#and I’m glad she always took it in stride and gently turned him down

[lordhymn]

Thinking I might start posting my sketches so I can actually keep drawing consistently. I also think doing this with no expectation or care for the amount of notes I get is healthy for keeping me doing this. Enjoy!

[jasmines-library]

Anonymous said:

Live for your writing <3 I’ve read the batfam and I am quite literally obsessed

Could I ask for a piece about the batboys comforting batsis reader because she had/is having a panic attack? thank you so much!!! :D

Fight or Flight

Note: Hello lovely anon! I'm so glad you like my writing. You absolutely can, I hope you enjoy. Also I’m so sorry but I lost the original ask as my tumblr was acting up and I forgot to add tags the first time.

Warnings: Panic attacks, hurt/comfort kinda.

Word Count: 1k (short but sweet)

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

You had been feeling off all week. Not only was it Gotham’s busiest time of the year, which meant that you were constantly on your feet, but you also had a bunch of unfinished assignments to catch up on that were wearing you out. You had stupidly agreed to help Cass finish her assignments on top of your own and the load was becoming overbearing. On top of that, you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you couldn’t do them, which completely added to your stress level as it now meant you had to find the time to finish all of the paperwork.

You were still feeling overwhelmed as you suited up for patrol. You were out with your four brothers and you knew that the night would be busy. Gotham always was this time of year. The five of you had already stopped a few petty crimes and were making your way through the city. The silence that fell over the five of you allowed your mind to wander and you quickly became worked up over your increasingly large to-do-list and you began to hyperventilate. You just wanted to leave, but you knew you couldn’t. Conflicted, your heart began to beat faster and faster and your breathing got shallow and shallower like someone was cutting off your supply and-

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest was rising and falling in quick, sharp breaths as you tried to take in air that refused to come. Ridden with panic your body was completely tense as you fell behind your brothers, stopping in your tracks to clutch as your constricting chest. Trying to blink away the flood of tears that just fell heavier, you leaned against the wall. This only made you panic more as you knew that you needed to keep going with the patrol.

Dick had noticed that you had fallen behind. His trained ears noticed the absence of your light and smaller paced steps that contrasted against his and his brothers. He slowed his pace as he glanced behind him to try and spot you. The vigilantes eyes widened when he saw you clutching your chest and leaning desperately against the wall and for a heart-wrenching moment he thought that you had been injured. Turning on his heel he sprinted back toward you alerting your brothers who all followed quickly after seeing the cause of Dick’s sudden change in demeanour.

When they reached you, after what felt like too long but was actually only a matter of seconds covered by long strides, Tim was quick to search you for injury only to come back looking confused with his eyebrows turned down when he found you seemingly unscathed.

“What’s the matter, kid?” He asked frantically “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head and tried to give him an answer but all that came out was a ragged sob as you continued to clutch at your chest. Your heart pounded in your chest as you shook, surrounded by your brothers, and suddenly Damian clocked what was happening.

“She’s having a panic attack.”

You nodded somewhat recognisably as your brother's high alert switched off somewhat. Jason took your hands gently, moving them away from your suit that you were clutching and held them gently in his. He then eased you to the floor and crouched in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N/N. Look at me. You’re okay.”

The sound of his gentle voice and the feeling of his leather gloves in your hand grounded you somewhat and you managed to get your eyes to stop looking around sporadically and to focus on him.

“Good. Now deep breaths.” He moved your hand so that it rested over his chest to allow you to feel his steady rhythm.

“In and out, Little Wing. Follow Hood.” Dick added. He was still hovering over you anxiously as Jason tried to calm you down.

As you followed your brother's breathing, you found yours gradually slowing until it somewhat was back to normal.

Damian made his way over and sat down beside you to offer you some comfort. You were feeling slightly dizzy, and noticing he signalled for Dick to grab you some water from his pack. Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re okay, sis.”

You sniffled, wiping away the last of your onslaught of tears. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Wing.” Tim told you. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” Dick added. “I’ve totally freaked out during a mission before. We all have. In fact, just last week Damian-”

“Tt. We don’t need to talk about that.” Damian chided, rolling his eyes.

There was a moment of tender silence as you regained your composure before Jason asked:

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged at them, bringing your knees to your chest. “I don’t really know what happened… I guess I’ve just had a bad feeling about tonight and I’ve been so stressed about all of my assignments I still need to write up. I guess it just all caught up to me at the wrong time.”

“Oh kid. I’m sorry none of us have been around to help. We’ve been so caught up in our own stuff that we’ve failed to notice that you might need help too.” Dick told you.

“How about we get you home so you can relax? Hm?”

“But…what about patrol?” You asked, voice raising an octave as you began to panic a little again “We can’t just miss it!”

“Bruce will understand.” Tim reassured you.

“And we’ll help you finish your assignments.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You protested.

“We’re your brothers, kiddo. It’s what we’re here for.”

[beepbeep-lettuce]

Never Enough pt.2

*kinda angst but not? lol*

This is part 2 of this angst.

☆.。.：*゜☆ﾞ.。.：*゜☆.。.：*゜☆ .。.：*゜☆

It’s a beautiful thing. Love I mean. It often comes unexpectedly, forcing you through many emotions and challenges. Suddenly, it’s no longer just you, it’s you and I. Gone are the days where you only think about yourself, where you can do whatever you want without having to worry about how it affects another. It’s a big change and it won’t always be easy. But nobody said love was easy, right? Certainly not Satoru.

☆.。.：*゜☆ﾞ.。.：*゜☆.。.：*゜☆ .。.：*゜☆

*FLASHBACK*

When you came into his life, everything wasn’t so complicated. He had his looks, his charm, his six eyes, his friends.. but he didn’t have you. Not yet anyway. Gojo had always said that you were the missing puzzle piece in his life. Existence just felt right with you around. Even Shoko and Suguru liked you! Life was just… well, perfect! Not a day went by where he didn’t remind you how lucky he was to have caught you (coincidentally) that day on the sidewalk. You were breathtaking. Of course he had been captivated by your beauty the moment he laid eyes on you. Him and his friends had been walking around and enjoying their free time which seemed few and far between these days when a gorgeous sight befell Gojo’s eye sight. You, so beautiful in your flowy sundress that rested upon your figure so delicately. You, who were currently walking towards him and not paying attention to a rock on ground while you snickered with your friends about something irrelevant. And as your- not so graceful- form stumbled towards the rough pavement, two strong arms caught you. Your disoriented eyes flickering up to meet his that looked at you from behind his dark sunglasses, and in that moment Satoru knew that he had found his missing piece.

“Oh god- I am so sorry!” You blurted as you scrambled back onto your feet. Bowing down slightly as some sort of an apology.

“No worries! I’m just glad you didn’t fall and hurt yourself!” Satoru chuckled, his voice smooth and confident as he smiled down at you. Your friends laughing softly behind you as they watched this awkward yet- admittedly cute interaction. His friends looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

“I should have looked where I was stepping I am really sorry! Thank you so much for catching me!” You giggled nervously as you looked anywhere but this extremely handsome stranger’s face. Wanting to find a way to repay him, you remembered the bag of sweet treats that you had picked up a few minutes ago.

