#I wanna puke and kick my feet in the air

[unlikelysaintdelele]

nothing is as dizzying and intoxicating as being intensely flirted with by a man you find very attractive.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hi just got into reading your writing, I adore it ❤️❤️

Was just wondering if you could write about George while during labour and after cuddling with a cute baby. I feel like he would be so cute and helpful 😂😂

thank you for coming by my blog and checking out my stuff, that means a whole lot to me! if you wanna check out the previous girl-dad!george blurb then you can read it here. xx

nearing the last few weeks of her pregnancy, all yn wants to do is stay at home.

as much as george tries to coax her out for some fresh air, just for a walk around the park down the road or sitting in the background of on one of chris' football shoots so she could get some social activity in as well as some time outside, she denies every invite that comes her way. she just doesn't feel up to it.

and george understands.

"i'm fat, i waddle instead of walk, i look gross and i haven't showered for about four days because i'm tired lugging this around," she points to the bump that protrudes from over the waistband of her tracksuit trousers and stretching the material of one of george's old t-shirts, "i just don't want to go anywhere, george."

"you're not fat," he tuts and runs the stretch of his palm across the curvature of her front, feeling the active kicks from his little girl as she moves around and gets comfortable from the previous jostling motions of yn waddling her way towards him, "you are pregnant. not fat."

"i've gained so many pounds," yn huffs her fringe from her face and he rolls his eyes, "don't roll your eyes with attitude, clarkey."

"not done with attitude," he retorts and presses a kiss to her lips, "you're just being silly, okay? the midwife told you in your last visit to her that you'd probably gain a little weight from your body changing."

she frowns and he cups her face in his hands.

"besides, all that added weight is just proof out little girl is growing healthily."

she drops her forehead to his chest, a slight stretch from her neck because of the bump restricting her from getting any closer, and she groans lowly.

"will you be okay for a few hours? i can get someone to come and sit with you for an hour or so?"

"i'll be fine," yn grumbles, lifting her head up to look at him and he has a soft and gentle look in his eyes, one that seemed to be debating on whether he should leave for chris' video shoot or stay and explain that he needed to be home with her, "don't even think about cancelling, george. i'll be fine. if anything goes wrong, i'm sure arthur can come down from upstairs."

"hill or television?"

"oh, definitely hill. i think mister frederick would pass out if he had to do anything remotely related to me being in labour."

george snorts and retrieves his hands from her, passing her by as he walks towards the door to her flat and grabs his boots for the 3g pitch chris had booked, slipping his feet into his trainers, before grabbing his hoodie from the back of her door.

"you call me if anything happens."

"george, we have three weeks."

"baby's can come early," he warns her and she rolls her eyes, "less with the attitude, missy."

"go on, go. you'll be late otherwise," yn smiles softly, "tell chris i say hi and that the baby told me that she can't wait to puke on him when she's finally here."

and, of course, everything is fine and dandy in the first few hours without george.

she made herself a sandwich then followed it with a bowl of cereal because she was craving something a little chocolatey, watching all of the youtube videos that she needed to catch up and scrolling her social media, replying to sweet messages on her twitter and doing a small q and a on her instagram for people to involve themselves in.

until she felt an ache roll across her belly.

an ache that was nothing like the braxton hicks she'd experienced just a short week ago when she'd panicked about going into labour. the midwife explaining it was just her body getting ready for when it was time to pop their little girl out, that it was nothing to worry about and that she wasn't in active labour and just needed to rest and enjoy the last few weeks as a family of two.

an ache that did worry her because it was harsh. enough to make her hunch over. enough to make her eyes water. enough to have her heart racing in her chest.

"you just had to do it without daddy here, huh? did you not hear our conversation earlier?"

she didn't want to interrupt george and she told herself that she had enough willpower to cope for the first hour, by herself, and she didn't want to call chris when he was in the middle of his shoot to tell him she needed her boyfriend when her labour was only at the first stage.

she reaches for her phone and tries to call arthur hill, except it goes to his voicemail twice. to which she left a rather agitated message in relation to how she was going to make him do all the nappy changes and have him on babysitting duty when her little one had arrived.

"yn?"

"arthur," she says, "hello."

"hi?"

"don't be so surprised i'm calling you, idiot. we're friends," she rolls her eyes to herself and her words come out as a low grumble and he huffs out a gentle laugh, "i just need your help."

"i'm in the middle of editing a new reacts video, can it wait till-"

"i think i'm in labour and i just need someone to come and sit with me for a little while. just in case," she grumbles out, looking at the clock as she kept a close eye on the minutes ticking by, "just until george comes home from his shoot with chris in a couple of hours."

"oh, shit."

"please don't panic," she begs him softly, hearing the instant shock and worry in his voice, "i'm fine. nothing is really progressing and i've only had two contractions in the last fifteen or so minutes. but-"

"no, no. it's fine. give me five minutes and i'll be down, okay? do you need me to bring you anything? does george have anything that you'll need?"

yn shakes her head, "no, no. just, yourself. please. george has a spare key in your flat, by the front door, you can use that."

"okay, i'll be there soon. just sit tight."

and when george gets home a short hour and a half after her first contraction, he's greeted with the sight of yn swaying her hips on her yoga ball in front of arthur who was sat on the sofa, her hands in his as she squeezed them gently, lips pursed as she took deep breaths in and out.

and, at first, he's confused.

until it really dawns on him and he's drops his stuff instantly. feet on their way to her before he could toe his trainers off and usually, yn would complain about the smell of his sweaty clothes after his arrival home after anything activity-related except today, she had bigger things to worry about.

"jesus christ, you didn't think to call me?"

"i didn't want to interrupt your shoot. plus, it's not too bad," yn smiles softly, her cheeks red and her forehead shiny with a thin layer of sweat building up on her skin, "arthur's been a great help. he should take up midwifery."

"no," arthur blurts out suddenly and she giggles lightly, "i don't have the stomach for it."

"okay, maybe a doula then," yn suggests, "your voice is very calming and soothing to listen to. i made him recite animal facts to distract him and myself."

she looks at george and his eyes are full of concern.

"george, i'm okay."

"she's a trooper," arthur lets george take her hands, replacing his spot in front of yn and he stands to his feet, wiping his hands on his t-shirt as they were warm and a little sticky, "do you need me or shall i leave you both to it?"

"i think we've got it," george look at him and smiles, "thanks, mate. i'll keep you updated on everything. hopefully we have a baby next time we see you."

arthur grins and bends over and presses a soft kiss to yn's forehead, squeezing her shoulder before he bids his farewell to the two of them, closing the front door behind him as he exits the flat. leaving yn and george in their own bubble, allowing them the privacy to endure the next step of their parenting journey together, the quiet feel to the room almost comforting for her as his thumb rubs over her knuckles reassuringly.

he calls the hospital, speaks to her midwife, lets yn inform of her of everything and they're told to come in because yn was definitely about to have a baby. no fake contractions this time around.

it was the real thing.

and she was terrified.

"i don't wanna go," she whispers tearfully and her feet come to halt at the front door, dropping his hand as he takes one step more and he turns to look at her, "george, i don't want to go."

"no, no. hey," he hoists the strap of the baby bag over his shoulder, her head dropping down to her chest as she hid the tears that were beginning to well and spill over her eyelids, "i know you're scared. hell, i'm scared, too. so scared. but we've got this, yeah? you've got this."

she shakes her head.

"yes, you have. you're the strongest woman i know, okay? you've been amazing through the last nine months, you've battled all you can battle, now it's time for the final step," he grins widely and she looks up at him, his palms cupping her face, "we're about to have a baby, yeah? the last nine months of growing our little bub is coming to an end."

"i can't do it," she whimpers and her bottom lip wobbles, "george, i can't."

and she bursts into tears. her cries echoing around the hallway, down the corridor of the floor of her flat, and his heart breaks at all of the emotions coming from within her. her cheeks wet. her eyes red. and he scoops her into a hug, hiding her face in his shoulder, cupping the back of her head with his hand.

"i'm with you every step of the way," he whispers, "right there, next to you, holding your hand. i'm not going anywhere."

she gulps back a thick sob, her tears dampening the shirt on his body and her knees are shaking, gently swaying as she felt a contraction start its painful ache across her stomach muscles, a heavy groan in the air that he could feel the pain radiate from.

when they get to the hospital and once she's given a room, with a pool in the corner in case she wanted it and a birthing ball beside her beside in case she found comfort on that, changing into a gown so she was a little more comfortable. the smell making her feel a little more at ease knowing she was somewhere where she could birth her baby safely. the gentle pastel colours of the walls around her making her feel less stressed and panicky and a lot more mellow and calmer.

and george stuck to his word.

he never left her side. he never tore his attention from her. he never left the room. he stayed planted to the seat beside the bed. only getting up to use the en-suite loo that came with the room and when she was after a nurse to ask a question about something she was a little scared and nervous about.

"think we should tell the guys?"

"i think arthur would have mentioned something," yn smiles, "i'm very surprised they're not in the waiting room."

"do you want them here?"

yn shakes her head, "as much as i'd love to see them, i just want you here."

he smiles and kisses her forehead.

"you're doing so well, okay? i wish i could do more for you than just hold your hand or rub your back," he frowns, "i just hate seeing you in so much pain."

"it's all worth it though, right? we get a baby at the end of this," she's softly spoken, having only just had an epidural to ease the pain she was feeling and to help her cope with the aches of her contractions, "me and you, can you believe that? not once did i ever picture us in this position when i saw you on tiktok all those years ago."

he snorts out a laugh and blushes softly.

"i'm so glad i commented on that one video you stitched onto mine," he reminds her, "don't think i'd be as happy with life than as i am now. never did i think i'd be a dad, though."

"you're going to be such a good dad," she says, "such a dilf."

yeah... so... i definitely love this girl-dad!george au that had risen up on this blog. i have a few messages in response to it so i'm going to work on them. i just love the idea of all of the boys being girl-dad's. :'))) please tell me i am not alone! anyway! thank you for requesting this. my inbox is always open for george and arthurtv chats on here. xx

[i-cant-sing]

I can't stop laughing anytime I think about like toddler reader/baby fushiguro waking people up at night like "I frew up"

Lol okay this is how I imagine they'd react:

Yandere Papa Toji Fushiguro:

He hears the sound of your little feet padding in, cracks an eye open and sees you standing there with a small face and teary eyes.

"What's wrong?" He croaks out, a hand reaching out to caress your face.

"I- I threw up."

Toji nods, pulling you up on his bed and grabs you a water bottle from his table, pushing it to your lips.

"You good?" He asks, wiping your face with his shirt.

"Yeah."

"You wanna sleep with me tonight?"

You nod, letting him plop you on his chest, kne arm securely around you while the other pulls the covers up.

Toji kisses your forehead and pats your back until you fall asleep.

Yandere Uncle Naoya Zenin:

You could've gone to anyone in the Zenin clan and they would've happily coddled you. But no, tou decided to give your beloved uncle the heart attack of his life.

Like Naoya opens his eyes and sees a dark shadow standing right next to his face and he almost shits the bed.

Luckily his hand hit the lights first.

"Y/n?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

You suck your bottom lip. "I- threw up."

"And? What do you expect me to do about it?" Naoya asks, watching you shrug. You then proceeded to throw up again, barely missing his foot. Naoya gasped at your audacity, as you stood there and stared back at him after you finished puking.

"Can I go run outside?"

"What-? NO!" Naoya face palms, before grabbing you, all his annoyance washed away when he felt how warm you were.

"Shit." He whispered. You're running a fever.

Naoya picked you up, letting you rest your head on his shoulder and walked out of his room, and down to one of the servants room. Of course, he kicked the poor guy off the bed to wake him up.

"I- who the fuck- M-master Naoya?!" The servant corrected himself.

"Shut it. Fetch the doctor, and have one of the chefs cook some soup for Y/n. And this better be done in the next 20 minutes or so help me god, I will break your neck."

Yandere Choso:

Panics. BIG TIME PANICS.

He thinks you're doing because why else would you be emptying your stomach?

Hauls you up and pretty much zooms to Yuji and wakes his ass up.

"YUJI! Y/N'S DYING!" and Yuji looks over at you and you look pretty content for someone who's dying.

"Choso, I need you to tell me what happened, calmly."

"I- I was holding her little hand when I put her to bed, Yuji- you know she can't sleep without holding my hand! And then, all of a sudden she lurches up and starts throwing up!"

Yuji looked at you both for a couple of seconds. "Is that it?"

"What do you mean "is that it"? SHE IS DYING-"

"Choso, shut up. Come on, I'll show you how to fix this."

Yandere Sukuna:

You summoned Sukuna in the middle of the night and he was concerned because he knew it was way past your bed time. But he masked his concern, as he usually does.

"What do you want, little brat?"

"I threw up..."

Sukuna sighs, picking you up and walking to the kitchen. He warned up some water and added a couple of leaves in it.

"Drink this, it'll heal your stomach."

When you smelled the concoction, you shook your head. But he persisted, pushing the hello kitty cup to your lips.

"Drink it. Or else you'll be sick for the rest of your life and you won't get to go to that pink hell cat store."

Of course, the bluff works.

Sukuna takes you out to the garden, a light breeze in the air. He unconsciously rocks you back and forth to sleep, his heart swelling with joy that you came to him for help.

There's something wrong with my tumblr because I can't give double spaces in between paragraphs.

[countrymusiclover]

10. Mood Swings

Part 11

Texas Romance

@tyrionsprincess30

Kicking open the bathroom door I drop on my knees throwing up my lunch. Lifting my head up I gasped gripping the toilet wiping the contence off my mouth. It's been a couple weeks since Georgie and I slept together. Sitting on the floor I feel tears falling down my face at the thought of what this means. I promised to my parents that this wasn't going to happen. That this wouldn't be a possibility until I am married. The bathroom door opened for me to see foosteps outside the closed stall until they knocked. "Y/n, I got your call from the office. Can I come in?"

Missy cracked open the door dropping down beside me handing me paper to wipe my tears. "Are you sure you're pregnant?" Shaking my head I bury my face in my knees sniffling. "I picked up some tests this morning and it's positive. God Miss, you shouldn't know about this go back to your classes." I try waving her off feeling like a crappy friend for telling a middle schooler my issues then an actual adult. "You're my best friend. I'll always be here with you..." Instead she pulled me in for a hug letting me cry in her shirt, crying herself when I mumbled into her shirt. "What is Georgie gonna think, Miss?"

A few hours later I just walk down the sidewalks my arms wrapped around myself with my head down not feeling okay to go home to my parents. A truck humming comes up beside me where I hear Georgie calling out as he drives slow. "Hop in, darlin'." Shaking my head I keep walking where he just follows seeing me sniffing out tears so he pulled the truck to a stop. Undoing his seatbelt climbing over the seats. "Y/n, are you okay. Why are you crying, talk to me." Spinning on my feet I can't take it anymore I just need to be in his embrace. So I run forward opening the passenger door flinging myself in his arms staining his shirt. He stiffened a little slowly hugging me back pulling me to sit in his lap. "We're so in trouble, Georgie....I'm pregnant!" I sobbed not knowing what else to make myself better since my emotions are on high.

"Hey, hey, it's uh - it's gonna be okay." He tried to reassure me until I clutched his blue tea shirt blurring out. "It's yours, Georgie - we're in freaking high school and we're pregnant!" Georgie froze for a second slamming the passangers door closed helping me get my seatbelt on and slamming the gas. He drives us to the laundry mat that he started working at when Dale fired us. Opening the door he tugs me into a closet grabbing his Memaw and pulling her into the room too. "We need to tell you something - I - uh we screwed up." Georgie runs his hands through his hair as I slumped to the floor feeling tired and slightly sick again. "Can you - uh hand me the-" Georgie grabbed a trashcan before I puked again hearing his memaw stomping her foot. "You knocked her up!"

Georgie leans his head on the wall clutching his hands into fists trying to not freak out. Memaw bends down holding my hair back until I got it all out of my system. "It's going to be alright sweetie. Have you told your parents yet?" I wipe away more tears hugging my knees to my chest. "They'll hate me if I tell. I promised my parents and you that this wouldn't happen and look where I am now!" Picking up one of the empty laundry baskets I cry throwing it across the room. Memaw yanks her grandson by the collar of his shirt, gently helping me to stand on my feet. "Now listen here. I'll help you tell your parents. But you take her back to my house. Y/n you can stay in my spare room for now." Throwing my arms I sniffed into her shoulder a thank you before we left.

"You probably hate me now don't you. I understand if you wanna break up." Georgie mumbled under his breath one hand on the steering wheel glancing my direction. Resting my chin in the palm of my right hand I whipped my head his direction. "What - what makes you think that I'd be feeling either of those things?" He shakes his head throwing his other hand up in the air. "Because like you said we're in school and are both seventeen. We're not ready for a baby...maybe I should just drop out and beg Dale for my job back." Unlocking my seatbelt I slam my foot on the break throwing our bodies a little back into the seats groaning.

Bawling my right hand into a fist I aggressively punch his arm where he rubbed where it was sore now glaring at me. "What the hell was that for, Y/n?" Throwing my hands up I grip my hair shouting at him. "In what universe do you think that I'd hate you for making me be pregnant. Because I gave you concent and I freaking said I love you, did that mean nothing-" He started to say something but I cut him off. "I'm not done yet. Secondly, dropping out of school is a horrible idea. One of us needs to get a diploma and it probably won't be me since in nine months I'll be birthing a child!" He lays his head on the steering wheel making it go off for a second raising his voice at me. "Then tell me what exactly to do here!" Throwing my head back in the seat I press my face in my hands. "I don't know, Georgie - I don't know..." He reaches forward resting a hand on my back making me look into his deep eyes. "We could get married, if that helps us."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[dawn-petrichor-world]

Once upon a Grimm

Summary: It took you time for your Wesen part to come out. You're alone since you can remember. You're a freak and freeze in rock every poor soul who sadly crosses your way until she hunts you and almost kills you but finally can't.

