from a distance. When you all go, he'll be sure to learn the layout of this new land he is in. When he does, he can find you wherever you are in here. He can find out what you love and hate, what makes you tick, what makes you sad.

🍎 That sounds like a wonderful thought to him... maybe, if he leaves little gifts for you, you'll be sure to make everyday of his good. Happy parties with all of his friends, no bumps or bruises on himself or his friends, no rainy days that makes Home sad and cold... If it takes giving gifts, he'll gladly do so! You are so warm and benevolent, he would do so even if it never became fruitful for making his world perfect.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Eisenhower don't give a fuck

Barbie dolls: Dave Lizewski x gn! Also superhero! Reader

Word:3.1k

Summary: you're also a hero and find out Dave (your boyfriend) is kickass and flirt with him to see his reaction

Warnings: you have daddy issues now, you don't like orange popsicles, based on the second movie so if you haven't watched that it's probably not going to make sense, I'm not suggesting you should watch it bc I hate the romance plot in it but you do you, also insinuated that you're apart of the lgbtq+ and or an extremely passionate ally, feeling unloyal even though you aren't cheating, lots of sex jokes and mentions, you think you're weird and annoying, Marty and you are mean to each other in the friend way yk

Request: seriously stop going through my stuff

Dating Dave was actually quite enjoyable. You could geek over comics together. You sat with his friends during lunch. You scribbled in his notes before returning them, little hearts around the corners. You shared almost everything with each other. The key word there: almost.

Was being a real-life superhero easy? Fuck no. But it gave you that adrenaline rush you got from flirting with Dave so how bad could it be? Not to mention you got to prance around town in your very extremely awesome outfit. You liked it, a lot. You liked people following you on your socials. You liked seeing yourself on the news. You liked helping people and seeing the relief on their faces. You like hanging out with Kickass and all the others in Justice Forever.

Remembering Tommy were a bit of a drag all things considered, but you loved sitting down and hearing about all their life experiences. In fact, a couple of their nuggets of advice actually made you change your day-to-day.

You loved talking and working with Doctor Gravity. He made you laugh and was amazing at his side gig. He’s probably saved your life a thousand times already.

You quite enjoyed talking to Insect Man. In your free time together, you felt like you were able to shed your walls and talk to him about anything. In fact, you went with him to the pride parade in town and helped him organize a local protest.

You were often paired up with Night Bitch because according to Colonel stars and stripes: you had complimentary personalities. You liked being paired up with her because you actually grew to be friends.

Battle Guy had his funny moments. You two seemed to get along but he appeared to be quite attached to Kick-Ass. Which you didn’t mind because you had your own attachments.

To be quite frank, you had already mentally adopted Colonel Stars and Stripes as your father figure. You weren’t sure if he was aware of that. You did however know he called you peanut so maybe he did know.

Sometimes when you asked for advice from him, it sounded like something Juno would hear from her father. It sounded like a dinner, shared over the wooden dining room table, that you helped make even though you couldn’t reach the kitchen counter. It sounded like a movie with ice cream while you were decked out in his band t-shirt even though it was for an adult and you were nothing of the sort.

Every time he told you you did a good job after a night of moderate crime fighting, you felt like he just hung up your stick figures on the fridge. Though you doubted he thought of it that way. It wouldn’t be the first time a random male authority figure became your only source of validation.

Though on the Kick-Ass note, he was strange. You’d mutter an inside joke to yourself, and hear a snort come from Kick-Ass. You just assumed he was quite perceptive. When you two were left alone, there was this strange tension floating between you two. It felt like deja vu. It felt like when you visit an art museum, see a familiar face, can’t place it, and then find it in the mirror the next morning. You just hadn’t gotten to the next morning yet. He made you feel weird. You felt like you should run away from him and hide behind Dave.

You felt unloyal just knowing there was weird tension between you and Kick-Ass. Even though you apparently got along quite well. You laughed at the same jokes, even the same words in some cases. You liked the same movies and comic books. You even thought he was just as funny as Dave. Which you hated because Dave was very important to you.

Every time you laughed at Kick-Ass’ jokes you felt your heart squeeze at the thought of Dave sitting at home thinking of you. After every laugh, you both sighed heavily like you could feel the weight of something returning to your shoulders. You assumed he was thinking of his homework or some shit. It wasn’t your business but you were positive it wasn’t hypothetical infidelity.

You avoided pairing up with Kick-Ass. You didn’t even stand next to him. You didn’t want his vibes getting onto your skin. Alas, Colonel Stars and Stripes didn’t pick up on your subtlety, pairing you two together again.

Though this time was different. You two had just been wandering around, waiting for some crime to catch up with you. You mentioned your favorite movie of all time and Kick-Ass dropped possibly the best thing you had ever heard.

“Oh my god, my partner fucking loves that movie.” Ah, see most people don’t normally enjoy learning someone has a partner, you, on the other hand, loved this new piece of information. You stopped walking. Kick-ass turned back around to probably raise an eyebrow, you can’t see.

“You have a partner?” You asked, already feeling your lips peel into a grin. Kick-Ass shrugged.

“Yeah? Is that so unbelievable?” He asked, slapping his hand onto the side of his thigh. You shook your head.

“No, It’s not unbelievable.” You said. You skipped, literally, ahead. You were beaming the rest of the night. You still tried to ignore Kick-Ass during the other meeting though now with the new information you were slightly less abrasive.

One night, alike many other nights, Dave knocked on your door right as you were getting ready for bed. You raised a brow at his appearance. He was missing his glasses, and nacho cheese was smeared over his face, primarily over his eye and mouth area. Though it wasn’t in his hair or on his clothes.

“Dude, you have to stop eating so messy. It is not a good look for you.” You said, pulling the door open further.

“Someone threw nachos at me, which I am quite upset about. I wanted to kiss you once I got over here but now I have to clean my face.” Dave said, shrugging his backpack and jacket off to drop them by the door. You snorted, making the corner of Dave’s mouth tip up. He left for the bathroom. You stood in the doorway and watched him, committing the image to your memory so you could think of Dave while you were on the hunt for misbehavior. Dave glanced at you from the corner of his eye before squeezing them closed again to scrub his face with water. He pulled his head back, blowing water away from his mouth with a huff.

“Could you get my glasses and extra shirt out of my bag?” Dave asked, dipping his head back to the sink. You spun around and headed for his bag. You thought for a moment, which pocket would Dave put his glasses and extra shirt in? Of course the biggest one. You zipped it open. You paused when you were met with a plastic bag covered in red font repeating ‘Thank you’. You furrowed your brows at the sight of green peeking through the white. You pulled on the loose knot, staring down at the very iconic Kick-Ass green covered in nacho cheese. You paused and thought back on it.

Kick-Ass laughed at the inside jokes that you only made with Dave. Kick-Ass had a partner who had the same favorite movie as you. Of course Kick-Ass made you feel some weird tension because he was your fucking boyfriend. You never ever heard Dave talk bad about Kick-Ass. They had the same favorite comics, movies literally everything. You finally reached the next morning.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, glad the sink was still running so Dave couldn’t hear you.

“They should be in the front pocket, baby,” Dave called from the bathroom. You retied the plastic bag and zipped up the big pocket as fast as you could. You brought Dave his glasses and extra shirt and pretended you had no idea the whole night.

However, on the next mission, you volunteered to pair with Kick-Ass. Kick-Ass gave you a questioning look. You shrugged. Eventually, you two were off, once again wandering about. You knew you truly shouldn’t but you wanted to fuck with Dave a little.

“Hey, Kick-Ass? You said you have fucked nerve endings right? You can’t feel when people hit you?” You said, balancing the edge of the sidewalk, your arms stuck out on either side of you. Kick-ass was walking next to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

“No, you can’t slap me,” Kick-Ass responded, taking one step away from you.

“No, I was just wondering if that made it hard for you to have sex. Like does that fuck with those nerve endings?” You said blatantly, keeping your eyes on the sidewalk so you didn’t fall. Kick-ass sputtered, making you grin.

“What? No. I mean, No that’s none of your business.” Kick-Ass said, taking another step away from you. You snorted. You stopped and dropped your hands to your sides.

“You sure? ‘Cause I could help you out with that. There’s a public restroom right around the corner. Or we could just use the alley.” You said, taking a step closer to him. Dave held his hands up in surrender, leaning away from you.

“I have a partner. I am dating someone. They sexually gratify me perfectly. I am seeing someone, who I love deeply. I am severely committed.” Kick-Ass said, squeezing his eyes shut. You snorted and walked away from him, completely ignoring the fact that now your face was hot from him confessing his love.

“I’m just fucking with you Dave, don’t take me seriously. I would never fuck in an alley, that’s like STD grand central station.” You said, balancing on the edge of the sidewalk again.

“Sorry, wait, what’d you call me?” Kick-Ass asked. You kept walking, though now you thought back on your words. You grimaced when you realized you called him by his real name.

“I called you a bitch.” You said. Well done, that was perfect. No notes. Kick-Ass met your pace, walking beside you. He leaned his head to the side, trying to make eye contact with you.

“No, you didn’t. What did you call me?” He asked. You shrugged.

“You called me Dave. Why did you do that?” You stopped and met his eyes. You shrugged.

“I think we actually do need that alley now, come with me.” You split off to the nearest alley, pulling Dave into the shadows. You glanced around to make sure no one was around before yanking your mask off.

“It’s me, Dave.” Kick-Ass gasped, taking a step away from you. He spun around, his hands on his head.

“Oh my god, I’ve slept with a real-life superhero.” He muttered. He pulled his mask off, dragging his hands through his hair.

”To be fair I also had this reaction when I found out about you.” You said, shoving your mask into your belt. Dave spun back around to you, gripping your face with both his hands.

“God, you gorgeous pain in the ass. I love you so much.” He pulled you closer to him, resting his lips against yours. You reached out and tugged him closer by the green fabric pulled over his stomach. Dave groaned into your lips, slipping his hands under your arms to hold onto your back. He pulled back just enough to whisper to you.

“Stars and Stripes is going to kill us,” Dave said. You nodded against him, pushing your lips back against his.

“Stop thinking about him, think about how we’re totally going to fuck in these costumes.” You muttered. Dave’s hand found the back of your head, holding you still while he slipped his tongue past your lips.

By the time everyone did meet back at the base, you and Kick-ass were stuck together like glue. Colonel dismissed everyone, but Kick-ass’ hand shot out for Battle Guys’ arm.

“Hey Coronal, we have bad news.” You said. Colonel turned around looking between you three.

“You haven’t started selling drugs have you?” You shook your head.

“We all know each other, in real life,” Kick-Ass said. Battle Guy jerked his arm out of Kick-Ass’ hand.

“No, the fuck we don’t. I know you,” Battle Guy pointed at Kick-Ass. “Don’t know who that is.” Battle Guy pointed at you. You made a mental note to add a middle finger to Marty’s birthday card. Colonel grimaced at Battle Guy.

“Language.” Colonel pinched his brow as he looked between the three of you. “How long have you known this?”

“I’ve known since yesterday, Kick-Ass found out today. Battle Guy is apparently still behind.” You said. Colonel sighed.

“Do you hate me?” You asked, making Colonel raise an eyebrow.

“Why would I hate you?” You shrugged, feeling everyone’s eyes turn to you.

“I don’t know. I was just checking because-“

“Oh my god.” You heard Battle Guy say. You glanced over at him to see him wandering away from the line you three had formed.

“What!” You responded, following him with your eyes. He dragged his hands over his head.

“I just figured out who you are.” He said, dropping his hands to his sides. ”I recognized you from your daddy issues.” You scoffed at Marty.