“Oh here! Take this, it’s the least I can do!” You said cheerfully as you reached for the fluffy slice of cake that was delicately wrapped in the bag you were holding.

“No no! You don’t need to repay me doll. I was just trying to save your pretty dress from getting dirty.” He replied- pulling his glasses slightly down and giving you a wink. His friends still watching this exchange with amusement and slight disgust at how unlike him Gojo was acting. And once you saw his piercing blue eyes, you were hooked.

“Please! Take it! It’s a thank you for saving my dress- and my pride!” You replied with a grimace as you shoved the little box into his hands. Giving him no choice but to take it.

“Anyway, thank you again!” You said hurriedly as you turned back to your friends and quickly walking away before he could say anything. You were hoping he hadn’t noticed the redness that had spread across your face.

“He was cuteeee!” One of your girlfriends squealed.

“Yeah! If you don’t want him, can I have him?” The other one smiled as she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“H-hey wait!” Satoru said loudly, perhaps a bit too loud. As he took two long strides towards you, grabbing one of your wrists gently to stop you from leaving. Your girlfriends quickly walking away as they turned back to give you a thumbs up, silently signaling that they’d wait for you further ahead.

“Can I at least get your name?” He spoke in a tone a bit more desperate than he was used to.

“L/n Y/n. And what about you, mysterious stranger?” you retorted with a smile. The redness in your cheeks only intensifying as he looked at you.

“Gojo Satoru, at your service.” He said as he released your wrist and bowed like an old timey gentleman which made you snicker.

“Well Gojo Satoru, it was nice to meet you.” You curtsied awkwardly in return before you began to turn away once more. Oh yeah, he was gonna marry you.

“Wait, can I uhh.. take you out some time?” His voice faltered nervously, taking him by surprise again. Who were you? Why was he so nervous? He’s Gojo Satoru!

“I’d like that.” You smiled.

☆.。.：*゜☆ﾞ.。.：*゜☆.。.：*゜☆ .。.：*゜☆

“She’s pregnant, right?” Shoko asked in her normal monotone voice.

“H-how do you-“ He sputtered.

“I was with her when she found out.” She said.

When-“ he began.

“Look, if I was you I’d go back home and do whatever it is you do after work. Shes safe, but she doesn’t want to see nor talk to you.” She spoke coldly into the phone.

“Shoko, tell me where she is. I need to talk to her. I need to clear things up please!” He almost screamed desperately.

“Why now? Why don’t you go back to ignoring her like you’ve been doing for the past 6 months? Seems like you were doing just fine not talking to her then. You’ll be fine now.” She continued. How did Shoko know? Had he missed something? He never thought to ask if you’d been spending time anywhere else and beside your bakery.

“What are you talking about? Are you best friends now or what? What did I miss” He babbled.

“Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for two seconds you’d realize what the hell you were putting your wife through. Maybe she needed a friend to lean on while her husband was absent in their marriage. Regardless, you’re still my friend so I’ll tell you this. She is safe, her and the baby will okay and you need to give her space and get your shit together before you come looking for her.” She said sternly before cutting the call.

“What the fuck just happened.” He asked himself incredulously, letting the shock set in. Shoko was right, he’d been so caught up in his own little brooding world that he didn’t realize how horridly he was treating you at home.

☆.。.：*゜☆ﾞ.。.：*゜☆.。.：*゜☆ .。.：*゜☆

“What did I just do Shoko?! I just left him! Just like that! The father of my future child!” You sobbed as your friend set a warm cup of tea down on the coffee table, rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. Comforting didn’t really come naturally to her but for you, her unexpected close friend, she’d suck it up.

“He didn’t deny that he was cheating or anything! He just sputtered as I walked out the door! I don’t know what’s going on! He’s so different now- it’s like I don’t even know who he is anymore!” You continued to sob into your hands.

“Like I’ve said before, as much as I hate him right now, I have to admit that I don’t think he’d cheat on you. He’s been head over heels for you since he laid his stupid blue eyes on you. I was literally there.” Shoko sighed as she grabbed the cup of tea and offered it towards your trembling hands. Taking a deep breath in you sniffled as you grabbed it.

“Then what else could it be? Why does he spend so much time at “work”? The Satoru I know would take any chance he got to get away from work to come back home to me!It just doesn’t make any sense! Why does he come back smelling of perfume?” You ranted as you sipped at your tea. A sudden wave of nausea coming over you forcing you to run towards Shoko’s bathroom, immediately throwing up into the toilet. You didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or the overwhelming emotions swirling in your head that were the cause.

“Well, I did mention that there’s been a lot of talk about some special grade curses that have been popping up more frequently. Maybe he’s just been getting caught up with that? I mean there’s been a lot of injured sorcerers coming in lately.” She said as she held your hair up. Once you’d finish emptying your stomach, you shakily got up to rinse your mouth with a cup of water that Shoko had placed on the sink.

“As for the perfume, there’s a lot of different sorcerers that have been coming around and joining meetings about those special grades, maybe one of them just wears a lot of perfume?” She tried to rationalize. She hated Satoru right now sure- but did she think he’d cheat on you? No. Not for a second. If she was honest, she hadn’t seen much of him for months. But what she did know was that special grades were becoming a problem, and nobody was better at exorcising them than Gojo Satoru.

“I don’t know what to think! He’s the love of my life, I want to believe that it’s anything but infidelity. I just can’t think of anything else that it could be! He’s made it so difficult these last few months.” You signed defeatedly. However, before you could even leave the bathroom there was a frantic knocking coming from the front door. Your breath hitched as the knocking continued, causing the both of you to freeze. Of course you knew who it was, but you weren’t sure you had the strength to face him right now.

“Go into the guest room, okay? I’ll deal with him.” She said reassuringly. Nodding, you made your way to her guest room. However, being unable to stop yourself, you walked back to the end of the hallway so you could eavesdrop on their exchange.

“What do you want?” She asked bluntly, looking up at her disheveled friend. His blindfold had been pulled down around his neck and the rain falling behind him.

“I know she’s in here, Shoko. Let me in” he said in a much calmer tone than she had anticipated.

“She doesn’t want to see you. Go away.” She stated coldly.

“I’m not asking. Let me see my wife.” He said in a stern yet controlled demeanor.

“I said she doesn’t want to see you, just leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough? You had your chance.” Her voice rising slightly, uncharacteristically.

“I’m getting in there one way or another Shoko.” He said, no longer looking down at his only remaining friend. Instead, he focused on a familiar figure behind her walking towards the door.

“I said no-“ she began, but before she could continue she felt your delicate hand on her shoulder. Her head spun around to look at you in an expression that said “what the hell are you doing?”.

“It’s okay Shoko.” You said quietly, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Fine, but I’m gonna be right inside if you need me. And don’t step too far from the door.” She agreed as she handed you an umbrella. Not sparing a glance at Satoru before retreating back inside and shutting the door softly.

“Baby please, let me explain. I promise it’ll all make sense.” he spoke gently, his hands reaching towards yours, not expecting you to flinch away slightly. His eyes widening in shock.