A/N: A week ago I had this thing in my mind so I wrote about it and It took me time because of my job but for three years I’ve had some kind of issues hearing my Muse. I have ideas and that is, nothing else. So here it’s my second fic, longer, and I’m worrying.

Warning: sexual assault. Blood. English is not my mother tongue, be nice, please.

+1.5k not proofread.

"It's been days since the last accident. It was an accident, I swear! I don’t do this on purpose. I can’t control it! I always do my best to not hurt people. If I can do something differently, I will but I don't wanna die. I need more time." You plead.  

In the middle of the night, you were crossing Portsmouth Park the only shortcut to reach your home. Not what we call home, located in a cave but you can barely afford food so a real place to sleep.  

This night was quietly different from others and by that, the park was silent and the air seemed freezing. Perhaps due to winter’s coming but shivers took your spine, you knew something wrong. You told yourself if you were faster you would be safe, so almost walking out of the park someone stopped you by grabbing your shoulder.  

A creepy man was standing in front of you and he was talking but any sounds came to you, so focused on the knife shining in the moonlight threatening your life. He seemed lost and angry plus he held and pressed your arm like it was a squeeze ball. You were trying to free yourself from his grips, grabbed the blade away with your bare hand which one sore, but you didn’t notice it because adrenalin ran through your veins and finished both of you on the floor. He was drunk as hell and smelled so bad now he was on you. You pushed him, scratched his face, growled, and hissed when he was inappropriately touching you and felt something poke your leg. You looked above your head to get help, but you knew it was useless at this time of the night, but you saw a shiny thing, the knife. If you could reach it, you thought.  

Time missing as well as your strength, he was about to do bad things you knew it, you were bloody scared and angry. Then it happened again.  

The man who was flesh and blood became under your eyes, grey and cold. His skin was hard as a rock. No more moving nor breathing, nothing at all just a stone man statue.  

Still under him, you crawled backward to get yourself free.  

"Wow. That was amazing.", said a voice.  

You held the knife and stood up a bit too hasty to face the person that made you daze, you were punched right in your face. Holding your bleeding nose, you rushed toward them who stopped you easily and kicked in your stomach making you puke your dinner. While you wiped your mouth, took a deep breath, and held hardly your thigh wanting not to fall on the grass a second time, something kept your attention, something big. This person in the light of the moon was a girl, with short black hair, holding a huge blade and walking toward you. A deep growl came through your throat, you were about to fight when your reflection in her eyes abruptly stopped you. Some things are hissing and moving on your head, you put hands on your face which looked different. You wanted to be closer but she punched you again and this time you fainted.  

Some random noises wake you up. Your face hurts in so many areas, you try to localize where the bruises are, to know if something is broken and you feel even your hand, received medical care, hurts, this one was taken the blade.

“It's about time”, you hear.  

You jump on your feet, ready to fight, look around and see this girl the same who punched you like a piñata with her bare hands, she's leaning on a wall, your cave’s wall, and eating bread.

“That was my food, my last stock”, you point out to her. She nods and doesn’t seem sorry. She stares at you, up and down with interest and doesn't look afraid about what happened, and uses her machete for cutting a slice of bread covered with something greasy. She proposes to you what she qualifies as a breakfast burned in the pan after reminding you of the last food, you left at the park but only the bread familiar you take.

With the tip of her machete, she raised your head making you uncomfortable. Firstly, it smells meat that makes you frown, the greasy thing on it drips all around the blade and on your chin. Secondly even after you plead about the accident with the drunk man, she doesn’t put down her knife but she sits on the couch slides next to you, and continues to examine you.

She’s so close that you can see she has brown eyes, you can smell the fragrance fruity of her shampoo. She has three pale marks on her cheeks: one on the left side beneath it two beauty marks, and two on the right side. There are other beauty marks on her face but you are more focused on her mouth, her hot pinky lips which are revealing white and bright teeth. A big smile. You gasp, your heart skips a beat, and you jump stray from her.

“I'm Trubel by the way, glad to meet you”

"She's not like other Wesen. The description you gave us reminds me of something I saw in one of the books" says a man named Monroe from another room.

"Wesen?" you repeat, sitting on a beautiful sofa in a huge house like a mansion.

A woman named Rosalee comes to sit nearby, her beauty makes you forget how to breathe. She has long, curly medium-brown hair with some strands of hair lighter than others, her nose is so perfect and her kindness warms your heart. So she tells you about Wesen who are species different from basic humans. You look at her without understanding what she said and she seems sad about the lack of your knowledge, your heir. Monroe reappears with a book and sits on the other side of the sofa, making you in between. He’s a handsome man with a blue shirt and a nice brown gilet on it. He has a mustache and a beard, dark chocolate eyes behind glasses to help him to read what’s in the book. This book contains a horrific draw of a woman and Medusa wrote above it bring your attention.

“It will be faster if she has a quick demonstration than sketches in the book. She’s one of yours who live in a cave and never saw one of your kind” says Trubel and looks at you and adds “it astonishing the first time but you will use to it”

Rosalee cups your hands in hers and smiles at you, it looks like she tries to reassure you. Then her face changes. There's fur all over her face, brown and white hair: cheeks, forehead, chin, everywhere. Her ears are sharped, appears between her hair. Even her eyes changed, at first, they were brown but now they are yellow. She's still beautiful but you weren't prepared, it makes you jump and you realize even the face of Monroe changes, not the same as her. Him, is scariest and furious and has red eyes.

Another man comes into the house, his eyes turn completely black like Trubel's eyes, who trying to calm down everyone who panicked. Behind the second man there's a mirror, you can see your reflection but it is not really you, it's not the same face.

Snakes are all around your head, literally they replace your hair. Your eyes change as well and are green and the shape of your pupils are thinner like a reptile’s eyes. Your teeth are also different with four fangs and even if it’s not pleasing to see this, your tongue is longer.

“Emotions” say Trubel to break the silence. “Emotions are why your face change. And we call it woge, when Wesen change their ‘normal’ face to another one, their true nature”

“I'm a freak!” You say with horror “It’s my fault. I killed all those poor souls because I’m a monster and I can’t control myself.” At the same time you turn to face others who instantly close their eyes to avoid being changed into a statue.

“Hi! I’m Nick. I didn’t know what’s going on here but I have a clue now and I’m able to answer some of your questions” say the man with blue-grey eyes which were completely black when he through the door. “Anger, fear, sadness and some other kind of excitement make a Wesen woge and these emotions are spontaneous. There are Grimm like Trubel and myself who are capable to see it, to see who is a Wesen or not. The only reason a simple human can see someone woge it's because they want to. And there are books with sketches in it and descriptions.”

“In Wesen’s books, there are stories about Grimm hunting our kind because they’re used to kill us but not Nick and Trubel”, starts to say Monroe.  

“Why Grimm kill Wesen? What’s kind are you?” you ask

“Many are killers, abuses of their power, think they’re more powerful than basic human so Grimm and Monroe is a blutbad and I’m a Fuchsbau” answer Rosales

“A wonderful Fuchsbau” you whisper thinking no one hears but they’re all looking at you and smile. “What's a medusa?" You add after cleaning your throat .

Hope you liked it. My Masterlists.

@marchtothefuckingsea

[moonrazeeclipse]

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either  weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,362 Pairing: Teenage!Daryl Dixon x Teenage!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: mainly pre-outbreak Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence A/N: Angsty and fluffy and angsty and fluffy! AGH! Summary: Daryl and Y/N are close growing up. Y/N knows about his bad home life and worries when Daryl doesn't show up at school one day.

Your name: submit What is this?

You were kicking a rock down the road, humming some stupid song you’d heard on the radio, when there was a familiar voice from behind you.

“Hey.”

You turned and grinned, knowing immediately who it was before you even saw him. “Daryl,” you said warmly. “Hey.”

He had his hands shrugged into the pockets of his secondhand black jeans. “What’re ya doin’?”

You laughed and shrugged. “I dunno. Wasting time. Kicking rocks.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and took him in. You could tell immediately that something was bothering him. “You okay?”

How did you always know? Even when he was trying his hardest to hide it, you always knew. “Yeah, just—” he chewed his bottom lip in that anxious habit he had. “Water got shut off again. My old man didn’t pay the bill.”

Your expression turned a bit sad and you nodded. It was mid-summer and the Georgia heat and humidity was suffocating. They never had air conditioning at the Dixon house, but no A/C and no water was a big problem. “Come on,” you said, tilting your head in the direction of your house down the street. “You want to come hang at my house for a while?”

Daryl considered your bright and open expression and then nodded. “Thanks.”

You nodded. “Of course. C’mon. My momma is workin’ the night shift so she won’t be home until God-only-knows-when. Ya can stay as long as ya like,” you said. Daryl fell into stride beside you.

“Thanks,” he said again.

“Sure.” You nudged him with your shoulder playfully. “Ya want me to help you with the Algebra homework?”

He rolled his eyes at you. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl. You’re way smarter than you think. If you’d just try—”

“Why? Ain’t like I’m gonna go off to some big fancy college like you,” he said, kicking a rock along. It skipped on the gravel and stopped in front of you.

“Ya could. If ya wanted to,” you said, hitting the rock again with the toe of your boot. It went skipping along the road in front of you again.

“How the hell would I pay for that?”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “There’s financial aid. Scholarships.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no college givin’ me a scholarship the way my grades are.”

“That’s why I said try,” you replied gently.

“Nah. Ain’t happenin’.”

You always felt so sad when Daryl talked about his future as an inevitable dead end. You knew he wanted to get away from his drunk asshole of a father and you also knew that he had plenty of reasons why he couldn’t focus on his schoolwork. Hard to focus on class when you’re wondering when your next meal or beating is coming… But you saw so much brilliance in him that he refused to see in himself. You decided to drop the subject for now and simply glanced over at him. His blue eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile. “Ya hungry?” you asked, kicking the rock down the road again.

He avoided your eyes again but nodded. “Always. That even a question?” he drawled.

You turned onto the driveway of your house and soon climbed the steps, pulling open the front door and nudging your head toward the cool interior. “We’ve got chicken pot-pie in the fridge,” you said. “Ya can have the rest of it. I swear, it’s the only thing my mom has been buyin’ lately.”

A short time later, you were flopped down watching TV while Daryl sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the front of the couch. His empty dish was sitting on the coffee table and you jumped up and grabbed it as a commercial came on. “Ya want some more?”

He looked up at you and one corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Nah. I think three helpings was enough,” he said, pushing his dirty hair out of his face. “Thanks…” he said, a little more bashfully.

You nodded. “Sure.” Daryl climbed to his feet and followed you into the kitchen. He watched you set his dishes in the sink and then fill up two glasses with ice water, putting one down in front of him. He felt your eyes on his face and glanced up to meet them. “You wanna clean up while you’re here?” you asked.

He shook his head and glanced back down at the glass in his hands. “Nah. S’alright.”

You prodded him gently. “Ya sure? It’s not a big deal. I can wash your clothes and you can shower. I was gonna do some laundry anyway. Probably have somethin’ you can wear til they’re dry. Promise it ain’t a sundress,” you joked. You glanced at the clock. “We’ve got some time to kill before tonight’s terrible monster movie comes on anyway,” you said brightly. That was your thing; watching old monster movies from the ‘50s and ‘60s. You weren’t even sure how it had started, but it was just what you did together.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He hazarded a glance back up at you. He was always so grateful for how you saw him, looked at him. Your expression never suggested anything other than open acceptance and genuine care. Finally, he nudged his nose up at you. “Alright. You win,” he said, downing the rest of his ice water quickly. “Let’s go pick out my sundress,” he said, eliciting a laugh from you.

Daryl followed you upstairs and you grabbed a clean towel for him out of the linen closet. “Hang on a sec. I’m sure there’s something in Brody’s room you can wear.” Your older brother was away at college. You returned a moment later with some clean clothes and thrust them at him. “You know where the bathroom is. Since I will puke if I eat any more pot-pie again this week, I’m gonna make popcorn. Just put your dirty clothes outside the bathroom door and I’ll throw ‘em in the wash.” You turned to head back downstairs and Daryl found himself watching you go until you disappeared.

“Hey, don’t watch the movie without me!” he called after you.

“Well then hurry up!” you called back up. Daryl smiled.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A short while later, you and Daryl were side by side on the couch. His clothes were tumbling in the dryer and now that he was clean, he realized just how dirty he had felt before. You were both munching on some popcorn from a huge bowl sitting between the two of you on the couch. Daryl always teased you about how much you made at once.

“Christ, are ya eatin’ this for your next four meals?”

You would pull a face at him. “No. Just for dinner. And knock it off or you don’t get any.”

Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the damsel in distress on screen run from some deep woods swamp creature, your knees pulled onto the couch and bent underneath you to the side. “I don’t understand this—if somethin’ is chasin’ you why would you run in a straight line, completely visible!? At least take a turn every now and again! I mean, look at all that thick brush she could disappear into!”

Daryl let out a small laugh. “That’s what your problem is? There’s a 9 foot tall, muck-man chasin’ her and that’s what ya take issue with?” he drawled.

You turned and gave him a manufactured look of annoyance and chucked a handful of popcorn at him, eliciting a gruff laugh. “You know what I mean!” you said. You heard the washer stop spinning and went to change the laundry over into the dryer, chucking one more handful of popcorn at Daryl as you got up.

“Hey!” He brushed the popped kernels off his shirt. “Ya know I’m gonna retaliate eventually and it’s gonna be much worse!” he yelled after you.

You laughed as you started the dryer. “Oh, I’m real scared! What’re you gonna do, Dixon?” You appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with your arms crossed over your chest and not looking the least bit intimidated.

“I’ll think of somethin’,” he said. “C’mon. Movie’s back on.”

You rushed back to the couch and moved the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table, sinking down in the empty space now beside Daryl.

He couldn’t stop glancing over at you and he felt suddenly fidgety, chewing on his bottom lip and practically having to sit on his hands to keep them still. Luckily, you didn’t seem to noticed, and it wasn’t too much longer before you laid down on the throw pillow at the other end of the couch, curled up with your eyes still on the screen. And not much longer after that before Daryl noticed you were asleep. The first movie was over, and some old rerun of The Blob was no playing.

Daryl noticed goosebumps on your arms and wondered if you were cold from the A/C vent blowing overhead, just in your t-shirt and shorts. He grabbed a quilt from the chair nearby and tried to cover you up without waking you.

But you stirred as soon as you felt the fabric on your arm and sat partially up, blinking awake and meeting his blue eyes, which seemed care-free for once and brighter than expected in the dim light from the television screen. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Was tryin’ not to wake ya up.”

You sat up all the way, clutching the quilt over your lap and looked up at him. “Thanks. What time is it?” Daryl glanced over at the time on the VCR.

“S’late. I should go… Let ya get some sleep,” he said.

“Oh, your clothes,” you said, climbing to your feet. You went to the laundry room and grabbed his freshly cleaned clothes from the dryer. “Go ahead and get changed and just leave those in the bathroom.”

While Daryl was changing, you went to the kitchen and filled up a water bottle with ice and cold water from the tap. He came out, looking much more like himself now that he was out of your brother’s old shorts and t-shirt. “Here,” you said, pushing the water bottle toward him. “In case you get thirsty on the walk home,” you said giving him a small smile.

He gave you a long look and seemed like he was on the edge of saying something, but he couldn’t get the words out and simply nudged his nose up in a nod at you. You always thought of the littlest things to make his life less shitty and did them for him without hesitation. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle. “I’ll give it back to ya tomorrow.”

He started toward the front door and you followed to walk him out.

He turned on the entryway rug, his hand on the handle. “Hey, tell your mom ‘thanks for the food’ when you see her in the mornin’, okay?”

You nodded. “Sure thing. You walkin’ tomorrow?” You already knew the answer. He always made the half hour walk to school, and you did it together most days.

“Duh,” he said, one corner of his mouth flicking up. “Ya comin’?”

“Duh,” you returned with a wide smile. Daryl felt his heart jump.

“Alright. See ya then. Thanks. Night.” He pushed out onto the porch and you caught the screen door as he ran down the steps.

“G’night,” you called after him. He turned and waved one last time over his shoulder and then he was gone into the still darkness outside. The cicadas seemed to grow louder as you stood there, and it was a fitting soundtrack to the immediate rise in your anxiety after Daryl disappeared. They seemed to grow so loud they were almost defeaning. You always worried about him when he went home. There was no way to know whether his dad would be passed out drunk or waiting up angry. You knew sometimes Daryl would just wait outside in the dark until he could either sneak in through a window or until he was sure his father was asleep or too drunk to move. Your heart ached. You wished more than anything that you could just fix it. He deserved so much better… You were always amazed that his heart still was so good considering all the bullshit he had been through, losing his mother and their home, his brother running off, and all the shit he was still going through. Sure, he could be angry and moody at times, but who wasn’t at your age?

Finally you sighed and closed up the house, heading upstairs to try and catch some sleep before school the next day.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were finishing packing lunch when your mom came down, still in her scrubs from the hospital. “Morning, mom,” you said. She came over and gave you a hug and left a kiss in your hair. “How was the shift?” you asked, grabbing a banana off the counter.

“Oh, just the usual. Nothing exciting. Lots of old people.” She was a nurse and always worked the night shift. She yawned and grabbed a mug and put on the tea kettle. “I’m exhausted. Mr. Jones came in again needing to be back on oxygen. Pneumonia again.”

“Oh, no…” you said, glancing at her. “Did he throw things again this time?”

