#I want to draw angst so bad but I keep getting these stupid ideas that I need to put on paper

[soimse]

“He wants me so bad he just doesn’t know it yet” -Bill Cipher probably

[teyamsgrl]

how sorry i am ✧ lo'ak

❗️MDNI ❗️

OKOK lo'ak is ofc our sweet baby but the idea of enemies to lovers with lo'ak just 🦋🦋🦋 / i hope you all enjoy!! just look at his lil mean face above >:(

°˖➴ warnings: fem metkayina reader, enemies to lovers, agedup!lo'ak, mean!lo'ak, sub!lo'ak, blood mention (not sex related), slight angst, slow burn??, body worship, oral f receiving, some nipple play - paskalin: honey

lo'ak being your brother's best friend was quite the shit position. ever since lo'ak and his family joined the metkayina people a year ago he has despised you, very publicly as well. anytime he saw you, he teased you, talked down to you, etc. he made you feel shitty, but here's the catch: you had an undeniable crush on him. as much as you wanted to deny the fact, you just couldn't. it was something about how you saw him with other people, observing how he really is. how he took care of his little sister and was always willing to help others out. you knew he harassed you for a specific reason; what it was you had no idea. you still acted hostile towards him to keep your true feelings covered, plus it was unfair to let him treat you like this without retaliation.

"lo'ak's staying over" you brother says as he enters your pod late in the evening, lo'ak trailing behind him. you roll your eyes, "great..", you glance up quickly to take in lo'ak's appearance. pretty. "trust me, i'm not pleased about seeing you either" lo'ak scoffs and takes a seat on your brother's cot, taking his bow off of his back. you continue cutting the fruits scattered around you on the woven mat, tossing them into a bowl afterwards. you go to slice the next one in half, accidentally nicking one of your fingers. "ouch.." you mumble, looking down to see the pearl of blood on your finger. you wipe it on a nearby rag, catching lo'ak's eyes on you. "awwww, can't handle a little cut?" he teases, pouting at you. "shut up" you mumble again, moving back to continue cutting, making sure the blood didn't get anywhere else. "can't even cut fruit properly, damn" he smirks watching your eyes narrow in anger. sometimes you wish your brother did something to defend you, but he probably just accepted that you and lo'ak hated each other and it would always be that way. you ignore his comment, "always knew you were a bit incompetent but shit, that's bad" he chuckles mockingly, causing anger to bubble up inside of you. you may secretly like him but he is a dick. you throw down the large fruit in your hand and the knife, standing up and rushing out of your pod. you had it with him, and yourself. what kept drawing you to him? and why couldn't you turn it off? you turn and run past all the other marui, feet hitting the sand as you exhale. you approach the water, about to call your ilu before you hear a voice calling you, "y/n! wait!"

you scoff as you recognize the voice right away, "just leave me alone, lo'ak" you state firmly, back facing him as he comes closer. "y/n" he places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to face him. the ecstatic feeling that ran through your body was indescribable, he had never touched you before, even when passing by. you turn to come face to face with him, your eyes gazing up into his. "i'm sorry-" he mumbles, his amber eyes blank and searching yours. "sorry? you're sorry? after a year of harassing me you're suddenly sorry? i bet my brother made you do this..." you sigh and bring your hands to your head, tugging your braids gently out of frustration. "he didn't, i swear-" you cut him off again, feelings bursting out of your mouth without a second thought. "yeah sure, lo'ak, i doubt it. what made you feel so bad today? instead of yesterday or the day before? fuck- you have never felt bad about making fun of me before, and it's so stupid that i don't just avoid you because of my... because-" you stop yourself before you go too far off the edge and are unable to turn back. "because of what?" he inquires, you have never heard his voice so gentle towards you before. "because i like you, okay?! i like you too much for my own good and i hate the fact that i do!" you scream, tears forming in your eyes as you realize what you've just admitted. you take a deep breath in, unable to release it before lo'ak's lips are on yours, kissing feverishly. you gasp and pull away, trying to figure out if that actually just happened. "don't- don't do that just to mess with me, please" he shakes his head immediately, denying your accusation. "i'm not, i'm genuinely sorry about everything i've said to you. i don't know why i did it, probably projecting my own shit but- i like you too, so much. i just want to make it up to you, if you'd even let me.." you notice how his tail is moving, softly moving left and right as if in anticipation. you nod at his words, trying to comprehend his side of things. "i'm willing to forgive you. you'll most definitely have to prove it, but i'm willing to. and willing to become more eventually… if you'd want that", a small smile pulls itself onto your lips. "thank you..." he smiles back and reaches for your hips, "let me make it up to you, show you how sorry i am, please. how much i feel for you..."

you breathe shakily as he sinks to his knees, bending to start at your ankle and place delicate kisses up your leg. your run your hand along his cheek as he moves to repeat the actions on your other leg. "you're so beautiful, so beautiful..." he whispers and stands back up, kissing along your jaw now. you sigh in delight and tilt your head to allow him to continue. he smiles against your skin and moves down your neck and the middle of your chest. "can i take it off?" he questions as his hands run behind your back to the tie of your top. you nod and shiver as he removes it, the evening air grazing your nipples, breasts perky and freckles glowing. "shit.." he breathes and kisses his way to your nipple, flicking his tongue over it once to test the waters. the whimper that leaves your mouth says enough as he sucks it into his mouth. "l-lo'ak" you stutter out as his warm mouth has your nipple encapsulated, your thighs pressing together to relieve the arousal beginning to pool.

he releases it with a pop, kissing to the other. "i just wanna worship your fucking body.. never seen someone prettier" you whine at his words as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling around it and toying with it. your hands weave their way into his hair, tugging on his braids as another whine escapes your lips. he hums and unlatches again, hands lingering over your loincloth. "wanna taste.. wanna make you feel good... please", he almost whimpers the sentence out, "yes, lo'ak, yes". he unties your loincloth and helps you step out of it, moving to his knees again. he licks his lips and looks over your wet pussy, his head leaning on your stomach. "tell me what you want, please princess, i just wanna please you..." he kisses your stomach and awaits a response from you, his ragged breaths tickling your stomach.

"mouth, mouth..." you look down on him as he places one of your feet on his shoulder, giving him the perfect angle to dive in. which he does. his tongue makes it's first move against your clit, eager bud pulsing under his tongue. you moan and toss your head back, your hips fervently pushing against his tongue. he moves further, tongue delving into your tight and dripping hole. "that's good, that's so good-" you gasp and keep yourself steady by your grip on his braids. he hums into you, the vibrations bringing you even more pleasure. his mouth never falters, licking and sucking and kissing all over your pussy. he shifts away to breathe quickly, "you taste so sweet, even better than i would've thought. so beautiful, i wanna be down here forever" he whines out and moves back in, nose nudging your clit as his tongue glides around and in your hole again. he takes note of your demeanor change, breathing more heavy and hip movements more aggressive.

"you're close, baby. fuck my face, use me. just feel good... i got you" he mumbles as he brings a couple fingers to stroke your clit at a fast pace, desperate to bring you to an orgasm. your eyes roll back as you hold his braids tighter, grinding onto his tongue and into his fingers. "oh great mother- i'm- lo'ak i'm gonna-" you squeal as he frantically rubs your clit, removing his mouth so he can coax you through it. "that's it, you're so perfect, i got you, so perfect... just let go" he moans softly as your orgasm snaps in you, cum flowing out of you as his tongue retreats back into your pussy to collect what he can. your chest is heaving as your legs wobble, mind out of sorts at the fact that lo'ak who 'hated' you just hours ago confessed to you and made you cum.

he helps your leg down, holding you close as he stands back up. "there we go..." he says as you instantly hug around his waist. "thank you, lo'ak" you look up to catch his eyes which are now glowing softly. "no need to thank me, it's the least i could do. you know, to apologize and prove myself to you, all that. i will be doing that very often, if you'll let me" he holds your face in his sizable hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. "well, that was amazing honestly.. and yes, i want to please you sometime as well..." your one finger trails down to his waistband and plays with it. "mhmmm, but you're my first priority always, and i'm gonna start acting like it. no more mean guy..." he sighs, clearly ashamed of how he's acted this past year. "it's alright, paskalin... let's spend the day together tomorrow? i want to show you a special place" you rest your head on his heart, hearing the rapid beats. "i'd really like that" he smiles and rests his chin on your head, basking in your loving presence.

[eluxcastar]

One of Repetition — Chapter One

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: your sudden dismissal from your position of harbinger, and the fatui as a whole, marks the end of the largest chapter in your life. you had never known a day without the tsaritsa's guidance, and you are set to never know another with it.

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader is a harbinger, reader has a pyro vision, capitano is still not human and I haven’t played fontaine or natlan ngl, possible ooc, ACTUALLY EDITED FOR ONCE OMG RIRI CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

୨୧﹑words :: 4.6k

so erm. nooooo it hasn't been like two months since I updated 👀 what are you talking aboutttt. so, yeah, that took me forever (mostly because I was planning things), but I have the next chapter written already, so it'll be just an editing job, most likely 😔 I had this one prewritten too, but ig I decided I hated it. I ended up rewriting most of it. we aren't even out of oneshot content yet omg 😭

my head is on backwards rn it's eleven pm, and I'm supposed to be beta reading someone's fic for them 💀 I just spent all day struggling to fix this

also I have a discord server 🙏 you should join it I spill spoilers there, and there are fun people

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment. 

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth lured others as they boasted of their encounters with you to travellers who would come to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly boosted business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business. 

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you. 

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but on the contrary, it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier. 

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of tourists who also don't belong, and you manage to slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the harbour.

Wangshu Inn, a mid-point between the harbour and the border to Mondstadt, is still within Liyue. It is quieter—which is neither good nor bad—and home to some very understanding owners. They ask so few questions it almost alarms you, but their non-intrusive nature is a welcome change. You crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive as your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged in a corner like a pile of folded laundry for when you eventually return to it.

Something compels you to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. You collect the many pieces from where you stuffed them into your bag and lay them out before undressing from your underclothes. Admittedly, floor-length layered dresses, bustles and extravagance are not your style. If they were, you probably wouldn't have spent years making clinking noises every time you moved your arms. Years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour have attuned you to a hulking weight dragging down your every step.

But…

There's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked the showy outfits of Fontaine anyway, just…not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels…good. 

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

You look at yourself and see a girl. You've always seen a guard or a statue staring back at you, and you can't see the eyes hidden beneath that mask. What you're met with is a girl with messy hair and colourless eyes desperately trying to tame it down as if she's become self-aware that her helmet mussed her hair—it's a girl whose laziness is laid bare.

You watch your own hand pat uselessly at a knot as if that will wish the tangle to stay down by the force of sheer determination. Were those knots always there? You swear they weren't. Though perhaps foolishly, you hope not. You've been walking around like this for almost two weeks now.

Maybe that's why they tried to talk you into getting your hair done…

It's pointless. Your arm drops back to your side. You can't help but admire your reflection as you don a dress that falls just about your knees, even if you're doing it while you stumble to pull on the pair of boots you got with it while still standing. You surrender to crouch down and tie the laces.

When you stand, you return to marvelling at the sight of yourself. The boots are nice. There are no creases at the bends, and you notice the unmistakable clean sheen of new leather that draws a smile to your face. The dress is different—maybe too different—as you're not sure you recognise yourself. It's a dark dress meant to be paired with an undershirt. The saleswoman managed to talk you into one with a collar laced with frills and tied at the wrists and neck with bows—it's a popular style there, supposedly—and isn't this whole 'rebranding' of your identity supposed to be about fitting in? A vest-like piece pulled around your chest belts with a loop of fabric at the front; you assume it was made to vaguely resemble the corsets worn beneath the puffier dresses you shied away from.

The new outfit is making you giddy—too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this is different. A suit of armour, no matter how shiny it may be, has never made you twirl like an overeager dancer just to see the fabric of your skirt catch the air and flow around your legs, only to fall back into place when you stop.

You find satisfaction is usually earned through hardship and perseverance, derived from a fundamental need to complete something you started. This is different. For once, your satisfaction with yourself comes from the beginning of something. This time, happiness comes to you without reason, a given right in this world where you revel in the lightness of your steps and the quiet sway of gentle, breathable fabric.

The jagged teeth you see in your smile can be hidden away behind a tight smile that looks awkward on your face. You ignore the sharp points you can only compare to an animal and pretend your eyes bear a more saturated hue.

Nothing significant has been accomplished. It's not like when you first descended the Abyss and returned unscathed despite your doubts. It's simple. It's human. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it. 

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

Yeah...you should unpack that hairbrush next.

-

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway. People leave you alone and don't crowd your table and head with presence and noise. You actually manage to relax when you're no one, even if you're fidgety and idle, because you have no idea what relaxing is supposed to look like when you're used to spending all of your time doing something, being somewhere, talking to someone. Peace is as hard-earned as victory, and the unfamiliar feeling of relaxation is both comforting and unsettling.

You strike quaint conversations, all of which feel far more enriching than any grandiose, embellished tale you got off a lowly wanderer attempting to make a name for himself on your stage. It's been a long time since you set foot in Liyue, and you don't think you've ever been here for leisure. The very concept of leisure is as foreign to you as the modern lands you're now travelling.

You wait by the lift for a ride back up to your room. A merchant stands by your side, shifting his weight between his feet as he stares up at the descending contraption that seems to laze down to the lower level of the inn.

"Are you from the Adventurers' Guild?" he asks unexpectedly. Your attention snaps from your daydream back to him as you're rudely jolted from your reverie. You're suddenly hyperaware of yourself, the dumb look on your face that you're used to concealing, and the fact that you've been caught off guard.

"No," you answer. Lying to the merchant is useless when it's too easy to disprove, even when it would serve you well.

"Huh. I thought you were," the merchant remarks. "You seemed like you would be. If you've come looking for work, they'll have a place for you."

"What's it to you?" you cannot help but ask.

"I have a transport job that needs doing," he explains with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It would save me a trip and the paperwork of putting up a job."

You nod, and the conversation trails off as the empty lift lowers before the both of you, jolting to a stop as it collides with the floorboards beneath it.

The two of you step on through the open side facing you and settle somewhere around the centre, though he drifts to perch his hand against the side for a hint more stability. You notice how he avoids looking over the edge, focused on what's directly ahead of him.

"They accept anyone?" you continue, wondering how far you'd have to go with your lies to get in. Admittedly, you'd also like to distract the man a bit, even if you'd deny that part given the chance.

He looks at you with a strange gleam in his eyes like he's not sure whether to thank you or scoff at what he must think is your pity. You have no pity for anyone.

"A friend of mine said they'll take anyone," he confirms. "All you need is power, and you have a vision, so I'm sure you'll be fine."

Everything seems to think that. Visions are some god-given, unattainable relic that represents pure power. Maybe they are. They're directly attached to the gnosis every archon received at the end of the archon war. They were Celestia's harbingers of conclusion—the end of an era. After that, though the gods could fight for eternity, it would be meaningless as long as each gnosis was irrevocably tied to a land and a being who possessed the power to crush each of them in an instant. Visions are pathetic slivers of the world compared to those chess pieces.

You have long grown tired of correcting people on that front.

"Will I have to stay here?" you ask instead, meandering back to the idle conversation you imagine humans enjoy far more than batty old ramblings of the past. People from Liyue snicker and sneer in the face of outsiders about their archon walking by their side, but their understanding of their archon is not as it once was.

Descending once a year is nothing compared to living amongst them as Morax used to.

"They have branches everywhere," he assures you. "They communicate with each other. I'll be here if you ever find my commission."

You knew that already, but you needed something to ask. You're saved by the bell as the lift jostles at the top of the inn, the ropes coming to yet another sudden stop and pausing to allow you to step off onto the balcony that oversees the lake and the landscape around you. Your departure is wordless as the merchant doesn't stop to say his goodbyes, eager to meet the other man waiting for him by the guard rail, who greets him with a tight smile and a handshake.

The Adventurers' Guild... You recall it forming. You've never known much about it, however, as it faded into the back of your mind practically the moment it was created. It fell into your version of obscurity naturally and never felt relevant when you were more concerned with the malformed creatures of the Abyss trying to kill you. Monitoring it was never your job, and most adventurers who find their way into the far reaches that you used to don't make it out to tell the tale.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have a look at it when you get a chance. It could give you something to do.

-

Idling is in your nature, as it has been for years.

You idle because you have grown used to it. Patience, waiting, watching. You never liked it, but it is a constant that lingers. Unfortunately, as expected, you are sick of idling. It grew dull way back when you spent night after night bragging to an inn of drunks about something you never did.

So, you cement your name for the very first time.

For hours—perhaps a day—you paced your room at the inn, agonising over an answer to a question you weren't even sure would be posed. Innkeepers don't question paying hands. Adventurers do, especially guilds of them. They want to know all they can.

And you don't have a name.

Perhaps you once did—you certainly can't recall—but whatever you have been called, you no longer have a right to such names, not Brighella and not anything else. You need a new name, and in the absence of your mother, you will have to make your own.

But you cannot decide what.

You spent the night wondering and then the morning, as you woke with a sense of unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels more real than it has ever felt before, the weight of such a thing finally bearing down on you more than drinking and lying and weaving tales of a great adventure you never went on could ever hope to. You suspect people know that many stories you told were embellished or complete lies, but the appeal was never in truth.

The appeal was in a good story to entertain the drunken, and names are not made solely for drunken ears.

Before you descend the tree of Wangshu Inn, you have made your choice.

By the time you come to stand before the two organisers of the Liyue Adventurers' Guild on duty today, you force yourself to make peace with it and scribble the only way you can think to spell it down on the paper they give to you. It's the same old handwriting you recognise to be your own, not made for documents, signed by the weathered hand of a warrior making up a signature on the spot in the cursive hand you have always had.

You signed most of your words to the Tsaritsa that way, told of the deaths of a thousand men, more truthful tales of your ventures through the Abyss.

You withhold the stories, sliding the paper back to the woman with a cursory glance her way, seeking the answers to questions you don't want to ask. She takes it from you, collecting it in her hands and reading it in a brief flicker of her eyes across the page. 

"It's official things," she had told you. "The Snezhnaya branch wants documents of all new and current members, especially now with everything that's going on there."

"Of course," you respond, careful to measure your words and keep from spilling too much. "You can never be too careful."

They're searching for you.

Whether the Fatui wants them to or not, you can't say—perhaps it's someone else's prerogative. You wonder if the thought of reward has crossed everyone's mind as the rumours of your existence travel across Teyvat like wildfire. The promise of potential riches—something actually quite common in the snowy lands—is sure to lure everyone eager for mora to chase the traitorous criminal who tries to escape justice. Reward is how anything gets done in Snezhnaya. 

You're glad you left the armour in favour of the simple knee-length dress you find so much joy in. You're no longer imitating the image of Brighella, as her killer once did.

IIt is no longer a nameless charlatan they're after. You know they'll find you soon.

-

'Soon' seems to come quicker than you expected it would as the walk back, though providing no particular company, does present the same dangers as always—along with some new additions. You thought that the stray fatuus that litter the streets near the Northland Bank would be your greatest foes, a collective of walking spies who notice every passerby with the same keen eyes Pantalone personally carved into each of their loyalty-riddled heads by hand. You've noticed stares before, as you imagine many do not, or which they grew used to.

You eye them back with a scrutiny that you struggle to hide, eyes wandering down the winding stairs to a pair who talk amongst themselves without much regard, engrossed in their conversation. You doubt they would recognise you even if you passed too closely.

You narrowly avoid a salesman haggling you for attention, waving them off and hurrying past before they can finish their pitch, let alone convince you into forking over a single mora as you speed across the bridge from the harbour in pursuit of your only current home. The wind in your hair, as it never really has been before, the cold able to reach your skin in gentle touches, the caresses of wisps.

"Excuse me, miss?" a voice calls to you. From where? Your head whips around in search of the source, first forward, then above to the rock you recall seeing by the edge of the banister. 

Finally, you turn around, faced with the sight of a woman you've never met speaking with a voice you've never heard. It doesn't matter as you take in the deep purple uniform of a cicin mage with a hood adorned by two antenna-like pointed ears and littered with electric violet jewels to match the swinging lantern that crackles to life with a hearty glow—a member of the Fatui. 

The top half of her face is obscured by a mask, as is customary for most of the Fatui, but it is unmistakable the way her teeth flash in an unkind smile as you meet her gaze beneath the cover concealing her eyes. She stands with a stiff posture that gives away the impatience in her every breath and twitch of anticipation.

Has retribution finally come to stare you in the face?

Seconds pass, stuck in an unending standstill, the air thick with looming tension. Silence is all that remains, save for the songs of birds and the whispers of breeze—it is as if neither of you are even there. 