“You recognized me from my daddy issues? You know what-“ You said, your voice raising. You pointed your finger at Battle Guy. Kick-ass’ hands shot out, pressing either one to you and Marty’s chest.

“Okay, okay. No fighting, there’s no point.” You sighed, dropping it. You faced Colonel again. He hummed.

“Do you know what we call this?” Colonel said, waving his hands around at you three. You shrugged, glancing at Dave to see if he knew.

“No?” Kick-ass muttered.

“Loserville party of one?” Battle Guy asked. You huffed, looking around Dave to glare at Marty. Kick-ass reached out and lightly pushed your head back.

“Not my problem. C’mon Eisenhower. Let’s allow these doofuses to solve this on their own.” Colonel replied, tugging on Eisenhower’s leash. She quickly pranced after him. You waited until you heard the door slam shut before tugging your mask off. You turned to Marty, sticking your finger in his face again.

“Fuck you, Marty. I’m setting your birthday present on fire.” You said, huffing and turning away from Marty.

“Yeah, that wasn’t necessary. We talked about how we don’t bring up parental issues anymore, Marty. There was an entire family meeting about it.” Dave said, pulling off his own mask. Marty huffed and yanked his off.

“I didn’t listen during that meeting and you know it,” Marty responded.

“Still.”

“Whatever Marty, just don’t talk about it again.” You said, pulling your mask back over your head and leaving the building.

Marty did apologize the next evening at Dave’s house. You, Marty, Todd, and Dave went over to Dave’s house every day to hang out because the time at school you had together just wasn’t enough.

You and Marty were sat outside, eating the popsicles you stole from the freezer. Dave’s dad banned everyone from eating them inside because once Marty dropped one on the couch. It's been forever sticky. So there you two were, sitting on the steps of the back porch in the dark. The dull and faded light from the living room stretched out through the glass sliding door.

“I actually am sorry, about the other night. I know sometimes I am a dick. I don’t know why I’m like that. I just am.” Marty said, taking another bit of his orange popsicle. You hummed.

“I’m the same way. Sometimes I’m just weird and annoying, I don’t know why. Just am.” You said, chomping into the blue popsicle you were holding. Marty hummed, licking down the side of his hand at the streak of melted juice. A quiet moment went by where you stared up at the dark sky and ignored the very loud sound of Marty slurping.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re annoying,” Marty said, biting into his popsicle again. You paused on your popsicle, looking over at him.

“Really?” Marty nodded, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“I mean weird, for sure-“ You shoved Marty’s shoulder.

“Oh fuck off.” You laughed, shaking your head at him. Marty snorted. You continued with your popsicle, though now your lips were tilted up.

“Also when I said Loserville party of one, I was talking about you,” Marty added, taking another bite out of his popsicle. You rolled your eyes.

“I know!”

“Just checking, 'cause you never laughed,” Marty said, tilting his head back to catch the runaway bit of popsicle.

“Yeah, it wasn’t funny.” You both sat in silence as you paused in eating your popsicle to watch Marty and his messy eating. He pulled back and glanced at you.

“So do you actually think of Colonel Stars and Stripes as your dad?” He asked, chomping again. You scoffed. You shoved his shoulder again, making him rock to the side. You finished your popsicle, licking the wooden stick. Marty was maybe two bites from finishing his. The glass door slid open. You turned back. Dave smiled at you.

“You guys coming in soon? We’re about to set up our next board game.” Dave said. Marty turned back, nodding at Dave.

“Yeah, baby.” Dave hummed and took the four steps from the door to you. He leaned down and lightly pecked your lips. He pulled back, his tongue darting it between his lips.

“Blue?” You nodded. He hummed and left, sliding the glass door behind him. Marty waited a moment, watching Dave retreat to the coffee table through the glass. You watched too although for different reasons.

“How long is Dave?” Marty asked. You gasped, smacking the last bite of popsicle out of Marty’s hand. It flipped in the air and leaned in the grass with an unsatisfying ‘thush’.

“Hey! What was that for?” Marty said, sadly looking down at the orange popsicle bite now covered in green grass.

“Potty mouth.” You said, standing up. You picked your popsicle stick off the step. Marty stood up after you, joining you at your side.

“It was ass anyway,” Marty muttered. You nodded, dragging open the glass door.

“You picked orange, I’m not sure what you were expecting.” You said, throwing your stick into the garbage. You and Marty joined Dave and Todd at the coffee table to start the game. You greeted Dave with a kiss and settled onto the floor next to him. Marty sat across from you and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I’m not answering your sick question dude!” You responded. Dave worriedly hummed.

“What’d he ask you?” Dave asked. You shook your head and patted his cheek.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

[mustainegf]

idk if uve done smth like this b4 but dave in like 84-85 and ur at a party and he's mad cause ur with kirk.. 😁 then he finally gets u two alone anddd it escalates!!! thank uuu

Young Dave is sooooo Mmm… dave at this age was pretty toxic so I tried to give that vibe

WARNINGS: Degradation, really possessive dave, dave is a little toxic, rough sex

❕ ALL SEX IS CONSENSUAL ❕

I navigated my way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for my friend Dave. He was off doing his own thing, mingling and drinking—and probably indulging in some sort of heavy drug, while I tried to find my own place in the chaos.

I eventually found myself in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and nursing a drink.

I felt a bit out of place. That's when I noticed him, a tall, lean man with long, curly black hair and a calm presence.

Kirk Hammett. The newest addition to Metallica, and Dave’s replacement in the band.

I watched him for a moment, captivated by his soft eyes. He looked up and caught my eye, a small, welcoming smile spreading across his lips.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and friendly. "Enjoying the chaos?"

I nodded, feeling a bit shy but drawn to his easy demeanor. "Yeah, it's something," I replied, trying to make myself heard over the music.

He giggled softly, a sound that seemed to cut through the noise.

"It's always like this," he said. "But it's nice to take a break and talk sometimes. I'm Kirk, by the way."

"I know," I said with a smile.

We began talking, the conversation flowing like melting butter. Kirk was charming and quite easy to talk to. I found myself finally relaxing, enjoying his company and the temporary escape from the madness.

But then out of nowhere, Dave appeared. His expression was dark, eyes narrowed as he glared at me.

I barely had time to react before he grabbed my arm and tugged me away from Kirk.

"Dave, what-" I started to say, but he cut me off, his grip tightening painfully around my arm.

"We need to talk," he hissed, pulling me through the crowd with a force that made my heart race.

I glanced back at Kirk, who looked concerned, but there was nothing he could do. Dave was determined, and I knew better than to argue with him when he was like this.

He dragged me down a hallway and shoved me into an empty bedroom, slamming the door behind us and locking it. The sudden silence was uncomfortable, the party's noise now a distant hum.

I turned to face him, my heart thudding in my chest.

"Dave, what the hell?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear growing in me.

He was fuming, his face red with anger. "What the fuck were you doing talking to Kirk?" he spat, his eyes blazing.

"Do you know who he is? He's my fucking replacement!"

I took a step back, the intensity of his anger catching me off guard.

"I was just talking to him, Dave," I said, my voice trembling. "He seemed nice, and we were just having a conversation."

"Just a conversation?" he sneered, taking a step closer. "Do you have any idea how that looks? You, talking to the guy who took my place? Do you think that’s acceptable?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the room closing in around me. "Dave, I didn't mean to upset you," I said softly, trying to calm him down. "I didn't think it would be a big deal."

He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that sent a curb in my gut. "Not a big deal?" he repeated, shaking his head. "You need to learn who you belong to."

Before I could react, he grabbed me and shoved me onto the bed, his hands rough and demanding. I gasped, the force of his actions leaving me utterly shocked.

He loomed over me, his eyes dark with fury and something else, something possessive.

"You think you can just talk to any guy you want?" he growled, his hands gripping my wrists and pinning them above my head. "You need to remember who owns you."

I trembled beneath him, a jumble of fear and arousal flooding my senses. There was something so sexy about his dominance. Despite the fear, I could feel the heat building between my legs, my body responding eagerly.

"I'm sorry, Dave," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to make you angry."

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You'll be sorry," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to."

He released my wrists, only to tear at my clothes, his hands rough and unyielding.

I whimpered, the sound escaping my lips as he stripped me bare, he did it with such ease, as if he’d imagined tearing my clothes off hundreds of times before.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So fuckin’ sexy. All mine."

“Do you want this baby? I won’t do it if you don’t want me to,” he whispered, squeezing my thigh.

“Keep going, I want it Dave, I want it,” I begged.

He didn't give me a chance to say any more before his hands were ravaging me again, his grip harsh. And I liked it.

He grabbed my hips, flipping me over so that I was on my hands and knees, my body trembling. I could feel his breath hot against my skin.

I was a little nervous to have my pussy perched up and at his full display, but by the growl that seemed to tumble from his throat, he was enjoying it.

"You're going to take everything I give you," he growled, his hand coming down hard on my ass, the sting making me gasp. "You're going to beg for it."

"Please," I whimpered, my body aching for more. "Please, Dave, I need you.”

"Good girl," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're going to take it all."

I heard the sound of his zipper, I couldn’t believe this was happening, Dave was really going to be inside of me. I could hardly believe it, or wait, I wanted it so bad.

He grabbed my hips, positioning himself at my entrance, the tip of his cock teasing me, making me moan.

"Tell me who you belong to," he demanded, his grip tightening on my ass.

"You," I gasped, my voice trembling. "I belong to you, Dave."

"That's right," he growled, thrusting into me with no warning, making me cry out. "You're mine."

He didn't hold back, his thrusts hard and fast, each one making me clench and squirm. I could feel the heaviness of his anger in every movement, the way he took me with such dominance.

It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and I could feel myself getting lost in the rough sex.

"You're going to take everything I give you," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You're going to beg for it."

"Please," I whined, my body trembling with need. "Please, Dave, I need more."

He laughed, a dark and wicked sound. "That's right," he said, his thrusts becoming even more forceful, somehow. "You're mine. Say it."

"I'm yours," I gasped, my voice raw and raspy. "I'm yours, Dave. Please, I need you."

"That's right," he sneered, his voice dripping with pure venom.

"And don't you ever forget it. I'm not some replacement like Kirk. I'm the real deal. He could never make you feel like this, could he?"

"No," I whimpered, my body trembling with the force of his hips. "Only you, Dave. Only you can make me feel like this."

"Exactly," he growled, his cock becoming even more demanding. "Kirk could never fuck you like this. He could never own you like I do."

I begged, the pleasure and humiliation combining in a way that left me hornier than ever.

"You belong to me," he said in a low growl. "No one else. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whimpered. "Yes, I understand. I'm yours."

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," I moaned, my body on the edge of release. "Please, Dave, I need to cum."

"Then cum for me," he commanded, his thrusts becoming uneven. "Cum for me, and remember who you belong to."

With a final, desperate moan, I came, my body shivering with my orgasm. It was probably the best feeling I’d ever had.

Dave didn't stop, his hips relentless, scooping out my pleasure until I was a trembling, boneless mess.

He followed mere seconds later, his grip tightening on my hips as he came with a low, guttural growl.

I felt my insides warm up, gushing full of his hot and sticky seed.

The room was filled with the sounds of our ragged breaths, the air foggy with the scent of sex and sweat.

We collapsed onto the bed, our bodies tangled together, both of us sated. Dave pulled me into his arms, his touch surprisingly gentle in the aftermath of our not so gentle encounter.

"You're mine," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Always remember that."

"Mmhm," I whispered, my voice laced with exhaustion. "I'm yours, Dave. Always."