She let out a wry laugh. “Of course he did! Nearly took my head off with a damn bed pan.”

“Seriously?! I hope it was empty!” you exclaimed, and you both dissolved into laughter.

“Luckily, it was. Or I would not be in such a good mood this morning… What’d you get up to yesterday? How was school?”

“School was fine. Daryl came over for a while. We watched some terrible Swamp Thing movie of course,” you said.

Your mom laughed and opened the box of tea and grabbed a tea bag. “You two. I do not understand your obsession with those monster movies from my generation,” she said.

“I dunno. They’re funny. Anyway… I gotta go. Gonna meet Daryl to walk to school.” You kissed her cheek and grabbed your things. “Love you! Get some sleep!”

You rushed to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up to walk to school, but were surprised to see that he wasn’t there. He was always there waiting before you. You dropped your bookbag, checking inside to make sure you had grabbed your lunch and the second one you always packed for him… And then you waited. And you waited. And waited… But there was no sign of him. And now you were worried. Maybe he’d gone ahead for some reason? He had never done that before. But soon you knew that if you didn’t leave, you’d be late for class, so you hastily scribbled a quick note on a sheet of notebook paper and left it under a rock at your meeting spot before heading to school.

You looked for him as you made your way through the halls to your locker, but you didn’t see his familiar silhouette anywhere. And he wasn’t in any of the classes you usually had together. At lunch you couldn’t focus on any of your friends’ conversations because you were so busy worrying about where the hell he was…

Over the course of the day, you felt sicker and sicker. You made sure to grab materials for him in all the classes you had together so he could get caught up on what he missed, and by the time the final bell rang you were determined to see him and make sure he was okay. You hastily waved goodbye to your friends and started the walk home, but instead of going straight there, you paused at the meeting spot where you usually met Daryl and saw that the note you had left that morning was still sitting underneath the rock. You collected it and shoved it hastily into your pocket. You stared up the dirt road that led into the woods and to the Dixon house. You took a deep breath in and tried to hold onto your courage as you turned up the path.

It was strange how the trees seemed to insulate from sounds of the outside, but amplify everything taking place inside the woods. You startled when a crow let out a raspy caw and took off nearby, the beating of its wings so loud in your ears that you could hear the hurried rush of the air through its feathers. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you came at last to the muddy driveway that led up to the dilapidated little trailer house. The ‘No Trespassing’ sign burned red in your peripheral vision as you carefully picked your way between the puddles and deep mud, trying not to sink your shoes into it up to your ankles.

You gulped and hesitated at the front step, but you forced in a breath and knocked.

Your heart was racing and you could feel your pulse in your fingers and toes as heavy bootsteps and cursing sounded from inside the house. The inside door was yanked open and an imposing man stood there, separated from you only by the thin screen door.

He glared at you, his lips almost curling into a sneer immediately. “Didn’t you see the goddamn sign?! Get the hell outta here! I don’t want whatever the fuck you’re selling!” he growled. He was tall and lean, but looked powerful and you gulped, suddenly thinking that maybe this wasn’t a great plan…

“I’m—” you had to clear your throat. Your voice came out quiet and somewhat strangled the first time. “I’m not selling anything, sir. I’m—I’m a friend of your son. Is he here?”

Mr. Dixon let out a scoff and never quit staring at you like he could snap at any second and come rushing through that screen door. “My boy ain’t got no friends. He’s too damn worthless. You got the wrong house,” he said, turning to slam the door already.

You weren’t sure where you got the courage from but you quickly shouted to stop him. “I don’t have the wrong house, Mr. Dixon! I’m—I’m a friend of Daryl’s. Please. Is he here? I just have some, um, school work for him…”

He stared at you again for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. They were sharp. “He ain’t here.” You were sweating with nerves under his gaze. “You goddamn women are only good for one thing, and I know he ain’t man enough to be getting any tail, so I don’t care why you say you’re here, but it ain’t no good reason. Now get the fuck off my property!”

You felt your face burn, some combination of anger, humiliation, and shock at being talked to that way by a grown man. You decided to try one last time. “Are you sure he’s not—”

Daryl’s father kicked the screen door hard and it flew open violently. You jumped back and let out a small scream of surprise and fear. He stepped out onto the stairs, his hands clenched into fists, and you could see that he was wavering a little on his feet, drunk, but also shaking with rage. “I got a goddamn shotgun sitting right inside here and I won’t be waitin’ much longer to use it unless you get the hell outta here right now!”

You quickly turned tail and ran, not caring at all that you were sloshing through muddy puddles up to your shins on your way back onto the dirt road and away from the house. You ran all the way back to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up before collapsing onto the grass. You shut your eyes and pressed your hands over your face for a moment. “Shit… shit.” It suddenly occurred to you that maybe going there had been entirely the wrong move. What if going to his house and asking about him got him in trouble? What if you had just endangered him more than he already had been? You felt tears burning in your eyes and blinked them away, popping back up onto your feet, which were squishing in your mud-soaked socks and shoes, and you trudged the rest of the way home.

It had felt like the longest evening of your life. You’d drifted around your house, hoping Daryl would come bounding up the porch steps at any moment, ready with some sarcastic comment or that quick twitch of a smile. But he didn’t. You knew your mom usually took a break around 8 pm, and you called the hospital, needing to hear her voice.

“Hi, honey. Is everything okay?”

You anxiously bounced your knee, feeling like you were about to cry again.

“…honey? Are you okay?” Now there was worry in your mom’s voice too.

“I’m—I’m okay. It’s just—Daryl wasn’t at school today… We had planned to walk together and he never showed up, and then—he wasn’t in any of our classes…” you trailed off. Your mom knew Daryl’s home life was bad, but you’d never told her how bad. Daryl had made it clear plenty of times that he didn’t want you telling anyone—not your mom, not the school counselors, not his teachers, not the cops, no one.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You twirled the phone cord anxiously around your finger, winding and unwinding. “Well, maybe he was just sick today,” your mom offered.

“Mom, Daryl doesn’t get sick.” You chewed your bottom lip. “When Daryl gets ‘sick’ it’s because—because stuff at home has gone really wrong.”

Her silence on the other end of the line was heavy until she finally sighed. “I wondered. I mean, I’m a nurse for Pete’s sake. It’s not like I didn’t see the signs. Oh, honey… and how could anyone ever lay a hand on that boy? He’s got a heart of gold.” Her voice was low and sad.

“I know… What—what do we do?”

“I suppose, unfortunately, we just have to wait and see if he’s back tomorrow. It’s only one day… If he’s not at school tomorrow, you tell me and I will deal with it,” she said. “Try not to worry yourself too much, hun. I’m sure he’s fine.” But her tone was half-hearted and you were unconvinced. Your stomach twisted as you thought about more endless hours of waiting ahead. “I gotta get back to work, sugar. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night at work.”

“Love you,” she cooed.

“Love you too,” you said. You hung up and your house had never felt emptier.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come, when you thought you heard something on your window. Your first thought was that a cicada or other insect had flown into the window. It was a small plink sound against the glass. But when it happened again, you shot upright in bed. And then it came again. You rushed over to the light switch and flipped it on and then went to the window and pulled back the curtains.

You could barely see a familiar silhouette by the dim glow of the porch light. You hastily pushed the window open. “Daryl?”

“Hey.”

“Just—just hang on! I’ll come let you in!” You raced downstairs and clicked on the hall light, unlocking and throwing the front door wide open. He was standing on the steps and you could see that one of his eyes was almost swollen shut and was surrounded by angry bruising. “Oh my God.” You felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. “Daryl…” you stepped back to let him in.

He strode in past you, ducking his head a bit. “Yeah. He’s usually pretty careful about hiding ‘em. Guess his hand slipped on that one…”

You closed the front door and locked it again, turning to take him in. Daryl watched your eyebrows knit together and form a deep worry line in your forehead. The next second you had thrown your arms around him in a hug, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “I was so worried about you!”

You heard him let out a strained exhale, a wince really, even as his hands landed on your back and he hugged you back. You pulled back suddenly and Daryl’s hands slipped onto the bare skin of your upper arms. “You’re hurt worse?” you asked him, looking up into his bruised face.

His hands dropped from you and you both lamented the break in contact. Daryl ducked his head again. “M’fine. What the hell were you thinkin’ comin’ to my damn house? Are ya crazy?” But you could see that he was almost smiling as he said it.

“I was thinking that I needed to know you were okay,” you said, turning and leading the way into the kitchen, flicking the light on as you went. “You heard that?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding. “I was—I couldn’t get to ya.”

You nodded, your expression sad and overwhelmed with worry. “Your dad is…”

“A bastard,” he said, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table. “Ya. I know. M’sorry ya had to go through that.”

You looked at him with consternation. “Are you kidding? You’re apologizing to me? Daryl…” You went to the freezer and grabbed out a bag of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a clean dish towel. “Here. Put this on your face,” you said.

Daryl mumbled a thank you and pressed the makeshift cold pack over his eye. He was wearing a black t-shirt and as you stood beside him you noticed some dark spots on the material. You gulped. “Daryl…”

“Hmm?” he glanced over at you and saw that your eyes were fixed on his back. His stomach twisted. “S’nothin’,” he said.

You gave him a skeptical and deeply concerned glance. “Let me see,” you said gently.

He dropped the ice pack from his eye again and hesitated for a moment, nervously licking his lips and bouncing his knee. He trusted you, more than anyone, but this was still hard… Finally, he set down the ice pack and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it off over his head, wincing as he moved.

When the light cotton was pulled clear, you saw that his entire torso, his ribs, his sides, his back, all a cruel dark purple with shades of black and blue. Across his back were raised lashes, some open and bleeding, the reason for the dark spots you had seen on his t-shirt. He sat there with his eyes turned down and his shoulders slumped forward.

You couldn’t help it. The tears just started streaming out as you looked at what had been done to him.

“Hey,” he said, turning toward you a little, hearing your hitched breathing. His blue eyes landed on your face, took in your desperate expression. “S’alright,” he drawled softly.

Those words only made the tears pour out faster. “I should be saying that to you—” you managed. “But I don’t even know if that’s true. Daryl, you can’t keep livin’ there with him. He could kill you one of these times.”

He gulped. He knew you were right. Of course he did… “Where the hell am I supposed to go? Run off and find Merle? Go into the system? Because you and I both know neither of those are gonna work.”

You hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Here. You can come here. I can talk to my mom—”

“Nah. Nah, ya’ve already done enough for me. Ya do enough. Christ, Y/N, ya pack me a damn lunch every day. I eat dinner here more nights than not.”

“It’d be fine! My mom loves you! And—and so do I,” you said quietly. You felt nervous flutters in your stomach. You’d never told him that before, but it was true.

Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face again and he gulped.

“You’d be safe here. And taken care of the way ya deserve to be,” you said.

Part of him wanted that more than anything. He wanted to agree and escape from the shit life he was living in that shit house with his shit father. But the idea of being a burden, and he truly believed that’s all he would be, the sense that he wasn’t worth it was so engrained in him that he rebelled against that other part of him that wanted to reach out for help, for escape. He avoided your glassy eyes again and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, with no small amount of effort.

You felt like your heart was breaking. “Why not?”

He wouldn’t look at you. You just wanted him to look up at you. You wanted to see his blue eyes and convince him. But he wouldn’t. “I just can’t…”

“Daryl—”

“No! It—it ain’t your job to save me, alright? And I ain’t—I ain’t your burden! Just leave it alone.”

“You’re not a burden.” You tried to swallow the tightness in your throat but it didn’t work. You sniffled and wiped the tears from your cheeks again. You’d pushed him enough. You let it drop. “Is he gonna know you’re gone?”

Daryl replaced the ice pack on his swollen and bruised eye. “Nah. He’s on his next bender now. He’ll be so drunk he can’t see straight for at least the next few days.”

You nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you patched up and somethin’ to eat,” you said quietly. You filled a glass with ice water and grabbed the lunch you had packed for him that day from the fridge, setting them down in front of him at the table. You grabbed his bloodstained t-shirt and murmured a soft “I’ll be right back.”

After throwing in some more laundry, his shirt with it, you climbed the stairs and retrieved the First Aid kit from under the sink in your bathroom. You paused for a moment, leaning heavily on your hands, gripping the edge of the basin so hard your knuckles were white. You glanced up at your pale and somewhat wide-eyed expression and wiped a few more stray tears away, steeling yourself. You needed to just be strong for him. You knew he was trying his hardest to hold himself together and you going to pieces wouldn’t help anything. You’d spoken your piece and there was nothing else to do at that moment besides care for him.

You came down with a pile of supplies and dumped them on the kitchen table next to him.

Daryl seemed frozen, still as stone, holding the ice pack to his eye and occasionally drinking for the glass of water you’d given him. You grabbed a washcloth and wet it with some alcohol. Daryl twitched a little as your fingers landed lightly on his bare shoulder.

You withdrew for a moment after he startled. “Sorry,” you said, replacing your hand gently. “This is gonna sting,” you said.

“Can’t be worse than it is now,” he said quietly.

You could tell his wounds hadn’t been tended to at all and it took you some time to carefully clean the dried blood from them, dabbing gently at the raw skin and cuts. You worked in silence and Daryl nervously bounced his leg and spun the water glass on the ring of condensation it had shed onto the table.

After you were satisfied that they were clean, you grabbed some ointment and spread it over the entire length of each as gently as you could. Your stomach twisted as you stepped back and took in the whole view of his wounds and bruises. “Alright. Done.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Here. Take some of these,” you said, putting a bottle of Advil in front of him. “I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain.”

You moved around in front of him and sank down on a chair, sighing. Your brow was still knit and Daryl read the worry still on your face. “M’alright,” he said.

You shook your head. “No. You’re not.” You paused and grabbed the makeshift ice pack, replacing it in the freezer before nudging your head toward the staircase in the hall. “C’mon. You’re stayin’ here with me tonight.”

Daryl’s brow quirked down and he briefly chewed his bottom lip. “…Why?”

“Because it’s safe. And I just can’t let you go back there. And you need real sleep and we both know that you won’t get that if you’re under the same roof as him.”

Daryl considered your determined expression and finally nodded. “Alright.” He stood up, wrapping an arm around his ribs as they ached when he moved, and followed you up the stairs. You flicked the lights off as you went.

The door to your bedroom was standing open and Daryl hesitated at the threshold as you pulled the blankets back on your bed. You tossed an extra pillow down next the one already at the head of the bed.

Daryl gulped, nerves at the thought of staying with you so close all night suddenly overwhelming the aches and pains running through him. “I’ll take the floor,” he drawled.

You shot him a quizzical look. “You’re not taking the floor,” you said. “You’re covered in bruises. Come on. You take the other side. Just shut the door behind you.”

After shifting his weight a bit nervously for a moment, he finally crossed the threshold and shut the door softly behind him. You settled down in bed, heaving a sigh as your head hit the pillow. Daryl gingerly laid down on the other side, facing in toward you. His eyes met yours as he settled in, wincing a little as he moved his arm up under the pillow. You were close together, your faces merely six inches apart and Daryl could see your eyes flitting over his face.

“Ya sure this is alright?” he drawled quietly. “Yer mom…”

You shrugged. “She won’t even know. It’s okay.”

Daryl licked his lips absently and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Daryl looked puzzled.

“It’s not fair,” you went on. “That someone as good as you has this happening to them.”

Daryl gulped nervously again, your words kindling a rush of heat in his chest which seemed to spill into his face. “Ain’t yer fault.”

You nodded, looking a bit sad, but beautiful in the warm glow of the single lamp on your nightstand. You turned and clicked it off, and maybe it was the darkness that gave you the courage to, but you reached over and found Daryl’s hand with yours in the dark and slipped yours beneath it, pressing your palm to his.

Daryl felt his stomach flip with surprise but he thrilled at the grounding touch from you. For once stopping himself from overthinking it, he laced his fingers with yours, and soon both of you were asleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Some years later

“Don’t fucking move.”

Daryl froze, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth.

“Put your hands up where I can see them. Away from the bow.” The voice belonged to a woman and despite the tense and potentially dangerous situation he now found himself in, Daryl felt his stomach flip, seemingly responding to the voice peculiarly.

“Stand up.” Daryl obeyed and stood up slowly, in disbelief that he hadn’t heard whoever the hell this was approaching in the almost silent woods. That left him feeling particularly curious and a little uneasy. He didn’t like that anyone was able to sneak up on him… “Now turn around. Slowly.”

Again, Daryl complied, his hands still up, turning slowly to face toward the woman holding him at gunpoint.

But neither him nor you expected the person in front of you and you felt a tug somewhere behind your navel and the muzzle of your gun dropped involuntarily just as your mouth fell partially open. You felt like the air was ripped out of your lungs as you took in the familiar face in front of you. “What the hell?” The words fell from your lips without you even knowing it. But you would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. You lowered your gun the rest of the way. “D—Daryl?”

He finally dropped his hands his eyes narrowed and intense. “Are ya gonna shoot me?” he drawled. His voice was deep and gruff and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin. One corner of his mouth flicked up in the same way it always had back when you were kids.

You gulped, your hands still on your pistol. “Do I need to?”

He let out a gruff laugh. “Nah. I dun think so.”

You holstered your gun, still paralyzed, your boots seemingly rooted into the soil.

Daryl was the first one to move. He rushed over to you and hugged you almost desperately, but you were still in such a state of shock that by the time you moved to return it he was already breaking away. Your eyes were searching as you looked at him and he just peered back at you with that classic Daryl Dixon stare.

“S’real fuckin’ good to see you, Y/N,” he said. He bent and picked up his crossbow, swinging it over himself and onto his back in a fluid and well-practiced movement. He tilted his head at you. “Why the hell did ya stick me up, hmm?” he asked.