“What do you want, Satoru? Did you come to yell at me and call me useless some more?” You spat, looking directly into his cerulean eyes that searched yours in silent desperation.

“Darling, please let me explain.” He said in almost a whisper, anticipating your response which came in only a slight nod. And with a nervous gulp, he began.

“6 months ago, there was an uptick in special grade curse sightings. Of course I was sent to exorcise them, but when I went on a mission one night, I saw..” he sighed, closing his eyes before resuming.

“I saw Suguru..” he said.

“S-Suguru? But Suguru is..” your words faded.

“I know. He- he looked like him, he spoke like him. Or- it tried to but something was off. Once I really got a look, I realized it wasn’t him. And in that moment, he- it took stitches out of his forehead and showed me what it really was. A curse that transferred its brain into his body. My best friend’s body. He- he was using his body like his puppet.” Satoru let out a mix of a sigh and a laugh in disbelief. Your eyes widened in shock as he continued, his own beginning to water and a desperate hand gripping his snow white hair. You desperately fought back the urge to reach up and stroke his face to comfort him, like you tended to do when he was in distress. Your beloved Satoru, he’d been going through so much and you were none the wiser. But that doesn’t change the way he hurt you.

“He tried to capture me in the prison realm but he was unsuccessful. And as more sorcerers came he was forced to leave before they could arrive. Ever since then I’ve been going insane trying to find him and get my best friend’s body back. The late nights aren’t me going to “get dinner” they’re me trying to find where this fucking curse is and getting my best friend back, so his body can rest in peace. I never meant to put up so many barriers between us. A-As for the perfume- I’ve been spending more time around other sorcerers to help with the search, one of them being Mei Mei. I paid her to help me look for him and she won’t stop spraying that stuff every 30 fucking minutes. But that’s irrelevant. I promise you I would never be and have never been unfaithful to you. I adore you, y/n.” He said, his hand finally taking a hold of yours as you tried to process everything he’d just dumped onto you. Your shocked eyes searching his for any sign of dishonesty, but his expression never wavered. His eyes only looking back at yours with intense sincerity.

“I know that nothing I say will ever make up for what I put you through these past months, but if you’ll have me I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are the love of my life. I’ll spend the rest of my days slowly gaining your trust back. I’d give up my six eyes if it meant that you’d give me another chance, my love.” He said as he slowly brought your hand up to to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of it.

“I-I don’t know what to say..” you stuttered. And you truly didn’t. You had no reason not to believe your husband, it all tracked. I mean who wouldn’t lose their minds after seeing their best friend being used as a flesh puppet after their supposed death.

“I know that you deserve better, my darling. I will never forgive myself for hurting you. But I promise- I swear to you that I’ll be a better husband to you. I’ll be the best husband you could ask for. I’ll be the best father I can be to our little one. I’d do anything for you, y/n.” He professed.

“I don’t need you to be “the best husband”, I need you to be the Satoru that I met all those years ago. The Satoru that vowed to be with me in sickness and in health, I love you too- more than you’ll ever know. But how can I go back so easily? I understand that you’ve been through a lot, but why did you shut yourself away from me? I’m your wife, Satoru! I’m supposed to be your support! How can I be there for you if you don’t let me? How can I know that you won’t just go back to the way you’ve been for half a year?” You said, your voice trembling and the tears that welled up in your lash line now falling down your cheeks once more. Satoru’s hands gently cupped your face as he wiped at your tears, like he always did. His expression softening.

“That’s a risk that you have to take, baby. And I know that you have no reason to take it, but I want you to know that whatever you choose- I’ll be here for you and the baby. Until the day I die.” His eyes staring back into your own with the love that you hadn’t felt for 6 arduous months. This was your Satoru, the father of your unborn child. And after a moment that felt like eternity for the both of you..

“I- Yes!” You choked out in a sob. Your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek causing him to let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank you.. thank you so much, Y/n. I promise you that I will make up for it till the last of my days. I will never let any form of harm come to you or our baby.” Satoru spoke earnestly. He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off of the ground and kissing you like he did the day he married you.

“I love you, Y/n Gojo.” He whispered into your kiss.

It didn’t have to be instant and it would certainly be a very long and very emotionally painful process. But with your Satoru by your side, your little family would make it. Because, that’s what love is. There will be ups and there will be downs. It’ll be difficult and sometimes painful, but there isn’t a manual you can read that tells you how to navigate love gracefully. Bumps in the road will always happen. Some worse than others, but if you’re willing to work on it- there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel. After all, nobody said love was easy.

☆.。.：*゜☆ﾞ.。.：*゜☆.。.：*゜☆ .。.：*゜☆

I didn’t expect such positive reactions on my last post! Thank you sooo much for that! Anyway I didn’t know what direction I wanted to take with this part so I just decided to wing it. I’m not completely happy with it but I hope you guys liked it. :3 *this does not follow the cannon story like %100!*

Disclaimer: very much not edited, I finished this at 5:30AM ˁ῁̬ˀ

@chilichopsticks @kaetheii @kalopsia-flaneur @angelina7890

[princesslightgiggles]

Jace…. Undone

The loft was quiet as Clary waited for Jace to come home. She’d spent the afternoon in her studio, painting to distract herself from the worry gnawing at her mind. Jace had been out on a mission, and even though he was one of the best Shadowhunters, Clary couldn’t help but feel anxious every time he went out.

When the door finally creaked open, Clary immediately sensed something was off. Jace’s usual confident stride was replaced by a weary shuffle. His shoulders were slumped, and his expression was darker than usual. Clary’s heart clenched.

“Hey,” she said softly, setting her brush aside and walking over to him. “Rough day?”

Jace nodded, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. It didn’t go as planned. We lost track of the demon, and a couple of the team got hurt. Nothing too serious, but still...” His voice trailed off, heavy with guilt and frustration.

Clary reached out, gently cupping his cheek. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

He managed a small, tired smile. “Me too.”

“Come sit with me,” she urged, guiding him to the couch. “You need to relax. Let me take care of you for once.”

Jace hesitated but eventually gave in, flopping down on the couch with a sigh. Clary sat next to him, looking at his boots. “Here, let me help with these.”

He started to protest, but she waved him off. “I insist. You always take care of me. Now it’s my turn.”

Jace leaned back, too exhausted to argue further, as Clary unlaced his boots and pulled them off. She set them aside and then took one of his feet in her hands, starting to massage it gently. Jace’s eyes drifted closed, and he let out a contented sigh.

“This feels... nice,” Jace admitted softly. “I’ve never had a foot massage before.”

Clary smiled, her fingers kneading his tired muscles. “Really? Well, you deserve it.”

As Clary's fingers worked their way to the arch of his foot, she felt him tense slightly. She glanced up at his face, but his eyes were still closed. She continued, but when her fingers brushed the same spot again, Jace jerked, his eyes snapping open.

“What was that?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

Jace shifted uncomfortably, trying to play it off. “Just sore, I guess.”

Clary gave him a skeptical look but continued, her touch a little firmer this time. Again, when she reached the arch, Jace twitched, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone teasing. “It almost looks like it tickles.”