[kaunis-sielu]

Best Worst Blind Date Ever

You really read this one wrong. He’d seemed so kind, so charming when you’d been texting but now, now he’s terrible.

Dave hasn’t let you talk, he’d tried to order for you, then he had ordered you a new drink at the bar without asking. He’d been annoyed when you hadn’t touched it, but you also hadn’t asked for it.

“So, you always this quiet?” He asks over another bite of food.

“Um, no.” You say, “I’m going to run to the bathroom, excuse me.” You tell him putting your napkin on the table and standing. You’ll hopefully be able to catch your waitress on your way and ask her for some help. You’ve got a bad feeling that telling this asshole that you’re not interested isn’t going to go well.

You spot her standing near the bar and murmur,

“I might need some help leaving.”

“I was going to ask.” She says, “if you do, put your water glass on the left side of your plate.”

“Thank you.” Knowing that you have a plan is a huge relief. You go to the bathroom and when you come out Dave is looking annoyed.

“What did you say to the waitress?”

“Just told her we’d probably be ready for the checks soon.”

“Check. I’m paying here.”

“Here?” You’re confused, it’s already 9:30 and you’re really not interested in prolonging this date.

“Yea, we’re going to my favorite bar for a couple drinks then we can go back to my place.”

“Oh, um, no thank you. I have plans in the morning so I need to get going.” His face hardens and you pick up your water glass then take a sip and place it on the left side of your plate.

“Wow. You’re such a tease.” He sneers and you go into your purse. You take out a tube of chapstick and swipe some on trying to keep your cool.

“Hey Sweetheart. I hope it’s okay that Wanda told me you were here.” A deep voice says from behind you. When you glance up at him you’re stunned by the man standing behind you.

“Who the fuck are you?” Your oh so charming date snaps,

“I’m Steve, her ex. Hopefully not for much longer. Can we talk?” The god of a man lies smoothly.

“Yea.” You manage to say and before you can move your date grabs your arm.

“What the hell. Our date isn’t over.”

“No, it’s over.” You tell him trying to pull your arm from his grasp.

“You’re going to want to let her go.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because this is assault.” Steve says flashing a badge that sits on his hip.

“Fuck.” Your arm is dropped like you’re on fire and you stand, dropping some money on the table for your meal.

“Don’t call me again.” You tell Dave stalking away with Steve at your back.

“Why don’t you sit with me for a while. Did you drive yourself here?” He offers and you meet Wanda’s eyes. She gives you a wide smile and a little nod.

“I took a ride share. I didn’t want him knowing what car I drive or where I live.”

“Smart.” He says gesturing to two empty stools and you slide onto the seat. “I never did get your name Sweetheart.” He says with a smile, you tell him and he nods.

“Thank you for the rescue.”

“Part of the job description.” He says with a wide grin, “but it doesn’t hurt when my sister calls for back up. She’s usually one that will take on anyone, so when she asked for help I knew something was off.”

“I’m glad she did, he seemed so nice on the app.”

“I’m sorry he turned out to be an ass.”

“I don’t think I am.” You tell him looking up at him through your lashes and you see him grinning down at you.

“No?”

“Nah.” You shift your body closer to his and he moves closer to you, one of his legs on either side of yours. It’s a far too intimate position to be in with a man you just met but with your former date stewing in the corner of the bar you can’t risk him knowing it was all a lie.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“Sweetheart, your whole body just tensed up.”

“He’s still here. In the corner and looks furious.”

“He moves this way you let me know.” Steve tells you and you nod, “I’ve got you Honey.”

“Thank you.” You tell him leaning closer, “So, you’re a cop?”

“A Captain now.”

“Wow, congratulations.” He seems young for a Captain at least from your experience in cop shows.

“We had a huge overhaul and things got kind of, messy.” He says, “I was the last Sargent standing.”

“That sounds so stressful. I’m sorry.” You tell him and he rests a hand on your knee,

“This okay?” Since Dave is still watching you give Steve a smile,

“Yea.” And surprisingly it is okay having his big, warm hand on your knee.

You almost forget that you’re being watched. Steve is so sweet, so easy to talk to and honestly so fucking hot.

“Slut.” Is hissed at you as Dave walks past, well, stumbles past you. You ignore him and he does it again, “you’re a fucking slut.”

“Ignore him Sweetheart.” Steve murmurs and you hold tightly the edge of the bar, “let him bury himself.” He says into your ear and your heart pounds. God he’s got you all twisted up in the very best way. Steve stands suddenly and steps in the sight line of Dave, blocking you from his view. You look up at Steve with wide eyes and he smiles down at you.

“I’m gonna kiss you Sweetheart.”

“Yes.” You whisper and Steve’s mouth descends on yours. His fingers gently brush your cheek before delving into your hair to better angle your head to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away Steve grins down at you, you blink up at him before a smile crosses your face.

“So, not an ex anymore?” He teases and you laugh softly,

“I don’t think so.” You tell him and he grins, “why did we break up in the first place?”

“I worked too much.” He says, “but I promise I’ll do better if you promise to communicate your needs.”

“Okay.” You see him look back toward the door the pull out his phone. He puts the phone to his ear,

“Buck. 10-51, leaving Post now, south on Main, red Dodge Charger, not sure on the plate.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket and smiles at you, “sorry about that.”

“What’s a 10-51?”

“Drunk driver. Bucky is my second in command and will let dispatch know so that you and I can enjoy our evening.”

“Wanna get out of here?” You ask and he grins, “I’m in the mood for ice cream.”

“That’s a great idea.” He agrees and you slip off the stool you’ve been sitting on, Steve gently guides you in front of him and you lead him out of Post. Once you’re on the street you reach over and take his hand, he turns you gently then kisses you again.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked.” He says after pulling away from you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay. I, kissing you is nice.” He hums softly,

“I’m glad, because I agree completely.” Steve gives your hand a squeeze, “now, I believe I owe you some ice cream.”

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @annielr @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @wonderlandfandomkingdom @patzammit @abschaffer2 @capsiclesdoll @killcomet @sass-masterkittenmama

[palioom]

snow angels

summary: who knew that clearing the driveway of fresh snow could be fun?

pairing: dave york x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; public/semi-public sex; fingering; leg humping; established relationship

a/n: follow @palioomfics for updates // banners by @saradika

• masterlist •

Winter wonderland.

It was the only way to describe what it looked like outside, their yard and driveway and everything beyond covered in several inches of snow. Looking too perfect almost, fluffy and a brilliant white.

Their kids were still asleep when she went outside with Dave to try and at least clear the driveway a little. He had insisted on doing it alone, ever the gentleman and insisting she stay inside with a hot cocoa, that she could watch him as he worked. But she liked doing this with him, shovelling snow onto the sides so there was a way to their front door.

He would be inside much quicker too, so they could cozy up on the sofa in the living room before the girls would inevitably drag them outside to play.

It was fun, too, in a way. At least once she was halfway done with her side, ignoring her cold, aching fingers inside of her thick gloves. She decided to pick up some snow, forming it into a ball before throwing it at him. The snowball hit Dave square in the back, leaving a white patch and she giggled. Dave turned around to her, his eyebrow raised but the smallest tug of a smile on the corner of his lips.

“It wasn’t me.” She laughed, breath coming out in white clouds, wafting up into the crisp December air.

Putting on her most innocent pout and look, Dave was almost willing to believe her, but he could see right through, noticing the sparkle in her eyes.

He laughed when he turned back around, continuing to shovel snow out of the way. “Oh, of course, honey. It just fell from the sky.”

“That’s what snow usually does, yeah.”

Shaking his head with a small chuckle, they continued, until another snowball hit him, this time right between the shoulder blades. It didn’t hurt, but some of the snow splattered and fell right into the small space between his thick jacket and the fluffy scarf around his neck.

When he turned, he found her still shovelling snow, humming along to some song, clearly trying to look busy. He could see the cheek of her apple from how hard she was smiling, knowing she was holding back her laugh.

And she looked more than adorable as she whistled, not noticing that Dave was putting down his own shovel in favour of picking up some of the fresh, powdery snow. Slowly and quietly he made his way over to her, hoping the snow wouldn’t crunch under his feet as he walked, the smile widening on his face the closer he got to her.

Just as she was about to turn around to him, Dave covered her face with the icy snow, rubbing his hand over her face to really rub it all in while a high-pitched sound escaped her, a cross between a laugh and a scream. His free arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her back into his strong chest, laughing with her as she struggled to get away from him.

“Babe, stop!” She gasped, still laughing as she fought against his tight grip. All of her tiredness was definitely gone now, the snow waking her up as it stung in her face. Some of it dropped into the front of her jacket, melting on her heated skin and leaving an icy trail behind. “Dave!”

“So you can throw more snowballs at me, sweetpea?” Dave laughed, sliding around a little on the icy ground below them, finally wrapping both arms around her middle to keep her crushed against him.

He liked this, liked the small moments before he had to leave again and travel around for his jobs.

Turning her around in his arms while still maintaining his grip on her, he pressed his lips against hers. They were icy and wet from the snow and she gasped into his mouth, forgetting her fight for just a moment. Chasing the warmth of his lips as he pulled back, then trying to free herself.

“Let me go!” She giggled, her feet slippery on the ground. “You’re paying for th-”

Before she could finish her sentence, her feet slipped from underneath her body, falling right into the pile of snow behind her and taking Dave down as well with how tightly she gripped his jacket. He was heavy on top of her, and for a moment they both went quiet, Dave’s eyes wide as he looked down into her face.

Then, they both broke into loud laughter, first her and then him as well.

“You alright, honey?” He asked, his gloved hand coming up to brush some hair and snow from her face. Still looking for any sign she had hurt herself while falling and ignoring the own pain that bloomed in his knees.

“Mhmm.” She hummed while nodding, a big smirk breaking on her face.

Before Dave knew it, his face was covered in snow as well, all while she laughed heartily, trapped below his broad body.

“Mrs. York is a feisty one today.” He commented, pinning her wrists into the snow, lips slotting over hers again.

The cold was biting at them, especially now laying in the snow, but the kiss was warming them right back up again, growing more passionate as they continued. Blood boiling hot, Dave’s knee, which rested between her legs, brushed up against her heated core, making her moan softly.

It was like a switch had been flipped, their task forgotten as Dave felt his dick twitch in his pants, his kisses more demanding, his knee pressing against her again. He loved those moans, and right now he really wanted to hear more of them, letting go of one of her wrists to pull his glove off with his teeth.

Her eyes followed his hand as he let it vanish between them, his thick fingers swiftly finding a way into the front of her pants. They were icy as one slipped between her already wet folds, nudging against her clit and making her moan louder.

“Babe, the kids, the neighbours-” She whispered urgently, hoping no one could see what they were doing with how they were laying. The small pile of snow obstructed some of the view, and their car might spare them the glances of their neighbours from across the street. “What if they- oh, fuck.”

Dave only smirked, the thrill of possibly being seen by their neighbours making this so much more exciting as he pressed his finger down harder on the small bundle of nerves.

“No one’s gonna see.” He hushed, then pressed his lips against hers, tongue slipping into her mouth when another small noise left her.

The icy temperature of his finger in contrast to his warm mouth helped to build her up swiftly, Dave’s own hips rutting against her thigh – the hard bulge able to be felt even through her thick pants.

“Dave-” His name came out in a weak whine, his fingers finding her dripping entrance and teasingly pressing against it. The cold was nearly gone at this point, the heat of her pussy warming his hand right back up.

A damn shame, because she already missed the sensation of them, wondering what it would feel like when he pressed inside of her aching, wet hole.