You snapped yourself out of your reverie, actually shaking your head slightly. “Uhh—My camp is near here. I don’t like strangers,” you said absently, still unable to trust your eyes that this man standing in front of you was the boy from your past. “Daryl—” You weren’t even sure where to start but you suddenly felt a swell of anger. “Daryl, what the fuck?” you demanded.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

“I—I thought—you just—you left! You were just gone!” Before you knew it there were tears spilling out onto your cheeks and your anger was rising. “What the fuck!?” you yelled at him. You rushed toward him and pushed him hard in the chest. He simply took it and staggered backwards. “Why did you do that?! You didn’t even say goodbye to me! You didn’t tell me you were leaving, you didn’t tell me anything! You just—you were just gone! Do you know what I thought? Do you have any idea?!” You shoved him again and still he just took it and stepped back to regain his balance. “I thought maybe you were dead!” The tears were pouring out more quickly onto your cheeks and you reached out to shove him back again, but this time he gently caught your arm and held it. His eyes were soft and you crumbled underneath them. “I thought maybe you were dead. I thought your dad—” you gasped in a heaving breath.

“M’sorry,” he said. You stared at him, fighting emotion. “M’sorry,” he said again. He gently tugged you closer to him and you allowed it. “M’so sorry.”

You fell into him and felt his arms wrap around you as you squeezed your eyes shut. “M’sorry, Y/N,” he whispered to you. His hands flattened out on your back and smoothed over it and he held you until were able to stop yourself from crying. You straightened up, hastily wiping the tear streaks off your cheeks.

You laughed a little wryly at yourself. “This is so stupid. I’m—I’m crying over something that happened over a decade ago,” you murmured.

“S’cuz it still feels like it just happened yesterday. Ain’t stupid,” he said.

You took him in for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. It does.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You brought Daryl back to your camp and you both did you best to catch the other up one what life had been like since those hazy summer high school days. Most of it didn’t seem to matter anymore now that the world was what it was—all nightmarish and broken. But there was one question you had to ask him as you sat by the campfire that night.

“If you could do it over,” you hesitated, “would you do the same thing?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, a questioning noise.

“Would you just leave, like you did? Or would you do it differently?”

Daryl considered you quietly for a long moment. He had always thought you were beautiful and that hadn’t changed. He had always known you were kind and smart and caring and funny… and that hadn’t changed either, despite the hell around you now. And he still felt like there was a string, a golden thread that led from his heart to yours, tying the two of you together, and that still felt connected. It had never been cut. Not after all the time and all the distance. “I ask myself that just about every day. Think about ya every day,” he said, feeling a bit bashful under the gaze of your brilliant eyes. He turned back to stare at the crackling fire in front of you both. “I dunno if it woulda turned out any better or worse, or even any different but—I do regret not havin’ ya around all this time. Maybe my biggest regret in life.” He glanced up at you again and marveled at your thoughtful, open, and slightly sad expression.

You nodded subtly. “Mine too.”

“The reason I didn’t come tell ya I was leavin’—” he hesitated, biting his bottom lip anxiously. “Is because I knew ya’d try to stop me. I knew ya’d ask me to stay… and if—if ya asked me that, there would be no way I could go.”

You gave him a sad smile and had to blink away the glistening moisture in your eyes again. You cleared your throat and nodded. “I’m still mad at you,” you joked softly.

He let out a small laugh. “Thas fair…” Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “So, yer really alone out here?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Well, I’ve got a group. Good people. Family. If ya wanted to, ya can come back with me. Yer—yer family too. I promise they’re all good people,” he drawled. He watched you carefully, anxiously trying to read your reaction.

You nodded slowly. “I trust you,” you said.

He cleared his throat, feeling a swell of happiness at your response. “I won’t leave ya again,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Ya better not.”

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART TEN

:Masterlist:

A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3

(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3

-

December 1994

Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.

Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.

His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.

Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.

Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.

How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.

He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.

Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.

You were his best friend.

The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.

You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

-

2020

All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.

The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.

“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.

“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.

“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.

Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.

“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.

“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”

“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.

“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.

Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”

Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.

“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.

“Teddy-”

"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"

"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.

You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."

“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”

"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.

Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.

You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."

You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."

-

When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.

When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.

"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."

Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"

"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."

"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.

You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.

Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.

You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.

“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.

“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.

“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”

“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”

You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.

“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.

Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.

“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”

The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”

“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”

“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"

You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."

As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.

Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.

From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.

Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.

"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."

As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.

You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.

Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.

"And then there were two." Luke joked.

You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.

"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."

"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.

-

The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.

You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.

By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.

“You okay?”

She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”

You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.

“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”

You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.

But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.

"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."

You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’

The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.

The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.

As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"

She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.

There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.

After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.

Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.

Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.

She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.

Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.

The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.

You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.

You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.

Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.

Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.

You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.

Even if it was just for one last song.

Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.

The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.

You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.

“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.

You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.

“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.

“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.

You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.

“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”

“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”

“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.

Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”

You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”

Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."

"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."

"You do?" He asked.

You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”

"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"

Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.

Wait, what?

Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.

“Guys, come here.”

Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.

“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”

You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”

Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”

It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”

You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.

Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”

The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”

“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.

You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”

“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.

Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.

“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.

“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”

You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”

You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.

"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"

You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.

Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.

Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.

"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”

“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.

“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.

Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”

You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"

"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."

-

The End

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15 @rachmmb @musicismyescape27 @stackie4ever​ @spidermankenobi

(Strikethrough means I can’t tag you)

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Into The Woods

Warnings: noncon sexual acts; vaginal, anal.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re sent to make a delivery to the man in the woods.

Note: This is for @imanuglywombat​ and @nellblazer​‘s Lumberjack Challenge. I couldn’t see if they were accepting dark fics so if they aren’t, I guess it’s just another fic lol. But anyways, the challenge inspired me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You sure Dezy isn’t going to make it?” You asked as you helped Gerry load the crate onto the trailer. 

“I’m sorry, I got all the other deliveries sent out with Milo but this one’s too far for him.” Gerry grunted as he closed the back of the open-top trailer. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Dezy. Second day in a row and yet I hear he’s down at the Horse every night.”

“Well, he’ll run out of beer money sooner than later,” You sighed as you pulled on your gloves. The air was starting to bite as the brief autumn was turning. “You sure you can manage without me?”

“Slow day in the shop,” He shrugged. “You just be careful.”

“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You climbed up onto the four-wheeler and fumbled with the thick key with the grizzly bear charm attached to it. “Maybe next time give me the easy ones.”

“I’ll tack an hour of overtime on your pay, how about that?” He chuckled. “You need to get out anyway. I know this place is small but you can’t spend all your time reading those harlequins in the dry good section.”

“They’re not harlequins,” You turned the engine and raised your voice as you gripped the handlebars. “They’re fantasy, Ger.”

“Sure, sure,” He backed away. “You go or you won’t make it back by sundown.”

“Never far off these days,” You mused as you revved. “See ya, Gerry. Don’t forget to down stock the fishing wire.”

“Which one of us is the boss?” He called after you as you pulled out, the small trailer rumbling behind you.

You turned off at the end of the street, past the business fronts that looked like cabins. The town looked straight out of Western but with more snow. The first of the annual powder had yet to fall but you could feel it coming. You headed over the lumpy tundra past the sparse trees that grew thicker the further you got. The paths turned narrower and you steered slowly through the damp forest.

You only went so far out when your uncle took you ice fishing and rarely in this direction. You slowed as the path grew more uneven, carefully traversing the thick roots and deep valleys. The noise of the engine bounced off the trunks of trees around you. It was more than an hour before you reached your destination. At least, you thought you were in the right place. Weren’t too many cabins hidden in these trees; well not many still inhabited.

You pulled into the clearing and killed the engine. You hopped off the ATV and stretched your legs, your thighs tingled from the rumble. You went to the trailer and open the door and slid out the heavy trunk. You braced yourself before you lifted and gave a grunt. You’d packed the load yourself. You carried it past the old motorcycle and the neat stack of wood which marched the way to the broad front porch. You slowly ascended the three steps up and set down the heavy crate beside the door.

A bench made of logs, likely by hand, stood just a few feet from the front door, a woven blanket folded over the seat. The curtains were drawn within and you started to wonder if there was anyone there or if this was just another forgotten scene. It all seemed so eerily still.

You knocked and waited for an answer. Nothing. You tried again with the same result. Then, after a cold silence, you heard a door open and snap shut but it wasn’t the one before you. You turned as a man appeared beside the far corner of the porch. He appeared disturbed by your presence as he emerged from the old shed, his flannel jacket marked with patches of dirt and his dark hair poking out from beneath a woolen cap.

“He usually just leaves it there,” He clapped his gloved hands together as he brushed away the filth. “Thanks.”

“Uh, sorry,” You turned and ambled down the steps. “I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be sorry,” He stayed near the corner, kicking his foot up onto the stump where an ax waited to be used. “Better get going before the sun beats you.”

“Sure,” You went back to the four wheeler. His eyes bore into you as you climbed up. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just--”

“Thanks,” He said again. “Driving out here all this way. Appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You turned the key. “Have a good day, sir.”

The engine roared to life and you carefully turned around, the empty trailer clattering behind you. You couldn’t help but feel him watching you still. You wanted to look back, but didn’t. You twisted the throttle and delved back through the treeline. You hoped Dezy would get his shit together, you weren’t keen on doing deliveries.

🪓

The next day, you were back to your usual fare. You stood at the long counter of Elk’s General, watching the locals as they wandered in and out, perusing the aisles of groceries, clothing, or novelty goods. You rung them through on the outdated till and smiled after them as they left with their paper bags.

The usual midday lull came and you pressed flat your latest read on the counter. You crossed your arms over the edge and bent over the pages, losing yourself in the fantastical medieval setting. Gerry didn’t mind so much as you kept an eye on customers. 

The rusty bell above the entrance tinkled and you looked up suddenly. You turned your book over before you could lose your place. You stood up straight and smiled at your newest customer but froze as his eyes met yours. It was the man from the day before, to whom you had delivered the weeks worth of goods.

He ignored your usual greeting and marched over to you. He planted the bill for his delivery on the counter.

“I ordered six cans of maple beans. I have only four.” He said plainly.

“An oversight. I’m sorry, sir. Just a moment.” You gulped and flitted off to check the shelf. There were only the tomato beans in stock. You went to the back room and checked there. Nothing. You returned to the counter. “Looks like we’re all out but I’ll make a note to have them delivered when we get more. Or we can remove the charge from your bill.”

“Keep ‘em on,” He said as he reached into his pocket. “I can wait.” He unfolded the worn leather wallet. “I have to pay my account anyway.”

“Sure,” You reached to slid his bill closer and keyed the amount into the machine. “You could have called--”

“I don’t have a phone,” He growled as he counted out the bills. “I don’t like to be disturbed.”

You took the money and counted it. You avoided his gaze guiltily. You sorted the bills in the cash door and handed him his change. His gloves brushed your skin and he tucked the money away with his wallet.

“Good book?” He pointed to the novel.

“Alright, so far,” You answered quietly.

“I read his other one. The one set in Ancient Egypt. It was… interesting. Not my usual reading material though.” He tapped his fingers on the counter. “You have a good day, miss.”

He turned and left you as you returned his farewell. The door snapped shut behind him and you looked back down at the book. You opened the front page and read the list of works by the same author. You’d have to look into them.

🪓

Several days late, you were helping Gerry restock shelves with the newly acquired truck. The night before, you’d helped unload it and left it for the next day to sort through. Dezy sat behind the counter, half-keeled over on the stool, trying not to puke into his hands.

“Damn shit is hungover again,” Gerry muttered. “I got a whole list of deliveries today and he can’t even stand straight.”

“I can do it,” You offered. “Long as he can manage the till.”

“I don’t know if I even trust him to do that,” Gerry said. “You sure you wanna do the deliveries?”

“We got any of the maple beans on the truck?” You asked.

“A good amount.” He said.

“We owe two cans to-- well, I didn’t get his name. The man who lives way up in the trees.” You frowned, only then realising you new nothing about him. In that town, everyone knew everyone.

“Mr. Barnes?” Gerry reached over into the box and moved around several items before pulling out a can. “Quiet man. Doesn’t like to be bothered. Must’ve scared Dezy good to get him to shut up.” He took out two more cans. “If you’re willing to head up that way, you give him and extra can on me. He’s the only customer in town who pays on time.”

“Sure,” You stood, thankful not to be forced to kneel all day at the shelves. “The list?”

“Pinned up behind the counter as usual,” He caught a box of Corn Pops he hit with his elbow and swore. “Take a radio. Snow’s comin’.”

“Will do,” You said. “I should be that long.”

“Chill blowin’ in from the lake, bundle up before you go too.” He said.

“You sound like my mother.” You laughed.

“I feel like you’re mother,” He shook his head. “Now go, before I get sentimental.”

🪓

Gerry was right, it was cold. The four-wheeler seemed slower as the wind swirled around you. You stopped by each house and knocked before leaving your haul. You smiled away tips and bid each resident a good day before you rushed away under the protests of another delivery ahead of you.

Your last would take the longest, though it was the smallest. The tree cans rattled around the trailer so you stopped at the shop before you continued on and detached it. You placed the cans in a small box and secured it to the seat behind you with bungee cords. You fixed your gloves and pulled your cap over your ears before you set out once more.

The sky grew paler the later it got. A harbinger of snow. You took the same route as before, getting off once to push the ATV over a fallen branch caught beneath it. You carried on, the frigid air lashing your cheeks.

You drew up to the clearing as you had before. The motorcycle was gone, likely pushed into the shed in preparation for the first snowfall. The piles of wood had grown taller and the front door was open, the screen door a poor barrier to the looming winter.

You unhooked the box and climbed up the steps. You bent to set it down and be off. You looked up as you sensed something on the other side of the screen door. The man, Mr. Barnes, stared at you through the mesh, a mug in hand. You stood and smiled nervously.

“Your beans. An extra can for the inconvenience.” You said. “Have a good day, sir.”

You turned but caught yourself before you made it down one step as he spoke. 

“It’s pretty cold.” He remarked as he took the box in his free hand. “You like coffee? I just made a pot.”

“I appreciate it,” You turned to him. “But I don’t mean to impose on you.”

“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” He said stiffly. “I’d feel worse letting half a pot go to waste.”

“I don’t know, I should--” You glanced behind you at the trees.

“You came all this way to give me beans in this,” He held the door with his elbow and stepped through. “You don’t like coffee, I got tea.”

You took a breath as you looked back to him. “Sure. I’ll have some coffee.”

He nodded and stared at you. He blinked and moved to hold the door open. “Well, you wanna come inside? Or do you prefer your coffee frozen?”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” You kicked yourself and stopped right before the door. You smiled awkwardly and offered your name. “I just… figured you wouldn’t want a stranger in your home.”

“Bucky,” He returned and waved you inside. “Not many strangers in town. Not really.”

You entered and he followed you. The entryway was lit by an antique lamp and the front room was entirely dark. You knelt to unlace your boots as he stepped around you. You kept your coat on as the wind continued to seep in behind you.

“Kitchens just down the hall past the stairs,” He said as he continued across the wooden floor. 

“Okay,” You slid your boots off and stood, following his shadow to the kitchen. 

As you passed through the doorway, he placed his mug on the table and went to the cupboard. He took down another thick ceramic cup and sidled over to the stove. He filled it from the percolator and returned to the table to place it before you.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“I’m fine, black is good,” You accepted as he slid the cup over to you.

You sat, hesitantly, and removed your gloves. You tucked them in your pocket and wrapped your hands around the steaming cup. He pulled out another chair and sat. He looked into the mug and slowly drank from it.

“I didn’t know anyone still lived out here.” You said.

“Sometimes,” He answered carefully. “Spring and summer I spend working the lumberyards south of here.”

“And you live all the way up here?” You wondered. He gave you a sharp look. “Sorry, it’s just… curiosity.”

“I like it,” He shrugged. “It’s quiet.”

You nodded and resigned yourself to silence. You listened to the wind outside and looked around at the tidy kitchen. Most of the original structure remained, renovated but not replaced. Even the curtains seemed to be of another era; faded but without holes or tears. All the way up here, time always seemed to stand still.

“You finish your book?” His voice jolted you.

You looked back to him and sipped the hot coffee. You nodded again.

“I did.” You answered. “It was alright.”

“Just alright?” He asked. 

“I’ve read better and worse,” You said. “It was… entertaining.”

“Mmm,” He mumbled and drank his coffee. You mimicked him, eager to leave.

Ten minutes of silence and stunted small talk left your mug empty and your stomach gurgling. You stood and nervously teetered on your feet.

“I should go. It’s snowing already.” You glanced out the window.

“Sure,” He rose and gathered up the mugs and took them to the sink.

“Thank you.” You said and turned rigidly to head through the door. 

You trod down the hallway and stopped to pull on your boots. You adjusted your cap and shoved your gloves on. He neared and you pushed open the door and glanced back at him.

“Coffee was good.” You said.

He caught the door behind you and you marched across the porch. You rushed down the steps and shivered as you neared the four wheeler.

“Be careful,” He said in monotone. 

“I will, thank you,” You called back as you climb onto the seat. “Enjoy your beans.”

He waved and you turned the engine. You backed up and turned around. The snow had already left a thin powder across the ground. You steered into the trees and carefully began to weave around the trunks and along the uneven forest floor. 

The snow thickened the more it fell. You had to slow as the ride became more precarious. The downfall formed a thick carpet beneath the tires and soon, even beneath the shroud of branches, the snow formed a curtain all around you, making it nearly impossible to see. You stopped and left the motor rumbling.

You pulled the radio from its holster down beside the wheel well and turned the dial until you picked up the signal. It was static and crackled.

“Gerry? Gerry!” You held the speak to your lips. “Gerry?”