Jace frowned, trying to suppress the growing smile. “No, it’s just... you know, sensitive.”

Clary’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Sensitive, huh?”

She deliberately let her fingers dance lightly over the same spot, watching Jace closely. Suddenly, he convulsed, a burst of laughter erupting from him. “Clary, stop!” he gasped between fits of laughter, trying to pull his foot away, but Clary held on, her fingers continuing their gentle assault.

“You are ticklish!” Clary exclaimed, unable to contain her laughter at his reaction.

Jace’s face turned a deep shade of red as he giggled uncontrollably, completely undone by the unexpected sensation. He squirmed and writhed under her touch, helpless to escape the onslaught of ticklish torture.

Clary couldn’t help but laugh along with him, finding his reaction utterly adorable and endearing. She continued to tickle his foot until tears of laughter streamed down his face and he begged for mercy.

Finally, she relented, letting him catch his breath. Jace lay back, his chest heaving, his face flushed, and a wide grin spread across his lips. “You’re evil,” he panted, but there was no malice in his words, only pure amusement and affection.

Clary grinned mischievously. “I prefer to think of it as therapeutic. You need to laugh more, Jace. It looks good on you.”

He reached out, pulling her close. “Maybe you’re right. I guess I just need you around to remind me.”

Clary snuggled against him, feeling his laughter still reverberating through his body. “Always,” she promised. “I’ll always be here to make you laugh, even if I have to tickle it out of you.”

Jace chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you, Clary.”

“I love you too, Jace,” she murmured. “Now, how about that other foot?”

Jace groaned, but he didn’t pull away. As Clary’s hands started their gentle work again, he realised that maybe, just maybe, a little laughter and playfulness weren’t so bad after all.

[piecksz]

prove it | (m)

pairings: modern!jean kirstein x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, mirror sex, penetrative sex, saliva, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, slight mentions of breeding, explicit language

words: 3k+

summary: your jealousy sparks a bitter argument between you and jean, but he shows in more ways than one, that you’re the only person he’s infatuated with. 

a/n: as always, if you wanna fully immerse yourself in the smut hehe you can listen to the songs i looped incessantly while writing: girls need love too by summer walker and excitement by trippie redd and PARTYNEXTDOOR (you cannot tell me that jean wouldn’t listen to either he’s so sexy omg pls free me from my brainrot)

You gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up above your ankles to make sure the material didn’t get caught under the sharp heels of your shoes while you stormed into the house. Seething with outrage, you swung the front door shut behind you, savoring the few seconds of solitude you had before Jean trailed behind you clamorously.

“I already told you, and I’m telling you—again—I didn’t know she was going to be there!” Jean was insistent, his footfall demanding on your tail as he followed you into the kitchen. His fingers were carelessly twined in his hair, an overt demonstration of his stress.

You hastily tossed your purse onto the counter, paying no mind to the way it slid across the granite and almost toppled over its edge onto the floor. “Bullshit Jean. It was your fucking event, how did you not know she was gonna be there?” You spared him an irate glance, it was the first time you’d looked at him since the two of you left the venue.

The entire ride home, Jean had attempted to make conversation, asking you if you’d enjoyed yourself and trying to solicit your opinion on how he’d done coordinating his company’s milestone event. Following the successful closing of a large venture deal and the expansion of the corporation, his boss had entrusted him to organize a company soirée to celebrate, and if Jean’s event had managed to go off without a hitch, a possible promotion was in the cards for him. However, much to Jean’s confusion you were quiet in your responses, mainly giving one word answers and little praise.

After relentless prodding, you snapped, admitting you were irritated after seeing Jean talking to Mikasa, an old coworker and friend of his. You’d disappeared for only a moment to use the bathroom, but when you returned, the two were engrossed in what seemed like interesting chatter. Seeing the way Jean laughed after everything she said prompted the agitation in your lower stomach to boil up into your throat. Nothing was that funny.

“Maybe I overlooked her name on the guest list.” Jean’s fingers left his hair and wrapped around his tie, tugging to loosen it.

“Oh, you sure looked over her while you two were talking and laughing.” You stood on your toes to grab a mug from the cabinet before slamming its wooden door shut. “What was so funny? The fact that you used to fawn over her like an idiot?”

You shuffled back over to the sink, flipping the faucet and watching as the mug filled with water before bringing the cup to your lips to take a long drink. You sighed as the liquid quenched your dry throat, raw from yelling. You peered over the top of the mug at Jean, eyes following him as he made his way over to the selection of hard liquor against the kitchen wall.

“There you go. Name calling like a fucking child.” He poured himself a generous glass of booze, chuckling wryly and taking a sip.

You pulled the mug away from your mouth. “You—are so—,” you started, but your words disbanded into a loud and frustrated groan.

“I’m so what?” Jean swirled the auburn liquid around in his glass, pretending to look more interested in the way it moved than in the conversation you two were having.

“You don’t want me to finish that sentence, Jean. You really don’t.” You set your cup down loudly, so forcefully it might have shattered with just another ounce of force. “Stop acting like I’m overreacting. You know I’m not the jealous type, you fucking know that. I wouldn’t care, but you know you guys have history together.”

“Yeah, history means that it was in the past,” Jean retorted. “It was in the fucking past.”

You leaned forward on the counter, dipping your head low as if to question the validity of your boyfriend’s reply. “You’re telling me you’d be okay seeing me with an old flame?” You laughed humourlessly.  “You complained for ten minutes after a waiter called me sweetheart.”

Jean took another long sip, then exhaled. “Because he clearly couldn’t tell the difference between horny and hospitality. Now you’re blaming me because you couldn’t see that?”

You nodded sardonically, a disbelieving smile shadowing on your lips while you reached behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. “And how’s that any different from this?”

“Mikasa never liked me back, what’s the problem? Did you just pick a topic out of a hat to bitch about?” Jean downed the rest of his alcohol, and then returned the short glass to the display. He wiped at his lips with his thumb and started back toward the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Jean.”

He let out a low chuckle while he rounded the length of the counter, sauntering in long strides until he was behind you with his large hands planted on the curve of your hips. He dipped his head, letting his mouth ghost by your ear. “You know, you’re kind of hot when you’re mad.” His palms began roaming, first gliding across your stomach before moving to your backside and cupping your ass in the curve of his hand. “Especially in that dress. You look really fucking good, baby.”

You barely cracked a smile. “Yeah?”

Jean’s low voice rumbled against your back. “Hell yeah.”

You turned around to face him, gazing up at him from behind sultry lids. “Then how about…,” you started, teasing him by fiddling around with the loose buttons on his shirt. “You sleep dreaming about all the things you wish you could do to me tonight. Because you’re not getting any.” Your seductive expression fell, and you pushed him backwards so you could slide out of the space between his body and the counter.

As you retired into your bedroom, you heard Jean’s weary voice echo from outside. “You’re cold.”

“Good,” you responded back resoundingly. “Maybe Mikasa’s free.”

“Maybe she is!” he retaliated, and although he wasn’t in front of you, you could nearly see the way he rolled his eyes at your spiteful jab.