At last, she presents you with a letter. It is sealed with a long-dried splatter of wax decorated in the raised details of the stamp of a Harbinger. She extends it towards you, expecting you to take it sooner rather than later, as she taunts it before you with a jeering wave of the envelope.

"From the Damselette," she explains curtly.

You snatch the object from her with a huff of annoyance, having half the mind to snap for it, though you realise quickly enough that you have no actual authority over her—not in her mind. You look it over, taking in the seal—indeed the mark of the Damselette—and flipping it to check the front to spy if your title is penned upon it. It's blank.

"What could the Damselette want with me?" you ask her.

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. 

Her contempt for your very presence unveils itself with the sharpness of her words, the darkness brought into the light with the ugly sight of an expression that reads like the rot of a once-fresh fruit. 

You're very aware of the fact that her finding you means she knows something—perhaps more than she should. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command, though you'd be a liar to say you memorised every face that matched a name in your division. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard for Brighella, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. 

"I don't know. I'm not privy to those things," the mage adds.

In thought, you trace her from head to toe, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. 

"Walk with me," you say without leaving room for argument as you begin to lead her down the path away from the harbour. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver, even as she obeys your invitation. Maybe she knows you were not asking. "You are not a guest," she retorts pointedly, stating that fact with glaringly false politeness.

You scoff despite your indignance. "Everyone who receives correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest," you tell her with a similar sharpness.

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

The cicin mage quickens to fall into step beside you, an almost peaceful stroll taking the place of your standoff on the bridge. The mockery of something quaint is… pleasant in its own way though suffocating in another. Walking her somewhere that can't be seen from the city should not be too difficult. Maybe then, you'll finally get some peace and quiet. 

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you tilt your head just enough to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response," she says.

You pluck the knife from her hand, spinning it into place with a flick of your fingers—some fool's party trick you picked up gods know how many years ago—and free the contents with a single swipe of the blade, hearing the satisfying tear of the paper you couldn't help but always like. 

Just as the cicin mage believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such—as if it were addressed to the Damselette's dear friend's killer in this volatile hour. Your lies have reached Columbina's ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them with a coy string of tall tales and pretty lies you imagine sound nicer to the ears of all who hear them than a single word from your mouth ever has. That's why she's the one with a title like Damselette rather than you. You never did make a very convincing helpless maiden.

You expected to find scrawls of threats and unfair deals demanded of you in the name of Her Majesty, but it is instead only an innocuous update on what is happening regarding your position—the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. All of the danger you currently face is your own fault, as Columbina less-than-subtly implies to you through her no-doubt carefully worded reasoning and explanations. All you see is a half-hearted apology and an excuse to tell you that you've once again made trouble for her, though you should've expected a scolding. You've earned many and received few. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a Harbinger's funeral but a ceremony to announce their successor does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place—it was a planned betrayal. You imagine they picked the flowers for your coffin long before you caught wind of it. Quelling the rebellions of wayward partisans who see your death as a sign from Celestia would not have helped either, nor the desertion caused by the nerves of your admirers. You're almost certain that worlds have shaken.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason—perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies—she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds, and all that anyone speaks of, even now, months from the day they announced your supposed 'death' to the public.

They'll name him Il Capitano—The Captain.

You would not have picked it for him yourself, but that does not mean that you hate the name—quite the opposite, in fact—as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person.

[bellamyblake]

Fine by dusk

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Smut, Angst, A/busive Relationships, veteran Bellamy working construction, Nurse Clarke;

Words: 15,415

Bellamy and his contruction crew are hired to fix the Griffin manor's back porch and garden. Clarke's stuck in an abusive marriage with Finn who's dream is to have the perfect family life so he could rise through the ranks, become mayor, then perhaps even senator and he doesn't care what he has to do to get it. Meanwhile Clarke feel sad and uncertain of what is even happening to her anymore. That is until she lays eyes on Bellamy Blake.

Bellarke Christmas exchange, written for @dark-scape

"I love it." she admitted "Used to want to go to art school."

"Why didn't you?" she shrugged and looked down at their hands that were so close to each other that all she wanted to do was take his fingers in hers and never let go of them.

"I don't know...mom wanted me to go to medschool and I did grow to love being a nurse."

"But your true passion is drawing?" she hummed and he picked up her chin with his hand, putting their faces really close to each other again. "You should keep up with it."

"I only started drawing again recently." she didn't tell him it had all to do with him but judging by the cocky smile he got on his face, he read right through her.

"Oh yeah? Was there any reason why?"

"I got inspired again." she admitted and decided to tease him as she pushed closer and now their noses touched while her hand reached over to his middle where she put the stethoscope earlier. He reached to put his beer aside and take his leg off the table too, coming in even closer to her. Two could play this game and she was intent to show him that.

"By what?" he asked and she smiled as she snuck her hand under his shirt for a brief moment and grazing his ribs with her nails. His stomach jumped, so did his dick in his pants that were getting really thight for him.

"I have no idea." she said innocently as she pulled away and made his breath hitch again. "What about you? Any passions?" she picked up the plates from the table and went to the sink where she threw away whatever was left in them and turned the water on. Bellamy wasn't stupid-he understood the signs clearly, she wanted this as much as he did and they were simply fooling around right now, playing their game.

He got on his feet and limped to the counter where he leaned on it from behind and trapped her so that she couldn't move. He leaned into her ear and whispered.

"War. I've always been good at it." he admitted. Her breath hitched and she dropped the plate she was holding as the water kept beating on it. When he pushed a bit harder from behind her, rubbing his half-hard dick against her butt, she gasped and he reached to tuck a strand of hair fallen on her cheek, behind her ear. "That and...history. Writing. I like that."

"So you're a writer?"

"Used to be. Overtime I just got better at holding a rifle as I said. Some people may find it to be fucked up but..." he let his hand fall to her side and he quickly snuck it under her arm, so he'd be able to cup her breasto over her thin shirt and make her move on her toes and press hard against his body.

"It isn't." she looked back at him and he smiled at her as he looked down on her. With his good hand he reached out and turned the tap off, then he placed it on her lower stomach, close to her crotch and pushed her harder against his body, rubbing his dick up and down her crack a little without breaking eye-contact with her. "Maybe you should pick it up again." she offered, gasping for it. Her hand flew to his wrist, desperate to hold onto something and he just smiled devilishly again. She hadn't felt that hot and aroused in...maybe ever, she was already pathetically dripping in her panties, so bad, she just wanted to touch herself and his cock pressing against the crack of her ass made it worse despite the fact that it was all happening with their clothes on.

"I don't know...I found a new hobby lately. I think you and I share it." he whispered as his other hand worked to find her nipple and pinch it between his fingers while his other hand went lower to cup her crotch through her jeans. She wasn't sure if he could feel the wetness there already but his eyes widened a little which meant he probably could.

"What's that?"

"Undressing at the window every night and making me go crazy about you." he whispered before he finally leaned down and kissed her.

Clarke lost any ground she had and almost collapsed in his arms-this felt like nothing she's ever done. His lips were so soft against hers and his tongue didn't just move uncomfortably in her mouth, desperate to do something like Finn's did, no...he just kissed her slowly, wanted to become one with her and allowed her the chance to also take charge if she wanted, which she did.

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.4- Claimed

Masterlist

Summary: On the road Daryl is forced to join a motorcycle gang in order to survive Whether he likes it or not.

Warnings: age gape, mentions/ attempt to SA, groping, creepy men, kidnaping, angst, possessive Daryl, protective Daryl, fluff and typical twd violence and gore.

WC: 8.9k

Daryl was so tired he didn't realize he had fallen asleep, sitting in the middle of the road with his head hanging in exhaustion. He had just lost the last person he cared for and the point to keep on felt lost. It was that same heavy feeling of defeat when the prison had fallen. His newfound family was gone, his brother and then Julia. He didn't care for walkers nor the world around him, nothing matters at this moment. He just wanted to deseper, ses to exist into nothing.

He wakes when seven men surround him.

Daryl glances as one of the men thread forward, he wasn't gonna get killed by some assholes after all.

“Well, lookit here.” The man spoke.

Daryl proceeded not to move, but when the man got too close Daryl clocks him in the face, aiming his crossbow at his head. The men surrounding him pointed their guns, but Daryl showed no indication of stepping down.

“Damn it, hold up!” The man on the ground ordered.

He looked to be in his mid fifties, rugged with untrimmed hair and beard, the man was the leader of the motorbike gang.

“I’m claiming the vest. I like them wings.” A man from behind spoke, but Daryl’s only focus was on the man in front of him.

“Hold up.” The leader ordered again, and laughed as he stood to his feat. “A bowman. I respect that.” He compliments. “See, a man with a rifle, he could have been some kind of photographer or soccer coach back in the day. But a bowman’s a bowman through and through. What you got there, 150-pound draw weight? I’ll be donkey-licked if that doesn't fire at least 300 feet per second. I’ve been looking for a weapon like that. Of course, I’d want one with a bit more ammo and minus the oblongata stains.”

The abnoxes man from behind spoke again, “Get yourself in some trouble, partner?” And this time Daryl did notice him but ignored him, narrowing his eyes at the leader before him.

The leader continued, “You pull that trigger, these boys are gonna drop you several times over. What you want?” No response, he continued. “Come on, fella, suicide is stupid.” Then he smiled and asked, “Why hurt yourself when you can hurt other people?......Name's Joe.” The leader offered.

Daryl knew how dangerous it was to be on your own and to be truthful he couldn't stomach the idea just after losing Julia. He knew they were bad right off the bat, but what he also knew was he would easily fit in with these types of men, because that was what he did hanging with his brother when he wasn't locked up or wherever the hell he was when he wasn't around. So he stands down, and so does Joe's men.

Daryl looks at Joe, “Daryl,” he offers his name in return and joins them. But only for the time being he tells himself.

The day went by fast, he hanged back, none of the men showed any interest in talking to him along the road, he wasn't much of a talker himself, he rather be left alone. The group reminded way too much of Merle and his life before everything was overrun, but he rather not think about that. He thought of her, of Julia, over and over again. Twisting everything that went down before losing her. Meaby If he had done something different or just been fast enuff, just maybe Julia would be here, walking by his side.

They set up camp in the wods to rest for the night.

The forest floor sadly reminded him of her, her soft snores, the little sounds she would make and how easily she found comfort in him; he had taken it for granted because he thought they would have more time. It felt like she would appear right there beside him, that yesterday was no more than a bad dream.

He didn't long for sleep to take him but neither did he want to be awake.

Daryl woke at dawn.

Unable to stand the way he was feeling, he went off to fend for himself, leaving the stuff he had scavenged on the road at camp.

It was good game for rabbits, he could tell by the tracks. Patiently waiting for the rabbit to come within shooting distance. He kneeled, steadily aiming, elining the crossbow to get the perfect shot. One steady breath and he fired. His bolt hit the target but so did someone else from behind. Daryl gets up and looks at the same man that had wanted to claim his west, holding a compound bow, giving him a smug smile.

“What the hell are you doing?” Daryl said angrily.

“Catch’n me some breakfast.”

Daryl walked towards the dead rabbit, “That’s mine.”

“My arrow’s the one that hit first. Cottontail belongs to me.” The man insisted as of fact. Daryl kneels, taking out the arrows of the rabbit and continued, “Been out here since before the sun came up.”

“You see, the rules of the hunt don’t mean jack out here. Now that rabbit you’re holding-,” Daryl tossed the man's arrow, he could care less about what he had to say, it was his and he could tell him nothing. “Is claimed, boy. Claim whether you like it or not. So I was you, I’d hand it over. Now, before you get to wishing you ain’t never even got out of bed this morning.” The man threatened.

Daryl walked up to him, closing their distance, caring himself with confident strides. He knew what this was but he could care less, he wanted simply to be done with the conversation, “It ain’t yours.” Daryl told him. But the man had sensed Daryl's sullen demeanor ever since he joined them, the man began, in knowing.

“You know, I’ll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hmm?” Daryl ignores the man's insinuation “Am I right?” The man said, smiling, Daryl gave him a glare and prosedes to walk past him.

“Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail.” He taunts, and that got Daryl to stop in his tracks, angel wings facing the man. “Must have been a good’un. Tell me something. Was it one of the little’uns? ‘Cause they don’t last too long out here.”

Daryl had always struggled keeping his temper at bay, controlling it. He could feel that dark part of him slowly coming back, that part of his past he thought he had left behind sins finding his newfound family. But they were all gone. He had tried to control it, to refrain himself from giving the abnoxes man the satisfaction of getting a raise out of him. He tried to stay calm, and at some point it seemed easier. He had been more in control of himself - hiding his emotions from enemies and friends alike. But every word leaving the man's mouth made him feel pure, burning, animalistic rage. He didn't care about the repocations his actions would have. If he wanted to rile him up, he would show him exactly what happened to those who crossed the line. The urge to simply make the man shut his fucking mouth -to inflict pain. He could see himself doing it, enjoying it even.

If Julia knew what he was thinking, what he was about to do, she would surely fear for what his hands were capable of. But Julia wasn't here, so what did it matter?

Slowly Daryl reached for his knife, unholstering it, gripping the hilt as he had become completely clouded by rage. Every muscle in his body was tense with adrenaline pumping through his veins. Daryl charged towards the man, but in the same second Joe held him back before he could even attempt to stab him and calmly stepped between the two men, breaking up the fight that was about to unfold.

“Easy, fellas, easy. Let’s just put our weapons down. See if we can’t figure out what’s really the problem here, huh?” Joe spoke with calm.

Daryl held a cold unforgiving gaze upon the man that only could be described as a death glare. The man kept smiling that shit-eting grin, his reaction had clearly satisfied him as if this was all a game. But this was no game for Daryl, If Joe hadn't stepped in the moment he did, he would be a dead man right now.

The altercation that morning had him a lot to think about. There were rules so things wouldn't get so tense within the group. As Joe had put it, "Going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. Still it is survival of the fittest. That's a paradox right there." When the members wanted to mark something as their own they said the word "Claimed." And Daryl had denied to claim anything, he thought the whole thing was stupid as he believed there were no rules no more, he had his own code of course that he followed like the law itself.

The day continued, Joe and Daryl walked along one another along a raile road with the grope infront of them. Daryl thought the leader was alright by him, it didn't mean he liked him, he could stand him and hold a conversation, though Joe was the one who mostly did the talking as Daryl was a man of few words. Their conversation shifted focus to Daryl when Joe asked,

“So what’s the plan, Daryl?

“How so?” Daryl asked in return.

“You're with us now, but you ain’t soon?”

“Yep.” Daryl confirmed looking at the ground as they walked. Joe continued trying to get a concrete answer out of him, “So what’s the plan?”

To be truthful, Daryl didn't have a solid plan yet, but now when Joe asked him he found his first thought was of Julia. He didn't know what had happened to her other than being kidnaped. He didn't know if she was dead or alive. But he had convinced himself that she was alive somewhere. Maybe her optimism had rubbed off, it wasn't like him to be hopeful, but it was what had kept him going so far. Daryl shrugged trying to find the right way to put it, without giving too much away.

“Just looking for the right place is all.”

“Oh, we ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Joe sarcastically remarked. Daryl scoffed thinking of his altercation this morning with Len, “Some of you ain’t exactly friendly.”

Joe smiled, “You ain’t so friendly yourself. You know you need a group out here.”

"Maybe I don’t.”

“No, you do.” Joe insisted. “You should be with us.”

A walker snarls ahead, the men in front take care of it and their pleasure of taking it down doesn't go unnoticed by Daryl. Joe continued, “People don’t got to be friendly. We don’t have to be nice. We don’t have to be brothers in arms. We just got to follow the rules. You claim. If you steal, you keel. I know that sounds a little funny, but nobody laughs when something goes missing. And you don’t lie. ‘Cause that’s a slippery slope indeed.”

"What happens if you break ‘em?” Daryl asked.

“Oh, you catch a beating’. The severity of which depends upon the offense and the general attitude of the day. But that doesn't happen much because when men like us follow rules and cooperate a little bit, well the world becomes ours.” Joe looks ahead to an auto parts garage aside the track and orders the grope, “Right there. It’s our abode for the evening.”

Everyone began to head towards the entrance but Daryl doesnt follow, he looked to Joe and said “Hey. There ain’t no us.” Joe turned and faced him, “You leaving right now?” Daryl doesn't answer. “No?” Joe questions him, “Then it sure seems like there’s an us.” Joe turns and heads towards the entrance, then turns again,

"Are you a cat person, Daryl?" His words made him freeze, and he looked up at Joe. "I am," Joe continued, "Loved 'em since I was three years old. Vicious creatures. Anyway, I'll tell you, and this is true. Ain't nothing sadder than an outdoor cat that thinks he's an indoor cat."

Daryl thought about that for a moment before he followed the others into the building.

Daryl knew what Joe was getting at. Daryl had always told himself he was better off alone, but deep down, he knew in his heart he wasn't. The more he twisted and turned the idea, if he decided to join these men maybe it was the right thing to do. And he was gonna find Julia, he was surely gonna spot a lead of her along the roads they seemed to stick by. Daryl was never gonna tell the others of his plan, he didn't trust them in that sense. The moment he finds a leed he's going to ditch them without hesitation.

The others had claimed the vehicles as their bed for the night and his reluctance to give in to this claim thing they had going. He still thought that keepers' find mentality was stupid and therefore left him no other choice than to simply lay down on the cold cement floor. But Daryl was too tired to care, he just wanted to be in his own thoughts for a while, chewing on one of his cinnamon sticks, calming the urge for another cigarette after he had smoked some with Joe earlier that day.

One of the men approached him. It was Len. Daryl could tell he was up to no good. Ever since he had run into these guys, Len had been set on making his life hell. Len began with an accusing tone, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Christ.”

Daryl glanced up at Len from where he laid on his back and sat up fully, his attention now on him.

“Give it here.” Len ordered, stepping into his personal space.

“You step back.” Daryl said warningly.

“My half was in the bag. Now it’s gone. Now ain’t nobody around here interested in no half damn cottontail except you.” Len points an accusing finger towards the now standing Daryl. “Ain’t that right?”

“You’re the only one still thinking about that crap.” Daryl groweld back.

Len stepped towards his stuff and demanded again, “Empty your bag.” Daryl takes his bag and steps back in the same motion, creating a distance between them, Daryl warns again more firmly this time, “I said step back.” Len gives him glare. Joe interferes like last time and snatches the bag to investigate Len’s accusation and questions, “Did you take his rabbit, Daryl? Just tell me the truth.”

Daryl could feel anxiety bloom in his chest, because he knew this could gow south, though he had done nothing of what he was accused of. Liyn was strictly forbidden, if Joe decided he was guilty or suspected him he would be punished by the group or as Joe had put it,’kach a beating. And that fact alone made him even more angry towards Len.

“I didn’t take nothing.” Daryl hissed in defense.

Joe emptied Daryl’s bag on the floor, revealing the other half of the rabbit was indeed there. Daryls head snapped to Len. He fucking new that muther fucker had planted it there when he whasen’t looking.

“You put that there, didn't you?” Daryl confronted Len angrily, stepping closer. “When I went out to take a piss! Didn’t you?!” Daryl pushed Len back enuff for him to stumble back a step. But Len keeps on his accusation pointing a finger into his chest, “You lied. You stole. We gonna teach this fool or what, Joe?” Len said through his teeth like venom.

Always the calm and composed leader he was in these situations, Joe calmed, “Whoa, whoa.” Stepping between them with his attention to Len who was the most railed up at the moment, “Now, Daryl says he didn’t take your half of the rabbit. So we got a little conundrum here. Either he’s lying, which is an actionable offense, or…” Joe smiled and laughed, “You didn’t plant it on him like some pussy, punk-ass, cheating, coward cop, did you? ‘Cause while that wouldn’t be specifically breaking the rules, it’d be disappointing.”

“It would.” Len nodded in agreement, “I didn't.” he insisted.

“Good.” Joe said with a nood. He looked at Daryl and breathed, “Well…” Joe throws a right hook in Len’s face making him descend to the ground.

“ …teach him a lesson, gent’s. He’s a lying sack of shit. I’m sick of it. Teach him all the way.” Joe commands and the men begin to kick and beat Len on the floor.

Lens grunts of agony filled the garage.

A part of him didn’t agree with Len getting punished or more how he was beaten by the others, the unfairness of it. But then he turned his back, the commotion behind him. Daryl was a man of survival and knew to play his cards right. Daryl blocked the relentless kicks and grunts from the commotion behind him, laying back just like he did before Len had interfered. Everything became background noise, blocking it all out like many times before. And when the men Dragged Len outside, closing the door behind them to continue whatever they were doing, everything was quiet again.

Daryl dreamt of Julia that night, a common theme since he'd lost her. He dreamt of holding her like he never dared to do, he wished he had. But he had always been too shy to act on his feelings. So he held her just a little tighter knowing when he woke, Julia would no longer be in his arms.