“Yeah, i--me, ---okay?” His voice went in and out.

“I’m okay but the snow is… I can’t see. It’s going to take me a while.”

“Wha-- breaking up--” The radio broke off with a high pitched scratch.

“Damn it!” You shouted and tried fixing the dial. It didn’t help.

You sat for a moment and put the radio back. You couldn’t stay and let yourself get snowed in. You’d have to keep going, slow but steady. You carefully pulled past the trees, blinking away the flakes as they gathered on your lashes. You stopped again to pulled your scarf higher over your cheeks and pressed on.

The third time you paused, you realised you were lost. A brief lull allowed your vision to clear and you had no idea where you were. You kicked the side of the ATV and cursed. You grabbed the radio again and turned it on.

“Gerry?” No answer. Several more tries with nothing but static.

You hung your head and clicked the radio off. You gripped the handlebars and looked around. You’d have to turn around and try to trace your way back but the snow was starting to get heavy again and--

“Hey,” You jumped as the voice sounded from behind you. “You okay?”

You turned to find Bucky standing by a tree. “How--”

“Looks like you just went in a big circle,” He said. “You’re about ten minutes from my place.”

“What are you doing out here?” You asked.

“Wanted to grab some kindling before the storm got too bad, then I heard you.”

“Kindling?”

“Dry it out, obviously, but might run out of what I have before this clears,” He looked up. “Look, it’s only gonna get worse. Why don’t you wait it out?”

“I don’t-- I can’t--”

“There’s more than enough room for both of us. Might be a bit dusty but… Wouldn’t feel right letting you get lost out here.”

You exhaled and looked at the radio.

“Alright,” You relented.

“I’ll lead the way.” He came up beside the ATV and passed to the front. “Just don’t get too close.”

“Okay,” You turned the throttle just a bit and kept a snail’s pace as he guided you.

He barely seemed bothered by the gusts or the deepening snow. Even as the air turned almost completely white, he didn’t waver though you squinted to keep an eye on him.

“You like beans?” He yelled back to you as he broke through to the clearing around his house.

“Maple beans?” You asked dryly.

“They go great with toast,” He said as he continued onto the shed and unlocked the wide doors. “Warm you right up.”

🪓

You sat at the table, alone. Bucky had excused himself after clearing his own plates. You still picked away at the beans and sausage, listening to the movement above. You scooped the last few bites up and swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of water. You stood and went to the sink to rinse your plate. As you set it in the rack, you were startled by a creak behind you.

“I cleared a bedroom for you. It’s a bit dusty around here.” Bucky said as he leaned against the door frame. “Bit cold, too. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” The windows shuddered. “Better than out there.”

“I put some clothes out too. Might be a little big.” He explained. “Dinner okay?”

“Yeah, it was…” You tried to smile. “Alright. Um, just one second.”

You neared him and he moved aside. You went down the hallway to where your jacket was hung and pulled the radio out. He watched you as you fiddled with it and the speaker crackled on.

“Gerry?” You held it to your lips.

“Kiddo?” He said, clear but not entirely.

“I’m okay,” You said slowly as you held the button down. “Staying until storm clears. Call in morning.”

“Roger, kiddo,” He returned. “Be safe.”

You turned off the radio and placed it back in your coat pocket. You looked up at Bucky as he stared at you dully.

“Just wanted to make sure someone knew,” You said. “Wouldn’t want them to worry.”

“Of course not,” He said. “You want a beer?”

“What?” You were thrown off by the sudden offer.

“Beer. If you want you can grab a book from the study,” He pointed to the doorway opposite the front room. “Sit in front of the fire where it’s warm.”

“I’ll take the book,” You said. “I’m not much for beer though.”

“Hot chocolate? Tea?” He stepped a little closer.

“I’m fine,” You squirmed. “Thank you.”

‘Just let me know if you need anything,” He said softly. “Haven’t had a guest in a while but… I can be accommodating.”

🪓

You read three chapters before you found your way upstairs. Bucky showed you the room he’d prepared for you but didn’t say much more before he closed himself into his own. You changed into the long sleeve tee he left you and the jogging pants with the drawstring waist. You tucked your feet into the wool socks and rolled under the blankets. You were still cold. The top floor was entirely untouched by the fireplace below.

You drifted into a shallow sleep. Maybe an hour or two before you woke, shivering. You sat up and  reluctantly climbed out from beneath the covers. You took one of the blankets and wrapped it around you as you shuffled to the door. You slipped through, carefully not to let the hinges whine and plodded through the dark down the stairs.

In the front room, the fire burned a low amber. You crept over to it and took a log from the wrought iron basket just beside it. You placed it over the coals and stoked it with the poker until flames began to lick. You held your hands to the glow until you were no longer shaking.

You took a cushion from the couch and dropped it on the carpet. You laid down before the fire, wrapping yourself in the blanket as you basked in the warmth. You listened to the violent winds outside, softened by the heaps of snow which had gathered all around the cabin. Your eyes closed as you began to sink into the darkness around you.

You dreamt of the four wheeler, of the snow swirling around you, of losing yourself in the pure white. The trees curled and clawed at your as you were thrown from the seat. The snap of twigs filled your ears and your eyes snapped open. The fire popped as it burned, the room lighter but not much.

There was a heaviness around you. More than just the quilt, the thick arm wrapped around your middle held you close to the warmth at your back. Startled, you wriggled against the body and a groan slithered along your ear.

“What the--” You hissed as you grasped his wrist, his hand tucked beneath you. “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” His breath was hot as it seeped into your scalp. “You were shivering.”

“Let me go,” You tugged on him.

“Shhh,” He hushed. “It’s early.”

“Dude, not cool,” You pulled harder on his arm.

“Stop,” He said more firmly. 

“Get off of me.” You growled.

“You’re not a very gracious guest,” He snarled as he retracted his arm, only to grab your shoulder and push you flat on your back.

You latched onto his wrist, he was strong. He didn’t budge.

“You’re scaring me.”

“Scaring you?” He removed his hand. “How? What do you think I’m gonna do?”

He sat up, his broad shoulder stretched the waffled shirt he wore as he rubbed his eyes. He pushed his head back and took a deep breath. You pushed yourself up slowly beside him.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand settled on your thigh and he squeezed.

“Stop,” You tried to push his hand away and he flipped it to grasp yours. 

His grip slipped to your wrist and he twisted. He wrenched it over your head until you were forced onto your back. You cried out as he leaned over you, the blanket slipping entirely from your bodies.

“Came all this way for a few cans of beans,” He whispered. “Really?”

“Stop!” You repeated. “Please.”

“But you’re cold,” He uttered as he leaned closer. “You need to warm up… you’re shivering…” His nose touched yours. “Or… shaking?”

“Get--” His lips smothered yours as he shifted his body atop you. 

You struggled as he released your wrist and reached down to grab your knee as he forced his legs between yours. He bit your lip as he pulled and his hand clawed at the waist of the loose pants. He pulled until he snapped the string within and you kicked around him.

“What are you doing?” You beat on his shoulders. “Stop! Stop!”

“I don’t talk to people, they don’t talk to me,” He snarled. “I keep to myself. Even that dumb delivery boy of yours knows better.”

“No, no,” You slapped his chest as he sat up suddenly. 

He tore the pants down your legs until they were around your knees and pushed them up. The fabric kept you trapped beneath him, legs bent to your chest as he leaned over your once more. He brushed his nose against your cheek and snarled.

“You asked for this, honey,” He sneered. “You just couldn’t leave me alone… The way you smile at me, I can see it.”

“I was just--” You pushed against him. “--doing my job. Please, get off of me.”

He moved against you, his thighs pressed to yours as he felt between you. He pushed his own pants down and you tried to shove him off of you with your legs. You only made yourself dizzy.

The fire flickered against you, setting shadows across his features, his blue eyes caught the flame and glowed sinisterly. His rough finger tickled your cunt as he guided his cock along your folds. You grunted as you fought harder beneath him. He pressed along your entrance and you gasped, a horrified scream as he impaled you in a single thrust.

“Go on and scream.” He said. “No one will hear you. No one but me.” He jerked his hips and you cried out again. “I kinda like it.”

He moved his hips in sharp, short thrusts. He grunted with each, lower and lower, almost like satisfied purrs.

He sat up and hugged your legs to his torso as he rutted faster. He clung to you as if he was desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough. You scratched at the carpet. You whimpered each time he slammed into you, each tilt of his hips harder than the last. The clapping of your flesh mingled with your voices. You closed your eyes, holding back the sobs that threatened.

And then he stopped. Suddenly. He stayed inside of you as his grasp on you loosened. His body quivered and a low growl rose from him. He pulled out of you and pushed your legs aside to that you fell onto your side. Shakily, you pushed yourself, on knees and elbow you tried to crawl away, your pants tangled around your feet.

He grabbed your ankles and dragged you back as you slipped onto your stomach. He climbed over you, pinning your legs between his. He kneaded and pinched your ass, dusky, thick breaths rose from him. 

He pressed his thumb between your cheeks and you reached desperately for anything to get away. The edge of the carpet rolled in your grasp and you kicked your feet with a panicked whine. He pressed his thumb against your asshole and you shook your head as he buried your face in your arms. He pushed inside and you let out a shrill cry.

He poked in and out of you, your tight ring burned around his thumb. He withdrew it and forced his index finger in, then added his middle. Your pained groans only seemed to encourage him as he stretched you around a third finger.

He pulled his hand away and bent his arm over your shoulders as he lifted himself over you. He lined himself up with your ass as his hair hung around his head and brushed the back of yours. He took a breath and you held one in. He entered you slowly, letting out a choked grunt as you strained around him.

The tears pricked at your eyes and your arm shot up as you blind grabbed at air.

“Please, please, please. Stop.” You begged. “I can’t--”

He pushed deeper and your voice fizzled. He pulled back and thrust in again. Every time, he went a little further. Soon he was buried in you to his limit and you couldn’t breathe or move. He held himself inside of you and shuddered.

He began to rock and you moaned. Despite the pain, the fire that radiated from your core, it felt good. The more he did, the better it got. The pressure built, unlike any you’d felt before, and you gulped and groaned against the carpet. Shocked by him, by yourself.

He got faster and faster. Louder two as his snarls filled your head. You tensed and then in an instant, your strength drained from you. You came, harder than you had ever in your life. You murmured as your head lolled and he kept going.

He lifted his head and his fingers gripped the back of your neck as he lifted himself over you. He hammered into you from above as you lay prone and helpless beneath him. He exclaimed and you felt a warmth flow into you. 

He stopped and fell atop you. His weight held you down, suffocated you. His arm stretched up and he grabbed your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

“Stay as long as you like,” He rasped. “Snow’s not letting up anytme soon.”

[whumpmatsus]

Ooo my bad, maybe Jyushi gets a stomach ache and Kara tends to him? Giving him water or something to ease the pain. Or getting him to lay down and rest!

aaaaaaa I love them 😭

-

To be completely fair to Karamatsu, his choice of restaurant isn’t really to blame for Jyushimatsu’s appetite.

In fact, it’s debatable that even Jyushimatsu is to blame for his appetite. It’s more the fact that he just eats so fastthat it would be a miracle if his brain registers that he’s had a whole meal before he goes back for more. Typically by the time he processes that he’s full, he’s had two or three more servings.

It’s no wonder that he often ends up with a stomachache if he’s given the chance to inhale more food than he really should. Most of the time, though, it quiets down after a little bit of relaxing and maybe a tummy rub from one of his brothers.

Of course, while the two of them are out at a fast food place, it’s not like they can just lie down in the middle of the floor and try to chill. … Well, they could,but they’d probably end up getting kicked out before making any significant progress.

So the second Jyushimatsu gets a little pale and complains that he’s not feeling too well, Karamatsu’s first immediate thought is along the lines of, We’re fucked.

And in Jyushimatsu’s defense, Karamatsu should have been a better big brother and cautioned him against ordering as much food as he did. Even if he had, however, what else could he have done except give a warning? Jyushimatsu’s an adult, it’s his money from the allowance Dad gave him, and he can make his own choices, can’t he? Or at least he should be expected to. He probably wouldn’t take being bossed around and told what to do, and it’s not like anyone can forcehim.

As usual, though, Karamatsu has let one of his little brothers down. The least he can do is try to make it up by figuring a quick way out of the situation. He springs to his feet, setting a hand down on Jyushimatsu’s shoulder. If they need to move fast, he should be prepared. “Alright, you don’t feel well. Understood, dear brother. Is it your stomach?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright… how bad does it feel?”

Jyushimatsu ponders the question for a second, before holding up both hands, covered by his condiment-stained sleeves, over his mouth. “Um. Gonna… gonna throw up.”

Shit.Karamatsu knows his little brother wouldn’t say something so decisive without knowing that yeah, he’s about to hurl. “Alright, let’s get up. Do you want to go to the bathroom here or try to make it to the car where I believe I have a plastic bag?”

It almost looks like he’s considering the possibility that he could make it to the car, then suddenly his face turns a bit green. “― Bathroom!”

That one word combined with his younger brother’s urgent expression and tone of voice spur Karamatsu into action. He moves like lightning, pulling Jyushimatsu to his feet and practically dragging the other man toward the tiny partition on the other side of the counter.

A three-part harmony shriek of horror tells him he probably should have paid more attention to the signs on the doors. He offers a hasty apology to the offended ladies inside as he yanks his brother away from the door. (Although he knows Jyushimatsu is desperate, even this kind of emergency doesn’t constitute staying in the women’s restroomto puke.) As soon as he does, Jyushimatsu gags into his hands and Karamatsu knows they don’t have much time. Once Jyushimatsu starts making audible sounds like that, the full event isn’t too far away.

“I-it’s alright, it’s alright,” he tries to reassure as he tugs Jyushimatsu into the men’s restroom. “If you can wait a second, we’re nearly there!”

He does his best, but they never even make it into a stall. Once the door closes, Jyushimatsu stumbles toward the mirrors… and proceeds to vomit into the sink. Geez.Karamatsu feels himself wince at the thought of the poor worker making like ¥100 an hour who’ll have to clean this up.

Well, he can’t focus on that part right now. This can’t be pleasant for Jyushimatsu either, obviously.

The sound of everything he’s just eaten splattering against the edges of the sink is no match for the way he’s retching and sputtering. It looks like he started out trying to brace himself with both hands clutching the countertop; now, he’s sunk to only having his elbows propping him up, both hands up against the side of his head.

Karamatsu sets a gentle hand on his brother’s back, trying to be of some little comfort while his entire meal comes back up. Though he can’t remember Jyushimatsu ever eating himself sick like this before, he supposes it was bound to happen sooner or later with the way the fifth oldest tends to shovel food down.

He wants to think this memory of his stomach turning itself inside out will serve as a lesson to slow down in the future. To be mindful of how fast and how much he’s eating. Even someone as hopelessly delusional as Karamatsu has to acknowledge that’s a long shot, though.

After a moment the gagging and heaving finally dies down. Jyushimatsu is left gasping as he tries to get his breath back. When Karamatsu peeks over, he sees that there are tears starting to roll down his little brother’s face.

That earns an extra few seconds of back-rubbing from Karamatsu out of pure pity that this was either emotionally draining or physically forceful enough to make Jyushimatsu cry. “Aaah, my little Jyushimatsu,” he hums. “Does it feel a little better now that you’ve been sick?”

He nods weakly. “A little. I… think I ate too much, Karamatsu-nii-san.”

“Hmph, I think so, too.” Karamatsu reaches over to grab a handful of paper towels, pressing them to Jyushimatsu’s mouth. “Next time you might eat a bit slower or listen to your big brother telling you not to eat so much. But… it’s alright. What else are big brothers for, but to care for their younger brothers? I think perhaps we should go home.”

“Mhm, yeah. I wanna lie down and snuggle a pillow against my stomach.”

Well, that certainly sounds like a plan. “Alright, then. How about a drink for the ride home? Something easy to settle your stomach.”

“Ooh… Sprite?”

“Mh, I think they have that.” He gives an affectionate squeeze to Jyushimatsu’s shoulder. “Will you be okay by yourself for a moment while I go get that and dispose of the trash we left on the table?”

“Yeah, mhm. I’ll hold onto the counter.”

Ah. Yeah. That’s a relief. At least it’ll keep him from getting dizzy or passing out if he tries to move on his own. “Good! I’ll be back before you know it.”

Karamatsu can’t apologize enough to the person working at the counter of this place, telling them that his baby brother threw up in the bathroom sink and he’d clean it up if he could but he should get his brother home just in case andalsoasmallSpritetogoplease?

For once, he can kind of understand why people think he’s painful. The cashier has this blank look before muttering, “Excruciating…”and ringing him out for the drink. He kind of wishes the floor would open up and swallow him and he’s pretty sure he now knows how Ichimatsu feels when talking to people all the damn time. He’s surprised he doesn’t just burst into flames from the sheer awkwardness.

After a bunch of apologies, he manages to herd Jyushimatsu into the car so they can head home. He does find a plastic bag for his brother to hold, just in case he feels like throwing up again, just until they get back.

To his credit, Jyushimatsu is calm as can be on the ride home. He sips at his Sprite and closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel motion sick and hums along quietly to the radio. He’s so cooperative Karamatsu wants to ask who the hell he is and what he’s done with Jyushimatsu.

When they walk into the house, he ushers Jyushimatsu through the main rooms, up the stairs, and onto the couch in the spare room. The others save for Totty are spread out among the floor; Choromatsu and Osomatsu seem to be reading, and Ichimatsu has a cat cradled up in his arms… wrapped in one of Karamatsu’s shirts. Fantastic. Nothing like cat hair all over his clothes so he’ll be all itchy and sneezy when he decides to try and steal it back.