Maybe this was something they could explore. In a different setting, of course.

“I know, sweetpea.” He replied, his fingers pressing into her, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. Unable to stop his own hips from rutting against her leg, a moan escaped him, muffled against the corner of her mouth.

He’d much prefer to be inside her wet pussy that was currently dripping all over his thick fingers as he thrust into her, but if humping against her leg was all he could get right now, he would.

The heel of his palm perfectly pushed against her clit as he pumped his fingers faster, scissoring and curling them inside of her. Her gloved fingers curled into his thick jacket, her moans muffled still.

From inside the house she was sure she could hear their girls, excitedly screaming about the snow, then the loud thudding of little feet on the stairs.

“Dave-” She whined again, her eyes wide as she looked at him, suddenly torn between needing him to get her off and needing him to stop entirely before the girls saw them. “Oh, fuck-”

The coldness didn’t even bother her anymore, too damn hot in these thick clothes that she just wanted to rip them off, every press of his fingers against that sweet spot making it worse. All while his hard cock brushed over her thigh again and again, Dave’s movements speeding up.

His eyes were on the door of their house, his laboured breaths forming white clouds in the chilly air. So damn close to spilling himself in his snow pants, grinding down harder against her while his fingers worked faster.

“C’mon, honey.” He whispered, his dark eyes darting down to hers again, taking in the thin layer of sweat and her knitted eyebrows. “I can feel her gripping me, cum on my fingers, honey.”

Grinding the heel of his palm into her clit harder, she clamped down around his thick fingers, the moans that left her mouth so loud that he had to shut her up with his own. His hips stuttered against her leg, his cum wetting Dave’s underwear as he came with a low grunt.

Somehow knowing that her husband couldn’t wait and humped her leg only made this hotter, breathing heavily when he parted from her and whining at the loss of his fingers.

Dave pulled back just in time, their daughters opening the door and running out with loud giggles. Barely dressed appropriately for the weather and stopping when they saw their parents still laying in the snow.

“Mom, dad! We were looking for you!” Their younger daughter yelled, hopping down the stairs and landing in the fluffy snow. “What are you doing?”

Dave chuckled, moving to help his wife up with a smile.

“We were just having some fun of our own, sweetie.” He said, patting off his own clothes, then giving his wife a look which made her laugh. “Making snow angels.”

Walking over to the kids, he picked up their younger daughter, ready to carry her back inside again. They both were missing their scarves and knowing them, they only threw on their jackets over their pyjamas.

“Now let’s get you two monsters dressed so you can play, too.”

She just looked after them for a moment, watching Dave ruffle the hair of the older girl who was reluctantly going back inside with him.

Looking down, she felt hot again as she saw the imprint they had both made in the snow, the driveway still halfway covered with it.

Snow angels.

That must have been the most enjoyable way to make them, and she couldn’t wait to make more of these specific ones some other time.

[ms--lobotomy]

5th fic in 4 (?) days? I'm so normal. I'm so normal. I'm so normal. Aaah [Previous] [Next]

Summary: Your first day of work after you start feeling a funny way about the funny merman.

Word Count: 1257

Content Warnings: car dependent infrastructure, Typhus existing again, cliffhanger

Image Credit: @squishyowl

Your fingers drummed on the steering wheel as your playlist looped back around to that song. You couldn't close your eyes, not now, but your heart beat faster in your chest as you remembered how he held you, the beat of his hearts against your face. It's just fascination, you told yourself. You haven't even known each other for a week.

You pulled into the employees' parking lot before you found a spot, cut Dave Grohl off mid-word, and got out of the car.

"Sorry, Dave," you mumbled as you locked it.

You speedwalked towards the door, going through all the familiar motions of clocking in. You looked at the time. Two minutes late. You sighed as you checked in with the baby turtle. It was a green sea turtle, but the babies were more black or dark brown than anything. You bent down to look at it. The tank was very small, but the little one didn't seem to mind it. After a few moments of swimming, it settled on the bottom. The corners of your lips quirked up before you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned around. It was Typhus.

"Hey," he said casually. "Oh, you found the Nurgling?"

"The what?"

Typhus chuckled. He came in close to you, and you backed away slightly. "I call him the Nurgling," he said, looking down at the tiny sea turtle. "I don't know if it's going to be his name, it's a bit of an in-joke I have with someone. Haven't given him a nametag yet, either. First thing I'm going to do today. How's the merman?"

"Oh," you said, slightly taken aback before remembering that he was there too. "He's doing... better than expected. I showed him some of my music, and he seemed to like it. I hope, at least?"

"Alright, okay," said Typhus, nodding slightly. "Didn't know that one of the first things you'd do when you found a merman was to show him dad rock. But to each their own."

"Why, what would you do?"

"I'd show him Slipknot, personally," he shrugged.

You let out a slight laugh, turning to walk away before he continued.

"I think someone should check up on him," he said. He was much taller than average, reaching almost 7 feet standing. "Don't you think?" He moved a little closer to you, and you backed away, but you were getting precariously close to the wall. Shit.

"I mean, I would like to get to know Stella better," you mumbled. You tried to walk away, but he shifted in front of you.

"Aren't they so busy, though?" he asked, turning up his nose a little bit. "I don't have anything going tonight, and I'd hate to get in the way of anyone's activities. Besides," he said, "all of us found the merman. It's all of our duty to look after him, right?" His leg was almost between yours, and you shrunk back even further.

"Excuse me, what the actual fuck are you doing?" asked the girl with the brown ponytail.

"Maya, it's not what it looks like--" said Typhus, backing away.

Maya was around 5 feet tall at most, but she looked at Typhus with nothing less than fury in her hazel eyes. "Back off, Typhus. Now." Her hands were clenched into fists, with only the chipped nail polish on her thumb showing, but her tone was more akin to scolding a disobedient dog.

Typhus looked at her, then at you before backing away slowly. "Guess we should get back to work," he muttered before turning tail and heading towards one of the animals in need of rehabilitation.

"I'll say," said Maya, glaring at him before she turned back to you. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you're going to have to stand up for yourself one of these days," she said, in a tone low enough that Typhus couldn't hear. "I know we're coworkers, but I care about you. And I hate to see this... asshole get in your face when you clearly don't want it."

You paused, shuffling your feet before steeling yourself. "I'll do my best," you mumbled.

"You said that last time," said Maya, raising an eyebrow.

"Alright," you sighed. "Alright, I'll try for real this time."

"Thank you," she replied, moving off to her next post. You stood there for a moment, hands over your stomach. You grabbed your index and middle finger with your dominant hand before heading off to your post and starting the workday for real.

...

The workday ended in due time, slow and steady. Most of it was spent in the breakroom when not checking in on the animals and feeding them. Typhus was gone from the picture for much of it, gods know where. You said your goodbyes to the group before getting back into your car, and your playlist was back where you'd left it. You sighed, putting your head on the steering wheel.

Alright, you reasoned with yourself, you need to go home. You have a merman to attend to.

The song finished, and you showed up at your house soon enough. You didn't even enter through your front door, instead beelining to the back. Mortarion looked up at you, his tail swishing in the water, before he swam to the side of the pool.

"How was... work?" he asked. "Do pardon me, I am still learning your species' nomenclature."

"Work is the right word," you said, kneeling next to him. "I do hope you didn't get too lonely, Mortarion.."

"I endure," he said, looking up at you. You took off your socks and shoes and left them by the side of the pool before you looked down at your pants.

"Is something wrong with your pants?" Mortarion asked.

"I..." you started. "So, humans wear pants underneath their pants. Most of the time, at least? And it's a bit uncouth in our culture to show them. Uh..." you started, blushing. "Man. I'm too tired to go upstairs and change. Is it okay if I show you the... garments under my pants?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it," Mortarion shrugged before you tugged off your pants. You took your phone and keys out of your pocket, and put them on the glass table by your pool before dipping your legs into the pool again. Mortarion looked away, before he looked back up at your face.

"You're beautiful," he said, before tensing up. You heard a car pull into your driveway, and you tensed up too.

"I'm not expecting anyone," you said, getting up quickly. "Please. Hide?" you asked.

"You don't exactly had a huge pool," he grumbled, submerging himself.

You entered through the back door, and looked out front. The car was... familiar, though you couldn't put your finger on where it was from. Hurriedly, you looked for something to put around your waist before you found a blanket on your couch and draped it over you as quick as you could. And then you saw the person coming out of the car.

It was Typhus.

Part of you was relieved that it wasn't a fed or anything, but it was Typhus. You rushed back towards Mortarion, towards your backyard, as he made his way through the gate. He shut the wooden thing with a quiet thud, as his eyes darted to you. You shifted the blanket over your legs, glad that it was covering quite a bit.

"I..." you started, your fists balling up. You looked to your feet. "I didn't invite you here."

Taglist: @bispecsual@justeverythingnothingelse@bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae@historitor-bookshelf

[marta-diablo]

‘Noel and Julian were possibly aroused’: The Mighty Boosh turns 20 – in pictures

 ‘Something magic happens when they get together’

While filming the surreal comedy, Dave Brown AKA Bollo was on hand with a camera to snap awkward kisses, creepy venues … and crack foxes ordering pie and mash

Tony & Dennis (Series 3 – The Strange Tale of the Crack Fox, 2007)

Dave Brown: ‘Lunchtime on set was a feast for the eyes. It was always a treat seeing cast members milling about munching on a jacket potato with ridiculous full face of makeup, asking for more cheese on their beans. Here, Noel Fielding (Tony Harrison) and Julian Barratt (Dennis the Head Shaman) pose for a quick shot before tucking into their pasta bake. Behind the Boosh 20, an exhibition by Boosh cast member Dave Brown AKA Bollo, is at the pop-up Behind the Gallery, London, 10-13 October. All photographs Dave Brown

Up on the Roof (Series 3 – Party, 2007)

‘During a particularly long scene, Noel and Julian look a little nervous and possibly slightly aroused as they contemplate their upcoming big kiss scene. I love the light and composition of this shot’

Tony & Saboo (Series 3 – Eels, 2007)

‘This was a particularly special scene. On Head Shaman Dennis’s stag do, Saboo rubs sun cream into Tony Harrison’s smooth pink crease, saying: “Don’t leave it in thick blobs, rub it in. Factor seven?! Shit off! I need factor 67 you ball bag!” It was always a hilarious pleasure to witness Noel and Richard Ayoade riffing off of each other in scenes, kinda like jazz, but jazz on bikes. Two very funny humans in ridiculous costumes at the top of their game, trying to out laugh each other with hilarious absurdities’

Luna Looks (Luna Park, Melbourne comedy festival, 2001)

‘Noel throws me his best blue steel look beneath the giant face of Luna Park as I lie on the pavement among the chewing gum and cigarette butts trying to get the angle. Melbourne festival was always very special, such an amazing city with brilliant crowds’

Come Play With Us (Aberdeen Future Sailors Tour, Press and Journal Arena, 2008)

‘The last gig of an insane tour. A strange place to end things after 99 dates that included Brixton, Wembley, Manchester and Sheffield but still, it was a great gig. Rich Fulcher was doing his usual dicking about pre-show in the corridors, grooving to tunes, practising his fossil moves. As I walked around the corner he was at the end and the blue suit reminded me of the Shining twins. I took two shots of him stood holding his own hand then comped them together. Way more terrifying than Kubrick’s version’

Hitcher Nabootique (Series 3 – Eels, 2007)

‘Loved this set: the sign, the lighting and one of my favourite characters, the Hitcher. Him walking up to the door in the rain was just a perfect moment to capture. All undercut by the ridiculous graffiti. Not sure why “loose change” makes me laugh so much, it’s one of those perfect examples of Noel and Julian’s writing and their way with language’