In the early morning the group heeded out. Daryl was shocked to discover they had beaten Len to death and left him in a ditch outside, impaled with his own arrow. For a moment he was taken aback. He had seen cruelty before the world became what it was but it never meant it didn't affect him. Len was an asshole but this didn't feel right.

Just as he was about to cover Len's body with a blanket, just like what he had done for Julia back at the golf club, he remembered what he had done, framing him. That this would have been him, lying in a ditch, with his bolt through his eye.

Whatever pity he had felt was gone and he went along with the others, hanging back with Joe who seemed to like talking to him and to be honest he didn't mind. It distracted him from the ace that only seemed to have grown each passing day.

Passing Joe’s white lightning between them as they conversed or mostly Joe conversating as Daryl preferred to listen, but Joe didn't seem to mind, he seemed like one who liked to talk. Daryl took a swing frome the homemade alcohol,

“I ain’t been lit at dawn since before everything fell apart.” Daryl confessed.

“Fell apart.” Joe ecod. “I never looked at it like that. Seems to me like things are finally starting to fall together. At least for guys like us. Living like this, surviving. We’ve been doing this from the start, right?”

And Daryl had. He had been living in this world before walkers roamed the earth. Fighting and surviving he had done as long as he could remember, it was the only thing he really knew. Back with his group they described it as the end of the world, as if the world had stopped and their lives had come to an end. But for him it had only just begun, he was free, more free then he had ever been before. Maybe he was made for how things are now, like Julia had said that night. He tried not to think about it too much, because if he was, Julia wasn't.

Upon a road, the forest now behind them, one of the men in front looked at the road sign, “Just a few more miles.” The man informed the group.

Daryl was the last to pass the sign. He looked to Joe beside him as he grew curious, “So is that where we’re headed?”

“So now you’re asking?” Joe questioned and Daryl confirmed. “That’s right.”

“We don’t like to stay in the same place, we like to be on the move. It keeps us from losing our edge. But that doesn't mean we don’t rest our legs once in a while. I think you will like it. Last time we found a neighborhood like this one we got lucky.”

Daryl thought that made sense. Before the prison they survived going from house to house, then went on the road when they had enuff to last them for a while before doing it all over again.

“Claimed.” Daryl said before the man in front could grab the wild strawberry plant. The man said nothing and continued along as Daryl picked up the plant by the road, then shoved the lone strawberry in his mouth, “What you mean by lucky?” Daryl asked Joe.

“That got your attention?” Joe said, amused.

"Yah."

Joe continued. “You should have been there. Got our hands on a little bunny, pure as snow I tell you. They are very hard to come by these days if you know what I mean? She gave a hell of a fight but you know how women are saying the opposite of what they want, and I know she wanted it, they all do. Shure wished she lasted longer, but you know how those little ones are?”

Daryl didn't say a word, he couldn't seem to find them. Because what was there to say when someone talked so freely of such horrific actions that made you physically ill?

An unsettling feeling settled in his gut. He knew then he needed to ditch these guys, sooner than he had planned but he had to play along for now.

It’s jarring, the ringing in her ears and the sharp pain coming from the back of her head. Her eyelids felt heavy as they slowly fluttered open to darkness. The ringing in her ears fade as the hum of an engine slowly wakes her oriented body. A seat belt was strapped over her chest, her body tilted towards the passenger's side window, eyes slowly found focus of the night through the window, watching trees speed by along the lone country road, clouds were wisebulle by the moon's soft light and she tried to remember why she would be in a car but it hurt. The last thing she remembered was the prison, but then a low voice, a voice of a man she hadn't taken notice of speaks, her whole body goes rigid to the stranger beside her.

“Worried you were never gonna wake up, you took quite a hit.”

The man was dressed in a clean police attire, fully equipped. It was out of place. Groomed and was clearly well taken care of with short kept hair, his receding hairline indicating he was in his late 30s. Julia looked at the man and spoke in a small timid voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta.”

“How did I end up here?"

The man looks at her, giving her a smile she finds difficult to read, but it makes her skin crawl and her heart pound. His focus returns back on the road ahead.

“Had a lead on some guns that were pretty far out. That’s when I spotted you, wiggling in the road.

And Julia says nothing, she just stares perplexed, trying to remember past the blanks she tries to fill, but it’s all so difficult.

“Can you remember your name?”

“Julia.”

The man echoes her name to himself, he looks at her, his gaze taking her in.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He muses in an unsettling way making her avoid his lingering gaze.

But then…. She does remember something or more like someone.

Daryl

She remembers fighting a walker but then everything went black and now she's her. Clearly the hit to her head had been hard enough to affect her memory and she hoped it would all come back. Trying to process everything she looks down and blinks a couple of times before her gaze falls on the man once more and speaks more desperate this time, with the thought of Daryl in her mind.

“The man I was with, did you see him?”

The man glances at her, clenching the sterling weal enough for her to notice, but his expression does not change and he tells her without looking her way.

“You were alone.” Her stomach drops and her eyes grow wide. “If I didn’t save you when I did, you’d be dead right now.” Julia’s strong reaction goes unnoticed. “One was eyeing your thighs when I showed up. But I got there first.”

His hand travels along her thigh, feeling her over the fabric of her skirt, slowly revealing her skin underneath. She lets out a small noise of discomfort and freezes just like many times before, like when boys in school had touched her, or smacked her ass in the corridors. Freezing like a deer caught in headlights, she doesn't dare to move a muscle.

“Jacket that rotter up.” He said and Julia could hardly breath.

A sickening panic blooms in her chest that travels through her whole body. Recoiling from his touch in discomfort and disgust he only keeps on feeling her up with his fingers slowly traveling up her thigh. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to move away from the man's groping hands. And when he spoke once more she wanted to throw up, crawl out of her own skin, because his words were just as sickening as his hand on her skin, that was now dangerously close to the hem of her panties.

“It would be nice to have a pretty little thing like you. You're like a little girl. A pretty little girl. I bet your mother told you ‘don’t talk to strangers. But I’m no stranger. I’m Gorman. I wouldn't hurt you…mmmh…your skin is so nice and soft.”

Julia couldn't speak but she was screaming inside of herself for him to stop, to not be touched without consent like many before had dune. Julia's heart hammered in her ears, her breath rapid as she trembled in terror beneath his touch.

Often Julia struggled to tell the difference between good and bad people -but that look in his eyes and the unsettling way he touched her, ignites an instinct inside of herself, screaming she has to get out, she’s in danger, that this man wants to do something against her will. Her hand reached for her knife, but he of course had taken it. And she knew she could not kill him nor had the will to inflict pain to another person. She was nothing like Daryl, fearless and strong but that made her only think of him more and grew more desperate as she all but whispered.

“Please turn back, he must have made it.”

But Gorman turned angry and grounded out “As I said, you were alone! And I think you're safe here with me!”

Julia didn't know what to do, she felt so lost and scared without Daryl and she knew she had to do something. She begged again and again to stop the car, for him to turn back, to let her go. But he got so angry and aggressive towards her, making Julia turn to complete fight or flight when she for the first time acknowledged her arm was locked up in handcuffs in the car's door handle. Realizing this man had locked her up, to do what she did not dare to name, and that look in his eyes of evil and lust, Julia knew he was a sick, sick man who would and had done unspeakable things.

In an attempt to somehow stop the car she threw herself over the steering wheel, desperately fighting to take control. But he was so much stronger. The tiers made an awful squealing sound as Gorman fought against her. He looked away from the road to pull her free hand off the sterling weak but the next second everything stopped…

Daryl was hanging back as they reached their way to the rich neighborhood, big houses with overgrown yards that once had been neatly kept by the owners were now abandoned.

The plan was to slowly disappear as they began looting the area for supplies and he would be on his merry way to find Julia. But just as he was about to slip away something ahead caught his eye. And for a moment he thought he had miraculously. Somehow. Found her.

A black car with white a wight cross.

Daryl's stomach plummeted, his steps slowing down.

The others walked past the car and began to clear the first house on the block, not notesting their newfound companion lagging behind.

Slowly, Daryl approached the car, he had to know.

There were tire marks on the asphalt indicating something had gone wrong, something terribly wrong. The car had crashed into a tree, the front window was cracked and the hood was all buckled up by the impact. When he rounded the car to investigate the inside, he swore his heart stopped beating. His head was pounding and his body began to sweat. He felt so stiff, but at the same time like his legs were going to turn to jelly. He had felt this feeling before, back when he found Merle reanimated as a walker and when he thought Carol was dead.

The interior was smeared with gore and guts. Both front seats were bloodied, there were no bodies, just bits and pieces indicating there had been a walker feast, likely the same night he’d lost her.

Daryl picked up a knife that had fallen to the floorboard on the drivers side, not far from it lies the diary. With the last traces of Julia in his hand, Daryl knew enuff of what had happened.

A part of him accepted it, as all the evidence was there, but the other part of him was in denial.

Knees buckled beneath him, he couldn't feel the pain of the ground digging into his skin. He felt like throwing up, guilt pounding in his head, telling him over and over, another death was on his hands, his fault, only adding to that mental list of all the people he'd lost. It feelt so heavy he didn't know if he could stand up again. No tears were shed though his eyes were burning, it was like he couldn't cry.

Hollow and empty -he was nothing again. Because what was he when he couldn't protect the ones he was supposed to? He couldn't protect his blood, his family, his friends, his people…He couldn't even protect Julia.

All he wants is to see her again. Hear that sweet voice and tell her what his sorry ass really wanted to say. There were so many things he wished he had done differently now when he knew he had last her. He regretted the cruel way he had spoken when they got drunk, how he had been so ruff and cold towards her when all she had been was nothing but kind.

Julia was too good for this world and he was a maid for it.

Daryl could recall every moment they'd shared. He didn't realize he had become so attached to someone he had known for such a short period of time. But he had never met anyone like Julia before. Julia was the first girl who was genuinely nice to him, who so deeply cared for him. No questions asked and she was there. She never blamed him when he said cruel things, because she understood he never meant them. She was never uncomfortable to be close, embracing him, holding his hand, seeking comfort or to give him comfort, and it had all felt so good. It was like she could strip him bare with her eyes and truly see him for who he was, and that feeling, he had longed for his whole life.

Just when he began to believe in hope, even when he had lost her, he believed there was that little chance he could find her. Because that was what he did -he found people. But this was not what he had in mind.

Beneath all that hard exterior his heart aced teribully as Julia's soft voice rang in the back of his head.

"I’ll be gone someday…" "Stop…" "I will. You're gonna be the last man standing. You are. You're gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone Daryl dixon…"

If she only knew how much he missed her now.

"There are still good people Daryl…" "I don’t think the good ones survive…"

And Julia….was one of the good ones.

Daryl didn't know how to face what had just happened, finding the car the way he did. For selfish reasons he wanted to forget her -all of them. So he pretends he doesn't care, that he isn't broken once again.

Killing the cigarette against his skin, Daryl felt a sense of relief from the pain in his chest, but it lasted only for a moment. He had opted to venture to the other part of the neighborhood until he stumbled upon a few walkers in the mostly walker free eria, and it was strange as it was clear that there had been evidence there had been more just days ago. They were snarling, dragging their feet towards him from the garage door they had been banging on.

He could have easily just jogged off and they would have left him alone, but the anger inside of himself didn't let him. There was this satisfaction in his outlet when killing them, and it was a much needed relief, much like bak at the golf club.

The walker's body’s lies on the yard of the house, he scans the abandoned houses around him then looks to where the walkers had been trying to get in and heads towards the garage. Inside he realizes he's stumbled across a car, he removes the tarp of the truck and opens the hood finding the battery is missing, making him sigh in frustration slamming the hood shut. He shakes his head leaning against the hood, then notices a green refrigerator that seemed to be working. Stored batteries and containers labeled Sulf and Sid inside and Daryl knew he could get it back running again. Going back outside he finds one of the walkers carrying the key to the truck, the owner of the house was smart but not smart enough to get infected.

Going through the stuff inside he finds an All Purpose Charger and hooks it up to the truck battery. Estimating it would be fully charged in the early morning as the truck was in a fairly good condition like the battery itself. But the thing was he didn't know where he would go, did he even want to go now when he found a good truck that would take him wherever he pleased? Maby new Mexico? He had always dreamed of going there bak when he was a kid. But what was the point?

He couldn't find one.

The late afternoon sun glowed on him as he walked down yet another street until finding where the men had settled in one of the bigger houses. And why Daryl decided to join them inside, he didn't question, he just did, his body moving on its own.

The men gave him a look but didn't dare to say anything of his ruffed up appearances, it was obvious something had happened. They notest him, then went along with their business. They got the message to not ask, it was his business and it was clear this group did not not care for one another like his group had, the only thing they cared about was claiming and keeping to Joe's ‘self proclaimed rolls’.

Joe was held up defusing a quarrel in the living room and Daryl opted to one of the bedrooms upstairs, shutting the world out but his mind would not let him rest.

Daryl had lost many along the way; it was nothing new, it was inevitable. But this time was different. It hurt more, the pain was straight up unbearable. It didn't make sense why this time would be different, but it was, and there was no denying that.

Sinking into the comfort of the bed he reached for his back pocket and began to look through the diary, flipping through pages. There was an artistic streak the way she had written small poems and drawn sketches of animals, flowers and people from the prison he supposed. The writing was crooked, a little hard to read with the misspelling, but he didn't mind.

Soon the exhaustion of los had caught up to him, he fell asleep with the book over his heart with the map Marlene had given to him all the way back when she had begged him to take her, and he had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her too.

Daryl didn't know how much time had passed, the setting sun outside told him he had slept at least an hour. Comotion down stairs had escalated, something about one of the men lying and getting punished for it.

Joe telling him “his rules” was effective, putting them in line or whatever he had said seemed like bullshit. Sitting up with his legs off the bed, arms resting on his knees he could hear arguing and pleading from the man that was accused of lying.

“No, no, no please. Please, don’t. Please!"

A loud thud followed by a pained scream of the man down stairs filled the house as the others laughed in amusement. Daryl could have interfered if he wanted to, but he couldn't find it in himself to care, it wasn't his place to interfere nor his business.

“Oh, God!” The man groans in agony.

“You plan of finishing the job?” One of the men said. “Yeah. I’m getting an earache and I know he’s just gonna let his ass squeal.” Answered the other.

“After what he did, the man deserves to bleed.” The third man said.

“Y’all stay down there if you want.” The fourth man said and began to walk up the stairs to claim one of the two bedrooms left before the others could, still handling the man down stairs. The man searched the rooms until he settled for the one next door to him. The door must have been locked but eventually he heard it open and close.

Daryl opted to busy himself looking through the room knowing he wasn't gonna find sleep again. Engrossed in the impressive Metallica collection Daryl didn't pay much attention to the mens chatting frome down stairs, not hearing one of the men halloring.

“There’s a woman shaking up in here.”

Immediately it got the rest of the men's attention. Finding a newly washed shirt disappointed some, but Joe ordered them to be ready for anything in case the owner of the shirt would return and possibly cold return with others that could be a threat. The four men dispersed, Joe watched the front porch as the others gathered their guns to watch the sides from the inside of the house.

A thud from the other room caught Daryl's attention for just a second, but didn't think anything of it as no other sounds were made; he turned his attention back to some motorbike magazines. Flipping the third page there was another thud, it was distinct, more like a struggle. Strange. Then there was another voice, a faint, muffled, ‘No -coming from a woman.

There was clear sense something was not right, his gut told him so and it had never proved him wrong before. The instinctive feeling of something wrong was enough for Daryl to step out from his room to approach the door where the noise came from. Then he listened in just like he did when hunting, tilting his head he heard trashing coming from the bed inside, making him draw his knife by muscle memory, his hand was around the door knob, turning it, pushing the door open. And there was nothing that could have prepared Daryl for what was unfolding behind that door.

His world stopped.

In a span of mere seconds, Daryl went through three intense stages of emotions. From shock taking in what unfolded before him, Julia very much alive lies on the bed, with a man on top of her holding her down with one hand strangling her and the other hand groping her between her legs, as she does everything in her power to escape. Then came the realization. There was the smallest choking sound as her face was filled with such terror and fresh tears streaming down her face, making his eyes sting. Lastly, came the rage. His hand tightened around the hilt. Rage scratched at the back of his skull right at the base. Right where emotions turned to turmoil, he could feel himself giving in to that anger, that darkness. The man had almost exposed her under the skirt, her panties on soon to be ripped off. While one hand was pressing around her throat his other hand moved aggressively between her legs. The man had the most vile expression Daryl had ever witnessed, making his blood boil, vision turning red and he demands, his voice low and deadly.

“Get your fuckin hands off her.”

Julia tried to escape the man's hold, trashing beneath him with her feet, kicking and scratching fingernails in an attempt to free her throat. The lack of oxygen made her vision turn blurry, darkening round the edges, she could feel how her limbs weakened and her strength slowly leaving her.

Julia had hoped it was all just a bad dream. But there was so much pain, it hurt too much to just be a nightmare and she knew the horrifying truth…This was real. The idea to simply let it happen, to get it over with seemed like a better option at some point.

It would happen but it would be over, she told herself.

Just as Julia was about to give in to her fate, the pressure was gone and she could breathe. In and out. Fresh air filled her lungs as she gasped and coughed, fingers gently touching the sore skin on her neck. Julia struggled as she moved carefully to the center of the bed, vision returned though it was still a bit blurry she could make out the commotion on the floor in front of her. She saw the back of another man on top of the man that had attacked her just seconds ago. There was grunting, heavy breaths drawn along with the unmistakable sound of knuckles thudding against soft damaged flesh.

Julia stared wide eyed, her breaths heavy, she was no longer coughing but a hand remained on her throat. The man below the stranger didn't fight back nor move, the man had been beaten to death, a pole of blood expanding on the floor of crimson red. The stranger stood to his full height turning to her, but Julia didn't look at him, her eyes were fixed on the monster that had tried to force himself on her in the vulnerable state of sleep. As if she waited for his limp body to come back from the dead and do it all over again.

But that moment never came.

Daryl had been lost in his anger but the moment he remembered Julia was there, very much alive, he stopped. Daryl stands there watching her, she is disheveled, her beautiful curly hair is a mess, her cheeks raw and soaked in tears, and her eyes have blown wide. She was still in her skirt and camisole. She didn't notice he was standing there, and all he wanted was for her to look at him, to know he was here, that the man would no longer harm her.

“Julia.” No response, he tries again, “Julia, look at me.”

And slowly he can see her reacting to his voice, finally acknowledging his presence. Her eyes landed on his bloodied hand then the knife in his other. Their eyes met and all he saw was fear, fear of him. Panic bloomed in his chest, realizing Julia didn't recognise him, as if he was the same man as the one bleeding out on the floor. The thought of her being afraid of him was devastating, unbearable even.

Daryl didn't know the way his hair covered his eyes, the way the knife looked in his hand as the other was drenched in blood, all Julia could see was a monster. .

In Daryl's eyes Julia looked like a wounded fawn, and maybe that was what she was in that moment? And just in that way he said carefully.

“It’s me. It's just me.”

Desperately he tried again when she didn't respond, putting his knife away, his palms facing her, being as non threatening as he possibly could.

“You know me. Daryl. Remember?"

And Daryl could see the shift happening behind her fearful eyes to recognition. He didn't move, just simply stayed where he was, afraid he would only frighten her in her timid state.

Stiffly Julia crawled out of the bed, slowly but carefully standing to her feet. She felt so shaken from the way she had woken, in the most terrifying way possible. It was difficult to stand, even to draw in air. But hearing the voice she never thought she would hear again, and she had to know the man before her was him, she wiped the tears away, moving towards him.

Daryld watched her slowly approach him, and he had to strain himself not to grab her, pulling her into his arms, knowing he had to let her come to him.

Julia grabbed the fabrike of his shirt looking up where his eyes would be, covered by dark strands of hair that had fallen to a mess. When Daryl looked down, his dark pools of blue met hers and Julia knew then it was him, it was real.

Julia reached for him, both hands now grabbing at his shirt, face buried into his warm chest, his beating heart thumping under his skin.

Julia inhaled shakelly…And said.

“Daryl.”

It was fragile the way she said it and immediately relief washed over him. Finally Daryl dared to touch her, holding her close with both of his big arms swallowing her smaller form. She smelled of her natural scent, with a hint of shampoo and all the sweet things that reminded him of her. All of her was soft, welcoming and full of life, just how he remembered her, and he said softly in return.

“That’s right.” he breathed out, cradling the back of her head with a hand, “It’s me. It's just me.”

But their reunion was cut short by the men down stairs growing impatient with his absence, and the man he’s just beaten to death. The evidence on the floor and the blood on his knuckles.

Daryl knew the moment they realized what he had done, they would surely kill him, ‘teach him all the way’, like they did Len. The chilling feeling of knowing, knowing and knowing what these men had done, what they could do, knowing Julia would suffer a horrific fate she almost did just moments ago settled a sense of horror in him.