As he tries to get his brother set up on the couch, Choromatsu seems to fully realize what’s going on. “Oh, hey, you two are back. That was pretty fast. Uh… is Jyushimatsu okay?”

Jyushimatsu waves his hands in the air. “I threw up!”

“Tch.” Ichimatsu shifts in position, stretching one leg out. “That’s what you guys get for going to a shitty burger place. Next time just eat here where the food’s free and won’t make you hurl.”

Karamatsu plops down onto the floor in front of the couch, and is promptly slapped over the shoulder by one of Jyushimatsu’s jellylike arms. “Hmph… as I’m still spectacular, you should already know it wasn’t the food. Sweet little Jyushimatsu just ate too much of it.”

“Geez,” Choromatsu chuckles as he gets up, “someone’s eyes are bigger than his stomach. Well, you guys are home now, so you can relax and maybe start feeling better.” He brushes a hand over Jyushimatsu’s stomach and earns a soft mewl of gratitude before pulling away. “How about I make you some ginger tea?”

Karamatsu moves to get up almost immediately. “Oh, no, Choromatsu, I’ll get it! All the rest of my dearest brothers were already relaxing, so allow me to―”

“Nooooooooo,” Jyushimatsu interrupts with a whine, pulling him back down with now both arms. In a. Very. Tight hold. “I want you to stay with me, Karamatsu-nii-san!”

“Ah…! Okay, alright…” He tries to take a breath and pats lightly at his brother’s hands. “A-ah, my sweet little Jyushimatsu… let go… ahahaha… b-big brother’s not going anywhere, I promise, so you can let go of him!”

“Aaaaaah.” Jyushimatsu’s arms go lax, though he starts tugging on Karamatsu’s hand while his brother tries to get a decent breath in. “Belly rubs?”

“Hmph… sure, anything for my dearest younger brother. Just let me know if I’m being too rough; I would never want to hurt you.” He adjust himself so he can still be in a comfortable position while being able to reach Jyushimatsu’s stomach, giving tender strokes as well as he’s able.

The door slides open and Choromatsu gives a quiet hum at the scene. “Well, you both try to chill out, then. I’ll go get that tea, alright?”

“Heyyyyy,” Osomatsu suddenly speaks up. “Can you make some for me, too?? Or maybe a beer? I’m thirsty!”

All he gets in response is the sound of the door shutting.

The eldest pouts. “Hey, I know you heard me!! You’re such an ass! Grab me a beer, Fappymatsu!!”

Karamatsu lets out a low laugh and continues to carefully rub at his little brother’s stomach. “Hmph, so things are totally normal around here. At least that’s a comfort, isn’t it, Jyushimatsu?”

“Ah-hah! I’d feel weird if we got home and everyone was being all nice to each other.”

“Heh.” He leans his head back with a soft sigh. “That’s right. You only need onebig brother to be nice to you and that’s me. Any other requests besides the tummy rubs, you beautiful bastard?”

Jyushimatsu giggles and nestles his head closer against Karamatsu’s. “Hmmm… nope! I think I’m good just like this.”

Karamatsu closes his eyes. “You know… I think I am, too.”

[softguks]

request!! jungkook had a bad day and you comfort him and it’s all fluffy? 💜

SOFT NIGHTS | JJK DRABBLE

+ jeon jungkook / reader

+ everyone has bad days. days where you want nothing more than to curl up in the comforts of your bed and cry, days where you feel like the world is turned against you, and days where everything is too much to handle. but for jungkook, there’s nothing better than coming home to you because you make bad days better.

+ 1.3k words

+ fluff and some comedy/crack, angst if you squint, boyfriend au, established relationship au, idol au | no warnings !

Jungkook has had a long day.

It’s evident in the way his shoulders slump, both out of relief and exhaustion as soon as he enters the house, shutting the door with a gentle swing and kicking his sneakers off. His head hangs low, tucked into his chest as he plops his keys into the little bowl at the front. A heavy sigh falls from his pursed lips, a sound so shaky and fragile, as if it could shatter like glass. Tousled wavy, brown locks fall in front of half-lidded chocolate eyes that are blank with tiredness and slightly glossy with frustrated and unshed tears. Long lashes flutter against rosy cheeks that are flushed under your scrutiny as you watch from your position on the couch with a frown. You close your laptop, placing it on the table as you motion for him to come over, a sympathetic smile on your face. Tossing his bag onto the table, he shuffles over, sock-clad feet swishing against wooden floors with his pretty lips pushed up in a pout as he approaches you.

“Long day, love?”

“Mm yeah.” his voice is lightly raspy and soft, something angelic and delicate you’ve always loved about him. His long arms reach out for your embrace, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as his arms wrap around you. His nose slots perfectly against the dip in your skin, pressing a featherlight kiss against the curve of your shoulder as he closes his eyes. Your fingers run through his messy locks of wavy brown hair, massaging his scalp and gently carding your nails along the soft locks. His hair smells suspiciously like your shampoo, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you chuckle.

“You wanna talk about it? Want me to order some food? Run you a bath?”

The slight shake of his head and the bounce of his curls is incredibly endearing, causing the butterflies in your tummy to stir as you smile down lovingly at the boy who has completely, wholly, and entirely captured your heart.

“Just wanna cuddle.”

The hushed mumbles tumbling from his rosy lips tug at your heartstrings, igniting something warm and gentle that tingles in your veins. It’s a beautiful feeling, like flowers blooming across your chest and hazy sunlight pouring in through glass windows. It’s a feeling that you’ve never experienced and even though it scares you, it also thrills you. It’s an addictive feeling that thrums in your bloodstream and flutters in your heart. It feels natural and right, like it was meant to be.

The tears that have long been situated in the corners of his eyes slip down his cheeks, body trembling as he tries to hold in his cries. Your heart breaks to see him like this, so vulnerable and fragile as he hides away from himself and his emotions.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath that fills his lungs with cold air. The pads of your fingers brush against the skin under his eyes that are stamped with purple moons, another reminder of his sleepless nights and constant pressure.

Sinking further into the plush cushions of the couch, you pull him closer, peppering kisses along his cheeks, up towards his forehead, and finally against pecking his mouth a few times. He looks so pretty like this, with his lips tinted red from your kisses, cheeks darkened in color —he swears that it’s the heat of the living room even though you know different— and the corners of his mouth turned up in a shy smile. The action of affection has him giggling, eyes bright with stars; little pinpricks of light that sparkle in the wide expanse of black and glow against the blankets of space. His smile is blinding, eyes scrunching up to form crescent moons as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Your fingers reach up to poke his dimples, only adding to his embarrassment and shyness (he will never admit how much he loves this) His cheeks color the shade of cherry blossom pink, the kind that dangle precariously from thick, woven branches on a cool spring day.

“I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. Don’t stress too much over it. You’re working hard and doing your best and that’s all that matters.”

“I know. I’m very lovable indeed. They don’t call me Mr. International Playboy for nothing y’know.” He grins cheekily, the curve of his lips elongated by the smile that graces his features.

“I’m trying to love on you but you’re making this so hard.”

Immediately, something mischievous twinkles in his eyes, flickering like a sudden beam of light in the warm brown depths of his eyes as a coy smirk stretches across his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, a shit-eating grin snaking across his rosy lips. “You know what else is hard? That you could take care of?”

Your expression immediately turns sour, causing a loud laugh to rumble from his chest, a sound so happy and him that you cannot hold back the smile that threatens to show. He is so Jungkook and you love that about him. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking disgusting and cheesy.”

“Only for you, baby.” His wink is so awfully adorable that it makes you want to kiss him a hundred times and puke at the same time.

“Are you tired?”

“Just a little. Can you keep playing with my hair?” Jungkook look adorable with his wide doe eyes staring up at you with so much tenderness in them that you cannot deny him of anything. He is so effortlessly gorgeous and you are so whipped for him —not that anyone could blame you, that you would give him the world if you could.

Love is a strange and finicky concept. It’s always sounded too perfect and cliche to be real. You’ve never been so in love with someone and it’s scary. The idea of loving someone so much that they become a part of you and a piece of you is terrifying. They become something you can’t bear to lose and a weakness. But with Jungkook, it’s different. He completes you. He brings out the best in you after seeing the worst parts of you. He wants all of it, the good parts, the bad parts, the scary parts, everything. His bright bunny smile showing off his pearly whites is enough to brighten your entire day, his laugh is enough to make your heart skip a beat, and his personality is something so bright and contagious that you cannot help but fall in love with him.

The gentle thrumming of the dryer and the low bubbling of the pot on the stove is enough to make him drowsy. After a long and tiring day of practice, his muscles are sore and ache with tiredness, exhaustion hanging off of his body. His movements are sluggish and slow, eyes drooping as deep slumber threatens to overtake him. He feels warm, safe, and loved, and there’s nothing more he could ask for at this moment.

Staring down at you through groggy eyes and slightly blurry vision, he admires the baby hairs that fall in front of your eyes, the little freckles and marks that decorate the wide expanse your skin like stars in the sky, the dusty pink flush that colors your cheeks, the small and tender smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, and the warmth that radiates from your body.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, you dork.”

You swear you feel him smile against your neck.

“Babe, this is important, get up.”

“What? Jungkook, go to sleep.”

“Why are pizzas boxes square, pizzas in the shape of circles, and pizza slices triangular?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, please shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

please reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed! remember to drink water and stay healthy and safe! sending love 💗

[softboywriting]

Can’t Hurry Love | Peter Mendes

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends for years and one day you wake up to realize you’ve fallen for him. When he finds out you’ve never been kissed, he decides to offer himself up as practice. One thing leads to another and well, maybe you’re meant to be more than friends. [friends to lovers] [first kiss]

Word Count: 2k

|Masterlist in Bio|

Note: None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.

No one tells you that falling in love with your best friend is the most terrifying feeling and simultaneously the best and most freeing relief. You don't know when it happened, what changed in you. You don't know why it happened. There is no pin pointing the moment you realized that your best friend Peter is the only person you want to share your life with. There wasn't a dynamic shift, a romantic gesture, a heart felt confession of love. Nothing. One day you woke up and met him at the end of the block to catch your bus to the college campus and your heart did a little flip flop when you saw him.

Perhaps you had been dreaming that night and you don't remember. That was your initial explanation for your new found feelings. You know, those temporary feelings that come with a dream about someone. It has happened before, not with Peter, but with other friends, crushes, random strangers you met in classes. But the feelings never went away, they became more insistent and every touch, every joke, every gesture became more than just a friendly feeling. They became soul crushing, heart clenching emotional moments that you replayed in your head every night before sleeping.

So here you are, three months later, walking up to Peter's house with your friend Haley. It's been hell, living with this secret and you've only told Haley about it. You're here for a party that Peter's brothers are throwing. They are going to the college hockey championships. It's a big deal around here. You brought Haley since she is absolutely gaga for Raul and she's been begging you to get her in with him since his last break up. She will be a good fit, and a far better girlfriend than any of the other girls Raul has dated. That is, if Haley can hit it off with him.

The moment you get in the front door the house is packed with people. Wall to wall partying. You part from Haley as she wanders into the kitchen and you head up the stairs. You know just where Peter's room is, you've only been here a couple thousand times since you were thirteen. Up the stairs, to the right, across the guest room and up the stairs in the closet to Peter's room in the attic. Could he have the guest room as his bedroom? Sure. But where's the fun in that? The attic is bigger and way more private.

You push open the door at the top of the stairs and you're hit with a gust of cold air. Typical. The balcony doors on the far side of the room don't latch properly because the frame broke years ago. He's gotten used to the freezing cold room in the winter, it's nothing new. He has a heater, a desk top thing he got online but it doesn't do much.

"You're here!" Peter cheers and gets up from his desk, discarding his console controller on the seat. "I've been wondering when you'd show up."

"Sorry, I was late because Haley was getting ready." You sigh softly. "She really wants to hit it off with Raul."

Peter chuckles. "Is she pretty?"

"Yeah of course. It's Haley. You remember? Blonde, short, great clothes."

"Oh! Yeah. She's going to school for fashion design right? Yeah she's cute, way nicer than his last girlfriend. Raul will probably like her. Did you introduce them?"

"No, I ditched her and came up here. She knows how to flirt."

Peter laughs. "You're so mean."

You shrug. "I don't like parties and I'm not playing matchmaker."

"I know." He puts his arm around your shoulders and walks you to the massive beanbag chair at the end of his bed. "I have my own bottle of whiskey. We can have our own party. Its even the apple kind."

You sink down into the soft beanbag and he drops next to you, reaching for said bottle on the bookshelf beside it. You haven't drank together since the feelings started, and you know it's a bad idea to start.

"You want to play never have I ever?"

"Uh, sure. But I know basically everything about you?"

"Not everything."

"Yeah okay." You laugh and he puts his legs over yours. "Alright, never have I ever accidentally stolen something."

Peter takes a drink from the bottle and grimaces. "That's not fair. You know it haunts me."

You smirk. "Well, I told you I know everything."

"Alright fine. Never have I ever had a first kiss." He drinks and passes the bottle to you.

You don't take a drink and pick at the hem of your shirt. This has taken a sharp turn very quickly.

"Wait, what, for real?"

You shake your head. "I've never been kissed."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Peter takes the bottle from between you and sets it aside on the floor. "How? Why?"

"It just hasn't happened."

"But you've had a boyfriend?"

You shake your head. "Never had that either. I just don't like getting close to people. I thought you knew this?"

"So you don't know how to kiss?"

"I know how! I just haven't done it yet. It's not that weird okay?"

Peter leans forward to look at you. "Do you wanna know what it's like?"

"Yeah, one day I guess."

"I mean, I could be your first kiss. I'm someone you trust and I'm not going to judge you if it's bad."

Your heart stops, a cold sick feeling grips your stomach. Does he know about your feelings? No, he's just trying to be nice. He wants you to be comfortable. He doesn't know. He can't. You're going to have to play this off. "I don't know. We're friends, what if it's weird?"

Peter repositions himself so he is sitting in front of you. "Never have I ever wanted to kiss my best friend." He takes a drink and hands you the bottle.

You roll your eyes, stomach aching. "That's not fair."

"Drink."

"I don't-"

"I know okay? Shawn told me. He said he overheard you talking about me with someone. I know you have a crush on me."

"What?! Shawn doesn't know anything!" You shove the bottle at Peter and get up. "I can't- you just believe him?!"

"Why are you getting so defensive?"

"Because! It's not- I don't- I'm scared okay?!" You ball your fists in your hoodie pocket and stare down at the floor.

Peter shifts and stands up, you see his sock covered feet in front of yours. "Can I talk now?"

"Yeah, sorry." You mumble.

He puts his hands out in front of him, palms up for you to grab them. "Hold my hands."

You do as he says and he closes his fingers around yours.

"It's okay that you have a crush on me. We've been close for years now. I know you have a hard time opening up to people and that's why you don't date. It's normal that you'd develop feelings for me since I'm someone you trust and you're comfortable with."

"But you don't like me like that."

"Actually," he chuckles and squeezes your hands. "I do. I'm sorry I brought it up like this, that wasn't fair."

"It's okay."

"Look at me, please?"

You look up and he leans in and kisses you quickly. Just a small press of lips before you can fully register that it happened. Your body reacts nonetheless. Heart pounding, a cold sweat on your neck. It feels like a dream but more like a nightmare.

"You okay?"

"I think I'm going to puke."

"Oh." Peter steps back and grabs his trash can, holding it up for you. "That's not reassuring."

"No. It's not you. It's me. I'm freaking out."

Peter sets the can down and wraps his arms around you as you start to shake. "It's fine, everything is fine. Take a deep breath."

"Peter no!" You feel it happening and then it comes up onto Peter's chest, not quite throw up but still gross like bile. "No no no."

Peter steps back and sighs shakily. "This isn't the worst thing." He pulls his hoodie off and tosses it aside into the hamper. "It's fine, don't worry. It's fine."

You sit down on the bed and cover your face. "It's not fine. I just upchucked on you!"

"You did and it's fine." Peter hands you a water bottle from somewhere and sets the can by your feet. "I'm washable and so are the clothes."

"I'm so sorry."

"Why? Because your body reacted? I've done worse." He sits down on the floor across from you and stretches his legs out. "Maybe if we keep talking it'll get easier."

"Or I'll puke more."

He bumps his foot against yours and strokes it over your ankle comfortingly. "Are you scared we can't be friends? Or are you upset about something else?"

"I guess I've never been in this situation and I'm scared we won't work out if we go for more than friends. I don't want to ruin my friendship with you. You're my best friend, I can't lose you."

"That's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just because we have feelings doesn't mean we have to act on them."

"I know but...we... everything is messed up now. I'd rather go back to suffering in silence." You take a big drink and rinse your mouth out.

Peter pushes up off the floor and kicks the trash can aside. He crawls on the bed behind you and pulls you back against him. "Let's just start slow. We'll test the boundaries and figure out if we really want each other."

You tuck your feet against his and he pulls the blanket from behind him over the both of you. "Cuddling?"

"Mmmhmm. The most basic form of affection."

"I don't know about that." You grab his hand on your chest and put your fingers through his. "I feel like there are more basic things."

"Oh shh." Peter chuckles and presses his nose against your hair. "Can I confess something now?"

"Yeah."

"I've wanted to be more than friends for over a year now. So, you're not alone in feeling conflicted about everything."

You turn in his hold and face him. His arm falls on the bed between you. "Really?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He laughs.

You reach up and touch his nose. It's so cute when he laughs and it crinkles up. "I was scared."

"So was I."

"Do you think we should be together?"

"Yeah. I think knowing everything about each other and yet we still have these feelings means something. I think it's special. You can't hurry love and we definitely haven't done that."

You nod. "Can I kiss you? I want to try."

Peter nods.