You rolled your eyes back. “Shitforbrains.”

You removed your earrings, throwing them onto the dresser with your necklace before slipping out of your heels and stepping out of your dress. You struggled to make haste, trying to get ready for bed as quickly as you could before Jean entered the bedroom and had a chance to say anything that would incite another feud. Lazy and clad in your undergarments, you hauled yourself into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror lethargically while you brushed your teeth and removed your makeup with halfhearted effort.

“Do I need to prove it to you?”

You removed the cold wipe from your lids, opening your eyes and watching as Jean wandered into the bathroom. He continued walking until he met you at the sink, and he wrapped his long arms around your frame again.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into him until the space between your bodies waned. You gave him an unamused glare through your reflection in the mirror, and resumed rubbing away at your persistent eyeliner.

“Should I mark up that pretty neck of yours?” Jean nestled his face into the curve of your neck, pressing messy, carnal kisses along the side of your throat until his lips met the dip underneath your jawline. He lightly brushed over it, knowing it was your sweet spot. Every time he wanted to turn you into a frenzy of moans, that spot was the easiest way he knew how.

“Or maybe I should have you carry our child.” His hands were hot against your stomach, the soft pad of his finger drawing a delicate circle around your navel. You were glad it didn’t tickle enough to make you laugh.

“You’re pissing me off,” you said, simply.

Jean released a husky groan that vibrated against the hollow of your throat. “You’re turning me on.” He hummed. “You feel that?”

You did. Against your ass, you could feel the prominence of Jean’s hardened cock through his pants, digging eagerly into your backside, and he did nothing but continue to fuel his lust by rubbing his erection against you.

“You’re the only one that can get me hard like this,” he strained, grunting at the discomfort in his briefs.

“Look how pretty you are.” Jean took your chin in his hand and prompted you to look at yourself in the mirror. He hovered over your shoulder and looked on, like he was only spectating. “Do you think anyone compares to you?”

His eyebrows creased while amber eyes fixated on your skeptical face. After a lack of response, he jerked your chin, forcing your attention back to yourself. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said quickly.

“Exactly. Good answer.” Jean’s thumb swept gently across your chin while he withdrew his hand.

Your timid eyes drifted over to him, observing as he slid two digits into his mouth, glazing them generously with saliva before lolling his tongue and pulling his fingers out. A thick string of spit lingered until his hand dipped and slid itself into your underwear.

You choked back a desperate cry once you felt Jean part your folds, using his wet fingers to pet the sensitive swell of your clit. Instinctively, you wrapped a sweaty, tremulous hand around his wrist, but it did nothing to quell his painfully tender ministrations.

“Jean,” you murmured. Your voice was breathy, just barely above a whisper while you gave in and rolled your hips against his hand. “Fuck, wait—Jean—”

“I love the way you say my name.” He placed his free hand on your breast. His fingers hooked onto the delicate fabric of your bra and tugged the material down, freeing your nipple. “Say it louder.”

“Jean,” you mewled loudly as he began flicking the hardening peak of your chest with a ginger touch. His movements were delicate and sensual, as though he wanted to kindle an impatient desire within you.

Jean’s fingers continued to rub slow, tortured circles into your clit and he eased into you every few seconds to make sure he was keeping his fingers slick. Once he heard your whimpers begin to ebb, he would stop and switch the direction of his motion, sending you into another flurry of moans and taking pleasure in the filthy-wet mess he was creating in your panties. “Louder.”

You bit your lip and closed your eyes until the darkness of your eyelids melted into white heat. The familiar torrent of quivers shook your body, and the surface of your skin tingled with the onset of your orgasm. You dug your nails into Jean’s forearm, and in the haze of your high you forgot about all of your concerns.  

“Jean!” You cried his name again, your wail echoing off of the bathroom walls while you writhed against his hold. You moved restlessly, looking for absolutely anything to cling to in an attempt to steady yourself until your climax subsided.

After you came to and regained your soundness, you scrutinized yourself in the mirror through misty tears, chagrined at how easily you’d submitted to him. You were situated limply in Jean’s arms, bottom lip swollen from persistent biting in your best efforts to veil how good he was truly making you feel, but from the sickeningly-smug simper on his face it was obvious that now Jean knew his fingers were more fruitful than an apology. Which meant this episode surely wouldn’t be the last of its kind.

He slotted his fingers into his mouth for the last time, sucking the silken coat of your arousal off of them before releasing them with a quiet pop, then Jean’s other hand crept up your neck until his thumb drove itself to part your closed lips, just wide enough so he could stick his lubricous fingers inside.

“Mhm,” he encouraged, nodding at the way you meekly looked to him for direction.

Jean’s fingers were warm and sloppy in your mouth as you sucked and he watched you intently, undoubtedly wishing that his cock could receive the same treatment. He sighed heavily as you wreathed your hot tongue around his knuckles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his digits from your jaws before his urge to stick them down your throat and watched as you gagged through tears became insatiable.

Jean worked one hand against his belt, unbuckling it skillfully before impatiently forgoing his buttons and tugging on his zipper instead. His breathing grew labored while you watched from the mirror as he shuffled behind you, and you canted yourself to the side to provide yourself with a clear view of Jean’s cock in the surface’s reflection.

His thick length pulsated, convulsing even without contact, and every time it did so, a fresh stream of precum dribbled from the swollen, red crown of his tip. With a light hand, Jean tapped his cock against the side of your thigh, prompting you to take him in your palm, and when you obeyed, it elicited a lengthy groan from him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You weighed his hot and heavy cock in your hand before beginning to move slowly, flicking your wrist and evoking the jerking of Jean’s hips when you did. His head hung forward and loose strands of his neatly tucked hair billowed around his face while he watched as your hand worked against his throbbing heat.

Jean delivered another set of kisses to your neck, kissing along your jawline until he stopped at the corner of your mouth to take a brief second to acknowledge his own pleasure. “Shit,” he grunted, his fleshly pants now becoming uncontrollable. “Okay, that’s enough.”

You loosened your grip around Jean’s cock while he curled his fingers around the cloth of your thin underwear, pulling it down until he stopped midway past your thighs, then his large hand settled between your shoulder blades to bend you over.

His palm collided with the pert curve of your ass, delivering a mild spank, and then he ghosted his touch over the stinging pain, blithely enjoying the way you whimpered his name ever so quietly. Jean positioned himself at your dripping entrance, prodding the tight hole with his tip over and over again just to taunt you until you glowered uncomfortably at him through the mirror.

“Stop it,” you heaved, your longing now turning into an unbearable itch.

Normally, you knew Jean would have loved to tease you, disregarding your begging and instead working even harder to rouse you, but you could tell by the sweat that beaded around his hairline that he needed relief too. So Jean spared you, grip tightening on your hips, and he pushed himself into you with a husky and guttural moan that overwhelmed your delicate whines.

He wasted no time and began moving, gradually picking up his pace until he decided on a moderate speed, not too rough, but just forceful enough that your breasts jounced and your body lurched against the sink whenever he thrusted into you.