But nothing was going to happen to her, he was going to make sure of it.

Julia dried her tears once more as Daryl grabbed her pack and gray cardigan that had been thrown to the floor, then approached her feeling a sense of urgency and panic even though he stayed calm for the sake of her.

“This all your stuff?”

Julia could only nod as she put on the cardigan and Daryl noticed it was more in a need to cover herself up after being exposed in such a way she had been.

The relief she had felt dissipated the moment she recognised voices of men, coming from down stairs growing lowder and impatient.

“I thought Dan and Daryl got that.” one man said, then the other, “What the hell are they doing up there?”

Daryl listens closely to every word shared below, with his eyes never leaving her, as if she would be goon if he did.

“Get them the hell up.” Joe ordered urgently.

Julia froze in fear as Daryl turned serious in contrast to her, hugging her pack in a death grip to keep her shaking hands at bay. Julia could feel herself becoming smaller, as if she couldn't follow along with what was happening.

The gears were turning behind his eyes, then Daryl nodded to himself, a decision had been made. And he said while keeping his voice down, yet firm.

“Hey, you see that clawset?”

Julia acknowledged it across the room, but no verbal response was made. It was difficult to register when dissociation began to wash over, preventing words from forming. But she forced it down when she could feel his hands grabbing her shoulders, groundingly, pulling her both figuratively and physically back to reality.

“You’re gonna stay in there, and you don’t come out until I say, okay?”

And Julia could not say anything in return, as if she was mute. But when she heard footsteps heading upstairs she could feel that twisting feeling in her gut she had felt in the car, finding herself spacing out once more, no longer looking up at him.

“Dan, Daryl, get your asses down here!” The man heading upstairs said, but of course got no answer in return. “Yo, you hear me?!”

“They’re not gonna come anywhere near you.” Daryl firmly told her, shaking her by her shoulders, “Look at me.” It was an order, an order that demanded attention. “They're ain’t gonna come anywhere near you. All you gotta do is stay put, stay quiet and don't come out until I say. Can you do that for me?

Julia stairs and stairs, pleading with her eyes for something -she didn’t know. It was about seconds before the man would enter and time was running out, she knew. But Julia didn't want to be without him, to be separated. But at the same time she knew it was something she had to do.

Even though she was scared, scared out of her mind she reletend. To do what he had asked of her. Julia trusted him with her life. Before she moved, to hide, Daryl’s hand cradled her face affectionately, as if he needed to touch her, to remind himself she was indeed there, what was at stake. His thumb moved, caressing her cheek gently as he provided, softly.

“Good girl."

If the situation had been different, Julia was sure she would have smiled in return.

Never had Julia seen the look Daryl had in his eyes as he had now. It was worrying, it went beyond protecting her, and it looked like he was -well like he was about to do something very terrible, and she knew there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

His touch didn't last long as he urged her to hide. When she was consumed by darkness in the safe space of the closet, Julia wished she had said something more than simply his name.

There was now way of telling how much time had passed.

The screams and the fight from down stairs had stopped and Julia wasn't sure she wanted to know what Daryl was doing, what he had done. Knowing Daryl could beat a man to death with his bare hands, Julia knew that was probably what had happened and it made her feel -well, she didn't really know.

The house was completely silent, it was unsettling in a way, not knowing if Daryl was alright, or hurt. Even though she had been told to stay put, she couldn't. The silence was too unnerving, making her leave the safe space of the closet, stepping out into the bedroom, cracking the door open, Daryl had closed when leaving.

“Daryl.” Julia called out, “Daryl, are you alright?”

Then there was movement down stairs, sounding as if something heavy was being dragged across the floor.

"Stay! Don’t come down here!”

His order made her flinch, he wasn't angry but it was clear he didn't want her coming down. Julia assumed it had something to do with the unmistakable dragging on the floor. Doing as she was told once more she stayed put, and she couldn't help but stare at the dead man on the floor. She was still coming down from what had happened, welding herself to get it together. Crying was not gonna make it better and she was no child, she was a grown woman, it was time she acted as such.

Drying the evidence of her face as she sits on the floor, Daryl emerges, wearing a different jacket and a red machete attached to his belt. And Julia couldn't help but stare as Dary was - well. Covered in blood.

Pt.5 Masterlist

[sadvid]

camp camp makes me insane ramble. do not click more unless you are so so very insane

camp camp is gonna make me go fucking insane i can't fucking do this anymore there is NOTHING!!!!!! NOTHING!!!! ALL THEY DID WAS GIVE US TINY PISS DRRROPLETS WITH ONE EPISODE FINALE SAYING MAXS PARENTS DONT CARE AND DAVID SAYING YOU DONT DESERVE THAT AND NOW IVE BEEN IN THE TRENCHES FOR YEAAAARSSS. i have read fics with over 100k words i have drawn so many things and imagined so many scenarios with angst and hurt/comfort and stupid stupid thoughts that would never ever happen in the show in a million years HIS ASS IS NOT GETTING ADOPTED DADVID IS NOT REAL GWENVID IS A SICK JOKE i love them so much you don't understand. i forgot to take my meds. oh my goddddd. THERE ARE LIKE THREE CAMP CAMP FANS LEFT BECAUSE THE REST WERE NORMAL PEOPLE WHO JUST WATCH THE SILLY CAMP CARTOON THAT SAYS FUCK. they dont wonder about the possibilities of a sad ten year old rejecting happiness but slowly allowing himself to be vulnerable and loved by a counselor who is surrounded by hate and despondency but stays positive despite despite despite because nobody else will and he wants to be the source of happiness that he wish someone was for him. NO! they say HAHA the ten year old said fuck! oh my god the non swearing counselor said fuck too that's so profound! oh no the ten year olds parents bad :( HAHA NOW HES BALD!!!! and after a month of the show being gone they LEAVE because they're NORNAL!!!!! but i. I AM IN THE TRENCHESSSSS. you have no idea you have no idea. listen maybe i'm just a little insane because i am a max who needs a david JUST MAYBE! and i think this is just a lot of me projecting my desperate need for love and my simultaneous rejection and fear of it onto max. And my need for someone to keep persistently and loudly loving me no matter how much i reject it. PROBABLY!!!!! i don't care i don't care how fucking insane i sound I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY I COULD talk about this show for hours i wish i didn't have job or school or life so i could write and anímate camp camp season 6 7 8 9 10 infinity and kill the warner brothers and write 500k word ao3 fics. IM INSANE. i am picking up crumbs and calling it a wedding cake do you understand. god i'm i i i i i i i i it's 2024 it's been too long too many years of this.... too many got damned years. every time i pick up a pencil i draw max camp camp. i have drawn david's stupid fucking face so many times its probably become the shape of my brain wrinkles. i go feral thinking about gwen's hair looks like down or what the fuck these characters last names are. Can you fucking believe i hyper fixated on a character whose last name i dont even know. hey who's that small angry fucker you're always doodling. uhh max. max who. max... camp camp. WHO?!!! DAVID?!!? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH?!?! MAX CAULFIELD?! i'm going to set myself on fire. i really truly am. i love them i live for nothing but a ghost child on an island and a silly friend trio. when will it end. when. i love them if you couldn't tell

[wooldamenace]

Better People- (Samily Until Dawn)

romantic tension, fluff, light angst, possible gay thoughts, over 1.2k words

The mines were wet and cold, too cold for Emily's liking. Right now she needed something warm, something comforting not these damned mines. Nor the puddles ruining her designer boots.

The mines would breathe with her the frigid air heaving as she inhaled. In and out in and out. She didn't want this, to be curled up in fear after all she went through.

She wanted to apologize. She really did. She didn't mean to slap Ashley, at least not that hard. All she could do was mouth a quiet ‘sorry’. Then she felt it, hands on her shoulders.

Samantha Giddings. Her hands were sudden, but never unwelcome. Emily couldn't bring herself to look into Sam's silver eyes. They were glaring at her pointing.

“Em? Are you okay?” Sam's voice cut through her thoughts.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

Emily can't even respond. What even is the logical reaction for something like this? Getting a fucking gun pointed at you like you were a criminal.

Sam's hands examined the bite mark on Emily's shoulder. It didn't look that bad now that everyone had their head screwed on right.

As Emily, Sam, Chris, and Ashley conversed around this barred up safe room of the mines the wind of the caves got colder. Emily felt a hand pressing to her cheek. Sam.

“Em? Okay, your temperature is normal.” She sighed quietly, “Chris, hand me the first aid kit.” Sam ordered the boy around, and before Emily knew it she was being patched up by Samantha.

“It doesn't look half bad I'd say.” Sam says, trying to lighten the mood as she always did.

Em couldn't stop, she couldn't stop the tears as she cried and apologized, Emily rarely cried. She only cried under two circumstances, she was alone, or she was hurt and alone, and right now she was just hurt.

“I'm, I'm sorry. Ashley I didn't mean t-to…”

She felt Sam wipe away her tears with her dri-fit hoodie. Emily couldn't only look at Sam through her tear glazed eyes, and Sam would keep wiping them. As Emily sniffles she tries to wipe her distraught away.

“Hey, hey don't wipe those, I don't want your jacket getting more ruined then it already is…” Sam said.

Everything was blue, maybe it was the tears, the possible frostbite, the shock finally setting in but everything to Emily was distorted, but no one could blame her, she had a gun shoved in her face by a man who not even a few hours ago was begging for Emily to get back together with him. Michael Munroe was an asshole, a stupid asshole who thought with his dick.

As Sam mentioned to go look for Mike, Emily followed her friend close behind begrudgingly. She didn't want him to die, but maybe they could have waited a bit longer. The group struggled behind Sam who was practically meant for climbing mountains and cave diving or whatever it was called. Emily had no idea how Sam was not wheezing for her life as she helped the injured Chris down ledges and up rocky walls with ease who was obviously heavier than her.

As Emily slipped, Sam had caught her. “Jeez, Em we gotta get you more shoes with actual traction on them.” Sam joked around a bit, causing Em to laugh. She hated Sam's stupidly cute quips, with how long she's known you she should've gotten used to it.

Sam's toned arms wrapped around Emily until she regained her balance. Jeez Louise, was Sam always this pretty? Samantha the girl who draws in the margins of her notes for fun? Little miss moral high ground? No, definitely not. It's the gratitude, the reaction of someone still attempting to be so level headed in a space of a massive fatal situation that's what's attractive, not Sam. No way. Not the way she barely breaks a sweat spelunking down these damned mines, maybe that's a little sexy, but anyone would find that sexy.

But Em has more things to worry about like if she was going to make it out alive, rather than the girl who's saved your life multiple times tonight is starting to look a little too attractive. It's definitely the cave fumes getting to her. All the old miner's dust and grime making her all woozy.

Em felt the water of the cave seep into her boots. Dammit those were expensive, and real cute too. Now the idea of trench foot was on the table? These boots were a lot, she saved up for them just for this little retreat, maybe to make herself look like she was doing great. Even though she wasn't, inside she was all jumbled up, scared, guilty, angry, and who knows what else.

“Sam?” Emily whispered as she walked along behind Sam while Ashley and Chris walked behind them.

“Yeah?”

“Are you not freezing?”

“Trust me, I am… these leggings are killing me.”

They duo stayed quiet, as if to be cautious of the creatures from the mines, listening for its long and quick strides, as it could teleport from place to place.

“Borrow my jacket.”

“Emily, no.”

“Sam-”

“I am fine. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

Sam stopped walking for a second as if she was frozen, stuck looking for an answer. She knew she wasn't okay. She came back to this mountain for one reason and one reason only, to get some fucking closure. Not this. Sam should be asleep in a bed, or relaxing in the Washington family lodge in front of the fireplace. In a perfect world, Sam would be sketching in her diary, while her friends played a drinking game.

“I don't know.”

“Listen, I'm sor-”

“I know, and so am I. We're shitty people. Makes me think this is just karma.”

“Sam,” Emily placed her hand on Samantha's shoulder, the usually neat blonde hair of Sam, getting a bit frizzy and messy. “If I could change the past. I would've.”

“So would most of us.”

“I know.” Sam shuddered due to the cold frigid air of the cave. “If we get back to the lodge safely, I'm gonna need a good sleep.” That comment caused Emily to genuinely laugh, the first one in a while.

“You know, you're funny sometimes Sam.”

“Sometimes? Ouch my ego.”

“You know what I mean. You ease the tension. You try your best to keep everything and everyone together. Makes me realize I shoulda been a better friend to you.” Em confesses quietly, as if she's been sitting on that for a hot minute, as if she held it on after this night she'd die with that in her.

“I should've been a better person to you too.”, Samantha says, holding Emily's hand in her own,“Maybe we can start to be better people?” Her voice breaking as if that's all she needed right now.

“I'd love to be a better person with you, and I guess the rest of our friends too.” Emily said, but mainly Sam. She had to make it up to her somehow. Emily was responsible for causing so much pain for Sam, Josh, the Washington family, everyone, and now it's time to get better.

“Don't say it like that, you wanna be a better person for all of us.” Sam said optimistically.

“Mhm yeah, sure.” Emily groaned lovingly as Sam hugged her.

“I can't wait to see the better person you become, Em…”, and that sentence was enough, it will always be enough.

Emily smiled, a real fucking smile. With tears running down her face, the liquid left trails as if it was burning her to cry.

“I'll be better. I swear.” Emily said as they continued walking. Even if they didn't make it out Sam could tell that Emily was going to be the best version of herself she could be.

Have a great day guys! xoxo - Wool

(This was part of my commissions I'm opening up soon! I'll be posting more info on that!)

[mothiepillie]

POV: You're a roach

"You've gotta be fucking kiddin'..." - The Thing, 1982

Mimic is a new OC of mine I wanted to post because I'm finally out of my art block for now. Also can you tell I'm into transformers now lmao. I started watching transformers prime earlier in 2024 and went down the transformers hyper fixation rabbit hole like a dumbass and I've been loving Megatron more and more. Surprise shawty, another villain crush. But I remembered I have the power of art and can make anything I want and made Mimic and her backstory. So it's stupid and cliche but I like it. I'm still thinking of making a comic about it but I'm so lazy and can't focus on making one page let alone a panel so it's a hard maybe.

Mimic, Conjunx of Megatron/ Queen of the decepticons. She had the ability of taking on the appearance of any other cybertronian and using their powers to her advantage. She could also manipulate any part of her own body to transform into weapons or jets, wheels you name it to get by. But in her original form she's quite weak and relies on her reflexes to dodge a strike. Her chest and legs are made of a flexible material to change color, shape and any material to accommodate for her various forms whether robot/vehicle, the rest of her is pure metal and circuits. Her voice can change as well so it could be quite uncanny even to her when she's hunting down her target. She's still getting used to her body as she isn't 100% cybertronian. Whether or not she's actually a threat or just someone for Megatron to squeeze is totally up for debate to the other decepticons/Autobots since Megatron barely lets her out in fear she could get hurt again.

Mimic used to be a young woman named Violet, a energetic, kind hearted girl that lived alone on a small farm. And there's the cliche, a giant alien robot crashes on her farm. Violet earns the trust of Megatron by repairing him even enough he threatened her multiple times he'll kill her afterwards. She was determined to make sure he was functional and would die trying if she fails. Violet becomes his pet among the Nemesis, yet overtime Violet became more than a pet to him. He protected her from the other cons that found out about her presence on the ship. She was severely injured by a stray Autobot blaster shot which Megatron was devastated. He had her remaining intact organs used to power her new body that was made up of dead Vehicons and whatever was left of Makeshift after his demise. Since Violet renamed herself Mimic, she's still trying hard to fit in even though she knows she's an abomination. She can't eat, barely sleeps because of nightmares, nor can she feel pain, only hot or cold or pleasure. Now that she was crowned queen, she's determined to lead her new army to either victory or peace with the Autobots, though she is protecting her own home world by keeping the fights away from other humans.

Just a couple things of Violet before she became Mimic. Violet's past is a bit weird but I'm still trying to figure it out. Making new OC lore is so hard, especially when they start out with the cringe stage of making them. Right now I'm trying to make her story work and not too lovey dovey robot/human romance even though it kinda is lol. I like a little bit of angst n drama. I'm still trying to make her work by not making her that one OP character that can beat Goku lmao. I just want to make a cool character idea without making her sound cringe 😭 anyways. Thank you for reading if you read everything. I don't post on here often because I don't draw often and don't have a lot of good drawings to post initially. Also yes, I use bases because I'm super bad at perspective.

[aoloquentazure]

I like Nightheart a lot. I think he's silly, and I genuinely think that the general idea behind Nightheart's family angst is interesting -- "main character is expected to have certain traits and he is upset because he can't." That said, I think the circumstances in which it occurred and its execution were pretty bad. I should be clear here in that this post is just my opinions and thoughts on what I'd like to read instead. I'm just hoping that all these segmented opinions don't conflict with each other.

First, there's the obvious: half the clan is related to him. Not much else needs to be said there. Everything I say after this point will be under the assumption that this is somehow magically fixed and all the background characters who don't need to be related to Firestar simply aren't. It's a lot more impactful this way.

Second, and arguably more important than the first point, there aren't any particular traits about Firestar that Nightheart is ever compared to or expected to have. Bravery, kindness, strength, charm, tact, etc. Even just being a hero, as unrealistic of an expectation as it is, would have been something. All the things that made Firestar who he was were simply never brought up. He was simply described as "great". Given that the only trait that got consistently brought up was as superficial as fur colour, there's no reason that the reader wouldn't interpret his whole issue as "not being orange", and there's no reason that the reader wouldn't take issue with it. I sure did.

My solution to that would be to simply point out exactly how he's not like Firestar. Point out how he's impulsive (and though that's expected for an apprentice, he's the basically age of a warrior when the arc starts, so I'm not quite sure how compelling that example in particular is. He should know better, after all), point out how he's impatient, point out how he can be unkind, or something. However, demonizing everyone to do that remains an issue. Clanmates could be involved, but I think a lot of the "work" involved to reaching these conclusions has to be achieved by Nightheart himself.

Third, Nightheart was being written like the whole world was actively out to get him. I didn't like that. A character should be allowed to feel bad about themselves without it feeling like the entire clan was in a hate campaign against him. (Many times, that's what it felt like while I was reading The Broken Code with Shadowsight. The circumstances are different, though, and I don't remember the plot details as clearly anymore, so I won't compare the two directly any further.)

My point is that the constant use of his clan simply telling him that he's wrong only for it to be instantly misinterpreted by him as them being mean got tiring to me, especially when you take his age into account. I think he should be allowed to be unreasonable and have self-esteem issues, given that he failed his assessment a few times, but I want Nightheart to sometimes realise that it's his own fault. "Maybe I was being stupid for trying such a risky move in my assessment. Firestar would have thought this through more..." Or "I shouldn't have said that (the way I did)." That kind of thing.

Moving on from there is kind of tricky, though, and that's where I struggle to come up with something *I* would like. For instance, I don't want to read a pityfest where Nightheart does nothing but put himself down. Likewise, I definitely don't want to read about how he keeps trying his bestest but keeps failing because the universe hates him. My mind draws a blank when it comes to figuring out a "solution" for that.

Coming back to how his family shouldn't constantly be misinterpreted by him to be malicious, I want Nightheart to have a better but still interesting relationship with his family. I want him to want to be close to Sparkpelt but not know how to do that. I want him to be jealous of the relationship Finchlight has with her while still loving them, and feel bad for not being close to Sparkpelt when he has the chance to. I just don't want them to fight :(.

I don't know how I'd handle the finer details, like the reactions that everyone will have when Bramblestar changes Nightheart's name, or the NightSun relationship, etc. I'm sure many of these events would play out differently, I just don't know how.

tl;dr Nightheart's story sucks because it does not build upon the premise that started it to begin with.