Noel Draws (Noel’s House during the Future Sailors Tour, 2008)

‘I spent many an evening pre-tour and sometimes during tour, in my flat or at Noel’s place, scribbling artworks for tour posters, DVDs, the book. The two of us produced all of that material. Old art school mates getting busy with the fizzy. We could draw those Boosh faces in our sleep, which became a bit of a problem some nights on tour in posh hotels’

Moody Naboo (Series 3 – Journey to the Centre of the Punk, 2007)

‘Naboo was indeed an enigma. Often found gazing into the middle-distance meditating deep astral conundrums, solving some of the world’s biggest problems and answering those age-old impossible questions like what flavour Pot Noodle he was going to have later when watching Columbo. Here is one of those moments in-between scenes shooting series three in a warehouse in a disused Ministry of Defence site somewhere in Surrey’

Foxy Man (Series 3 – The Strange Tale of the Crack Fox, 2007)

‘One of my favourite characters: those two voices, the laugh, the costume and makeup, terrifyingly hilarious! This is me capturing Julian just after lunch break walking back on set. It was a wonderful vision seeing the Crack Fox stood upright on two legs by the catering van ordering pie and mash from a visibly disturbed catering assistant, all while the real hungry Hackney crack foxes looked on through distant bushes in awe and jealousy’

Fossil Faces (Series 3 Rehearsals – American International Church, London, 2007)

‘Rich isn’t really acting in The Boosh. The character Bob Fossil is 92.4% Fulcher. A force of nature, he will crush any down moment anyone is having with his comedy fists and have you wetting your little blue pants in a hot minute. These shots were taken during rehearsals for series three in the American church on Tottenham Court Road in London. It was a pretty intense afternoon with some writing issues and a few moody clouds brewing. Then Rich provides these six faces and everyone’s laughing again’

Hippy Boosh (Series 2 – The Call of the Yeti, 2005)

‘Vince, Parsley and Naboo in full Polyphonic Spree get-up in front of the big blue studio 11 doors at 3 Mills Studios in east London. We’d just been shooting the song scene in Call of the Yeti and I was still in my Bollo suit. It always amused me when cast and crew from other shows filming at 3 Mills would walk past and assume this show had a Gorilla as the official set photographer’

Bendelack Directing (Pilot Episode –Tundra, Pinewood Studios, 2003)

‘Steve Bendelack directed loads of our favourites: Lee and Herring, Newman and Baddiel, League of Gentlemen. So when he was directing the pilot episode of Arctic Boosh at Pinewood Studios it was a pinch-me moment. Paul King took over from Steve when the first series was commissioned by the BBC. Steve was no doubt busy on something else. Or maybe he swerved it? Stewart Lee, who directed Noel and Julian in the Arctic Boosh stage show for the Edinburgh fringe in the late 90s, said it was like ‘trying to direct smoke’

Mutant Readers (Series 1 – Mutants, 3 Mills Studios, 2004)

‘Mike [Fielding] having some down time in his dressing room sipping on a brew and glancing across at a coupon for 10p off Monster Munch. Two trained thespians sit beside him on the smallest sofa in Europe; one reads a crime novel and an unshaven Pete from Dixons in the middle reads about how Bolton are on the brink’

Graffiti (Series 3 – The (Power of the) Crimp, 2007)

‘I’ve known Noel for over 30 years and Julian for over 25. Something magic happens when those two get together. They’re one of the great double-acts. It was never easy getting a decent shot of them together. Noel on his own was easy; he’d spot a camera lens a mile away in heavy fog. Julian, on the other hand, was usually eating, talking, squinting those already tiny eyes or hiding somewhere in a cabinet. I love these two nincompoops like brothers’

x

[pedropascalsx]

Gif by me.

Kinktober: Day Eight: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die.

Dave York x F! Reader.

Warnings: Dub-con due to sex pollen.

Summary: You inhale a mystery powder on a job.

Word count: 1489

Thanks again to @absurdthirst for her incredible prompt list 🩵

The building is eerily quiet, the supposed party that’s happening on the second floor is either a blow out or you’ve been given the wrong day. Still your feet climb the stairs and you make your way towards the banquet hall with your boss on your heels.

He says nothing and it makes you feel more uneasy, and the expression etched on his face doesn’t help. He’s pissed. This is clearly a setup or a waste of time, but neither of you can leave until you check to see if your target is on site.

As you approach the door, Dave steps in front of you, signalling for you to unstrap the pistol attached to your upper thigh. His fingers fan out around the doorknob and he twists it open revealing an empty room and you both sigh.

He slams the door behind you both as you step into the room and you notice the envelope with his name taped to the wall. “Dave,” you call out, before signalling to the envelope.

“Open it,” he snarls, “It’ll be McCall. Taunting me. Letting me know he’s always one step ahead.”

You nod before taking a few steps towards the wall and pull it off, opening it immediately and falling into a fit of coughs as a plume of powder breaks free from the envelope hitting you in the face.

“Fuck,” you splutter, before throwing down the envelope and attempting to cough up the powder you’ve already inhaled, not noticing him run up behind you, and pick up the envelope himself.

“At least one of us had the sense to put on gloves,” you say, as you notice him examining the white powder and trying to ignore the fire starting to burn in your veins.

“It’s potent,” you murmur, as it starts to intensify, “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

“No, it’s not,” Dave says matter of factly, with a snarl and a flash of his teeth. “We need to get back and find out whatever the fuck this is.” He reaches out and grabs your arm, leading you back towards the door and hurrying you downstairs and out the building.

By the time you reach his car, your whole body is burning, your limbs are tingly and you’re soaked in between your legs. “Fuck, Dave,” you murmur, as an uncomfortable need starts to rip through you, an arousal so strong that it’s painful.

“This wasn’t McCall,” he growls, “This isn’t his style.” The engine roars to life and Dave seems unaware of your predicament, “Whatever you’ve inhaled Ari will be able to identify it and we can reverse it or sit with you as you ride it out.”

You writhe uncomfortably in your seat, squeezing your thighs together desperately to get a little bit of friction and some relief from the fire that’s burning there. “Dave,” you whimper, as he speeds towards the safe house, “It fucking hurts.”

“Where does it hurt?” He asks, still focusing on the road.

“Ev-everywhere, but uh, fuck,” you moan, cutting yourself off with a cry as he rounds the street corner and pulls up to the safe house.

“Come on,” he orders, as he swings open his car door and starts running up the stairs towards the house. You groan loudly before stepping out and following him, almost keeling over as you reach the front door and the burning in your stomach becomes too much to bear.

“How much did she inhale?” Ari asks, as you finally step into the house, arms clutching your stomach.

“Not much,” you answer for Dave, “But it was like a cloud of smoke, I moved away before I could take a big inhale.

“Go to your room,” Dave orders, as you become more and more unsteady. “We will let you know what it is.”

**

Peeling off your dress you cringe at the amount of slick that has dripped down your legs, your panties soaked with your arousal as it continues to burn in your veins. “What was that shit?” You murmur to yourself, before throwing yourself on the bed and slipping your fingers between your legs to start to work away some of your need.

The relief is almost immediate, your bundle of nerves crying out with pleasure the second you press your fingers to it. You close your eyes and let yourself fantasize about Dave, as you find yourself doing most nights, and in no time you’re biting your lip to stop yourself crying out loudly in pleasure.

For a few moments you relish in your orgasm, letting yourself come down and exhaling as the burning seemingly dies out. But after just a few seconds the fire is back, and more intense than before, ripping through you like wildfire and sending your pleasure receptors into overdrive. You slip your fingers back between your legs and rub your clit as fast as you can, desperately working your bud to quench the thirst you feel like you’re dying of.

**

“It’s a type of pollen,” Ari tells Dave, “It’s used primarily in sex clubs where they have people to monitor its users, because it can kill you. The trick is to not engage with it,” he says with a shrug, “It wears off pretty quickly as long as you don’t get your heart rate pumping, but if you do, it can last for hours.”

“Shit,” Dave cusses, “It makes people… aroused?” He asks, with a rise of his brows. “I guess I'll let her know.”

“Yeah,” Ari murmurs, “Whoever left that for you to find, figured you’d be alone and wouldn’t be able to fight off the effects by yourself.”

Dave nods, and makes his way to the door, hurrying out and towards your bedroom and pushing open the door without knocking.

**

“Fuck.” He grunts, as he catches you rocking against your hand, tears dripping down your face as you try to work yourself through it.

“It won’t stop,” you cry to your boss, “Whatever it is, it won’t stop.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, surprisingly softer than you’re expecting, before walking towards you. Your fingers are still working their magic as he does, “You’re going to rub yourself raw.” He tuts, “It’s sex pollen. I’ll explain later, but you’re not going to be able to fight in by yourself.”

You whimper as he gently touches your legs and asks, “Can I help?”

Silently you nod your head ferociously as he drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around the backs of your legs and pulling you closer to him.

The first swipe of his tongue feels like heaven, he’s meticulous with every motion he makes as he focuses on your clit. After a few dozen flicks of his tongue, he pushes his fingers inside your dripping hole, fitting two with ease and curling them up against the spongy spot.

It doesn’t take long until you’re cumming on his face, rocking your hips up and tangling your fingers in his slightly overgrown hair before your thighs squeeze around his head.

He pulls his head away, as he studies your face for more pain, and it doesn’t take long before it’s flashing up again. “Need you.” You murmur, “Please, Dave.”

“My fingers or my tongue?” He asks, as he dips his head back down, licking a wide stripe from your clit and all the way down.

“Your cock,” you whine desperately, and he chuckles from between your legs.

“You sure?” He asks, before pushing himself back up.

“Yes,” you almost scream, watching as he works his belt and pulls down his pants and underwear in one clear sweep. “Please.”

“Whatever you need, baby girl,” he smirks, before pushing himself into you with a sharp snap of his hips.

He’s thick enough that it hurts, it’s overwhelming and exactly what you’re needing, and he fucks exactly how you imagined. Hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he pounds into you, fucking you into the mattress and drowning out the pain coursing through you and replacing it with pleasure. He wets his tongue and presses down on your clit, rubbing the softest circles as his hips continue their deliciously harsh treatment on your cunt.

With a scream of his name, you clamp down on him so tightly that his hips stutter and a cry of your name slips out of his mouth. Your cum drenching his cock as he works you through your high and with a dozen more thrusts he’s painting your walls and extinguishing a little more of the fire inside of you.

He grunts as he pulls out of you, dropping back down to his knees to see his cum dripping from you, before pushing it back in. “I’ll give you my tongue and my fingers again, and then I'll be ready to go again, baby,” he soothes as he can tell it’s starting to flare up again. “As many times as you need.”

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

After ten years of not writing fanfiction, Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a chokehold. Inspired by one of the songs Halsins VA Dave Johnson put into his Halsin playlist, i made this. If you want the full experience listen to "I want to be your only pet" by Bombay Bicycle Club.

The whole playlist ist gold to be honest, so if you haven't do check that out.

The Tav is based on my Character Òrfhlaith (say it like Orla) who started as a Sorcerer/Bard and respecc. into Sorcerer/Paladin. For the sake of the story, the Tav is not named and only described with she/her pronouns and the title songbird.

English is not my first language, so if you find any spelling errors or grammatical mistakes, please do point it out.

I Want to be your only pet (I want to let go and forget)

Paring: Halsin x female!Tav (Halsin POV)

Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Yearning.

If you prefer Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55315462

Warnings: Mentions of past Trauma, sight violence, explicit description of blood, hinted panic attack, explicit sexual thoughts. Minord DNI!