You take in a deep shaky breath and scoot closer. "Close your eyes."

He does as you say.

You press your lips against his and he doesn't react. It's just lips on lips.

"Can I kiss you back?" Peter mutters.

"Uh-huh."

Peter slides his hand into your hair and cups the back of your head. Suddenly it's not just an awkward lips on lips situation, it's a real kiss coming from your real best friend. He licks against your lip and you freeze. "It's okay," he says into your mouth. "We can stop, just say when."

"Stop."

Peter pulls back and looks at you, a smile spreading across his face. "How was your first kiss?"

You lick your lip and feel a flush rising up your neck. "Good. You're...you're pretty good."

"Are you sure? Maybe I'm really really horrible but you have nothing to compare to." He teases and you shove him.

"Peter! That's not funny!"

He cackles and gathers you into his arms. "Okay okay. I promise I won't tease you about it. I'm glad it wasn't bad."

You tuck your face into his shoulder and wrap your arms around his back. He smells good, like laundry and body wash. "I'm not so scared now."

"Good." He rubs his hand up your back and plays with your hair. "I'm not going to let you feel unsafe. I promise, I'll be everything you need."

"Pinky promise?"

Peter laughs softly and hooks his pinky with yours. "Pinky promise."

End

----------------

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[pinkykitten]

everything stays

chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ] 

note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!

Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time. 

The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath. 

But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost. 

This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.

The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan. 

She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up. 

As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do. 

Kill.

A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake. 

Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall. 

Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done. 

The titans were called. 

Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”

Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees. 

Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before. 

She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves. 

She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall. 

“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud. 

“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke. 

Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches. 

In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?

They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up. 

“Don’t.”

Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”

Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes. 

“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”

He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”

They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers. 

Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”

“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie. 

Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”

“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life. 

“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”

Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”

After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom. 

She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer. 

With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain. 

Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen. 

It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps. 

“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.

“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls. 

“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do. 

All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training. 

note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️

Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag

[rason-rodd]

The Night(wing) Before Christmas

Summary: Damian tries to convince Dick to come to dinner for Christmas. But duty calls and a weird surprise awaits Dick. Do you believe in Santa Claus?

Warning: No pairing. Just a family Christmas-themed OS.

Author’s note: This would certainly be the last Bat-Christmas one shot. I decided not to make it a Dick x Reader (though it was initially the plan) because I wanted to give Dick and Damian the chance to reconnect. Hope you will like it. 

Blüdhaven was never quiet. Blüdhaven was always restless. Lively. Noisy. Blüdhaven was like him. In shades of jet-black and neon-blue. Shining. Glowing. Like a beacon by the ocean.     But tonight, Blüdhaven was not blue. Blüdhaven was red. Blüdhaven was green. Blüdhaven was yellow. Blüdhaven was merry. Blüdhaven was childish. Blüdhaven was a little boy waiting for his gift in a small circus trailer, counting days and eating chocolate. Blüdhaven was getting ready for Christmas.       But Dick Grayson was not.   “You know Father still insists that you come celebrate Christmas with us at the manor this year.” Slumped on the chimney, feet hanging and swinging in the air, Damian Wayne was playing with a birdarang like a bored child waiting for action, demonstrating nonchalance and casualness that could have almost seemed natural and sincere if it hadn’t been for his little green eyes peeping at his brother’s every reactions. “I still have to think about it, Damian.”     Damian clicked his tongue and crossed his arms over his chest to sulk in silence. “Todd said he was coming.” Dick snickered at the boy’s remark – which sounded more like a reproach - finding certain amusement in seeing Damian’s childish disappointment. “So who are you going to spend Christmas with? The poor waitress you used to date?” Those last few words were enough to erase the smile on Dick’s face. “Bea and I are over, Damian. I told you, didn’t I?” Damian shrugged and jumped from his perch to come and kneel by his brother by the edge of the rooftop they were on. “She wasn’t good enough for you, anyway.” And that was a lame attempt at comforting by Damian Wayne, ladies and gents.             “Well, if I listen to you, Damian, no one is ever good enough for me. You said the same thing about Shawn when we broke up.”         “Shawn? Oh right the mediocre artist/ villain you thought you had got pregnant. Almost forgot about her. What a lousy list of conquests you have under your belt, Grayson.” Dick’s jaw clenched to prevent any hurtful commentary to come out of his mouth. There was no point in debating with Damian in that situation. Dick knew well than to take his words seriously. After all, they were just part of a clumsy technique to attract attention, not ill intentioned at all and not to be taken seriously.

Police sirens suddenly screamed in the avenue under their feet, flickering blue and red. A code of alert. A perfect way to escape Damian. “Got to go.” And without any other word, Dick leaped over the edge of the building, grapple gun in hand, ignoring his little brother yelling at him “See you next Thursday at 6.” and his classic “Grayson, you fool.” when he didn’t get an answer.

Dick wasn’t a huge fan of car chases. Though appearing as simple and routine at first sight, he found them to be the most dangerous and scariest of a superhero’s everyday (or night) missions. They needed an extreme vigilance that was hard to fully have: requiring his attention to be sharp and focused on both the criminals and the police as well as the road and especially any citizen who were unfortunate enough to be on the way. But full vigilance didn’t mean no light-hearted commentary.     “Where are you guys going with an organ recovery vehicle? The hospital is the other way. Might wanna update the GPS and reconsider the music. Last Christmas I stole you your heart would be more fitting for organs traffickers”     “Nightwing!” The driver exclaimed as his partner in crime pulled his gun from his holster to shoot him. “Yeah that’s me.  And you might wanna give me that.” Dick said as he quickly seized the gun to throw it through the car window. “Now pull over before Santa hears about what bad boys you two have been this year.”   “Screw you, punk!”   “As you wish.” Dick rolled his eyes, acting dramatically annoyed, and grabbed the wheel, taking the two men by surprise. “What are you doing?” They asked, screaming at him. “Checking the airbags.” He declared as he voluntarily led the speeding car towards a barricaded construction site knowing perfectly that there were no workers in there tonight. ”Hang on.”

The car hit the metal fence, bending it as if it was a mere piece of paper. Then it left the ground and flew right towards a hole of fresh concrete. When it landed, all the bodywork crashed like a can of tomato soup and the windows broke, leaving the two criminals screaming in fear. But their yells were brief, chocked by the airbags that suddenly inflated due to the powerful noisy impact.             “Airbags, check. MOT test, over. You may get down of the vehicle gentlemen.” Nightwing said as he opened the door. But the two men were so stunned and terrified they couldn’t move. “Or you can wait here. That’s fine as well.”

The police car who had been chasing the two men suddenly parked on the site and a couple of officers ran to the accident car, guns in hands. Among them Detective Elise Svobada, Nightwing’s own Jim Gordon except that Jim Gordon had never kissed Batman. A memory that still made Dick want to puke. “Good job, tights.”             “A compliment? Christmas makes you soft, Svoboda.” Dick smirked as he let the woman pushed the driver out of the car. “Don’t get used to it.”   “Detective, the heart must be delivered in less than 15 minutes. We won’t be there on time. Not with this traffic.” Svoboda’s partner declared, panicking and trembling like a Chihuahua.           “Damn it!” Svoboda kicked the tire of the car, angry and wondering what to do now. “Nightwing, do you think you can…” But there was no need to finish the sentence as the vigilante was already far away, swinging from building to building, the box containing the precious organ in his hand. “Thanks, kid… Nelson, call the hospital. Tell them there’s a special delivery.”

There’s nothing more gratifying than knowing you saved a life, except maybe knowing that you saved a life on Christmas. Makes you feel like some heroic caped Santa Claus in a way.           But Dick never chose to become a vigilante for gratification or fame. He never wished for a thank you or some sort of admiration. Dick chose to become a vigilante to help people, to see the smiles on their face, that glimmer of hope shining in their eyes when they thought all hope was gone. Dick chose to become a vigilante to make the world a better place.            

“That girl owes you her life.” The white-bearded doctor said as he shook Dick’s hand with a gratitude that was making the happy tears in his eyes sparkle like stars. “She doesn’t owe me anything.” And no one could doubt his sincerity. “Still what you did was very noble, boy. Thanks to you this young lady will be able to spend Christmas with her loved ones. And I hope you will as well. After all there’s nothing more important than family.”           “We’ll see about that. Merry Christmas, Doctor.” He said as he headed towards the exit. “Merry Christmas, Richard.”

Dick froze and quickly turned around, wondering if he had heard right or if it was his fatigue playing tricks on him. But the old doctor was already gone and nowhere to be seen. Did he know the Batman’s disappearance act, too? “You really need to sleep, Nightwing.” “Indeed you look awful.” The nonchalant voice of Damian Wayne suddenly made Nightwing jump. That little demon could be so stealthy sometimes. “Would not want you to look like a walking dead at dinner. We already have Todd for that.”           “How did you find me?”       “Heard the police radio. No need to be a genius to do so.” He clicked his tongue as he crossed his tiny arms over his small chest. “So you saved the mayor’s daughter. Congratulations. What now?”           “The mayor’s daughter?”   “Yes. The two criminals wanted to use her as a way to corrupt the mayor.” Dick frowned. “What? Did you really think there was some sort of organs trafficking in Blüdhaven? Hello! It’s Blüdhaven not Gotham! You know the place where you’re expected on Thursday.” Dick laughed and tousled his little brother’s hair to annoy him. “Alright, little guy. I’ll be there.”   “Thank you.” Damian sighed deeply.         “Don’t thank me. Thank Santa.” Dick corrected him, still thinking about that weird old doctor. “Don’t try to choke with some cheesy Christmas spirit.” Damian declared as he pointed his fingers at Dick who were chuckling. “Alright.” He complied, gently grabbing Damian by the arm. “Wanna go drink some hot cocoa at my place?”           “Are you sweet-talking me?” Damian glared at his brother, not really knowing how to take the offer. “Maybe.”             “Would there be marshmallows in the cup?” Dick grinned and hugged his brother. “Of course.”    

[platypanthewriter]

See You On the Other Side

Febuwhump: Day 5, Take Me Instead (got a lil derailed though) WIP

Steve was driving at night, listening to the radio.  The Eurythmics were blasting out his windows, the breeze whipping his hair and drying the sweat of Indiana in August, and there was nothing ahead of him in the road, when suddenly Billy Goddamn Hargrove stepped out right in front of his car.  The headlights lit up his bloodied wifebeater and the cigarette in his hand as the bumper of Steve’s car passed through him, and Steve yelled.  

The brakes screeched as Steve’s car came to an angled stop, and he panted, his arms up as he stared around, his heart thudding in his chest.  He scrambled out to look back, and his tail lights showed a dark shape standing, idly, where he’d just driven his car.  Steve jogged back.  

It was definitely Billy, sweaty, blueish, and bloodied as Steve had last seen him.  He was smirking past Steve’s head.  “...that you, pretty boy?” he asked, with a rasp in his voice Steve didn’t remember, and black fluid dried down his chin and neck.

“Don’t cream your pants,” Steve said automatically, jerking his head to squint at his car, then back to where Billy was standing, smack between the rubber marks where he’d tried to stop.  

“...move along,” Billy said, turning away, and Steve dodged around him, staring into his face, as Billy laughed, hunching his shoulders.  “...you want something from me, King Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, reaching out, then yanking his hand back.  “What the hell is going on?!”

“You wanna know more about me, your majesty?” Billy asked, stalking forward so their faces passed through each other, and Steve stumbled backwards so fast he nearly fell on his ass.  He caught himself in a crouch with one hand behind him, and pushed himself back up as Billy laughed his ass off.  

“Screw you,” Steve muttered, dusting himself off, but he could hardly just leave Max’s dead brother wandering the highway.  “Why’re you...streetwalking?”

“...I am not doing that,” Billy snorted.  “Sounds kinda unsatisfying, who’s gonna pay a ghost for a fuck?”

“What?” Steve asked, squinting, and Billy shrugged, raising his eyebrows.  Steve sighed.  “Jesus, I forgot what a dickhead you are.”

“Drive on, then, Harrington,” Billy waved him off, and Steve had to trot after him again as he wandered down the road.  

“Does Max know you’re out here?” he asked, and Billy snorted.

“The fuck would she care.”

“She cares,” Steve told him, stubbornly.  “No idea why, really—why’re you here, anyway?  You didn’t get run over—”

“Actually, I just did,” Billy pointed out.  

“You died at Starcourt,” Steve finished, and Billy tucked his hands in his pockets again, and started walking away.  “Why aren’t you—”

“What, in hell?” Billy snarled back.  “I don’t know where the fuck I am—”

“Johnson’s Texaco’s like three minutes thattaway,” Steve pointed, and Billy cocked his head, frowning over his shoulder, then pointed hesitantly the other way.  “...so the mall is…” 

“Yep,” Steve told him, and Billy stopped, sighing.  Steve opened his mouth to talk, then closed it, and blew air into his cheeks, feeling like a frustrated chipmunk.  “...I dunno if I can give you a ride,” he said after a while, and Billy snorted.

“Pretty obvious you can’t,” he said, sitting down right there in the road.  “The fuck d’you even want.”

“...come on, get out of the road, you’re gonna cause a wreck,” Steve told him, his hands passing through Billy’s arms, and Billy laughed.  

“Yeah, even dead I’m causing problems for everyone,” he said, lying back, so he was sprawled across both sides of the road, his arms and legs outstretched.  “Fuck off.”

Steve sighed, stalked back to his car, and swung it around, pulling over to the shoulder.   He looked for headlights before he stepped into the road, and walked over to kick through Billy’s starfished leg.  “The hell are you doing, man,” he sighed, and Billy raised one arm to flip him off.  Steve crouched, considering.  He’d heard a fair amount about Max and Billy from Dustin—Billy’s mom wasn’t in the picture, he gathered.  “You want me to tell your dad you’re here?”

Billy sat up, glaring at him.  “No, I fucking don’t, fuck off, leave me the fuck alone—”

“Oh,” Steve said, thinking.  

“Don’t you dare,” Billy hissed.  “Only good thing about being dead, him having nothing to say about it.”

“...oh,” said Steve, grimacing.  

“...why are you still here,” Billy sighed.

“Uh,” Steve said, thinking.  “Uh, El is fine,” he said slowly, and Billy laughed.

“You think I give a shit?!”

“...I mean, you died saving her,” Steve told him, “—so yeah, kinda.”

“Got her in trouble in the first place,” Billy said, so low Steve barely heard it.  “If I hadn’t gone fucking—crazy—”  Steve opened his mouth to answer, and heard a car coming.  He stood, frowning, and Billy scrambled to his feet and waved his hands through Steve’s torso.  “Get the fuck out of the road, Harrington—”

Steve allowed himself to be waved to the side of the road well before the truck even came around the curve and its headlights lit them up.  “...how come you’re out here?” he asked again.  

“...you should go,” Billy said, following him to his car.  “There’s shit out here worse than me.”  

He walked off into the woods after that, making no noise in the underbrush, and Steve couldn’t see him outside the area lit by the streetlights.  

 There hadn’t been much reason to go to Starcourt, before that, but he swung by after he spent his whole shift the next day wondering whether he should tell Robin he’d met the ghost of Billy Hargrove, or be honest, and admit he was going insane.  

Billy was lying along a car-sized chunk of fallen cement, and Steve wandered closer, watching him.  He looked...like a dead guy, Steve thought, he wasn’t glowing, or transparent—he was just there, his tank top stained with dried blood and black ooze, staring up at the sky.  “...Hargrove,” Steve called, and Billy sat up and glared at him.  

“You checkin’ me out?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, grinning, and then trotting over.  He walked right up to Steve again, and Steve dodged back as Billy’s face brushed through his.

“You made it back,” Steve observed, wiping his face off with a reflexive reflex, and then feeling dumb, because it wasn’t like it actually had Billy’s brain on it.  

Billy shrugged, smirking.  “The hell else am I supposed to go,” he laughed.  “They didn’t dig me out.”  

“Shit,” Steve agreed, raising his eyebrows, and Billy snorted, watching him.  “...what’d you mean, there’s shit worse than you?”

“Fuck you very much,” Billy laughed, tensing, but he didn’t answer.  His eyes raked over the parking lot.  

“I didn’t tell anyone you were, uh.  About you,” Steve told him, and Billy barked a laugh.  

“Because that always goes well,” he said, baring his teeth in a grin.  “How come I didn’t just—tell you I’d lost my shit, Harrington?  You’d’a put me down.  Beat my fucking head in.”

“...what?” Steve asked, blinking at him.

“Before I turned into—fucking Zodiac Killer,” Billy said flatly, his hands shaking.  “What’d my body count even end up being?”

“Wait, no,” Steve held his hands up.  “You—you were like, um, y’know, that movie with the little girl who pukes pea soup on a priest?”

“...you’re saying demons are real,” Billy scoffed, but watched him warily.  “...I was wondering if you were real, and then you said dumb shit about the Exorcist, and thought I’d wanna see my dad—”

“They’re...sort of real,” Steve said, biting his lip.  “I mean, you weren’t...you.  There was—there’s a—” he fumbled around, trying to explain, and Billy listened, waiting.  “...it drove you like a car,” Steve said finally.  “The uh, the car doesn’t—you couldn’t pick where to go.  Right?”

“...sure what it felt like,” Billy said, clenching his fists.  “I couldn’t—I could—sometimes, I could—I could go to work, or—but then I’d—” he took a deep breath, and then growled into his hands.  “...I tried to call the cops,” he whispered, and Steve ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, trying to think of something to say.