[deutoplasmic]

smug takeru will be the end of me like hes sOOOO happy even if you swear to never speak of the shack again it wont stop you two from. stealing a few kisses when no ones looking 😶 YOU HATE HIM THOUGH YOU SWEAR!!! even when he gives you,,, soft forehead kisses after you bicker,,, or he kisses your hand before saying goodbye IM SO GRRHRJDJDJDJD

PLSSS OMG MIMIKYU,,, yea fengfan’s fighting for his LIFE in his mind hes so down bad for you,,, you walk up to him with a phantump you just found like “phantump say hello to 凡凡 this is your new dad” and fengfan swears hes so red he’ll explode

HOLDING HANDS WITH RUKI PLSSS he tries to act calm but youll just see him avoiding eye contact and only looking your way to look at your hands touch and freak out again 😭 HES SUCH A CAT alolan meowth is so perfect for him omg

MASAYA’S HONEY SHOP,,, will literally give free honey to any lil kid or pokemon,,, and the full bottles are shaped like his partner teddiursa I NEED TO DRAW THIS I NEED TO DRAW ALL OF THEM

OMG AYUTA AS AN APPRENTICE 😭 and compared to junki his singing partners would be like,,, softer like chingling,,,, and junki is so happy with his growing family he gets everyone matching bowties,,, and ofc free poffins even for ayuta (who is. mildly confused but hes accepted that junki is a bit strange)

PLSSS KYO GETTING YOU ALL THE SOUVENIRS,, he kept the malasadas chilled with his new bergmite friend,,, you guys can have a meal in front of your house and catch up,,, man kyosuke looks so good in natural lighting with his hat off I MEAN WHAT-

SHO AND KOSHIN ARE SO CUTE LIKE,,, and koshin is definitely trying to set him up with someone like “you dont want someone who can look after the daycare with you for the rest of your life till death do you part? 🥺” and sho is like “ahahahaha i mean,,,” (hes worse at rizz than he looks)

omg taichi with a hitmontop,, or a sandslash,,, AND OMG RAN WITH A SCIZOR YOURE SO RIGHT!!!! SHE WOULD BE ALL TOUGH WITH ONE LIKE ALL THE STRONG COOL FEMALE GYM LEADERS,, i need to write this all down i have to draw all of lapone with pokemon now,,,

LMAO NOT KUMI BECOMING WANTED BY PROXY 😭 hes so confused the whole time,,, but it does feel nice when you pat his head after he pilots the ship well,,, and maybe thats all that matters

LMAODKDJDJ THANK YOU i think ill upload it after i send this ask in!! have no idea what the caption will be yet but. ill make smth up

and @ the tags,, i get you omg my friend was sociogramming and writing down f (friend) and a (acquaintance) next to people and i was like. does that mean fluff and angst LMAODJDKDHDKDJD THE BRAINROT

every time you guys k*ss you make sure to remind him after that he's still a stupid annoying ratbag or whatever but he KNWOS whats inside your heart!!!!!!!!!!! you cant hide from him forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you're never going to fully admit it but what's that he keeps coming over a lot? yeah nahhhh he just wants to bother you like the menace he is (mame is frantically updating jin he can't believe his eyes is it REAL)

god fengfan is 5 seconds away from combustion!!!!!!!!!! the 凡凡 will have him kicking his feet desperately when he thinks abotu it later that night... he even finds a lil pumpkaboo for you for the matchign duo and GOD he almost loses it when you smile at him and say youve got twins now!!!!!!!!!!! he thinks he deserves an award for not exploding whenever you talk to him but also he's so grateful for the privilege. so

YOURE SO RIGHT FOR THIS he prolly has super clammy hands.... cold sweat on his palms........... youre like ruki do you need to wipe your hand and hes like NOOOOOPE whilst subtly scrubbing them on his pant leg LOL... he gets so nervous that his meowth uses pay day bc coins calm it down and maybe it'll work for ruki too! but actually it just looks like his wallet exploded and dumped coins on the ground so he's dying from embarrassment whilst you just pick up all the money for him :rofl:

HONEY BOTTLES SHAPED LIKE TEDDIURSA YOUR BRAIN IS SO MASSIVE FOR THIS. SO MASSIVE. omg his table is made out of maple wood stained a cute yellow that like. his friend ayane made or smth. and its draped with a honeycomb patterned tablecloth keigo made............ all of his little samples are in small jars the size of like tealights which are wrapped with small squares of the tablecloth fabric and twine around it for security.....

YOURE SO RIGHT one day they go out to the meadow to sing bc junki declares it perfect cutiefly spotting weather. yes ayuta tells him that theyll probably get poked by them but junki doesnt comprehend that. and for some reason meloetta shows up??????????????????? both of them refuse to try catching it bc that would be such an injustice. but. wow. theyre dumbstruck. AND THE MATCHING BOWTIES ARE SOOOOOO CUTE its insane........ and yeah. ayuta has accepted his fate in silly goose club LOL

OH MY DAYS youre so right he pulls out some tropius fruit from his satchel to share with you........ and his eyes are so shiny and hair so pretty in the sun i mean wait what huhhhhhhh ALSO HIM HAVING A BERGMITE IS SO REAL oh my days .... he probably delivers smth to like fengfan at some point who also has a frigibax and it starts bickering with the bergmite LOL

koshin can be devious when he wants to be LOL but omg im such a supporter of the confident sho totally lost for words and confidence around his crush theory like . hes charismatically explaining smth to some of the trainers looking at his daycare with all his smooth charm and you waltz in and hes like uh um uh uh well uh sorry uh yeah um uh huh

taichi sandslash would be so CUTE omg wait he also has like. a minun who is such a cutie and keeps cheering for them.... which is severely boosting ken's ego LOL and yeah omg..... love ran............ she probably specialises in steel type pokemon and there are a bunch of klinks and bronzor hanging aroudn the entry. she's taking care of a shiny aron at the moment and it's due to evolve any time soon....!!!!!

YEAH omg he takes you to meet his mechanic buddy hiroto one time after you need to get some part replacements and hirotos like wow takumi they must be really worth it to change sides of the law and takumi. well. hes dazed life is so good

LMFAO FLUFF AND ANGST........... its consuming us all...............

[tea-the-not-understanding]

HAIIIIII WELCOME TO MY BLOG

Hello!! Welcome to all who somehow found my blog! You all can call me either [ Tea | Star | Mars ] I have many nicknames :] My pronounce are He/Him/They/Them. I'm literally 18+ old. Trans / Ace or Aerosexual and Bisexual.

So this blog is mostly me, posting my arts, oc and sometimes writing out my idea's on characters and making au's on characters. I also sometimes do animation/PMV and Roleplay with my mutuals. You can send me asks or roleplay with me too! I don't bite :)

Just don't be a little shit and follow simple rules I have here on my blog. Simple rules!

Me accept

Art trades ( I do love to do art trades but please do not go overboard with it. I don't want to kill my hands )

Collabs ( I like to share some ideas and do art collabs, etc.. )

Roleplay ( Roleplay is what I love to do but it have to be at least appropriate. no 18+ or NSFW because there's minors, but angst is allowed, Gore too. I do gore art lots so I don't see why roleplay should limited on this part. )

Suggestions ( You can suggest or give me idea what to draw. But for now, Cookie run fandoms, it can be others but I'll reconsidered about it. :3 )

You can send asks to asks about the characters that I am open in this blog. Please keep it appropriate.

Me no accept

Don't send me inappropriate photo's or request. This blog is me doing stupid art and stupid stuff. Not doing for your entertainment in negative ways.

Asks or Request me to draw NSFW. (There's minor in this blog, I know it. And if you want, it do not come in for free. )

Request to draw your oc/characters. ( I only do it for friends and mutual. If you really want, then considering commission me for it. )( And also, asking me to be your friend first and tell me to draw your oc will get you banned instantly. )

And finally, common sense thing that you must know. No Proshipper, Incest, Homophobic, Racial, Slurs, other bad shit, etc...

The tags you can search in my blog. Sometimes you can write cookie name since I write that in the tags too. But the main is

Update : just in case anybody interested. Here are commission information. If you are interested, just send me a message, said you saw this and I'll responded. If not then I'll block you, assumed you're one of those scammers. (But not right now, I'm dealing with scammers and school at the same time so the commission is closed at the moment.)

#cookierun

#cookierunoc

#oc

#sona

#shimp

#PMV

#Illustration

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Lucifer — I really hate your face

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4

CW: enemies to lovers, lucifer hates you lol (part 1), slight angst (part 3), he insults u in his mind multiple times (part 1)

Nuisance.

If there ever came a time Lucifer was asked to describe you, he would describe you as a nuisance. Another inconvenience to add to his already growing pile of problems.

The moment Lucifer found you snooping around the stairs leading to the attic and he had to threaten you to keep you away from it, he already knew you would be a more giant headache than he initially thought you to be—which was proven to be a fact when Beelzebub had revealed to him that you encouraged the orange-haired demon to hide a certain angel in your shared bedroom that time.

Lucifer wouldn't go so far as to say that he hates you, that's a word that he can't just throw around lightly, and he did genuinely feel bad for possibly traumatizing you when he attacked you that time, but he is in no way fond of you either.

In fact, a small part of him wishes Diavolo hadn't shown up then, wishes he could get rid of you one way or another, perhaps, make it seem like an accident. But alas, that can't be as it would be the Demon Prince's reputation that will be dragged through the mud if something were to happen to the human exchange student.

And so, Lucifer swallowed his complaints. In a way, this was also his fault for not thinking the selection through, it was his fault for just picking up a paper that flew away and deciding that this person would be their exchange student. He can't help but want to smack his past self upright in the head for being so careless.

The Avatar of Pride can look past your previous mistakes, and chooses to look past your previous mistakes, but now that you've involved his brothers in your scheme? He can't help but feel his blood boil at the thought.

Lucifer wasn't a soft-hearted demon by any means, but he was extremely loyal, and his loyalty lies with his brothers, whom—even though he doesn't show often—he loves more than anyone and anything in the three realms.

Now, he knows he can't exactly do anything to stop it as his brothers all have their own free will, but he doesn't like the idea of you, his newest headache, charming his brothers one by one into forming a pact with you. Your reasoning for this?

Apparently, you want to gain Lucifer's respect by proving yourself through making pacts with his brothers.

Upon finding out about this, Diavolo had stars in his eyes and a wide grin of amusement on his features, he let out a joyful laugh and gushed about how happy he was that you have found a goal to achieve during your stay in the Devildom.

Lucifer, however, calls bs on your so-called 'reasoning'.

If you truly wanted his respect, there are other ways to go about earning it without involving his brothers. A suggestion of his would be for you to stop poking your nose in other people's (or demons') business and be less of an annoyance than you already are. But to bring his brothers into this? He certainly doesn't have a good feeling about the whole thing (though, he also considers that this unsettling feeling may just be because he doesn't like you).

You know what? He changed his mind, Lucifer would go as far as to say that he hates you, despises you, even, and that he can't wait for this school year to be over for you to go back up from that dirt of a planet you came from and never show you stupid face to him ever again.

He's well aware that humans are capable of producing intelligent and cunning offspring—Solomon is an example of that—even so, he's also now aware that humans are capable of birthing fatuous beings such as yourself that he can't help but feel a bit bad for the feeble race.

The demon lets out a sigh, the muffled sound of laughter coming from outside of his office drawing his attention away from his paperwork and towards the direction of the noise. He scowls, he doesn't even need to exit to know that it's you spending time with his brothers once again.

He hates you.

He hates how you have his little brothers wrapped around your pretty little finger, that you can literally make them bow down to you, kneel in front of you and lick your shoes if you so wish. His anger brought on by these thoughts made him snap the pen that was in between his fingers and he lets out another sigh, his crimson eyes tracing the exploded ink on the paper, on the table, and on his pale fingers.

You're planning something. That much, Lucifer is sure of. You're planning something and he'll be damned if he doesn't figure it out and put a stop to it before you can go through with that stupid plan of yours.

And for the next few days, Lucifer suddenly started popping up in places you happen to be. In the classroom? He's suddenly seating behind you. Walking through the halls of RAD? He's passing by you while discussing important things with Diavolo. Playing games in Levi's room? Lucifer is suddenly barging in to remind Leviathan of his chores.

But you didn't think much of it. You did live under the same roof, after all, and went to the same school. You were always bound to cross paths with him more often than you'd like.

So it wasn't a surprise either when you heard him coughing behind you in the kitchen while you were looking in the fridge for something to snack on, your stomach grumbling after Beel ate your share of dinner (he thought it was Mammon's plate he was taking from and offered you his own plate when he saw the horrified look on your face at the little serving left for you)

"It's already past curfew, isn't it?" Lucifer spoke, and you swear there's poorly hidden malice lacing his words with suspicion, "What are you doing?"

"Ah!" you gasp in surprise at his appearance, turning to look at him while taking a step back from the fridge and closing it. You smile warily at him, waving your hand in front of your face in a swift motion.

"Nothing, nothing! I was just.." you tried to think of an excuse, but could only sigh in defeat when you realized you didn't have one. "I was hungry."

Lucifer hums in response, his eyes scanning you from head to toe as if he was looking for something.

"Would you like to join me for a midnight snack, then?" He offers, his gaze meeting yours as he gives you a smile.

His crimson gaze bores through you, staring right into your soul, and in contrast to the warm color of his eyes, he looks at you with such coldness that you had to suppress a shiver from going down your spine. His smile reminds you that of Satan's; fake, but extremely convincing, only much worse now that it's coming from the source material himself.

You tried to read through his emotions, tried to gauge out what he was planning, if he was mad to catch you outside of your room in such an ungodly hour. But as usual, Lucifer kept his cards close to his chest, with you being completely clueless as to what might be going on inside that mind of his. You've always been wary of interacting with the eldest—the way he usually knows of things that he shouldn't scares you, and you always feel naked under his intense gaze.

Crimson eyes gazing through you, through your thoughts, feelings, you feel like he can play you like a fiddle if he so wishes. Perhaps, that was just what it truly feels like to be face to face with the morning star himself. God's favorite son. The one courageous enough to lead a rebellion against his own father—his own creator.

"Surely you haven't fallen asleep while standing up, eyes widen open and staring at me, have you?" His mocking voice cuts through the silence in the kitchen, effectively pulling you out of your own thoughts and back to reality.

"Oh- uh.." You spoke, just to let him know that you are still here, still listening, still thinking his offer through.

It's not news to you that the eldest brother isn't fond of you, not at all. You've received his sharp glare one too many times, and he seems to lose his patience and temper more often when it comes to you making mistakes than he does with his brothers—sometimes, you feel like you're one wrong inhale away from being hung upside down just like Mammon.

That being said, it made you wary to know that the demon that hates you, who also happens to be one of the most powerful beings in this realm, is suddenly asking you to spend time with him. Just the two of you. Alone.

Your survival instinct is yelling at you not to, that you should just politely decline him and be on your merry way back to you room. Put this evening behind the both of you and act like it never happened in the morning.. but then, you remembered your mission. Your goal.

A demon locked me here.

You're the only one who can help me.

You let out an internal sigh at the reminder, swallowing your own fear and uncertainty before looking up, your eyes meeting Lucifer's as you spoke with utmost confidence, as if you aren't fearing for your life at the current moment.

"Sure," you responded, a smile stretching your lips, "I would love to."

"Excellent,"

Lucifer loved that too.

[saturnsorbits]

Born to Bail

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Angst, Smut, Squirting, Praise, Sero has a Jacobs Ladder. Word Count: 5.9k.

Summary: Sero has a reputation and you’re next on his list.

The gala is alive. Already you can see both Hero's and civilian's rubbing elbows, causing a gentle mix of small talk to echo just over the live band that plays in the corner of the hall. A shock of black draws your focus away from people watching and you smile instinctively at the sight of his signature grin digging deep lines into his cheeks.

'Have fun with the press?' Arching an eyebrow, you step forward letting Sero slip behind you and your small standing table. He plants a hand on your hip and grips the flesh gently before plucking the gin glass from your hand. You let him.

The dull clicks of his throat are loud, even over the music, but he doesn't stop swallowing until the glass is completely drained. He hands it back to you, slipping the stem between your fingers. It had taken almost an hour to shake the hoard of journalists outside of the venue and of course, you'd bailed as soon as you'd seen the news van, leaving him to grin and flirt with the reporters. 'Tonnes.'

'That reporter from Juzo News hit on you again?' You smirk, but don't turn to face him. 'Or maybe he asked to become one of your stupid, little tally marks.'

A wry smile catches the edge of his lip, his fingers pressing a little deeper into the flesh of your hip. His other hand comes up, tracing what can be seen of the inked lines just under his collarbone. He knows the rumours, it's hard to avoid them really, but he's never had the heart to tell the press that he doesn't add another mark for every person he charms into bed. 'Nah... Only special people get to be tattooed on me like that.'

'Every person you've ever fucked that special, huh?' You snort, rolling your eyes.

'Why you wanna join them?' He licks his teeth, resisting the urge to pull you gently back against him. It's no secret that he wants you. He's been playing his interest up for the better half of two years now, and you've still yet to bite. A fact that only makes him want you more.

'In your dreams.'

'Yeah, you are... But, the press asked about you, actually.'

Pursing your lips, you pull a breath in through your nose before peeling his hand away from your skin. 'Maybe they wouldn't ask so much if you'd stop giving them the wrong idea.' It's not a particularly new line of questioning. In fact, it's become pretty predictable. Sero Hanta is... Well, he gets around and everyone knows it. You're pretty sure you're the only friend he has that he hasn't fucked, but you've got no interest in becoming a front page headline for a semi-decent fuck. None of that is to say that he doesn't try it on though, and so, the press continue to ask their questions.

'Is it that bad?' He purrs, breathing lemonade over your shoulder as he steps closer, his hand coming back to your hip. 'That they think we're dating.'

'They don't think we're dating...' You huff, putting the glass down. 'They think we're fucking.'

'Okay... Is it so bad that they think that we're fucking, then?'

Rolling your eyes, you spin in his hold and hook your hands on his shoulders. 'I keep telling you that I can't handle a cheap shag.'

He laughs, licking at his bottom lip. This is familiar territory. He flirts, lays on the charm that has had many a person in his bed before and you... Well, you remain astute. You bat those pretty little eyelashes and smile and keep making his cock fucking hard without a care in the world. That is why he has to have you, to fuck you out of his system so he can stop this little game before it gets dangerous, before he's too caught up for flings and one-liners. 'And I keep telling you, that's exactly what you need.’

Patting the broad muscle of his chest, you curve your spine to gain some distance between you while remaining trapped by his arm. 'I need consistency.'

'I'm not saying it just has to happen once.'

A chuckle bubbles up your throat as you manage to wiggle from his hold. It's hard to pretend that his hand at your side doesn't burn, that it doesn't make something stir in your stomach, but you do, you always do. To entertain anything else would be treading a line that you're not sure either of you are equipped to walk.

Eyes lingering on yours, he pauses as if he's trying to read your mind and then, his hand is creeping up, up, up to the curve of your waist. He leans in, fanning hot breath across your cheeks. Can't you see how weak he is? How he could have any person in this room and yet, he's here, barking up your dress like a desperate lap dog. 'What do I have to do to change your mind?'

'You're relentless.' You breathe, licking at your lips as something changes in the air.

'Maybe I just think we'd be good together.'

Heart thundering in your chest, you try to swallow around the lump in your throat. There's something dark in his eyes that makes you take hold of him, wrapping your hands around his biceps. You search his face looking for something, the tell-tale twitch of his lip, a raised eyebrow, anything to tell you that this is just his absent flirting being taken a little too far. Whatever you're looking for, you don't find it.

'Tell me I'm wrong.' He smiles, grip tightening on your waist. It's the first time he's come on this strong, but if the slight widening of your eyes is anything to go by, he should have tried this a long time ago.

You swallow.

Drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, Sero lowers his voice pressing his chest to yours until he can whisper directly into your ear. 'I could make you cum so hard, for so long that you'll forget where you even are...'

Your breath jams in your throat, as a coil of molten lava pools in your stomach. Pushing back to look him in the eye, you frown. 'This isn't just you trying to tick me off some sort of list, is it?' Because if it is – I.

'What?'

'Don't pull that face...' You snap, hitting at his arm. 'You're acting like I don't know that you've fucked your way through the entire agency.'

His hand leaves your waist and comes up to knock against the underside of your chin. Something tightens in his chest. 'You're not some random side-kick.'

You lift your chin from his knuckle, removing the warmth that threatens to shake your resolve. 'Neither was Mina.'

'Last time I checked you're not Mina either.'

Looking him in the eye, you try and ignore the violent pulsing of blood that surges through your veins. You'd be a liar if you said you'd never thought about it, but the reality is a completely different beast to battle. You chew your lip, preparing to utter a soft 'no' at his shoes before slipping from his arms and retreating to the safe loneliness of your apartment. 'I -.'

'C'mon. When was the last time you let go....' He purrs. 'Just let me treat you right, Baby.’

You shudder, full bodied when his hand cups your cheek so he can speak straight at you. It's strange being on the receiving end of a pet-name you've seen him use on other women. You've seen even the most composed go weak at the knees at the way he curls his lips around that word and part of you is scared, because you know how this goes now. 'Only if you promise -.' It leaves your mouth on an unsure tongue. You're going to regret this.

There's a flash of something mischievous in his eye, but he loosens his grip on you to tilt his head and smile. 'I promise.'

You scowl, fixing him with a glare. 'Only if you promise you're not going to pull your usual bullshit.'

'My usual bullshit?' He flattens a palm over his chest, faking a gasp.

'We work together, Sero. If we do this, things can't be weird afterwards -.'

He shakes his head, cutting you off. 'I promise.' It's sincere this time, accompanied with the subtle shine of victory that echoes in his eyes.