“I always tell you how good you feel, do you need to hear it again?” Jean murmured, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and whenever he pulled back to rock his hips forward again, it glistened with a new layer of your arousal. “Your pretty pussy always takes me so well.”

He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist and placing his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place while he fucked himself into you, over and over again. You tugged at Jean from deep inside your well, tightening your walls around his cock and causing his jaw to go slack with bliss.

“The way you fucking milk me, I could cum right now.” His balls slapped ceaselessly against your skin, and the sound of two sweaty bodies married together saturated the thick sex-tainted air. You struggled to watch yourself in the mirror, mouth wide open and eyes bloodshot from your tiredness and tears. Jean’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear and sent a ripple of goosebumps down the expanse of your back.

“I wish I could take a picture of you right now and keep it for later.” He panted into your ear. “You’re the only thing I can think of when I jerk off, it would be nice to have a visual.” When you said nothing he smiled, tugging at the softness of your lobe with his teeth. “Maybe next time, yeah?”

You could only give a weak and disoriented nod, and when you felt Jean’s cock twitch inside you, coupled with the way his muscles tensed underneath his skin, you knew he was close. You wrapped your hands around the arm curved about your waist and nodded at him again, cueing that you wanted to feel his release inside you.

Jean arched an eyebrow, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he made no efforts to slow his cadence. “Yeah, you’re gonna let me cum inside you?”

You nodded silently for a third time.

Jean delivered a few more generous jerks before the small of his back tightened and he came inside you, amply flooding your chafed walls with his hot seed until you overflowed, and the creamy, white liquid seeped past the girth of his cock and began dribbling down the inside of your thigh.

Jean pulled his now limp cock out, wiping his essence gently on your folds before pulling you into another doting embrace. His clinch was tight, warm cheeks pressed against each other while he looked at you in the mirror with complete and unadulterated adoration.

“I love you,” he affirmed before flipping you over in his arms to face him. He bent down to press a salty and clammy kiss to your mouth, his lips stalling for a few moments longer before he pulled away and then delivered another kiss to your forehead. “Alright, stupid?”

You bobbed your head briefly, now embarrassed at your earlier outburst. You sunk into Jean’s torso, head against his chest, and mumbled sheepishly. “I love you too.”

The two of you stood together, arms encircling each other until Jean carefully broke his caress and began tugging you in the direction of the shower.

“Come on baby.” He grinned. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 12,601 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: pre-apocalypse Warnings: language (duh, it's me), violence, domestic violence A/N: This one got LONGGGGG woo! Protective, badass Daryl is just so. damn. good. Summary: Daryl has long had a crush on Y/N, a waitress at the local dive bar. When things start to go bad with her boyfriend, he suddenly finds himself solving problems for her.

Your name: submit What is this?

Your friend nudged you gently with her elbow as you started to move past her with your tray. “Hey. Who’s that?” she asked, nudging her head in the direction of the door. Two men had just walked in. They were regulars at the bar where you’d been a waitress for a long time. Your friend, however, had just started working there a couple days earlier.

“Oh, the Dixon brothers,” you said, skirting past her to load your tray up with the next round of drinks.

“Are they trouble?” she asked, giving you a sideways glance. You had to laugh at that question. The bar you worked at was a total dive and most of the clientele were unsavory characters. It was frequented by a lot of the biker gangs that road the highway causing trouble.

“Everyone in here pretty much is trouble,” you said, loading the row of beers on the bar top onto your tray.

“Even Mark,” she said, her tone dripping sweet because she knew it would annoy you. You rolled your eyes.

“Even Mark,” you agreed. You’d met your boyfriend at the bar while you were working. You hadn’t been dating that long, only about 3 months. He was a member of one of the biker gangs, but you’d grown up around people like him and the rest of the bar patrons your whole life. You were used to the whistles and catcalling and even the occasional ass-grabbery. Most of the time you felt perfectly safe at work with Charlie, the bartender, watching over things and quite frankly, most of the men tipped you generously. You just chose not to think about where they got the money. You didn’t come from any money at all, and you’d gotten a job as soon as you legally could to help your mom pay the bills. She had already been working two full-time jobs trying to keep your family afloat. Even before you’d been able to work officially you took every babysitting or lawn mowing gig you could find. Your dad was a good man, kind and loving, but an alcoholic. He’d had a work accident when you were just a baby and had chronic back pain from it. He was still young when he finally succumbed to his alcoholism.

And you’d just kept working.

“Well, that younger brother is cute,” your friend said, drawing your attention back to the two men who’d just walked in. “What’re their names?”

“Gimme a minute and I’ll introduce you,” you said. You rounded the bar and took the beers on your loaded tray over to a table of boisterous bikers and handed them out. By the time you got back up to the bar, the Dixon brothers had wandered over.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” Merle grinned at you, leaning his forearms on the bar. “Whatchu doin’ lookin’ that good up in here? You lookin’ to start a fight?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at him. “Merle, you can knock off the sweet talkin’. It’s not gonna get you free booze.”

“Who said I even come in here for the booze?” he flirted shamelessly, shooting a wink at you. This time you did laugh appreciatively.

“Uh huh. Well, since you’re at the bar and not in my section, I can get away with ignoring you all night,” you joked. “Charlie will be glad to take your order.” You glanced at the younger Dixon brother who seemed to be quite purposefully keeping his eyes on his hands as he fiddled with a discarded beer top. “How are you, Daryl?” His blue eyes shot up to meet yours. “Doin’ alright?”

Daryl nervously licked his lips and nudged his nose up in a single nod. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

“Good. That’s good,” you said, giving him a wide smile. Daryl’s heart jumped. Fuck. He always felt completely out of control when you smiled at him like that. Half the time it shut down his ability to engage in any sort of conversation and seemed to make his body start malfunctioning. “Well, listen boys. This is my friend Rachel. She just started workin’ here a couple days ago so I expect you to go easy on her.” Rachel smiled at them and said hello. “This is Merle Dixon and his brother Daryl.” You caught sight of one of your tables trying to flag you down. “Merle is the one you need to watch out for. He’ll try his hardest to charm you right out of your skirt, even if it never works,” you joked. “Right, Daryl?”

The younger Dixon brother hardly responded, except that his blue eyes flickered up to your face again for a moment before you breezed away. He looked up again as Charlie wandered over and asked what the Dixons wanted to drink. But Rachel cut in with a smile.

“You’re busy, Charlie. I’ll get it,” she said. She was eyeing Daryl and he felt it, glancing up at her. She was definitely attractive and definitely interested in him from what he could tell, but Daryl was so hung up on you he couldn’t have cared less. “What can I get you?” Rachel asked, leaning on the bar top, giving him a small smile.

“Gimme a bourbon, honey,” Merle said. Daryl hadn’t responded. His eyes had wandered back over to you where you were chatting with a couple regulars in a booth nearby. Merle hit him on the arm.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl drawled, pulling his eyes off you.

The way the younger Dixon brother’s gaze was fixed on you wasn’t lost on Rachel. “Sure thing,” she said, setting about grabbing the drinks. She handed them out. “So, what kind of trouble do the two of you get up to?” Rachel asked. The question was directed at Daryl but he was staring down into his beer, apparently in deep thought about something, so Merle answered instead.