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said first, and Billy snorted a laugh.  “It wasn’t,” Steve told him, and when Billy opened his mouth to argue again, Steve waved his hands wildly.  “No, no, listen.  Look.  Okay.  There’s a lab—no,” he bit his lip, thinking, and tried again.  “The government started giving people these drugs, like, my mom’s age, when they were like—in college, like the seventies,” he began, and Billy listened.  After a while he sat down, glowering intently between questions, and Steve sat down crosslegged on the ground facing him.  

Billy didn’t have a ton of questions, but most of the ones he did have were about Will, and how Joyce Byers had saved him, and he stared down at his hands, licking his teeth in a fidgety way, his eyebrows raised like his brain needed the space.  

As Steve kept talking, Billy laid down, rubbing his face, but he listened to the end, staring at the sky as Steve told him about Hopper dying, and El and Will moving away.  

When the whole story was done, Steve sat and thought, watching Billy.  “...so it wasn’t your fault,” he said again, and Billy laughed hoarsely, curling onto his side, towards Steve.  

“...yeah, sure,” he said, his eyes distant.

The sun was setting, the sunset bright through the fence around Starcourt Mall, and Steve wondered, in passing, whether there was anything worth stealing in there—the quarter rodeo ride, or the candy machines.  

Billy sighed, closing his eyes.  There were dark circles under them, and Steve wondered, grimacing, whether the Mindflayer had let him sleep before he died.  He was grimier than Steve remembered, too, and it occured to him to be glad Billy’s ghost hadn’t kept whatever broken bones he’d gotten in the wreckage.  

He looked exhausted, and filthy, his curls greasy and tangled, but he walked fine, and there weren’t—Steve thought, with a shudder—bones jutting from a crushed ribcage, or a squashed eyeball dangling from a misshapen skull.  He just looked...asleep, Steve realized, as Billy curled up a little tighter, frowning, and making a little noise under his breath.  

Steve bit his lips together, watching Billy Hargrove bury his face in his arms, and then got his homework, and the flashlight from his car.  Every time Billy would start to squirm, and mumble, Steve would hiss “Psst!  Billy!” and he’d jerk, and roll into a different position, his shoulders relaxing, and Steve bit his lips together, feeling helpless.  

He was through his math problems, his essay on the Depression, and halfway through The Great Gatsby, when Billy sat up, glaring at him.  “...what the fuck,” he breathed.  “What—” he glanced around, his eyes narrowed against the darkness.  “What the fuck, why—why are you—what are you doing?!”

“Homework,” Steve said stubbornly, rubbing the back of his neck, and sitting his book down to stretch.

“Why are you doing it here,” Billy asked, sounding pissed.  “Fuck off home, Harrington—”

Steve sighed, and did, stopping as Billy ran up alongside him.  “...what.”

“Just being a ghost,” Billy whispered, leaning in to brush their faces a little through each other again, and Steve staggered back, yelling.  

“Stop putting your brain on my brain,” he growled, glaring, as Billy cracked up, leaning in Steve’s car door like a prick.  

“You sure?” Billy licked his lips, and Steve rolled his eyes, and took off the parking brake to head home.

 Steve took his bag of McD’s and parked in the lot of the charred ruin of Starcourt Mall.  He ripped the salt packet open, sprinkled his steaming-hot fries, and watched the floaty stuff start to rain down around his car as Billy approached, his weird Upside-Down atmosphere around him.  Steve heard the seat settle deeper next to him, and took a bite of his burger.

“Jesus, that looks good,” Billy said, and Steve glanced over, still chewing.

“You can see it, but you can’t, like...touch it?” he asked, and Billy demonstrated, waving a hand through Steve’s fries.  He was like Barb in Steve’s pool.   Steve watched him, until Billy licked his lips.  

“Take a picture, it lasts longer.  You can jack off to it at night.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and settled back in his seat, sighing.  “...you think maybe you can show me where you are?”

“Here,” Billy snorted, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know, dumbass,” Steve sighed again.  “I mean, y’know...you.”  He took another bite of his burger, after stuffing a few fries in his mouth.

“Why, you gonna throw some holy water around,” Billy shot back.  “Fucking...exorcise me.”

Steve chewed slowly and swallowed, as Billy glared moodily at his dashboard.  “Nah,” he said, finally, and Billy glared over warily.  “I thought maybe...if you’re like...haunting your, uh,” he waved a hand at Billy, grimacing, and Billy bristled.

“What,” he hissed.

“Thought I could like…” Steve frowned at the french fries, grabbing a handful, “—take you with me.  Maybe.”

“...what,” Billy growled, his eyes narrowed.  “What the hell are you—”

“Fine, jesus,” Steve said, rolling his eyes, and taking his car out of park.  “Have fun haunting a burned-out mall.”

“Wait! Wait,” Billy shouted, scrambling up onto the seat.  “Wait, Harrington, what the fuck—you gonna—you gonna, like, drive my skull around?”

“...I guess,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose, and putting his car back in park.  “Maybe.  I mean, we could—we can try and figure out where you are, maybe—maybe I don’t need the whole thing.”

“Put my middle finger on your keychain,” Billy breathed.  “That’d be metal.”

Steve snickered, watching his grin.  “Do you know where you are?” he asked, and Billy shivered, swallowing.  He shook his head.

“I...I don’t know,” he breathed, staring at the mall through the window.  “I don’t, uh,” he took a shuddery breath, and Steve wondered whether it helped.  “I don’t remember too clear,” Billy whispered.

“Okay,” Steve nodded, grimacing.  “Okay, uh, I’ll—I’ll bring a shovel, okay.  I’ll—I’ll find you.”

Billy turned and glared at him, his eyes reddening, a little.  “...why?”

“Dude,” Steve glared over, smacking his fists, holding the burger, into the steering wheel.  “The hell d’you mean why.”

“...I coulda killed you,” Billy said, and Steve grimaced, clearing his throat.  

“Yeah, well, then you got yourself killed saving El, okay, we’re even.  They’re gonna tear that shit down,” Steve pointed with a french fry, his eyes narrowed at Billy as he chewed, and Billy’s mouth quirked.  “You’re gonna end up in the dump, or something,” Steve said, throwing a french fry through him, and Billy snorted a laugh.  Steve threw another one.  “You wanna haunt the dump, asshole?!”

“Sounds like a wild night,” Billy said, holding his hands up as Steve threatened to throw another fry.  “...not sure you’re gonna find much, though.”

“Oh, I will,” Steve told him.

 That Friday night, Steve went back and tossed a shovel over the fence before climbing up it himself.  He wandered through the ruined mall kicking wreckage until he heard Billy’s voice.  

“The hell are you gonna do, dig me up and like...throw me in a trash bag,” he asked.  “I’m gonna smell like shit.”

“Oh, crap, yeah,” Steve said, stopping.  “You’ve been dead what, a couple months, in the summer.”  He sighed, and kept kicking rubble around.  

Billy yelled “Harrington, move your ass,” and Steve scrambled to the side as the charred, twisted metal he’d kicked collapsed, and he ran, stumbling into where the roof had already fallen.  He dropped to a crouch, panting, as Billy’s bluish hands waved through him.  

“Shit, Harrington,” he whispered.

“...I can’t figure out where the dome was, even,” Steve groaned, stretching.  “Come on, work at it a little.”

“You’re still trying?!” Billy panted, staring at him in the dim evening light, as Steve coughed cement dust, perched unsteadily on rubble.

Steve sighed, steadying himself on a rusty hunk of exposed rebar.  “Yeah, shithead, I’m still trying.”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered, frowning around.  “Look, go—go back.  I’ll try to find it, okay, it’s—it’s a fucking deathtrap here, in the dark.”

“I can’t dig during the day,” Steve reminded him, rolling his eyes.  

“You can get the fuck out of here,” Billy hissed.  “Go home and fuck that bitch Wheeler, I’ll find it, jesus—”

“Euuugh,” Steve groaned, but he let Billy lead him out, squinting after the slightly darker shape outlined by the traffic lights.  He tripped once, and Billy was half through him, waving his hands at Steve’s, before they both remembered the whole reason they were there, and Billy turned away, taking a deep breath.  “...it’s okay, man,” Steve said, and then felt like an idiot, because it really wasn’t.

“...are you bleeding from anywhere?” Billy asked hoarsely, and Steve was the one who reached out that time, and then muttered angrily to himself.

 Steve went home and called the Byers’, said hello absently to Jonathan, and asked for Joyce.  “Um,” he said, taking a deep breath.  “Uh, I know this—sucks—but I need to ask some questions.  About—about Will.  About how you—knew.”

Part Two

[oldfashionedmoth]

Fred and George do QVC

Find me on AO3

It was a bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon, and Harry Potter was stuck inside folding laundry. He stared longingly at the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. Lately, he had been feeling listless and filled with ennui. His life at the Dursley’s was considerably less exciting than his life at school. Albeit, he didn’t have a crazed, nose-less, master wizard, trying to murder him here; but even that might have been an improvement, to the boredom he had felt all summer. He glanced across the room at his Aunt Petunia, who lounged on the sofa, half asleep. He wondered if she’d notice if he escaped outside, for a breath of fresh air. Uncle Vernon had just left, with Dudley and his friends, to see a professional football match. This was one of the numerous birthday surprises his aunt and uncle had lavished their son with. Harry would have liked to had gone too, but he was told “the laundry wasn’t going to fold itself.”

“If I were allowed to use magic outside of school, the laundry certainly *would* fold itself.” Harry thought bitterly.

The TV chattered away in the background.

“…and just so we’re clear, these are dishwasher safe?”  

“Yes, that’s right, Antonella. The Scrub Daddy is absolutely dishwasher safe.”

“And remember, you’re getting 12 of these! Order code 63528, when you call in.”

“Yes, and just quickly…because I know we are running out of time… I wanted to show you that the design for these is not just a smiley face. These are fully functional. Put your two fingers in the eye holes like so, and it stays on your fingers. That’s going to be fantastic for getting inside of mugs, cups, you name it.”

“Wow! that’s ingenious!”

The presenter turned and addressed the camera directly, holding the item for sale.

“Look! Here is what you’re getting, guys. And this packaging! Ah!  This custom packaging is exclusive to QVC, guys. And, all this could be yours, for 4 easy payments of $7.49. Amazing!”

The camera zoomed in, on the presenter’s face.

“Coming up, we have a couple of young entrepreneurs, showing us their latest confections. I’m sure we all know someone with a sweet tooth. Just wait till you see what these boys have in store for us today. But first, make sure you get your orders in for the Scrub Daddy. These things are selling like hot cakes!”

The shot cut to a pre-recorded infomercial, for Scrub Daddy sponges.  

“Hmmph!” Aunt Petunia snorted “I should order some of those for you, so you’ll stop ruining my pots!”  

Harry muttered under his breath “Well, if you fixed the dishwasher, instead of using me as your personal slave, I wouldn’t have to scrub the pots.”

“What was that?!” snapped Aunt Petunia, “You ungrateful little brat! After all your uncle and I have done for you; taking you in, like we did, after your parents…well…You should be ecstatic that I even offered to buy you anything!”

In a huff, she snatched the remote control off the coffee table and turned up the volume.

Harry put the folded laundry in the basket and stood to bring them upstairs.

“Up next, we have twins Fred and George Weasley, of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, here with us today. Welcome boys!”

Harry froze, gobsmacked. Much to his disbelief, there was his best friend’s older brothers, peddling their wares on QVC. One was wearing an evening tailcoat, which was neon orange with lime green polka dots. His trousers were also neon orange, but with a lime green tuxedo stripe running down each leg. The other twin was wearing the same tailcoat and tuxedo trousers, but in inverse colors to his brother. In contrast to the loudness of their jackets, both boys were wearing black cravats around their necks, giving them a ‘Victorian Regency on acid’ kind of look.

“Thanks for having us, Antonella. We’re happy to be here!” said one of the twins

“Remind us to buy a pack of those Scrub Daddies, before we leave.” said the other, “Our Dad would get such a kick out of them. Sponges with smiley faces. What a concept! Haha!”

His brother leaned into him, and theatrically whispered “We don’t need them ourselves. We can just use Malfoy’s head.” He held up two fingers in a sideways peace sign, and pretended to poke his brother in both eyes. “His hair is great at soaking up grease.”

The twins snickered together, as the presenter, unperturbed, carried on with the sales pitch.

“Fred and George have brought with them some of their Skiving Snackbox candies. Now, judging by the names of some of these, I think these would be perfect as a novelty get-well present, for someone in your life who’s been feeling a little under the weather. There’s something for every ailment. We’ve got ‘fever fudge’, ‘fainting fancies’, ‘nosebleed nougat’ and last but not least, ‘puking pastilles.’ Hehe! Now, what made you boys come up with this concept, for these sweets?”

“Well,” said Fred, “they’re not exactly for someone who’s already sick."

"That could result in some disastrous side effects.” quipped George

Fred turned to the camera and added “Always read the labels, kids!”

George continued, “They make you temporarily ill, if for example, you wanted the day off work. You pop in a fainting fancy. Bob’s your uncle-Fanny’s your Aunt, suddenly your GP has prescribed you a day of bed rest.”

“Oh, but totally 100% all muggle, I mean natural. 100% all natural.” Fred interjected

“Yes, definitely nothing magical about these candies at all.” George agreed, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, I get it!” exclaimed the host, “That’s just like the Natural Herbal Detox Tea, we had on the show last month. This may be TMI, but I swear I was on the toilet for a week, after that segment! Hehehe!”  

Fred laughed and said, “Now would be a good time for me to tell one of my poop jokes.”

George replied “Nah, they always stink!”

“Hey-oh!” they cried, while high-fiving each other.

“You know what you needed?” Fred asked the host, “The Skiving Snackbox’s companion product, ‘You-No-Poo’. Guaranteed to cause crippling constipation in less than 3 minutes!”

“The constipation sensation, that’s gripping the nation!” exclaimed George

“Well, being conscious of time, lets move right along.” Antonella said, “Our viewers at home are probably wondering ‘but how do they taste?’ Let’s find out, shall we?”

She popped a candy into her mouth, and immediately started retching.

“NOOO!” the twins shouted in unison.

“You’re not supposed to eat the whole thing at once!” lamented Fred

“You’re only supposed eat half!” followed George

“The antidote is in the second half.” continued Fred

The poor unsuspecting host began urging in a rhythmic way, “Blech...Blech...Blech...Blech...”  

“Oh no!” wailed George “I think she’s stuck in vom-limbo.”

“Both sides of the sweet must be working against each other!” added Fred

“It’s simultaneously trying to make her be sick, and also keeping any sick from coming up.” George concurred.

Panic-stricken, Fred started rifling through his rugsack. He began removing items and throwing them behind him. A roll of parchment; a quill; various bottles and vials; a bowler hat; a cup of tea, complete with saucer; a set of fireworks, which exploded upon impact with the floor; a broom; a Yorkshire pudding; a literal kitchen sink...  

Between urges, Antonella asked “How...blech...did...blech...you...blech...fit...blech...all...blech...that...blech...in...blech...there?”

“Never mind that now! Here, eat this!” bellowed Fred, shoving the found antidote in the host’s mouth.

Finally, the retching stopped, but with it came a lengthy spew of vomit across the set, with such ferocity it rivaled Linda Blair in the exorcist. The show quickly switched to camera angle “B” to avoid broadcasting Antonella’s lost lunch to the viewers.

“I think it’s best we...uhh...take a little break,” the presenter said shakily, wiping tears and vomit from her face. “ugh... Up next we have Ken Oschipok with his beautifully iridescent Ammolite and White Zircon silver rings...ahh...oh...just a second, my producer is telling me something...”

She touched her finger to her ear, turned away from the camera and hissed into her mic “What do you mean you can’t find the rings? A Platypus? Are…are you sure it was a platypus? How did a platypus get in here, and why would it steal our merchandise?”

Fred and George exchanged worried glances.

The presenter looked back to camera, with a wide grin plastered on her face, “Sorry guys, we are just having a little bit of...umm...technical difficulties. We’ll be right back wi...OH!”

Suddenly a red envelope swooped down out of nowhere, flicked Antonella across the nose and stopped abruptly in front of the twins. A loud but shrill voice echoed throughout the studio.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! OF ALL THE COCKAMAMIE STUNTS YOU’VE EVER PULLED — MUGGLE TV? YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU! IMAGINE MY SURPRISE WHEN I RECEIVED A CALL FROM RITA SKEETER, ASKING FOR A QUOTE FROM THE DELINQUENTS’ MOTHER — I NEVER — IN ALL MY DAYS — YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK ~ AGAIN! AS IF THE MINISTRY HASN’T BEEN FACING ENOUGH BACKLASH, AFTER THAT NIFFLER GETTING LOOSE, NOW THIS? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU TWO COME HOME THIS INSTANT!!!"

Once the assault on everyone’s ears subsided, the presenter unsteadily staggered out of shot, with her hand on her forehead, murmuring “I think I need a nap, or a drink, or both”

The screen cut to another pre-recorded infomercial; a cheerful rock jingle began to play.

You wanna skip class, but not look like an ass? If you want an excuse; What have you got to lose? You better show some moxie, Grab a Skiving Snack Box-y From Weasley- Wizard - Wheezes!

Harry stood slack jawed, in the living room, transfixed by what had just played out on the tv in front of him. Clean laundry scattered around his feet, from where he’d dropped the basket.

“Bloody Hell! Those crazy troll bogeys!” He thought with a grin. A shocked guffaw escaped his throat.

Aunt Petunia gave him a scandalized glare and shrieked “I suppose you have something to do with this?”

Harry scooped all the laundry into his arms and dashed upstairs before she could chastise him any further. Although, he imagined any tongue-lashing Aunt Petunia could give him, would pale in comparison to the dressing down the twins were probably getting, from Molly Weasley, right now. She is one fierce boss-witch.

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall at the Burrow, right now” Harry said to himself, with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to hear the details from Ron!”