Nodding, you work up the courage and press your hands to his chest, tip-toing to whisper soft into his ear. 'Treat me right then, Sero... Let's see if you live up to that reputation of yours.'

For a moment he stops breathing. His lungs seize and constrict, forcing a pleased sigh out of his mouth. 'You wanna get out of here?'

You bite your lip. 'Take me home.'

'Holy fuck.' He laughs, eyes swelling as he hauls another breath in through his nose. Excitement thrums through his veins as anticipation beings to swirl in his stomach. 'You're going to be the end of me, aren't you?'

Settling back to the flat of your feet, you offer him a smirk. 'Maybe.' You glance at your watch. You've already fulfilled your contract requirements. You've shown up, chatted mindlessly with the sponsors, shook too many hands; no-one would notice if you where to sneak out now. Cocking your head, you poke him hard in the shoulder. 'No squeezing my ass in front of the press when we get out.'

Pouting, he twists his wrist in your hand, lacing your fingers together and muttering out a quick: 'You're no fun.' before beginning to drag you through the crowd and out towards the inevitable blinding flashes of the journalist's cameras.

Sero slams you against the wall. His palms cradle your thighs, gripping and kneading at the fat where legs meets ass as he hikes you higher. A chuckle rumbles in the back of his throat when you squeal and cling to him, lacing your fingers behind his neck as your legs wrap his waist. He tastes like gin and smoke when you kiss him.

Pulling back just enough to speak, he pants into your mouth. 'Bedroom?'

His eyes are black. They swallow the light, making already dark iris' barely visible as he devours you with his stare. Things had moved quickly as soon as you'd stumbled over the threshold of your apartment, but you'd be lying if you said you had a problem with it. You'd made your mind up after all, there was no point in hesitancy now. 'Over there.'

It takes a little effort for him to make it down the hall, despite your added weight. He stumbles once, almost taking you both to the floor before your back is colliding with another door.

He's got you arching up into another kiss before you can speak, but as soon as he lets you breathe, you're pushing and forcing him back again. 'Wrong door...'

'Fuck.' Spinning on the balls of his feet, he turns, pressing you against the opposite door. 'This one?'

You reach down blindly, struggling to co-ordinate the swirling of your tongue in his mouth and the swatting of your hand at the door handle. 'Yeah – fuck... Yeah, that one.'

He wets his lips, smirking before kissing you again softer this time.

There's a zap of electricity in the air, a faint pause in-between lips, teeth and skin, but before you can read too much into it, your hand catches the door handle.

Grunting, he nips at your collarbone before crossing the threshold and throwing you down onto to bed. He comes down hard over you, caging you in with lithe arms that bracket your shoulders. Fuck, he was going to enjoy this.

You let your legs spread, allowing him to nestle between your thighs. The heat of his cock is heavy when it presses to your stomach, igniting a new wave of desire inside of you as your cunt begins to ache for him. Littering soft flesh with kisses that stretch from jaw to shoulder, you leave no patch of skin untouched on your quest to scour his body.

His head dips, a groan vibrating through his chest. Hands bunching in cotton sheets, he hauls in a shaky breath as his nose drags up the length of your neck. 'You don't know how long I've wanted this.'

It's hard to focus on his voice when he unlocks his jaw to suck at your throat. A violent wave of pleasure washes over you, forcing your eyes to roll backwards as you scramble to cling to him. You find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the rippling muscle and mapping out deep, red lines in the flesh beneath his shirt. If he minds the sudden pain radiating down his back, he doesn't tell you to stop. 'Sero... Ha – I.'

Sucking harder on your throat, he rolls his hips against yours, pressing his clothed cock against your dampening cunt. 'Sound so pretty calling my name, but... Call me Hanta, yeah?'

'Ha – Hanta.' You tilt your head, baring your neck before moaning directly into his ear.

A full body shiver rocks through him when your breath tickles his skin. Each of his kisses grows heavy until his lips are joined by his teeth. He bites down, encouraging you to bloom.

Your back arches up, pressing against the wall of muscle above you. 'I – fuck... Want -.'

'Yeah? Tell me what you want, baby.' His tongue laves over the bite.

A whine wiggles it's way up your throat when you feel him pull away and push up so he can peer down at you. Your clothes itch. The thin lace of your dress feels tight, constricting your thighs as you wriggle and try and press more of his skin to yours. 'Want you... Want you to -.'

He chuckles. 'Want me to what, baby?'

'Fuck me.' As soon as you speak his hands are on you again. There's a bruising grip at your hips as he bunches your dress at your waist and you lift from the bed, letting him strip you of it completely.

'Fuck, you're pretty.' Running a hand through his hair, he puffs out his cheeks and stares, unashamed of your nakedness beneath him.

Sat up on his haunches, he looks like a vision. It's not hard for you to see what the appeal is, not from this angle. His hair falls into his face, half obscuring the lust swimming in his eyes, but that doesn't stop your cunt drooling when you catch the lazy smirk tugging at his lip. Reaching for him, you run a finger down the creased front of his dress-shirt. The material is fine under your skin, silken as you pinch a button at his neck and pop it open, revealing a slice of toned chest. 'Take this off.'

'Say please.'

You don't even hesitate. 'Please.'

'Good girl.' It takes him two seconds to finish unbuttoning the shirt before it's peeled from his shoulders and cast away, discarded beside your dress on the floor. 'Like what you see?'

You nod and sit up, breath growing stale in your throat as your eyes roam over his chest. You've never really had time to truly appreciate his physic, but now, splayed out underneath him you have to take him all in. Licking your lips, you hook a hand over his shoulder and pull him to you.

He shuffles down your body, mapping out your skin with his tongue. He nips at the flesh, reaching for the mound of your breast. With a clean flick of his tongue, he causes your nipple to pebble and soon after, he latches onto it and sucks gently.

You cry out when his teeth bite down, your hands fisting in his hair as you clamp your knees around his hips conscious of how your cunt drools. 'Please.'

He pops off your nipple and grins. God he could listen to you all day. 'Use your words...'

'Need you.' Your attempts to push or pull at his scalp are thwarted. His shoulders are too broad, too strong for whatever pitiful force you can enact on him, but each attempt just brings a smile to his lips.

'Gonna taste you now, okay.' Slinking down your body, he cups your thighs and lifts them until they're seated atop his shoulders.

Your foot connects with the taught muscle of his back, your hands still tugging at his hair as he presses in and breathes against your clothed cunt.

He shivers when he catches a smell of your slick and licks a thick strip up the seat of your underwear before groaning into your cunt. 'Always knew you'd taste good.'

'Don't tease.' You wriggle your hips, inadvertently forcing his nose further into your cunt.

'But it's so fun.' Hooking a finger in the seat of your underwear, he pulls it aside giving him access to your sex.

His tongue works you open slowly. The sound is disturbing, wet and sloppy as he sucks your clit into his mouth and suckles against it. It makes you keen, makes your stomach tighten and your hips buck, forcing your cunt up and into his mouth. He snickers as your hands pull at his hair, almost ripping strands from his scalp as a moan floats from your mouth. Struggling to breathe, another moan breaks through your chest as he slowly adds his fingers into the mix. He slips them into you and ever so slightly curls them upwards. You jolt forward, lips parted as your eyes threaten to roll backwards, cunt gushing around his hand. He curls his fingers again, tongue lashing out at your clit and you curse as you feel a swell of something unbearable in your stomach.

Pulling away, his eyes flicker up to catch yours. He smirks against your cunt. 'Best you've ever had?'

There's an aching in your cunt that demands attention and you rock your hips back into his hand, begging for him to continue. He does. The moment his fingers begin to scissor in and out of you, stroking against the spongy roof of your cunt you can feel it building.

'Admit it.' He needs to hear you say it, needs to know that it's not just him loosing his mind.

You furrow your eyebrows, but quickly get the point when he digs the pads of his fingers into your G-spot making you thrash. 'Fuck. Yeah – the best... You're.' You babble, falling apart, unable to control the way your cunt spasms around his fingers as you feel your arousal drip down your thighs. He elongates your high effortlessly, controlling your body in a way that no-one ever has. You manage to gather yourself for long enough to peer down at him. A wetness coats your thighs and your almost mortified you've just squirted on his face until he begins to lap at your juices with abandon.

When he lifts his head this time, there's a sheen around his mouth and he licks his lips, collecting you from his skin before swallowing loudly.

The noise makes you jolt. Your thighs flex, clamping down around his ears. It's sinful how your body shakes, how something deep inside of you calls out to him desperate. 'Sorry – Sorry, I couldn't. Couldn't stop.'

'Baby.' He grins, groaning into your cunt one final time before crawling back up your body to fiddle with the belt on his pants. 'Do not apologise for that...' Leaning down, he presses his lips to yours, smirking against you.

He licks into your mouth, smearing your own sweetness against your tongue. Desire churns up in your stomach, already building again despite your first release. It overflows, making you dizzy.

'Fuck.' He rears back, wriggling from his pants. 'Condoms?'

You swallow as your eyes follow the deep curve of his hip and land on the impressive cock bobbing between his thighs. It's thicker than it is long, with a bulging vein pulsing along it's side and a halo of soft pubic hair surrounding the base, but that isn't what catches your eye. Running horizontally across the underside of the shaft is a pair of parallel piercings. The metal catches the light, glinting at you and making your mouth dry. 'Is that?'

'Exactly what you think it is...' He smirks, pulling his cock back by the head to give you a better look.

'Does it...' Your heart beats against your ribs as your eyes flicker from him to his cock and back again. 'Will it feel good.'

'You're about to find out.' He licks his lips. 'Which brings us back to... Condoms?'

'Birth control...' Your mouth drops open when his cock twitches at your words and you're almost sure you're salivating from the sight of it alone.

Reaching down, he takes himself in hand and gives himself a few cursory pumps, spreading pearled pre-cum down his shaft. It coats the metal of the ball bearings, making them shine brighter. 'You telling me you want me raw?'

'Do you usually -?'

'Wrap it? Sure.' He shrugs, somehow still shouldering his casual demeanour despite being kneeled between your legs actively stroking himself.

'Oh...' Something heavy deposits itself in your stomach. You wonder if you'll still be able to feel the drag of those piercings while wrapped in latex.

'But for you... I don't mind. You want it, baby girl?'

You moan. You can't help it. The idea of being stuffed full makes your heart splutter in your chest and your cunt throb. The need burning in your stomach cracks your voice. 'Please.'

It takes everything inside of him to stay composed. You're too good, too pretty and willing – his cock pulses. Settling on the mattress, he wraps his hand around your waist and pulls. 'Since you asked so nicely...' There's a smirk pulling at his lip when he flips you over and hauls your ass up, forcing your front end to the mattress. Running a hand over the plush curve of your ass, he lands one firm slap against the fat before he's lining himself up and pushing in.

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out clean, forcing your body to submit to his. Gripping at the sheets, you chew at your lip trying to lock a scream away in your throat as he sets up a brutal pace, brushing against something exquisite inside of you with each thrust. The metal of his piercing rubs at your walls, massaging you gently as he drags himself out only to force you to feel him again a moment later. It's a strange sensation, but not at all an unwelcome one.

'Don't hold back, baby.' He lets his hands slip up your sides and keeps you up, perching your on his pelvis as he continues to rail you into abandon. One arm bars your shoulders, the other crossing your chest to wrap around your neck. He holds you there, presses you close to his chest and growls in your ear letting you hear just how good your little cunt is squeezing him. 'Shit. Feel too good, baby. Gonna make me – shit -.' He's cunt drunk and loosing his grip quickly.

'P – please... Want it... H – Hanta.'

It's pathetic. Usually, he lasts longer than this, but the tension of your cunt and the sounds of your moans send him hurtling to the edge. With his thrusts growing sloppy, his hand abandons your neck to toy with your clit. 'I – shit...'

You whine, shaking and cutting him off as you cum again, hard. Your cunt flutters around his cock, milking him for all he's worth as you feel a sudden warmth spread inside of you. It's unreal how he feels filling you, coating your insides with ropes of sticky white, but you're not allowed to bask in the afterglow for long. You can feel his breath on your neck as his hips stutter, forcing more cum into your abused cunt.

'Told you...' Rumbling, he jerks one final time before stilling. 'Told you we'd be amazing together.' A soft kiss is placed against the nape of your neck as he collapses beside you, his cock slipping free.

His cum dribbles from your cunt, soaking your sheets, but your limbs are too weak to care. You roll, tucking yourself into his side. 'We should clean up...'

'Mmm.' He mumbles, face squished against the pillow. Lifting an arm, he runs his fingers down the length of your side, eliciting a trail of goose bumps in his wake. His fingers brush against your hip before sinking down to tap against your clit and spoon back his seed back into your cunt. 'You look good when you're full of me.'

You groan, head tapping against his shoulder. 'You don't usually cum inside your little conquests then?'

He shifts, removing his fingers from your cunt only to slip them into his mouth. 'No.'

'Oh.' You swallow, eyes blowing out as you watch him lick his fingers clean and grin.

Settling down, he rolls onto his back, opening his arms to invite you to come lie on his chest. As soon as you shift into place, he wraps you up yanking at the blanket at the bottom of the bed to cover both of your legs. Slipping his hand under it, he grips the flesh over your hip again and kneads at it. 'You want me to stay over?' The question shocks him as much as it shocks you.

His chest is warm, the gentle lift and fall a soft comfort as you listen to the beating of his heart as it bangs against his ribs. 'I take it you don't usually do that, either?'

'Nope.' The 'P' pops in his mouth. If he was in anyone else's bed, he'd already be half-way through putting his pants back on by now. Fuck, he might even be out the door heading home to collapse into the warm of his own bed. So why does he not want to move?

Your arm crosses over him, reaching up to trace the stems of the inked flowers that spill onto his pec. Beside them, just below the ledge of his collarbone is a tally of two etched into his skin in a stark black. Your fingers leave the flowers, journeying across to them. 'What do these mean?'

Sucking at his lip, he knocks his cheek against your crown. 'You know what they mean...'

You roll your eyes, propping your chin on his chest to glare at him. 'No, I know what the press think they mean, but there's not enough of them for that.'

'You tryna say I'm a whore?' He cocks an eyebrow before flicking out his leg and dislodging the cover that had partially covered his body.

'Even if you weren't...' Your drag a fingertip across each line. 'You've definitely fucked more than two people. I should tell that little reporter from Juzo – he'll be devastated when he finds out there's not more.'

Releasing you for a moment, he holds his hands up, palms facing the ceiling in surrender. 'Okay. You got me, it's not some weird way for me to log how many people I've slept with.'

You mumble, 'Figured. What is it then?' You look up again just in time to see a smile break his features, only this one you've never seen before. It's softer, coupling with the tenderness hiding behind the black of his iris'. It makes your stomach flutter.

'You're gonna laugh.'

'I'm not.'

'You will.'

'I won't.'

'It's cheesy.' Huffing out a breath, he has to remind himself to control his breathing. This is, fuck, this is almost domestic. Him laying in your bed, you on his chest bullying him playfully for information he's pretending he doesn't want to surrender. He's supposed to be fucking you out of his system, not falling in love with you.

'So?' You pinch his nipple making him squirm. 'Tell me.'

'Oh, fuck. Okay.' He jolts, hand covering his pec from further attacks. 'It's how many people I've been in love with.'

Your mouth drops open instantly, your gut clenching a little with how willing he had been to answer. 'Yeah, you're right. That is cheesy.'

'Better or worse than it being my body count?'

Pausing, you tug your lip between your teeth. 'Better.'

He glances down, catching your eye just as you look up. Air sticks in his chest making him cough. 'You didn't say if you wanted me to stay or not...

'Who?'

'What?' Your eyes have dropped his, freed him from whatever magnetic hold he's discovering you have on him.

'The marks, who are they?' Part of you isn't sure you want to know, but there's a burning in your chest that makes you ask anyway.

Tongue touching his soft palette, he thinks for a moment. He could refuse to tell you. He's refused to tell people before. A quick, no can do and he could have done with it, shutting down this weird pillow-talk that makes his chest feel too tight. 'This one.' He points to the first of the lines, the one closest to you. It never really was an option, he realises, not telling you. He'd tell you anything. 'Is Denki.'

'Yeah?' Snuggling in tighter, you press your cheek to his shoulder and nuzzle at him.

'I fell hard back in school. Then, he got with Shinso – so that was rough.' His fingers move across his own skin, poking at the second mark. There's something cathartic about this, something that feels as if he's cracked open his own ribs to let you peak inside. What's stranger is that for some reason, he's completely okay with it. He wants to do it more. 'This one is Nemuri.'

You cock your head. 'Nemuri?'

'Midnight.'

'Fuck off.' Shooting up off his shoulder you fold your arms over his chest and come down onto him again. 'You – you and...'

'I was a side-kick when it happened, calm down.' He smiles at the memory. 'Anyone that tells you they're not into older women is lying. She, she helped me learn a lot of things about myself. Helped me get over a lot of stuff too.'

You huff. 'Yeah, bet she did.' Pouting you let your chin come down on his chest, digging into the muscle.

His arms come around you to play against your spine. The pads of his fingers drag along your skin as your weight makes him relax into the mattress. 'And now you know.'

'Yeah -,' You're interrupted by a yawn. It takes over your jaw, forcing you to stretch wide before a sudden tiredness pulls at your joints. 'Yeah, I guess I do, huh?'

'You're tired...'

A thumb brushes your cheek and you press into the touch. 'Am I?'

'You should sleep...'

Something drops in your stomach when you feel him wriggle under you. It had been nice, this, basking in him, but then you knew what you where signing up for didn't you. Of course, he wasn't going to actually stay. 'Yeah...' Slipping off his chest, you swing your legs under you, pushing yourself up into a half-kneel. 'Yeah.'

His eyebrows knit on his forehead. 'Where you going?' Without you on his chest, he's twisted falling onto his side on the mattress. He pats it twice.

'You're staying?' You try not to look too keen when he nods, patting the mattress in front of him again.

'If you'll have me...' He grins. He really doesn't want to be kicked out of your bed, not now.

You bite back a smile before moving, letting your body melt into his as you slot into his side and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. Something stutters in your chest as the unknown stretches out in front of you, but for now your body is too tired to care. 'Can't kick you out now anyway, the press'll get the wrong idea.'

He snorts. You're not wrong, he does have a reputation after all. 'They already think we're fucking...'

'Let's not confirm it then.' You mumble into his skin, already sinking into his warmth. ‘Get breakfast with me tomorrow?'

Humming, he presses a kiss to your crown. 'Sleep now, yeah?'

'Mmm.' It's almost too easy to fall asleep in his arms, to lose yourself to the scent of gin and sweat as it clings to his skin. You wonder how many others have fallen asleep basking in him like this, only to wake alone and cold, missing the strong arms that had wrapped around them. If you had any luck you'd never find out.

Sero wakes up at 12:05am to a surge of notifications on his phone. A few are from past hook-ups, streams of angry emoji's and garbled curse words flash on his screen as he scrolls, searching for something of more importance. He finds it when he stumbles across a news article. He's no stranger to being featured on the front page of Juzo news, but it's the first time it's ever taken him off guard. Underneath a large, bold headline speculating about his love life is a picture. It's of the two of you, still decked out to the nines as you leave the gala. Your arm is wrapped around his as he escorts you down the stone steps of the city-hall, your eyes trained on your feet watching careful as you navigate your way in too-tall heels. Beside you, clinging weakly to the back of your waist he looks like he's won the lottery. There's a shine in his eyes, something deeper hidden in the smile smeared across his face as he looks at you, unable to tear himself away. He looks smitten, fuck, to the untrained eye he looks head over heels in love.

The thought dries out his mouth and makes his fingers itch. He's never been here before, never had second thoughts about upping and leaving and yet, he still finds himself pausing. Jostling, he slips his arm out from under you and sits up, perching on the edge of the bed. Instinct makes him stand, makes him stretch to the ceiling and sends him rummaging for his clothes. He slips into his pants, focusing more on buckling his belt than the hammering in his chest.

Steeling himself he glances back, letting his eyes roam over you as you sleep. You're curled up, laying on your side with the sheets clenched in a fist. A pout creases your lips, a natural down-turning of your mouth that begs to be kissed and fuck, does he wish he could. Committing your image to memory, he swallows still trying to ignore the hiccuping of his heart and turns towards the door.

There's a dull ache in his thighs and a sweetness on his tongue when he pulls the door shut and slinks out of your apartment. Part of him knows he's making the wrong decision, that he should drink a glass of water, strip off and sink back to your mattress making some half-hearted excuse about needing to piss, but he doesn't. He's not ready for that. He's not ready for any of this. Not yet. So he leaves, he bails like he always does and hopes – prays – that you don't hate him for it.