“Any and every kind,” Merle laughed.

Daryl’s eyes were on you again, flickering between glancing your way, watching you smiling and laughing, and staring back down into his beer. Rachel gave the two one final smile and parting look and rushed back over to her section where someone was flagging her down. Scribbling a few notes on her pad about the order, she happened to fall back into stride with you as you both headed up toward the bar area again. You had a break for a couple minutes and hung out by the window where the cooks sent the food out.

Rachel leaned up against the counter. “I think Daryl is taken,” she said.

You gave her a questioning look. “Really? Why? I’ve never seen him in here with anyone but his brother.”

Rachel laughed. “That’s not exactly what I meant.” You stared at her, puzzled, and she rolled her eyes at you. “Y/N, he can’t keep his eyes off you. I was trying to flirt with him and he barely looked at me.”

“What? No, come on,” you laughed. “They’ve hung around here for years and he’s never said anything. I mean, I was single for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! I saw the way he was looking at you,” Rachel said. “He seems a bit shy or something. It’s not a surprise he hasn’t said anything to you about it. And besides, now you’re dating someone.”

You shrugged. “Well, he’s—he’s just a bit quiet. I don’t think—”

Rachel turned as the cook slid out the food for one of her orders. “I’m telling you he’s got it for you. Bad.” She lifted her tray. “You’re in denial. Like you usually are when someone likes you,” she laughed. “Just trust me on this.”

As Rachel breezed away, you glanced back at the two Dixon brothers at the bar. Daryl was aimlessly spinning his beer glass in his hands, staring down at it, but a moment later he glanced up and his blue eyes caught yours. He seemed a bit startled that you were looking his way, and you offered up a small smile. Daryl gulped and ducked his head. A jolt of electricity ran through him again. Fuck. Now she’s dating someone, dumbass. Give it up. She doesn’t want you.

The rest of your shift was busy and there wasn’t much time to sit around and chat. Around dinnertime was usually when the most customers rolled in for a greasy pub meal and some alcohol to lubricate their boasting. Then the dinner crowd hung around and became increasingly more intoxicated. It was about nine when your shift was up and you pulled your apron off and stowed it behind the bar. Merle was playing pool but Daryl was still just leaned up to the counter, keeping to himself. You were about to engage him in some small talk when the door pushed open and your boyfriend walked in. He immediately spotted you and gave you a nod and a smile. You grinned back at him, grabbing your purse from underneath the bar. “Hey, I’ll see you later, Daryl!” you said brightly.

He nodded and managed to give you a small smile, really just one twitch up of one corner of his mouth. His eyes followed you through the bar and he watched over his shoulder as your boyfriend’s hands landed on your lower back and you arched up onto your toes to kiss him. Daryl felt a swell of jealousy in his chest and a hard pit form in his stomach. But he simply turned away and raised a finger to Charlie and asked for another beer.

Your boyfriend Mark walked you out into the parking lot and you stopped next to his bike. “Hop on. Let’s go home,” he said.

“I’m starving. I thought we were going to grab something to eat?” you asked.

“No, come on. Let’s go home,” he said.

You thought there was something a bit different in his tone but you brushed it off. He’d been riding all day. He was probably just ready to be done and wanted to relax. But a couple minutes later, you could tell something was definitely wrong. He was speeding far faster than he should be through town, especially with you behind him. You held tighter to him and leaned forward. “Babe, slow down a bit,” you said.

He didn’t. He took a turn fast and your stomach flipped at the feeling. “Seriously! What the hell are you doing? Slow down!” you yelled over the rumbling of his bike’s engine.

He still didn’t. It was like he was getting a kick out of your fear. If anything, his speed increased. Every turn he took you felt like the bike was about to skid out. You were getting pissed. “Slow the fuck down!” you demanded.

This time he did. But soon he turned into a parking lot and stopped completely. You released your hold on him and he climbed off. A second later he had a hold of your upper arm with a grip like a vice. “Ow!” you protested as he hauled you off his bike. You almost fell as he tugged, losing your balance as you lifted your leg over the bike. “What the fuck?!” you snapped at him, ripping your arm away and staring at him in disbelief.

“If you don’t like how I drive my own goddamn bike, you can fuckin’ walk home,” he growled angrily at you. He was glaring at you with some serious rage in his eyes.

Who the hell was this person? And where was the boyfriend you knew? That’s when you realized. You stared at him, your jaw dropping partially open. “Mark… are you—did you start using again?”

He stared defiantly back at you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business.”

That was a confirmation if anything. You felt another swell of anger. He’d had substance abuse problems before you’d met but he’d assured you he was clean and was planning on staying that way. “Actually, I think it is my business,” you retorted.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. He marched over to his bike and opened the saddle bag, grabbing your purse out and tossing it to the asphalt carelessly. The contents spilled out and rolled on the ground. “Fuckin’ walk it off,” he said, hopping back on his bike and starting it again. You stared in disbelief as he roared away from you.

“Shit! What the hell?!” you yelled as the sound of his bike roared away. You sighed heavily and stared down at the items that had spilled out of your bag, crouching to collect them and stuff them back where they belonged. You straightened up and glanced around at the secluded and dark lot and deserted street. You could walk home, but it would take you a while and you didn’t particularly like the thought of being out where you were alone. You felt vulnerable, like you’d be the perfect prey for some passing scumbag. You hugged your arms across yourself and decided to walk to the nearest gas station and see if you could call someone to give you a ride. Your mind was spinning over what had just happened. He’s using again. Fucking great. You’d have to end it. That was that. After your dad, you steered clear of anyone with a substance abuse problem, and the personality change in Mark was already so apparent and immediate you knew things would, in all likelihood, just get worse.

You walked along the dark sidewalk, just hoping no one would come along and mess with you. It was only a few blocks to the nearest gas station and you fixed your mind on just getting there. You looked over your shoulder as you heard engines approaching and groaned internally. Please just let them ride past. But you could tell immediately that they were slowing. You kept your head down and just kept walking until you heard voices yelling back and forth over the rumble. Glancing over again you saw that it was Merle and Daryl Dixon.

Merle gave you one final parting glance and roared off but Daryl pulled alongside you at the curb and shut off his bike.

“Hey. Are ya okay?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

You glanced at the earnest expression on his face. His blue eyes were slightly narrowed as he peered at you and his brow was drawn down. You nodded. “I’m fine,” you said. But your tone didn’t even convince you.

“Ya shouldn’t be out here at night on your own. Thought ya were with yer guy,” he said, a slight question in his tone.

You shuffled your feet a little anxiously. “I was but—” you shook your head. “I’m fine. I’m just gonna walk to the gas station and see if I can call someone for a ride,” you said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Mmm.” Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment. “I can give ya a ride. I ain’t got anywhere to be.”