Description:

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Little snippets of Halsin learning to let down his guard around Tav and his every growing yearning through Act I- III.

After the group freed him from the Goblin Camp, which was honestly a miracle in itself, they went on to save the Grove. Halin still could not believe it. After all the moments worrying, hoping, praying he would find a way to ward off all harm, it was done. The Grove was preserved and on the way to begin anew, whilst the Tieflings were on their way to Baldurs Gate. Not that he would call it safe in any way. Even if he wished them a happier ending, he feared for their lives on the road to the city. Halsin prayed that Sylvanus would watch over the group of refugees. Especially whenever he thought about them having to pass through the shadow cursed lands on their own.

When they finished saying their goodbyes, Halsin asked permission to stay at camp. In his heart he knew that they would need his help to pass through the shadow curse. After all, he had seen it put into place, living with its weight for over a hundred years. If his knowledge could help them towards their goal, he would be glad for it.

Their way would be long and traveling with them would mean leaving the grove behind but for all that it was worth he was relieved to give up the title of Archdruid; it had clung to his shoulders long enough. If he was being honest, he never was really good at it. Sure enough, he understood enough of politics and leadership to keep everything running, but it teared at him. Every nag and every whisper a shred of himself fell away. People like Nettie made it bearable, but he knew that due to his position there was a distance between them that could not be bridged. So he quietly yearned for nature's sweet caress again, when he would run out in the early morning hours his paws on the soft, wet ground, looking for berries and honey. Hunting at night. Unburdened from the limitations, being Archdruid gave him. No, he was not sad at all, to let all that go. and Francesca would lead the Druids to a new beginning. Remind them of the true intentions they should strive for.

The first days in camp were truly magical, though so very different than the hundred years before: Being able to enjoy the sunbeams on his face, the crisp air of morning, knowing that no one would ask him to lead the way. No one to depend on his judgment and whisper about his decisions in the hidden corners, when they thought he would not hear them. The people in camp gave him space to go after his day, not wanting his leadership nor needing it. They shared their meals with him and though some eyed him suspiciously, no one bothered him. Mostly he was left to ponder over the shadow curse and the illithid infection.

Though she came to him every now and then. Halsin could tell that she was the leader of their, rather chaotic, crew. When she spoke, they listened. Some rather … reluctantly at the beginning. But nevertheless, they accepted her plans and did what they could to support each other on the road. And she was patient with them in return. At least more patient than most of the people he knew. Even when she had to end the quarrels between them seemingly every other night, she only used harsh words in situations deserving of them.

That did not mean that she was above frustrations: One time, after a particularly bad fight between Gale and Astarion (the rogue accused the brown haired man of having stolen a copy of one of his books to eat it, telling him to use his own damn library for dinner) where they nearly set the campground on fire, she had set them straight sternly, her brow furrowing, using a surprising colorful vocabulary.

Halsin admired her vigor to go on, no matter how bad her group returned at night. Often she would go to every person in camp chatting for a few moments, her face still swollen and bloody. Most of the time, she would swiftly discard her armor and put on some (relatively) clean clothes, yet sometimes she only undid the heaviest part of her armor, chucking it away carelessly, as she went on to greet the first person. She asked them about their day, offering them counsel if needed. Every time she also appeared at his side at the end of her round. Her eyes shining with a warmth that he could only describe with a warm summer's evening.

He came to like the routine. The few first nights she would ask about his comfort and share a few kind words with him. Later, when they neared the shadow cursed lands, she requested advice trying to find the best route. While he explained she listened intently, nodding while he was mapping the ways and when he finished, she thanked him for his words before she left. It was nice. Not having to answer for every decision that was made, but his words being heard and acknowledged. It made him feel warm.

After that she returned to her usual routine. Asking him about his well being with a soothing voice, smiling at him like the fresh morning sun. One particular evening, after she left, Halsin could not help but keep thinking about the way she leaned her head when she was listening. Or how her eyes focused when she was mulling over ideas.

He found her attractive, he did not need to deny it. But the way his attention seemed to stick to her, like a fly on a honeypot, made him uneasy. There was a time and place for such thoughts and he did not believe the current situation to be one of those. So he stuffed the thoughts of her laugh and her eyes far away and carried on.

Halsin heard her sing, one time at camp. Wyll was sharing a story about the fine dances back in Baldurs Gate and bards that could induce you with whatever feeling they pleased, with just a few strokes of their instruments. The Warlock recalled the way one particularly skilled bard sang a ballad full of yearning and heartache, that he never heard again. Halsin heard her surprised exclamation, telling the horned man excitedly that she knew that song by heart. Wyll had politely asked her to sing it for them, only if she did not mind. And she did not mind at all.

Her voice sounded a bit coarse at the beginning (there were not many occasions to sing anymore) but soon her voice unfolded like a flower petal in bloom. Halsin could have sworn to Sylvanus, her voice sounded like a songbird, both sweet and rich. Soon she was weaving a net with each syllable, entangling the listeners with her honey voice. Turning his head he could see entranced eyes, some humming along softly and tapping their feet. A gentle breeze passed through them as the song ended. Gentle quiet settled over camp. For a moment everyone seemed to be lost in their own thoughts before Karlach asked for another song, excitement barely contained. With a glint in her eyes, the songbird began to sing a folkish song. One that was easier to follow and more well known, stomping along to the beat. And soon enough a few of them joined in. All in all it went on to be a surprisingly jolly evening. From his spot on a thick branch, Halsin watched them sing and dance around, grabbing onto the unwilling campmates pulling them along, much to their pretended dismay.

She had suddenly stood before him then. Hand outstretched, eyes shining like the sun itself had made its home there. With his heart pounding in his chest, Halsin stared up to her.

“Will you be joining us?” She asked in a melodic tone. He wished for nothing more than to keep her voice around for the rest of the night.

It would have only taken him a word. One word and he could have joined their merry dancing, their laughter. But he did not dare to. Not with the memory of the Shadow Curse hanging on his shoulders, whispering every single failure he could count into his ear. Not with Thaniel lost, not with the unspoken promise of saving him or die trying. With a heart so heavy it could drag him right into the ground, Halsin shook his head. “Another time. But thank you for your invitation. It is greatly appreciated.” Her smile faltered. He could have sworn to see a flicker of concern in her eyes. With a pang of regret the Druid tried to say something soothing- He did not mean to steal the sun from her eyes.

As he was trying to find his words, she smiled again. “All is well, my friend. You take your rest and tomorrow we will see to the Shadow Curse.”

Her eyes laid intently on him, unfaltering. He could swear he saw a different kind of fire there. “We will see it broken and Thaniel freed once again. I swear." The way she said it filled Halsin with hope. She seemed so sure of it.

Before he could say anything in response, someone from the group (he could swear it was Shadowheart, rare laughter spilling from her lips) was pulling her away from him again. He watched her pick up her laughter full of sunshine again, holding the hand of the young cleric. Under the sea of stars she radiated light and warmth, turning in a circle, stumbling over her feet and catching herself, before holding onto someone elses hand. Halsin wondered how it would feel to catch her, to make her laugh and bring the light into her eyes. Holding her close to his chest as he traced the rivers of starlight on her skin. To bite her tender skin, taste her, devour her. Halsin inhaled sharply, willing the golden sparks on his skin away. He reminded himself that such were no thoughts to have. Now was not the time to relax and to come undone. Not before he had freed Thaniel and lifted the Shadow curse. This was his duty before everything else. She would help him. That was a small relief in the suffocating fear that had nested itself in his heart so very long ago.

With a sigh he looked at the wood he was chipping away at. He had to be alone for a moment. Grabbing his utensils, he stood up, swiftly waving goodnight towards the group as his feet carried him back to his bedroll. Staring up towards the stars, he wondered if he should carve a dancing bird.

After they saved Thaniel and killed Ketheric Thorm the land bloomed once more, roots emerging from the earth tasting the sun's kiss once again.There were no words in the world that could describe how he felt then. Everything he worked for, all that he wished for over 100 years, came to life. Just like that. The land that had clawed at them mere hours ago, now flourished in the light of the sun, reaching for it like they were drowning. Halsin felt like the weight on his shoulders had lifted a bit. Years of feeling like there was not enough air, now seemed to ease, as every inhale came a little easier to him. For a moment he let himself rest and gazed at the scenery around him, when a high pitched yelp ripped him out of his thoughts.

Startled, he turned towards the sound: Karlach had gathered everyone in reach of her in her arms, squeezing them tight to her chest. His Songbird laughed as she was swept up in the embrace of the tiefling woman, laughing freely. He cherished the starry eyed look she had, as she looked back on the land, her chest swelling with pride. There was seldom a moment when she looked so full of wonder, so carefree.While she smiled often before the others, when no one looked, her eyes turned grim, as a heaviness Halsin recognized all too well took hold of them. Shoulders sagging as if the burden of the world sat on her shoulders. It was a relief to see her unburdened, even if only for a moment.

When his gaze lingered on her face a second too long, their eyes met and time seemed to still, nothing existing besides them for a moment. Then she shot the elf a questioning look. Shame bloomed in his chest, as Halsin had realized he got caught staring like a fool and then kept looking at her still. Suddenly he wished to make himself as small as a mouse. But to his surprise she merely reached over to him and pulled him into the hug

“You are officially one of us now.” She said sneaking her free arm around his chest, squeezing him towards her. At least he thought it was her arm.

“Next time join us earlier.” So she must have thought his stare stemmed from lacking inclusion in the group. Halsin hoped, she would not find out the real reason he had been staring.

That evening the group celebrated once again. It was rather modest, as the weeks before had depleted their ressources greatly. Still, the relief after surviving moonrise tower seemed to give them new energy. Now the whole group seemed to buzz with excitement for the next chapter to come. As they drank and talked, Halsin could feel himself relax more than he had in years before- His Pipe pressed between lips, letting out a puff of fragrant smoke and watching it swirl into the bright night sky, whittling tools in hand again, chipping away at it slowly. The ground under him was soft and warm, bustling with life, ready to begin anew.

He chuckled as the songbird watched her in an armwrestling competition with Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel on the side, discussing their forms, throwing in a bit of advice every now and then. Even if she was strong, Karlach bested the songbird easily, apologizing the whole time. Halsin could swear he saw a coin switch hands in the background. Whoever did not bet on Karlach was foolish, that woman would best everyone in camp, including himself. As Gale and Astarion started to bicker again, the songbird stood up and shooed them to do “something useful for once” with a grin. She loved them, he could see it clear as day. Seeing her made his chest uncomfortably tight.

Later that evening she came to him, out of breath, sweat glistening on her skin. She had been playing with the dog and the owlbear again. Eunning away with Scratches' ball before getting tackled, when she did not manage to run fast enough. She pointed her finger to the spot next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” She inquired, her skin flushed and eyes twinkling.

He smiled. “ No. If you want to rest here for a while, you are more than welcome.” The elf shifted to the side, allowing her to sit down next to him. She quickly made herself comfortable on the floor and crossed her legs. Her gaze shifted to his hands, holding his piece of wood.

“Can you teach me how to whittle? Every time I see you, I wonder how you do it and … I thought that this night is as good as any to ask you. If that’s not too much to ask” her voice seemed to waver at the end.

Was she nervous? Halsin wondered if he was intimating her somehow. Before he spoke he softened his tone on instinct.

“I don’t know if there is much to say about it. Most people tend to perceive it as boring, anyway. But nevertheless I’d be honored to show you, if you really want to.”

She shrugged. “Well most people can stuff it.” A huff escaped her lips when she saw the surprised look Halsin gave her.