Three weeks later, there's a new headline gracing the front of Juzo news. It reads: Another Notch in his Belt: Sero Hanta adds to Mysertious Tally Mark Tattoo.

-> Masterlist

[k4g3hika]

Hi I just wanted to say I think that your writing is magnificent and it brings me so much joy on that note I was wondering if you could do a eddie x reader where eddie has a crush on the reader and people like the basketball team or cheerleaders keep embarrassing him infront of reader so he gets completely humiliated and gos and hides somewhere to cry (you can choose the place) and reader finds him and comforts him and you can tie it all together with a confession or not but I trust you

Sorry if that made no sense or sounds stupid and you can completely ignore this idea if you want to thank you for your time 😊

FREAK'S GOT A STARING PROBLEM ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie cannot stop looking at you. not for anything bad! he just thought that you are the most beautiful thing to walk on earth. but will his habit bring fortune or conflict for him? it's terrible that this freak's got a staring problem.

genre: a bit of angst? / fluff

wc: 1. 98k

note/warning: a bit of bullying and lots of curse words lol. and major tw!jason. mfs scary. also, i'm not entirely proud of this one, but i hope you enjoy!

Eddie thought that you were the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth. 

Sure, his magazines had some hot chicks in them, and frequently he would see the occasional actress in the movies that he would watch, but you? You seemed to beat all of them so easily with both your personality and beauty. 

It physically pained him to have this teeny-tiny crush on you. In the few classes the both of you shared together, Eddie always caught himself looking your way. He didn’t know what overcame him to possess his eyes to draw to you, but he knew the reasons could’ve been either your radiating smile or possibly, that bright light that seemed to be behind you. 

Though he frequently stared at you, however, Eddie Munson was not a perv. He could never look at you in that light, well- 

‘No.’ Eddie stops himself. He will not let his mind be dragged to that point. You were an angel graced by God, how the fuck can he even think of you in such a dirty way?

Eddie groans, finally hearing the ringing of the school bell, notifying Hawkins High that it was finally lunch. He heard the class go by around him but didn’t start packing until most of them had left. Sometimes, Eddie imagined what his life would’ve been like if he was in your high school posse. 

Athlete, cut hair, spent most of his time in training or parties. Easily having the prettiest girl in his arms. And of course, for that position, it would be you.  

Fortunately, life was kind to Eddie. Instead, he was playing one of the most brilliant games ever created, with the best people around him. He would prefer that, over throwing a ball around for an hour. With that thought, he would have to deal with the ridicules that frequented him, and most importantly, holding his feelings and looking at you from a metre away. It was fine. He could live like this. 

Eddie’s ears are infiltrated with noise as he walks through the cafeteria doors, seeing that several students have already received their lunch. He began to make his way to the lunch line, expecting to receive the most lacklustre, unappetizing meal of the day. 

After receiving a certain look from the lunch lady, Eddie mutters a ‘thanks’ and looks around to see his friends sitting at the usual table. They seem to already be deep in conversation, making Eddie feel a bit inferior because of his absence. He hopes it isn’t too important, because of course, as the leader of Hellfire, Eddie had to be there for every complaint and recommendation. 

But first, a small stop past the table he dreaded the most. 

No, Eddie wasn’t going to actually stop and talk to anyone at that table, shit, that was blasphemous at whoever cared. All he’s going to do is walk by, and catch a small, small glimpse at you. Hopefully today you were either smiling or laughing because if he was being honest, those expressions look beautiful on you. 

As he walks past, he sees you giggling a bit behind your hands, making him fail to notice how his stride begins to slow. Eddie is entranced by your laugh and smile, feeling as though a higher power somewhat blessed him today. 

Unfortunately, the devil seemed to curse him as well, seeing as he captured the attention of the prick sitting at the head of the table. 

At first, Jason was going to say something, either ‘get out of here freak’ or whatever. Until, he looks at where Eddie’s gaze was caught, tracing it back to you. An alarm goes off in his head. 

“Hey, freak!” Eddie’s head snaps to Jason, who slams his hands down on the table and stands up. Eddie’s heart begins to race. 

‘Shit!’ He thought he was being so slick! 

“You fuckin’ need somethin’?” Jason starts to make his way to him. 

“No Jason-”

“Then why are you looking at Y/N? Got a starin’ problem you need help taking care of?” The blond jams his finger into Eddie’s chest, prompting him to almost drop the lunch tray in his hands. Eddie steadies himself, almost losing his temper at the bullshit Jason was trying to pull. 

In the corner of his eye, he can see that your head was turned to him, making him a bit nervous under your gaze. 

“Listen, Jason, I don’t want anything to happen. I was just walking by.”

‘Yup, yup. Keep your cool. Gotta look swift for her.’

“Yeah Jason, he doesn’t want anything to happen,”

‘God fuck! Why do his goons have to get involved?!’

The basketball player, whom Eddie remembers to be Andy, laughs under his breath, “he doesn’t want anything to happen, to interrupt his serial killer plans. He’s probably planning to kill our whole fucking table just to be with Y/N. What a fucking creep.”

“Yeah, we hit the jackpot? Is that what you want to do? Order your little cult to kidnap Y/N so you could use her in your cult sacrifices?” The cafeteria gets silent at the statements of Jason and Andy. Eddie’s face feels warm, not because he was particularly embarrassed, but because of his anger. 

He just wanted to look at you is all, what’s wrong with that?!

“Hey Jason-” Eddie hears a soft voice,

“No. We need to fucking expose this freak before he terrorizes Hawkins. Shit, maybe tomorrow night we might just see that club of his dancing around a fire. That’s what you do Eddie? Dance around the fire like a couple of pussy bitches?”

“Why don’t you fucking push your head up Andy’s ass Jason. You’re being a fucking prick.” Eddie sneers at Jason. Of course, Jason expected this kind of reaction from him, prompting him to threateningly step closer. 

“Yeah, you freak-”

“Jason, I fuckin’ said, shut,” he pushes the cafeteria tray into his chest, “the fuck, up!” Eddie turns his tray over, knocking some potato mixture onto Jason’s varsity jacket. The cafeteria gasps, but before Jason could give him some kind of comeback, Eddie leaves the room. Not forgetting to give him the middle finger before he made his exit. 

Slightly turning around, Eddie still makes the effort to look for you, catching your shocked face switching between him and Jason. 

“Get back here you freak!” The door shuts behind him. 

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Eddie runs through the school, trying to find an empty classroom he could hide in for the time being. He definitely didn’t want to get caught by Jason and his goblins. 

He wasn’t prepared for whatever they were gonna give him. 

“Eddie?” His heart stops. Eddie hears a voice in the hallway, not wanting to turn around and witness his murderer. 

‘FUCK.’ Pushing open the door right next to him, he finds it to be the restroom. Not sure if it was girls or boys, but regardless, he didn’t care. Eddie rushes into the last stall, pulling close the door and sitting on the toilet seat, pushing his legs up to hide from whoever was looking for him. 

The door swings open. 

‘SHIT! Ozzy, please, I’m begging you. Please save me from whatever they’re gonna do to me, I’ll listen to Black Sabbath extra hard tonight. I promise!’ 

Eddie rocks back and forth, biting onto his rings to stop his heavy breathing. Slow footsteps echo throughout the small room, before finally stopping in front of him. 

‘Well. Praying didn’t do shit. Ozzy! You bi-’

“Eddie? It’s me, Y/N.” His heart stops, again.

‘Oh no. You’re probably here to fucking expose him. Jason is gonna come in here in any second-’

“I know, you probably don’t want to talk to me. But I’m not gonna call for Jason or any of his groupies. If it helps you, Chrissy is trying her best to calm him down…and I think that she’s doing an okay job.” Silence ensues. “Eddie? I just want to talk to you.”

His heart hurts. Why does your voice have to sound so pretty as well? 

Eddie puts his feet down. Slowly unlocking the door, he pulls it towards him and faces you. 

‘Shit, so pretty.’ Earlier, when he said that there seemed to be a light radiating behind you, he didn’t mean literally. But now? 

The lights above the restroom mirrors flicker a little, but still manage to enhance your beauty. Eddie almost crumbles to the ground, but instead just keeps his gaze locked onto your eyes…trying not to look anywhere else. 

“May I help you?” Shit, that sounded rude.

“Hey! Um, I just wanted to talk about what Jason was saying earlier. I’m sorry about whatever he said, y’know, about Hellfire and you.”

‘Fuck! She knows about Hellfire?!’

“Yeah…it’s not okay. I mean, he’s a fucking child so I don’t really care. The fact that you’re apologizing for him says a lot.” You sigh, rocking back and forth. 

“Well, our varsity basketball captain has a massive stick up his ass, so…I’m here. Apologizing for him because he is, like you said, a fucking child.” Eddie laughs a bit and you join him as well. He didn’t really expect you to criticise Jason like that, especially since the both of you ran in the same social circle. “Um, but that isn’t really what I came to talk to you about Eddie.”

‘Oh shit.’ This was it. The moment when you were going to ask him to stop looking at you. 

“About what Jason was saying…were you really looking at me or was Jason just imagining things?” Eddie swallows his spit. He really was debating on whether or not he should tell you the truth. 

“Well, um, uh,” fuck it, “yeah. I was looking at you. I just think that you…you know, are- shit.” He wipes his eyes with his hands to avoid looking at you. For some reason, you were getting too fucking bright. 

“No! Eddie, um…” you grab his hands from his face, surprising him a bit, “I think, I think I like you looking at me.” Eddie pauses, internally screaming.

‘...what?’

“I mean! I like you looking at me, as in, you know, I like that you take the time out of your day! I appreciate it! I also notice too in class, you looking at me, cause I look at you too- fuck! I mean, sorry, shit…I think your tattoos are cool!” You blurt that all out, shaking his hands as you spoke to him. You didn’t seem to notice that you were moving his hands along with yours, but he didn’t mind it. 

“You think my tattoos are cool?” Your eyes widen. 

“Of course! Who doesn’t? I love the bat one it’s so metal. I want to get a tattoo for my eighteenth, but I’m not sure what to get!” Eddie goes through some more pausing. 

‘Did you just say ‘metal’?’

“Did you just say metal?” Eddie repeats, standing up from the toilet, and you finally realize that his hands were in yours. Frantically pulling them away at the realization, Eddie immediately grabs them back. 

He was not getting rid of this opportunity!

“I did…? Did it sound right? I just started listening to metal, so I hope it’s okay to use the term.” His smile grows wider on his face. 

“Yes, yes you did say it right.” You smile right back and Eddie was starting to gain his confidence. “Listen, if you need any help coming up with ideas for a tattoo…I could always help you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, totally.” His thumbs rub your hands, 

‘Way to go Eddie!’

“Then,” you step closer to him, “can I request that you also be there when I get it? Y’know, to comfort me and what not.”

‘Ozzy? Praying to you has got to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’

“Just give me the time and place sweetheart.”

TAGS:

@crunchcake @buckwbarnz @bookobsessedfreak

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Hi! Uhh... How do you think Nathan would be like when he realizes he's in love with you BUT you're totally oblivious about it? And to make the matter worse, you're crushing HARD on that cute guy he's brought in a few times because of... Err... Research assistance and Nathan's just... Losing his shit?!

Maybe perhaps if you could like write an HC...??

Lotsalove!! ♥

Warnings: V light angst, fluff

You're not stupid, so you must be playing dumb.

Right?

Nathan's never met anyone whose intelligence he regards as highly as yours.

So all of those 'subtle' sidelong looks—

All of those brushed-off dinner invitations—

All of those wide-eyed, fascinated replies to the research associate's invitations—

They must be for show.

It's entirely within the bounds. That's the problem.

Maybe you're acutely aware of the associate's interest, and not of Nathan's.

Maybe you're more interested in him, and not in Nathan.

Hypothetically, that's a possibility.

Logically, it's a statistical improbability.

Damon is incredibly useful to Nathan.

A research assistant, he frees up the time that Nathan would typically devote to research.

But he's also someone that you seem to actively be interested in spending time with—

Working, dining, camping, hiking—you name it, and Damon's doing it, you're there.

They're things that Nathan has been doing, but haven't resulted in the same level of your interest.

He could fire Damon.

Ohhhhh, he's thought about it.

But weighing his interest in you, your seeming interest in Damon, and the amount of work Damon takes off of Nathan's plate, it's just not economical.

So he keeps Damon on, and he keeps his goddamn mouth shut when you make fucking goo-goo eyes at his senior Research Associate.

Maybe he hasn't been clear?

Maybe Nathan's been too subtle.

That seems unlikely, considering the fucking hoopla that's he's thrown for your birthdays and work anniversaries.

You get flustered then, too.

You go quiet and nervous when Nathan heaps interest on you.

When Damon does, you make a big show of it.

When Nathan does, you seem to brush it off.

So when this year's work anniversary rolls around, Nathan makes little of it.

It's vindicating to see you confused.

During the morning briefing, Nathan feels the odd gaze thrown toward him. He doesn't answer to it.

When you ask Nathan if there's anything else he wants to cover anything else in status, and he says no, he's vindicated by the brief confusion and disappointment that flickers across your expression.

He gives Damon a task that'll last him the next 36 hours.

And midway through the day, Nathan invites you to dinner.

When you turn up, Nathan is further vindicated and softened by the way your expression cheers and warms.

You're both talkative and bashful throughout the evening, drawing back now and again, as you seem to remember who you're with.

As the the two of you settle in for an after-dinner drink—

"Should I have invited Damon?" Nathan asks.

You shrug, leaning back in your seat. "He's nice."

"Nice?" Nathan repeats. "What about him is nice?"

"I dunno, he's just...He's personable."

"I'm not?"

"Do you want me to answer that truthfully?"

Nathan smiles at your question. You both fully aware of his answer.

"Anyway," You add. "It's...Nice to spend some time with you. I didn't think you liked to spend time with me anymore."

Nathan's brow furrows.

"Why would you think that?" He asks.

"You were inviting Damon to, like, everything. I thought you were adding a buffer."

"I wasn't buffering."

"Whatever, Nate."

"I wasn't!"

You don't answer, just raise your glass to your lips.

Nathan sets his glass side, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

This is a bad idea. His hackles are raised by the way you freeze, fingers stiff in his grip.

"I've only ever wanted alone time with you," He admits. "None of the bullshit babysitting duties with Damon."

"Those were half of my duties when he got signed on."

Nathan lowers his eyes to your joined hands, thumb absently swiping across your knuckles.

"I can loosen up next time," He offers.

"Wasn't so bad," You admit. "Now I know how I am in a mentor relationship."

Mentor. It makes Nathan's ears prick up.

"...Mentees don't get invited to anniversary dinners," He warns.

Before you can answer, Nathan gets up, scooching his seat around to rest beside yours.

He seems to go bashful beside you, even as you duck your head, fingers smoothing over the stem of your champagne glass.

"...So,"You mumble, "What do you have planned for my next anniversary dinner?"

Nathan leans, lips brushing your cheek. "I've got a few ideas."

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Tits are amazing

Masterlist- oneshots

Summary: sy and his men are protective of the groups first bundle of joy and his mama and dont take to kindly to mom shaming in public.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic violence, angst, fluff, cheeky Sy, pregnancy, swearing, anxiety, feminism?, breast feeding, protective Sy, inaccurate biology?, mansplaining boobs, men being men, bit of a crack fic im just having some fun, threatening to shoot someone with a boob.

A/n: this was goingnto be somthing completely different. I ,ay have gone ptt with the back story but idc im pleased with hos this tirned out in the end.

You looked around nervously as you rocked your bundle in your arms trying to quiet down the tiny cries that were sure to draw attention if they got any louder. Fear ran throught you as you realised you were out of bottles and will have to do something youd tried to avoid at all costs.

You shuddered anxiously eyes flicking around you. It wouldnt be too bad you hoped. It wasnt that packed here, just a few regulars at the bar. Besides you were with a large group of huge muscle bound soldiers and theire girlfriends and wives. No one would be stupid enough to start somthing would they?

"Babe? Babe are you alright? Whats wrong with him? Another nappy change? Wind again? He is a windy little man want me to take him?" The deep voice from next to yoh hummed, your captains beard ticling your skin as he looked over your shoulder peering down at the fussy bundle you were cradling.

"I... no sy he... he is just hungry thats all" you said quietly looking to him with a small nervous smile. Your breath hitching like it did everytime you looked at him. He was a saint in your book. You wanst one to belive in divine intervention but when it came to him? Yeah you could call him your mirical or silver lining. He'd not only given you the life and love youd always craved but became a father to your son. Accepted a little boy that wasn't his own and protected him as any father would.

Youd been in a relationship with one of his men. It wasnt the best not because of the distance either, you knew what to expect you were a military brat yourself your own dad being in the special forces. But Josh had... issues. He drank when he was home, nothing too unusual most soldiers let loose when they came home and had one too many.

But he also suffered from mental health issues, night terrors mood swings bouts of anger and that coupled with the drink? Well lets just say it wasnt just his mood that started swinging. He'd hit you occasionally, slaps mainly, shoving and pushing somtimes a kick when you were down. The others had no idea and Josh made sure to keep it that way he could get into some deep shit with superiors if they found out, and you were too embarrassed to tell anyone. You made sure to come across as confident and tough, one of the lads when out with the others and their other halves. So you rolled with it like an idiot keeping quiet to protect him kidding yourself itd get better, it had to right?

Wrong. Dead wrong, the month long leave only left him with more time to drink, each binge worse then the last, each slap harder then the last. Though each time there was a get together he managed to be sober and his 'happy go lucky' self. But even then you were flinching at his every move. Then reality hit in the form of two tiny lines. Pregnant. Youd been both thrilled and devestated. You could not do this with him, no way could you stay with him when your so vulnerable.

So when he was out with the guys for another long celebration of someones birthday you decided to leave. You'd planned everything packed your bags and were loading them into the car when he was brought home by sy.

You remember the gut wrenching feeling, the fear as the captains big blue truck pulled into the drive behind you. Before you could even shut the trunk of the car josh was out of the truck thundering towards you drunk and absolutly steaming with embarassed anger.

Sy had followed quickly to try and talk his man down but he froze for a second watching as one of his best men- someone he trusted with his life began screaming at a defenceless woman before striking her as hard as he could, knocking her off her feet.

Youd screamed and quickly curled int a ball trying to protect your stomach at all costs and josh began to lay into you screaming about how he owned you and your going to regret embarassing him. All you did was shout begging him to stop because you were pregnant, hopeing itd calm him down but the news had to opposite affect and he lost it because you were 'stealing his baby'

Sy couldnt believe his eyes it was your admission to being pregant that snapped him out of it and sy pounced. He saw red and flew at Josh with a speed a man his size shouldn't be capable of. With a single nose crunching punch Josh was down and disoriented trying to get up. You quivered on the floor in shock sobbing trying to get up and scramble away only for your knees to quiver and give out. Sy managed to hoist you up quickly ushering you to sit in the passenger seat of his truck and gave you the keys telling you to lock it.

Sy beat the ever living shit out of Josh then and there knocking him unconsious within a few moments. Then pulled out his phone calling who you could only assume were his higher ups or the police explaining what happened. Then began grabbing your bags from your car walking to the bed of his truck placing them under the cover.

You moved quickly unlocking the truck and staggered out to find out what he was doing. Only to be stopped with a thick finger pointing at you to get back in the truck.

"No ma'am you get back in that truck, im getting you outta here, we're going to the medical bay on the barracks to get you checked over then you can stay with me. Nowhere will be safer i promise" he said walking to and from from your car collecting your things and securing them in the truck.

Sy kept his promise.He was on medical leave much to his distaste had an op on his back and shoulder, and was undergoing extensive physio therapy. Steroid injections, painkillers and rehabilitation to get movement back in his shoulder, he'd most likely need another op but they were trying to avoid that.

Even through his own problems he managed to look after you catering to your every need. You'd intended to stay long enough to get money for rent but as the weeks rolled into months you and sy hit it off before you knew it you were an item and leaving wasnt something either of you wanted but only time could tell. Josh wasnt to pleased, he came around more then once after his reprimand and few weeks in the barracks cells. But sy wouldnt let him near you whatsoever.

After youd informed sy you didnt want Josh to have anything to do with you or your baby the bear of a man had relayed the message and made it clear that Josh will have nothing to do with you or the baby. He also informed your ex that you were the captains girl now and he would 'force feed him every single one of his teeth' if Josh so much as looked in your direction again. The last you heard Josh had been deployed again.

Before you could really get your head around how things had changed you were at your own gender reveal with you and sy popping little blue party poppers with the rest of sy's team a few days before they were flying out again. It had been that moment sy had asked you what you wanted. You'd paused frowning not sure what he meant and then his hand drifted to your rounded tummy. 'Every boy needs a dad, i'd be honoured if ya stayed, let me raise the little tike with ya our own family it'd be nice having a proper wife and kid waiting for me back home' youd stood there frozen and in shock trying to process what sy had said. then once the penny dropped you instanly burst out crying nodding to him. You'd only been dating sy for three months but you'd known sy for well over a year. And you knew without a doubt that he would be an amazing dad to your son.

Your hormones had kicked up silly fears about the baby being a problem in the long run. But in that very moment you knew it never would be. Sy saw the little one as his own and that had only intensified as your pregnancy progressed, youd been introduced to his parents who had welcomed you with open arms and were excited for their first grandbaby despite knowing there was no blood relation.q

Sy was more then you could ever hope for in a partner. He held your hand through everything, every scan, every scare the first kick, craving to the final aches and pains. He even convinced Josh to sign away paternal rights before he left. Your not sure how, you didnt ask but you were greatful. Then the big day came, and sy was all over you like a bad rash, he couldnt do enough for you as you moved through the slow labour. Guarding the door when you waddled in and out of the loo as your waters trickled away. Calling the midwives back every hour on the hour to check your progress 'just incase they forgot' luckily the woman found it incredibly cute especially when everything they said was followed up with 'your sure?'

When it came time to push he had been a wreck, freaking out enough for the both of you to the point you'd offered him the gas and air between your contractions to chill him the fuck out. The daft bastard had been stupid enough to accept, muttering a small 'thanks babe' whilst stealing the pipe sucking on it like a straw only to get a slap upside the head when he forgot to hold your hand as another contraction came over you and you were pushing again. He quickly got the message when your hand wandered down to squeeze something else.

Then as the pain peeked it went and your son was born all seven pounds of him. Sy almost fell over as he saw the boy, the sight of tiny red baby being placed on your chest had reduced him to tears. He sobbed his heart out curling around the two of you the midwife had struggled to pull sy away from you both to cut the cord. She had to help him hold and cut because he couldnt see a damn thing through his tears.

Hours later you were being wheeled out of the hospital with Theodore Syverson. Thats right, Sy had given the boy his own name. The nurse had flicked her eyes to you in question clearly asking if that was okay given that they knew sy wasnt the actual father. But sy had waved her of 'dont be looking to check with her, she'll be shareing the name soon enough. Now ya want me to spell it out for ya?' He said casually making you flush and giggle nodding as the nurse quickly began writing the name as sy spelled it out for her.

All of this led you here. Sitting down for a meal at you local pub celebrating not only his mens safe return but sy's full recovery. And in six weeks he was returning to duty with them. Theo was now three weeks old and doing well, quickly growing into his features and so far looked nothing like his sperm doner thank god! All of sy's team had inspected the bundle with approving nods, cooing over their nephew, it was sweet watching these big burly mens men terrified of holding him but Theo was the first baby of the group, so you could let it slide.

Whilst the men were introduced to 'little man' the women inspected the rock on your new wedding ring. Sy didn’t mess around, you both decided you werent going to be one of those long engagement couples and had eloped as soon as you could walk without wincing. You may not have had a wedding night to speak of, but sy promised the wildest of night of your lifes once you recovered... or days? Pretty much when ever little Theo gave you a few solid hours alone.

Some may say yoh wernt truly married if you didnt have sex, but they were normally ths oneswho said only virgins wear white, you shouldn't live together or have a baby before your wedding either. So fuck them.

"Well feed him then" sy said a little cluelessly with a frown not understanding what the problem was. You sighed again and flicked your eyes around you once more.

"Yeah i will, excuse me" you said and began to stand ready to make your way into the toilets to feed the squirming hungry baby.

"Whoa bug? Where ya going?" Sy said placing his hands on your hips and tugged you to sit in his lap curling a thick arm around you and Theo. The others stopped and looked on wondering what was up.

"To the ladies room, i can sit with him in there and feed-" you began trying to explain softly beginning to flush as everyone watched you.

"What why? Just feed him out here" sy asked moving to place a soothing hand on Theos head calming him a little, the boy always settled for his father, some secret voodoo shit that sy could pull off and you hadn't quite figured out yet.

"Sy i... i didnt manage to pump enough bottles, he had his last one so i cant just feed him here"

"Why not we're all drinking aint we?never to young to start drinking with the team~" the others cheered raising their glasses laughing betweennthem. Sy grinned nodding to them and then turned to you eyeing you expectantly.

"I cant just flop a tit out. It could offend someone" you said slowly trying to explain the problem. You'd seen all sorts of embarassing stories online when you'd been readingnup on breast feeding. You were scared of being confronted.

"Fuck em. It wont do no harm, they'd soon complain if he sceamed the place down" sy said with a shrug and pressed a sweet kiss to your shoulder resting hos chin on it and peered down at his son.

"I should probably just..." you said tryongnto wriggle free from your husbands lap but he held strong keeping you right where you were.

"Im here babe, i wont let no one bug ya" he humed softly. His friends turned looking on with huge grins enjoying seeing their boisterous captain get all loved up with you. You met his gaze and instantly melted, relaxing into his lap and smiled before giving him a tiny nod. Ou trusted him to protect you, and it made his heart soar. His eyes flicked to the men watchingnhim casually so he was quicl to smirk at you and then shrugged to before speaking.

"Besides the only tit they're gonna see is that little hat i got 'im"

"Oh god sy no" you moaned watchingnhimwriggle his brows and hoist up the diaperbag to the bench seat next to him. You frowned praying he hadn't packed the hat again, youd removed it four times before you left!

"Sy yes, here guys check this out~" sy said laughing as his hand doved int to diaper bag to pull out the crochet tit beanie hat complete with protruding dusty pink nipple on the top. You shrunk as your man held it up for the others to see. They was a moment of silence before they all burst out laughing with cries of 'put it on him'. Sy chuckled quickly moved plucking the cute little teddy bear beanie and replacing it with the novelty hat tugging the nipple to the crown of your poor sons head.

The table came to life, roaring with laughter at your unsuspecting little Theo who wriggled about in your arms looking like a tit. Litterally.

"Sy its cruel, stop laughting at him" you chided but didn't make a move to take the hat form Theo's head it was a little funny. Poor little bugger.

"Its funny babe, i cant help it. Go on just feed him no one here minds" you sighed looking down at Theo whose mouth was open head moving from left to right as he searched your his dinner.

You gulped and moved tugging your top down. Sys hand shot out covering you from the others as your maternity bra was unclipped and you held Theo closer. Within seconds the whinning stopped and he was feeing greedily.

You sighed relaxing somewhat as the aching began to sooth. Sy kept a hand on your chest above your othef breast soothing you.

"Lucky little bugger, aint ya? Hmm you dont even know how lucky you are, your mama almost tore my head off last night for trying to get a sneaky mouth full of tit~ and here you are in broad daylight have a cheeky nibble" Sy said moving down pressing a quick kiss onto his sons head. You tutted turning to give the man a stern look as the others all chuckled into their beers trying not to catch your eye now that you had the 'mom glare' sy just smirked winking and blowing you a kiss. You growled rolling your eyes and looked back down to Theo whos tiny fist had come up beside his face resting on your boob sweetly rubbing his own cheek.

"What? Its true" Sy defended with a shit eating grin. Referring to the way youd almost yanked his geard off his face when he'd dived for you tender boobs last night mouth wide open. Youd not meant to tug soo hard. Youd panicked thinking he was going to bite the swollen mound, then panicked even more when the thought of accidentally squirting milk at him crossed your mind.

"Theyre sore i dont want you playing with em" you offered weakly trying to justify your recent boob privilege withdrawl.

"I can soothe em if ya let me~" sy hummed before making you giggle flushing when he pressed an open mouthed kiss to your neck.

"Not a chance cap." You mused managingnto curl an arm aroundmyou and Theo pressing sy away.

"Why not? Come on babe share i neeed them"

"No Theo needs them. you just wana get all kinky and stick your dick between them"

"Can ya blame me? Look at those puppies!" Sy said chuckling making you flush a deeper red and shake your head as the others laughed once more.

Then a hush fell over the table as a stern older man approached the table. You could practically smell the self righteousness on him wafting across the few feet that seperated you.

"Hi er excuse me? Sorry to intterupt. Hello i was wondering if you could tell your ladyy freind to cover herself, im here with my granddaughter and she doesnt need to see that" suddenly you felt as if the entire world had just collapsed around you and quickly looked down ashamed, shrinking into sy before quickly sheilding Theo.

"Oh my god im so sorry I didnt mean to make you-" your voice cracked as humiliation washed over you; you wanted to cry you could alredy feel the tears welling. Just as quickly as youd relaxed you were ready to blot again, you tried to break free from sy. But your bear was having none of it instead he held you closer and cut your unnecessary apology with a deep threatening voice.

"And by that you mean the perfeclty natural sight of my wifes incredible body providing a healthy balanced meal for my newborn son?" Sy asked straight up, no messing around. No beating around the bush. You didnt get the feeling he was genuinely asking, it felt more like he wanted to clarify before deleting the fools life subscription.

"Besides your granddaughters old enough to know what my wifes doing, shes what seventeen? Shes got a pair herself" Terry said nodding to the teenager that looked around sixteen. You looked to the posturing male a few seats down smileing greatfully as the man backed you up pretty quick crossing his arms making his ams buldge in the tight tshirt.

"Thats not the point, your wife has her boob out, its indecent!" The man tried again, once again bypassing you and speaking to your husband because your husband owned you and could order you about apparently.

"Whats indecent it you tryn'a shame a mother feeding her kid fuck wad" Mikey the youngest addition to Sy's unit piped up with a severe look. At twenty three he still had a cute puppy look about him. He always wseemed happy and eager, this was the first time you'd seen him scowl. It was unsettling.

"Its offensive seeing a breast out in public" the man argued not getting the message that these men can and will rip him a new one if it came to that. God you hoped it didnt come to that, they'd muller him.

"Your fucking face is offensive but im not leaning over your table bitching at you" martin snarled slamming hos beer down seething. Theo jumped at the sound whining as he continued to nurse. You quickly soothed him rubbing his back cooing softly cpaming both you and your son.

"And coming over here to demand i order my wife to do somthing, the fuck are you from?" Sy's low gravely tone rumbled through you as his hand moved across your thigh, drawing slow patterns on your denim covered leg keeping you calm.

"Yeah the fifties called they want their misogynistic sexism back" Terry huffed drawing a laugh from the others. The man sneered and made to reply but was interuppted by Mikey again.

"What kind of man dont enjoy a bit of free side boob?" He pondered making the others chuckle again. He sent you a quick look smiling, clearly tryingnto check in and make sure you didnt mind the joke. You gave a tiny nervous smile back which made him relax, just in time to hear Timmy's imput on the subject.

"I'd have thought a man your age would thank his lucky stars seeing a little side boob i mean come on man as far as side boobs go that is a fine titty- sorry cap" Timmy piped up, wavingnhis beer in the mans direction. the man stood at the table quickly growing flustered. But the others didnt care, it would seem the guys were going to make fun of this man untill he walked away. Which was fine by you, youd rather the, bully him away rather then beat him up, which was entirely possible.

"None taken, but watch yourself there Timmy thats my wife your talking about" Sy grumbled with anskmirk still staring donw the man who hovered slowly becoming enraged as the others co tinued to laugh at him.

"Sorry captain, sorry Mrs Sy" you grinned at Timmy with a small nod letting him know you hadn't taken offence. How could you? He said you have nice side boob.

"Old geezers propbly worried he'd have a heart attack if he got a glimps of decent tit when our little dude if finished." Your quiet giggle was drowned out by the table erupting into loud gruff laughter, some of the guys slapping the table. comments of 'I can think of worse ways to go' were follower by cheeres of 'here here' and the clinking of beer glasses.

You sat still looking back down to your son tears welling in your eyes. It was humbling to learn that Sy's team would stand up for you with something like this. Despite being friends with them all duringnyour previous relationship you'd worried they would reject you after the whole Josh thing. You thought they would think you baby trapped Sy, that they thought ill of you and Theo. But you were wrong. So soo wrong, they had your back. They were family just like Sy had said.

Sy felt the way yoh trembled and held yoh closer pressing a lare hand to your tummy and kissed your neck. He knew, he didnt have to see the tears to know you finally realised those silly fears were just that. Silly. You moved your hand to Theos cheek, rocking him frome side to side as he continued to nurse. He wont be feedjng much longer, probably drift off to sleep soon.

"Shes got her whole breast out!" The man seethed placingnhis hands on his hips still heckljng you. You hand it to him he was brave to still stand there and bitch when you clearly had more back up then he was capble of handling.

"But its mostly covered ya know by the baby shes feedin'" Sy growled beginning to loose his own temper.

"I saw a nipple-"

"No no man, thats just a cool hat" mikey interrupted quickly senseing that Sy was running out of patience and would start swinging if they didnt do something.

"Dude crazy gone so long with out proper tiddy he thinks its real" Terry added clapping his hands whilst eyeing Sy carefully. Sy's lips quirked but nothing more. It wasnt looking good for grandpa.

"Poor sod, heres five bucks go to the strip joint on third, and treat yourself ask fo chanel hers are real swear to god" Timmy said sliding a few dolla bills across the table to th old man. Sy did release a gruff chuckle at that. Especially when the man flushed bright red at the thought of going to one of those clubs.

"I'd just feel more comfortable if she didnt do that here" this bloke just didnt know when to quit. But luckily Sy was of a mind to shut him down.

"Look fuck off man shes feeding my kid not grinding the table or fucking moterboating someone! Leave her be" you couldnt help feeling that was the final warning this old coot was goingnto get, you prayed he was goingnto take the hint and leave because god knows what your husbands next move was going to be. But alas the man didnt seem to have and self awareness, or self preservation instinct as he tried again.

"But im-" Sy cut the man off with a low growl finally snapping, all mirth gone from his face his hand that had been tracing patterns on your tummy snapped up and encompassed your unoccupied breast.

Before you could even yelp in suprize your husband was holding it gently pointing the covered globe threatningly at the old man who'd disturbed your nice get together.

"I'm warning you now asshole, shes got two loaded mama super soakers and if you dont walk away right now imma fucking take this one out its holster and fire number two. Considering Im a special forces captain of the fucking military whose a pro with a fucking sniper I'm betting my aims pretty good. So the chances of me hitting you right in your fucking sleazy eyeball and blinding your old wrinkled ass with tit milk are good. So I suggest you go and sit down drink your stupid girly mojito or what ever the hell that prissy drink is and leave my wife alone. Because if I do have to shoot you with a tit I'm be following it with a punch for peeking at my wife like a peeping tom. Now whats it gonna be?" You froze gaping as you tried to get your head around what Sy had just threatened someone with.

Sy held steady hand still aiming your boob in the assholes direction. He stuttered and teetered on his feet. Turning to look back at his granddaughter, then back at Sy almost trying to weigh up if your husband was serious. Sy must have looked deadly serious because after a few more seconds the man was turning tail and scuttling away from the table.

"Yeah thats what I thought grandpa keep on walking" Sy growled slowly releasing the hold he had on your weapon of mass soaking. Leaving it with a small pat before lettingnhis hand glide over you restingnin your lap again, his other hand picking up his beer taking a deep drink.

"Did... did you just threaten to shoot him with my tit?" You asked confused as to what the fuck just happened. You know what you felt and what you heard but it just wasnt computing. You just couldn't wrap your head around it.

"Yeah sort of" he shrugged scratching his beard, a nervous tick he had when he thought you were mad at him. You wanst mad, you foundmit all a bit surreal and funny.

"You do know thats assault" you mused saying the first thing that came to your mind. Becuase for the life of you; you just didnt know what to say, this wasnt in the pregnancy books- no where did you read an article of 'what to do if your husband holds a karen/keith at tit point' you were a little out of your depth with this one.

"Really?" He asked leaning around you confused nose scrunched up and brows furrowed cutely.

"Yes sy" he paused for a second thinking before lighting up and grinning a lopsided grin.

"Wait does it really spurt out? Like a little water gun, I was just bluffing I didnt know if it can or not" he said excited by the new information. Sy had a thing about learning new things about your body during the pregnancy, he had one of those apps that told him everything that was going on week by week, he still had it now telling him all about Thoes development.

" well yeah i mean not all the time but its happened once or twice a littl psst acros the kitchen- but wait that is notthe point! you can't just squeeze aim and fire my milk at people!" Your stammering reply quickly became a stern scolding. But it went in one ear and out the other as Sy beamed tuckingnhis face into your neck pressing kisses and laughing.

"Fuck me so you got a couple of milk guns on your chest? That is amazing babe im definitely squeezing these triggers tonight... do they like build up pressure?" He carried on now fascinated by the prospect of 'milk guns' you rilled your ees as his mind seem to fixate of your boobs and not the fact that he had almost used one to assault someone.

"What? Like a a pump action rifle or somthing? No well kinda? I dont bloody know sy! And your not playing with them, they're not toys" you asked frowning before turning it around

"You know whilst we are on the topic of boobs i was err- i always wondered when your, well you know feeding do you leak everytime your bra's off cos of the hole?"

"Im sorry Mikey but what the actual fuck?" You were gobsmacked. How did these men survive out in the warzones when they couldnt even grasp si,ple biology. It was scarey to think that Mikey was capble of making kids. Becasue he really shouldn't.

"You know the hole or does the bra sort of patch it." Mikey elaborated with a flush and shrugged peering into his drink trying to avoid eye contact. But you noticed none of the men were laughing, in fact they all seemed to be waiting for an answer. It was only the woman who were giggling behind their hands. You turned lookingnto Sy amazed that he hadnt already corrected Mikey, he took you loom as a signal to explain.

"Yeah its like a puncture on a tire, slap something over it and it stops. Isnt that rigt babe?" Out of everythingnyou anticipated coming out of your husbands mouth that had not been it. You frowned at him confused. What the fuck? Didnt he know? All that research for the pregnancy and birth and he hadnt come across the mechanics of breastfeeding.

"Jesus christ, no! No my body just... leaks occasionally, normally when it knows he's hungry and even more when hes nurseing" you said still shocked from the ignorance of the men. You knew men wernt experts ofn this sort of thin but you'd expected more.

"Oh well fuck me thats even more awsome! Tits are fucking great, they know when im horny, they know when he's hungry, they feed him and make him happy, they jiggle and make me happy. Hell can they do other cool shit to?" You slumped rolling your eyes as he once again too, what you said out of context, probably becuase hes a man. A man that cant think straight when it comes to boob, specifically yours.

"They do not know when your horny Sy! Shut up" you flushed quickly realiseing this topic was going down hill fast.

"Sure they do, I get a stiffy then they do too!" He anouced like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it was scientific fact your boobs were connected to his cock.

"Oh my god sy stop! Thats not- its not you" you huffed at him embarassed qwilling him to just drop it, but he wont. He was stubborn, bu this point yohwasnt sure if he was just teasing or not, surely he knew your nipples got hard because you were turned on, not because he had a stiffy and let off pheromones or something.

"Course it is, i mean it cant be a coincidence" nope. He was serious, dead serious. You would have laughed had you not been so shocked.

"Its ugh god, guys explain to the man will you" you tried gettingnyourself out of the hot seat. But the men just blinked looking to one another then Timmy looked back to yoh with a shrug.

" err... we dont know either"

"I never even noticed but now you mention it..." Mikey said under his breath wincing, the boy was thinking too hard again.

"Seriously? You seriously dont know? It happens when we women get ya'know horny" you finally explained to the group. Out of everything you thought was gojngnto happen today teaching biology to a group of fully grown soldiers was not one of them.

"Oh. Tits are amazing~" the Silence that fell over the table was broken by Terry with a loud cry.

"To tits!" Terry praised lifting his glass, the others followed suit raiseing their own drinks in a toast to boobs. You shrunk into sy shakjngnyour head. They were a bunch of dumbasses, handsome burly gruff dumbasses. The idle chatter then began again makingnyou melt into Sy.

"Thats really is a cool hat tho" someone said over the table, you didnt know who as you'd turned to Thoe who was now fast asleep. You grinned smoothing a hand over his back glad he was finally settled enough to have a nap.

"Yeah i know right, thinking i might get me'self one" Sy answered grinning l pinching the small woolen nipple still protruding from your sons head with a chuckle.

"Fuck yeah lets all get tit hats!"

"How much are they?"

"Hang on let me check" sy said, and just like that he was picking up his phone to search where he'd got the little boob beanie checking to see if he could get them in adult sizes.

"Oh fuck me" you muttered under your breath, you knew without a doubt Sy was goingnto find and buy him and his team boob hats. Its just how he was.

"Sorry love fuck request denied we got another ten days, twelve hours, fourteen mineuts and six seconds to go atleast, before the doc says i can take you to pound town" sy grunted into your ear nipping at it harshly makingnyou flush and pout, quickly shutting up because anythingnyou say will make it worse. The others smirked at their captains teasing, it was about time Sy had his own family to fawn over, and they were greatful it was you their captain had chosen to stick with.