“You do well to know what you like: They cannot take that away from you. No matter how much they sneer about it, this is yours. And besides: whittling is a hobby as good as any other.” He contemplated her words for a moment.

“Sometimes I think people look at me and think my feelings can’t be hurt” Halsin stilled for a moment “Thank you for your words. I appreciate them greatly.” She shot him a smile as the elf picked up his utensils again. While he was showing her what to use and how to begin, she listened attentively, asking for clarification a few times. When she leaned over, he could feel her warm breath on his skin. Hastily he cleared his throat and went on to explain.

“For me the vision of what I’ll carve comes when I’m already in the process. But for the first time, it would be a smart choice to already have an idea in mind.” He handed her a piece of wood, which she started turning in her hands over and over again, contemplating. Holding up his own work so he could show her.

“You could start with a spoon if you’d to begin very simple. Or if you would rather enjoy something artistic I could show you a fox or a bi-”

“A Bear.” Taken aback, Halsin looked over to her. She did not falter, as she continued. “It is you who is showing me how to do it, no? I met you as a bear the very first time. And …” She hesitated. “You do inspire me, you know? So, I would like to do a bear.”

By Silvanus, the bear would like to do you , he thought. Alone the notion that she was inspired by him of all people. Did she even know how extraordinary she was? But that was a thought he would keep to himself. So instead he said: “A Bear it is then.”

He showed her the outlines of the piece and what she would have to expect, while she was whittling. Soon they both worked in silence, elbows touching every now and then. Halsin sneaked a glance at her face: She made her focused face again, eyes solely on the wood in her hand, crouching over it, trying to find the best position for her blade. The tall elf chuckled and looked at his work again. His wooden bird came along just fine. The upper side of the outstretched wings was already apparent with its head thrown towards the sky, beak open as if right in the middle of a song. He wondered if he should carve the legs to be standing solidly on the ground or rather ready to set to the sky, when Galel came to them, asking for support on “urgent matters”.

“Thank you for your time.” came her voice from next to him. She gently brushed the shavings from her legs before standing up. “Will keep showing me how to whittle? I had a lot of fun,” her eyes held a cheeky twinkle “even if some people will call me boring now.”

With a short laugh he responded: “Well I hope you do well to know that you can be boring with me anytime.”

“Well. Until we meet here again, to be boring together.” She cackled and waved him goodbye, walking alongside the talking wizard. As Halsin watched her leave, he wondered why his chest was so tight again.

Sighing, he gathered the wood chips on one pile, cradling the rough wood between his big hands before discarding it.

It was not that he wanted to harbor her for himself. Far from it. She was a beacon of light in these dark times, one that everyone was sure to enjoy having around. And she seemed to like the company of her friends so much. But still his heart betrayed him. He would have loved to sit alone with her a moment longer, her light breathing next to him and their skin touching gently. Maybe she would lean over again, so he could smell her hair. In the short moments when the wind blew just right, her smell carried over to him: fire and berries. He wondered how she managed to smell like that. Maybe he would have asked her about it. Maye she she would have accidentally brushed his hand and he would have gathered his courage, reaching for it, holding it tight. A shudder ran through him. Maybe it was better that she left. He wondered how much longer desire in him would have stayed silent, when it wanted nothing more than to hear her breath coming quicker, tasting the sweetness of her skin, telling him that she needed him like a song- He shushed himself, swatting at his thoughts like they were flies. He picked up the wood she left for the next time. Weighing it in his hands, he looked at it. A Bear she wanted to whittle. He chuckled sadly. As if she had not been whittling away at his guard for such a long time.

Whilst on their way to Baldurs Gate, she came to his tent every evening and they calmly whittled away. Most of the time, both of them sat in silence. But sometimes they would share a few words, talking about their interests and stories, sharing comfort in their presence. One quit evening, when the others were gathering some supplies on the road, leaving the camp in a state of unusual calm, she opened up to him about her insecurities. Telling him about her experience as the group leader, comparing it to her wildly different life before.

In the spur of the moment Halsin asked her if she wanted to go back after this was all done. The whittling stopped, while her brow furrowed. For a second he was afraid that he overstepped. Was ist too personal? Did it bring up troubling memories for her?

But she laid her hand on his arm and found his gaze. “Actually I prefer it now. Even in these dire times.,” in her eyes a sudden bitterness pooled. ”I got all of you now, after all. That is more than I had before.” As her gaze shifted towards her workpiece again, Halsin noticed her hand lingering on his skin before pulling away to adjust her grip on the wood. The spot on his skin her hand had rested upon, felt empty now. He turned his head towards his own project again, not wanting to inquiry any further.

It was peaceful for a few days. So peaceful that he nearly forgot all the horrors that the world entails. Soon they reached Rivington. Their excitement for the city had already turned to anxiety as they reached the city gates, being denied entry as all the refugees were. For Halsin this Situation was unbearable. Seeing all these people in little makeshift tents, sleeping on the cold hard floor, having barely enough food to feed all the children. hated the city for its uncaring nature. Seeing all of the city's misdeeds he wondered if they felt any shame at all. All this time he held himself to such high standards, as he tried again and again to be deserving of the title as Archdruid. The leaders of this city could leave a legion to starve right before the city gates and be praised for it.

Since they took Yenna into their camp, he tried his best to keep his composure. The young girl was already scared enough and did not need to see the adults around her losing their nerves too. So he tried his very best to appear calm and collected, while a storm raged under his skin, growing stronger every day. One hungry face at a time.

The final breaking point approached in front of the circus gates. Halsin had seen the posters advertising the circus time and time again. A clown they all seemed to be excited for. Telling him about the jokes he would tell and all the attractions that could be seen. He did not truly understand the concept of that yet but he was willing to try, if the group decided to visit.

But in a cruel twist of fate, it seemed they did not need to go to the circus but rather it came to them. When it started to dawn, his group decided to pack up for the night, making their way down the roads of Rivington. A rather big crowd had formed cheering a sturdy human man on as he cracked his whip, forcing the animals to dance on small stands, as a middle aged woman played a fast song on a wooden flute. His blood ran hot through his veins as anger seemed to swallow him whole. He could feel the bear in him stir, ready to attack and tear the flesh of this disgusting person's bones. The noise around him made him nauseous. Halsin didn’t know why the fighting started. One moment he was thinking about ripping and screaming and the other he saw his songbird emerge from the crowd, weapon in hand, fighting a cloaked figure. Jumping forth as fur emerged from his skin, he did not care who started it at all. He was glad for the fight.

After the battle was won, Halisin stayed as a bear, wishing for the comfort this shape brought him. His strong body shifting on his paws, every smell more intense but also his mind quieted a little. Everything seemed more manageable like this. But now even as a bear his heart pounded and his breathing did not seem to slow. As Halsin stood still, he noticed that his body was shaking like leafs in the wind, the memories of long bygone times whispering in his mind, demanding to be seen, no matter how much he seemed to push them away. He growled and made his way back to camp with the others. He needed to be away from everything for a while. No one should see him losing control like that.

He did not care what looks he became as he nearly ran through camp, ignoring his name being shouted. There were only his feet, pounding on the ground, coming quicker with every moment until he was sprinting into the first spot of trees he could see, not stopping until his feet reached water. The Lake. Exhaling he pressed his snout into the water only coming up for air when he felt like his lungs were about to explode. He did not want to be alone like this. But also he could not go back, have them ask questions about why. Especially when he did not seem to know either.

A thump behind him alerted him prompting his muscles to tense on instinct. He sprung around, jaws open to expose his sharp teeth. She stopped in her tracks, carefully holding up her hands.

“Halsin? Do you need help? Are you hurt?” Her voice was gentle but Halsin detected an urgency behind it. Looking for a reaction, she slowly stepped close to him, kneeling down an arms length away, her right hand outstretched towards him and stilled. Uncertain his eyes flickered between her and the trees. The light had already vanished, casting her silhouette in blue and gray hues, as she silently waited for him to breach the distance. He realized that she was leaving him the choice: To either come to her or run away if he felt the need.

Desperation clawed at him. Why did he even hold back? What was it good for in the end? She was here now, offering comfort. He would be a fool to deny her. So he took the last step towards her and laid his face into her hand. A sigh escaped her lips, that he could only describe as relieved. Soon enough her fingers started carefully stroking him. Minutes passed, his breathing coming slightly slower than before, his mind gradually clearing from the fog of panic he was lost in.

“Oh my sweet friend.” she whispered, her steady voice not much about a whisper. Her right hand was still on the side of his face, gently caressing him. He did not want to bear the burden anymore, to shoulder it all alone. All the memories of hardship and loss, the memory of himself sitting behind cold and rotting Goblinbars and, before that, behind a closed bedroom door, his eyes tracing the pattern of the carvings on the door time and time again until they burned themselves behind his closed eyes.

It broke him when he saw the eyes of the animals. He knew the look all too well.Some of them had no hope of escaping anymore. Those who did looked like they paid greatly for their resistance: Time and time again under the cruelty of their so called masters. One day even those who held on the longest would give in. They would become the broken puppets the Circus desired. Their fur dulled, their scales spotty. Dancing to some people's badly played lute. Carving patterns into the iron rods. He could have sworn that they would carve and carve like he did-

Halin shuddered and pulled his fangs back. If he would not be in his bear form already, it surely would have been broken free by now. He could taste the blood in his mouth, could free it dripping down on the cold forest floor. Halsin wanted to pull back. He did not want her to see him like this, afraid and grappling for control. He felt his trembling in the trees around them.

When her other hand appeared on his head, he finally looked up. His eyes adjusted in the dark to really look at her. After the fight, she had thrown the upper half of her armor away and traded it for a dirty shirt which by now had been stained with no small amount of blood. With her arms outstretched towards him, he was able to see the smears and stains that appeared blue and purple on her skin and hair. Blood both from her own wounds and those inflicted on others were running over her skin like a river delta. Even though she smelled like blood and sweat and leather, the wind carried the faintest whiff of berries- It startled him. After all this her hair still smelled like herself. It was absurd.

Halsin wondered if he began imagining things. Nevertheless, his tension eased a bit as he allowed himself to step an inch closer, nostrils flared. She smelled lovely, more now than ever.

“Let me help you. My gentle bear, let me heal your wounds.” She whispered again, her hands stroking his fur, beckoning him closer.

My Bear, she had said. If his mind had been clearer, he would have asked her about it. But right now Halsin gave in and pressed his head even harder into her hands. He did not want to think anymore. He wanted to relax into her warm touch and forget.

She pulled him close, guiding his head onto her lap, as she sat on the stained earth below them. Halsin let himself fall to the floor, his strained limbs protesting. The Bear groaned as he adjusted himself to laying on the floor, without bothering his wounds too much. As soon as he stilled, one of her hands started to caress his neck, the other gently touching his snout. It had stopped dripping blood, but he tasted it still on his tongue. He winced again, wishing to wash the foul smell of these people away.

"Shhh." She hummed “ It’s alright. You’re alright. Let me take care of you.” Her hands suddenly stilled. “Can you show me where you are hurt?”

In my heart he wanted to say. But the bear was not able to speak and he was glad for it, his treacherous thoughts would not reach her ear. Instead he forced himself to turn himself on his side, so she could see his stomach. His already dark fur was clumped with strands of blood and dirt, in the night it seemed to be almost black. When he had pushed himself on his hindlegs to strike at his opponents, his soft underpart was exposed just long enough to strike him.

In the darkness she reached over, her hand already glowing. Bowing her head onto his, her forehead silently connecting with him, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Halsin felt her magic on his body as it encouraged flesh to mend and skin to heal. To him her energy felt like hope in new beginnings. Like the soaring of wings. It felt like being home again. Almost felt like the relief he felt after they saved Thaniel. She truly was his sun, with the way her entire being seemed to emit warm light, his beacon that guided him through the darkest of times. Everywhere she went, it felt summer had begun anew.

Only moments passed until his body was healed, but her hands stayed on his fur long after it. Several minutes went by in silence, with only their breathing filling the space between them. After a while she groaned and repositioned her leg, wincing. Guilt exploded in his chest as he looked up, slightly pulling away from her, reading her expression. She gave him a tired smile, bloodied lips stretching to reveal her dimples. Halsin realized how exhausted she really looked, not only from the battle but rather carrying the weariness of all the weeks in her eyes. And still she went to care for him, before all others.

Halsin wanted nothing more than to keep her to himself, to shield her from all her sorrows and to be held by her in return: To find comfort in each other. The desire to hold her tight seemed to burn through his chest, gnawing his way up until he felt like he could choke. Who was he to ask anything of her? He tried pulling away from her completely, but her hand on his back tightened

“Don’t go away. Please. I don’t want… “ She trailed off. Halsin saw a flicker of anxiety on her face. “Stay, please. Just for a moment.”

She let go, stretching her arms out wide in front of him. An Invitation. Halsin noticed that her eyes held the same request, like the day she asked him to dance and like so many nights before It would only take him so little to accept. He forced himself to push his worry down, as the Bear pushed his head into her hand. In an instant she pulled him close into her chest, pressing her face into his fur. The bear inhaled sharply as her arms tightened around him in a silent plea. It felt like she tried to wrap her entire body around him. Carefully he lifted one of his blood-soaked paws and wrapped himself around her, gently pulling her into his chest. Now she nearly laid on him, her body rising and falling quickly with his ragged breath. It still was very fast.

As if reading his thoughts she murmured: “Breathe with me.” Pushing himself back on his hind legs, he pulled her even further onto him, which earned him a soft laugh from her, and rested his head carefully on her back, observing her steady breathing. Trying to detect a pattern, he started to exhale and inhale in rhythm with her, his heart slowing down little by little. Relief washed over him, gentle but strong, like an ocean wave that came upon the shore. A part of him wondered if she knew how much this calmed him, breathing together as the gentle night breeze carried it away.

Hasin felt her hand begin to draw patterns on his chest, trying to untangle the knots in his fur whenever her fingers catched a particularly bad one and finally closed his eyes. Nothing could coax him away from this moment, having her in his arms, her warmth seeping into his fur, holding a light within him that kept his sorrows at bay. If the world would have ended in this moment, he would not care for it.

After what felt like hours of peaceful silence, he felt her stir again. She hesitated for a moment but then turned her mouth towards his ear and spoke.

“My Bear, my bear. My sweet, sweet Bear. I will protect you. I will see you safe. You have nothing to fear as long as you are with me. And if I cannot promise you anything, I promise you this: You are safe with me.”

Halsin felt like his heart wanted to explode in his chest. Warmth began spreading in his body, sending a pleasant feeling into his exhausted body. My bear. The first time he heard the word could have been a mistake on his part, born of wishful thinking and the blood flowing from his wounds. But she said it again. And again. My bear. Oh to be hers indeed.

Halsin wished her to hold him like this every night, have her close, let her stroke his hair and tell him that there is nothing to worry about, like a prayer that only he could hear. To have her say that he is safe with her again and again until he started believing it again. And he would swear to her that she is safe with him, promising it with every breath, kissing it into her skin. He would be pulling her in his arms softly as either elf or bear. Holding her and letting himself be held. Feeling her body against his, shielding her from harm. Halsin desperately wanted to worship her every inch, calling her all the wondrous things he could think of.

Showing her how much he needed her in any way possible, hearing her scream his name into the night, her moans just as beautiful as her songs. He longed to leave his mark upon her skin, to show everyone how desired she was, for nature had made her so very beautiful, inside and out. If she did not know by then that she was like the sweetest honey to him, he would make sure she knew every day and night.

He scolded himself for being selfish. But her words, the way she called him mine; he wondered if there was any possibility she could return his feelings after all. That she felt the same way he did, when she gazed at him. Why else would she call him my bear? But uncertainty rang loudly in his ears. What would he do, if he was wrong about it? She called the others my friend and some even sweetheart. What if he misunderstood her intentions and she left him, disgusted by his brazen words? No, disgusted by him.

Then he would never be able to look at himself again. Only imagining that she could sneer at him and turn away hurt him beyond comprehension.

Tonight he could not muster the strength. Too sweet was her embrace, too comforting her words. And he was so tired of pretending he possessed strength that had left him years ago.

Nestling even further into her skin, he savored every second. He just wanted to breathe in her scent and pretend that his feelings were returned. Pretend that he was wanted the same way like he wanted her. Pretend that there were better days to come for him, where he could be himself with her. Building a safehouse for everyone who needed it so that no one would ever fear for their lives again. He imagined never carrying so much weight again. But those were far away dreams. No, tonight Halsin could not shoulder the dark shroud of reality. Instead he vowed to ask her about it, to finally ask her if she felt the same. Tomorrow.

If he only knew, how much she yearned to do the same.

[pluviophiles]

umbrella academy season 4 ending - rewritten (PART 1)

since we were absolutely robbed this season, i felt the need to publish my own little version of the tua s4 ending. im sure it's riddled with plot holes, but it does give me a bit of satisfaction after watching whatever the tom fuckery happened in the last season.

warnings : tua s4 spoilers, wordbuilding, unpolished writing

... as luther, diego, allison, klaus, five, viktor, and lila are slowly engulfed by the monstrous blob, there is a blinding flash of gold. the scene cuts to black. [after a short pause] hard cut to BEN sitting on the subway - the very same scene we saw in s3 post-credits. it plays out the same way we've seen before, yet continues even after ben looks up from the book in hand. the train slowly comes to a stop, presumably having arrived at a station. cut to the subway door, which slowly opens. enter KLAUS, and then DAVE. the two of them converse, cheerily, hand-in-hand. klaus walks straight past ben, and the audience realizes that, in this timeline, the umbrella siblings are complete strangers. the two of them sit down several feet away from ben. as klaus reaches for dave, the audience can see a newly-inked tattoo on his forearm - a marigold. the camera pans back to ben, zoomed further in. now, the audience can see that, on the side of his glasses, there is a small, bedazzled marigold design. a flash of recognition can be seen in ben's eyes. he scrunches his eyebrows together, as if trying to piece together two foreign pieces of information. the camera pans again, revealing JENNIFER in the seat across from ben. JENNIFER ben… is everything alright? ben shakes his head slightly, unsure of himself. BEN it's nothing. [he clears his throat, and with more conviction, repeats, ] it's nothing. jennifer is clearly unconvinced, but decides to drop the subject for now. cut to the subway door once more, and the rest of the umbrellas file in, one-by-one. first, ALLISON, with CLAIRE and RAY. the three of them sit down in one far corner of the car; a happy family. as the light shifts, allison's necklace glints and shimmers. (design? a marigold.) then, DIEGO and LILA with their three kids. as they sit down, GRACE shyly pulls out a marigold flower, handing it to her parents. GRACE [incoherent] ...for you. diego takes it with a huge grin on his face and tucks it behind lila's ear. the latter bends down to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead. after them came LUTHER. he was by his lonesome, but sat down near a beautiful woman - SLOANE. clumsily, he brushes up against her, and quickly offers awkward apologies. they fall into a comfortable conversation. the audience can see that here, he has a watch similar to the one reginald originally gifted him, with a marigold in its center. VIKTOR comes in, trailing behind SISSY and HARLAN. the two of them are now married, with matching stones set on their fingers. viktor is donning dark blue jean jacket, an embroidered marigold at the top. the last one to the party is FIVE. however, here, he is no longer a teenager. instead, he has gotten to live his life like the rest of his family, and is now at the ripe age of 35. he sits down with his partner, who the audience recognizes as DELORES. hazily, he wraps his arm around her. he's wearing a suit as per usual, with the addition of a marigold brooch. each of the seven siblings seem to be in their own bubbles, suggesting that they finally reached contentment. still, they are connected together by the marigold, even if it is no longer inside of them. in this timeline, the umbrellas were almost the opposite of dysfunctional. perhaps the problem was never them, but reginald. for, here, the seven of them flourished.

(PART 2 SOON TO COME)

[smeg-and-the-red]

Smegtober Day 17: Derelict

(prompts by @strange-and-off-putting)

word count: 510

A/N: set pre-series, during the immediate aftermath of the accident that killed the crew. I would like to give credit to @janamelie for inspiration.

McIntyre walks through the corridors in a daze, his hologrammatic footsteps silent against the metal floors of the ship. Pale-faced, he takes care to step around each little pile of ashes he passes, even though distantly he knows he won’t disturb them.

   Dead. They were all dead. 

   It happened almost instantly. Holly barely had a chance to activate the warning sirens and emergency lights before the roaring nuclear wind swept through the corridors. The crew only had a few seconds to panic before they were all killed.

   McIntyre had been in the drive room when it happened. He’d stood, pale and wide-eyed, as everyone around him met their vicious end, their bodies completely obliterated. He felt like he was watching a film, seeing it all happen while he alone remained unharmed.

   He rounds a corner into a corridor where there are no ashes to be seen, and finally stops. He crouches down, his legs feeling too weak to support him.

   “Alright, George?”

   He looks up at the monitor on the wall, meeting Holly’s digital gaze. Behind his usual nonplussed expression, the computer looks troubled.

   McIntyre doesn’t move from his spot on the floor, his voice deceptively calm, “What happened?”

   “Radiation leak,” comes Holly’s smooth response, “resulting from an insufficiently sealed drive plate.”

   He doesn’t say anything.

   Holly hesitates before speaking again, “there’s one survivor.”

   McIntyre’s head darts up, his eyes fixing on Holly’s monitor, “who?” How?

   “Dave Lister. He’s still in stasis on level sixteen.”

   He pushes himself up to his feet, “Are you going to let him out?”

   “Yeah, but we should probably wait a bit. At its current level, the radiation would kill him almost immediately.”

   “Right,” McIntyre deflates, “right.”

   “I was planning to plot a course that will take us out of the solar system,” Holly continues, “we can’t risk contamination spreading to other ships, planets, or moons.”

   He nods numbly, “do it.” Before Holly can disappear, he hastens to add, “Holly?”

   “Yeah, George?”

   McIntyre wrings his hands together, “what’s going to happen to me?”

   Holly’s gaze flickers over him, at the H on his forehead. “That’s up to you, George. As Flight Coordinator, you are still the most vital deceased crew member on board-”

   “Not the captain?” McIntyre asks weakly. There is a beat of silence.

   “... so, you can stay switched on if you wish, and wait for me to let Dave out,” Holly concludes.

   McIntyre doesn’t respond.

   “... You don’t want to stay switched on?” Holly asks, unusually thoughtful.

   McIntyre’s fingers clasp together, “how long are you going to leave Dave in stasis for?”

   “I can’t be certain,” Holly says, “but it will be a while.”

   McIntyre hums. Then- “switch me off, please, Holly.”

   Holly frowns, “are you sure, George?”

   McIntyre nods, “and when you let Dave out, you need to switch on someone else instead of me. He’s not likely to ever reach home, and he’ll need someone who knows him to be there for him.”

   “Understood,” Holly says.

   “Right,” McIntyre says, his hologrammatic heart thumping, “Goodbye, Holly. Look after Dave.”

   “I will. Goodbye, George.”