You considered him thoughtfully for a moment. You had the overwhelming sense that you could trust him, and maybe it was the openness of his expression or the genuine tone of his voice. Normally you would have bucked at the idea of someone you didn’t know very well learning where you lived, but you’d known Daryl for years. At least, known him on some level. He never started trouble in the bar, although he often got sucked into it because of Merle. A lot of times Daryl was one of the few trying to break it up when it happened. Mostly it just seemed like he hung around with Merle for lack of something else to do. And, sure, sometimes he drank too much and he could be a little hotheaded, but you always had the sense from his rugged but quiet exterior that underneath he was sweet. He chatted with you shyly, asking questions about how you were and your life, but he never pried and he never acted inappropriately toward you or any of the other staff. Daryl Dixon had never once grabbed your ass and that was more than you could say for most of the regulars… Finally, after some consideration, you nodded. “Okay. That’d be great. Thanks,” you said.

He nodded, nudging his nose up. “Hop on.” His heart jumped as you accepted his offered hand for assistance and slid in behind him. It jumped again when he felt your arms lightly loop around him. “Where to?” You explained the route to your house and the bike roared to life underneath you. You held on a little more tightly as he pulled away from the curb.

Your mind was whirring over what you needed to do about Mark. You knew you wanted to end it but you had just witnessed how unstable he was at the moment. Lost in your head, it seemed like mere seconds when Daryl started to slow and you looked up and realized you were already home. The lights were on inside and Mark’s motorcycle was parked in the driveway. Daryl shut his bike off and you climbed off, straightening up at the curb and glancing at him. “Thank you. Really,” you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate it.”

His blue eyes were soft on your face and one corner of his mouth twitched up as he nodded again. “S’nothin’. Anytime.” His eyes drifted over to the motorcycle in the driveway and that little smile faded. His brow furrowed as he glanced back at you. “Ya sure you’re alright?” He sensed there was something going on. Afterall, he’d seen you leave with Mark and yet there you’d been, abandoned on the side of the road…

You gulped. Your heart started racing. You hesitated for a moment. “Um… Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks again, Daryl.”

He had an uneasy feeling but what could he do? It’s not like he could invite himself to hang around. He chewed his bottom lip anxiously for a moment and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll see ya around,” he said, starting his bike up again. He watched you turn and walk up the drive and front walkway. At the top step you glanced back at him and waved. He nodded and revved the engine as you slipped inside.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When Daryl made it back to the shitty motel he and Merle were calling home at the moment, paid for with stolen credit cards and hustled pool money, Merle was kicked back on his bed getting high. Marijuana smoke was thick in the air.

“Oh, you’re back quick, baby brother,” he smirked. “You must be a two thrust and done kind of guy,” he said with a laugh and a goading smile.

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Merle,” he growled, not in the mood for his brother’s bullshit. He pulled his leather jacket off and tossed it down on the chair in the corner before flopping down on his own bed.

“You tellin’ me you didn’t bed that girl?” Merle said, sitting up. “You’ve been pining after that pretty little ass of hers for years. Why the hell did you offer to drive her home if you weren’t gonna fuck her? What the hell was in it for you?” Daryl’s jaw clenched and he glared at his older brother.

“You’re a worthless piece of shit, sometimes, ya know that? Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?” Daryl spat back at him. He flopped down on his pillow and turned his back on his brother. He could hear Merle laughing to himself again and then the volume on the TV clicked up. Daryl was glad to fall asleep, admittedly thinking about how you smelled a little like lavender and vanilla and remembering the feeling of your arms around his waist.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day, Daryl and Merle were back in the bar at the usual time. Your friend Rachel was behind the counter loading her tray with drinks, but as Daryl scanned the room for you there was no sign of you. Maybe you were on a break. He grabbed his usual spot at the bar and Merle was already sweet-talking Rachel again.

Daryl flagged down Charlie and ordered a bourbon. “Hey. Y/N on break?” he asked, hoping it sounded casual.

Charlie shook his head, grabbing a bottle and pouring Daryl’s drink. “No. She called in sick today,” he said with surprise. Daryl’s brow immediately furrowed.

“Sick?” he repeated. Charlie nodded and let out a laugh.

“I know. I think it’s the first time since she’s worked here,” he said. “Except the food poisoning incident a few years back,” he added with a laugh. “But, hell, we were all sick after that.”

Daryl nodded and mumbled a thanks accepting the drink from him. He couldn’t remember ever coming in and you not being there on a day you usually worked. He felt that hard pit form in his stomach again. The night before had seemed off to him in the first place. Seeing you walking alone along the road in the dark like that… What the hell? He knew the kind of people who moved through this little shit town. That wasn’t fucking safe. Your fucking boyfriend had been with you. Why had you been alone? And the way you’d answered him when he’d pressed you to make sure you were alright… you’d hesitated. Daryl downed his bourbon in one big gulp and flagged the bartender down again.

And now you weren’t in today. Your boyfriend’s bike had been in the driveway. He anxiously chewed on the side of his thumbnail. Maybe you really were just sick. But he had a feeling you weren’t. What the hell are you gonna do? Show up at her damn house like a fuckin’ stalker?. Daryl knew there wasn’t anything he could do and he hated that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day Merle was sleeping off a bender so Daryl rode over to the bar alone. He didn’t even want a damn drink. He just wanted to know that you were okay. That annoying pit was still in his stomach. It was still early when he came in so things were slow and there were only a couple townies nursing beers in the corner. He sidled up to his usual spot at the bar. First glance around the room revealed you were conspicuously absent.

“Daryl. What can I get you?” Charlie asked, wiping down the bar top purely out of boredom.

“Just gimme a beer,” Daryl said, tossing a few bucks down. “Shit. Hold that for a minute. I gotta take a leak,” he drawled. He headed down the hallway that led to the restrooms and took a piss, deciding he needed a fucking smoke before he went back for his drink. He was trying to ignore the anxiety swirling in his stomach that you weren’t at work again. He pushed through the back door, digging in his pocket for his lighter, but he glanced up when he sensed someone standing nearby. “Hey,” he said, realizing it was you. You were leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling between your fingers. You seemed almost to shrink away when he noticed you. “I didn’t know ya smoked,” he said surprised.

You exhaled, your knee bouncing a little anxiously. “I don’t. Usually.” Your body language was closed off, entirely unlike you.

As Daryl looked at you his unease grew and was quickly replaced with the seeds of anger. You had sunglasses on and it seemed like you were purposely trying to keep your face turned slightly away from him. His eyes landed on a bruise on your upper arm and he stepped toward you, eyes narrowed. “Ya weren’t sick yesterday,” he said. He could clearly see individual finger marks bruised into your arm.

You kept your eyes turned down toward the pavement and took another drag on your cigarette. You could feel Daryl’s strikingly blue eyes scrutinizing you now. What the hell could you say?

He moved slowly, like he was worried he would startle you, but soon he was in front of you and you couldn’t avoid his eyes any longer. There was a split in your lip and it was a bit bruised and puffy. That seed of anger in Daryl’s chest burst into a flame. “What happened?”

You pulled your eyes away from his, grateful that they were still hidden behind your sunglasses because you could feel humiliated tears burning in them. “I’m fine.”

Daryl wanted nothing more at that moment than to lift your chin and look you over, put his hands on you gently the only way someone should. But he stopped himself and sighed and shook his head, leaning back against the wall beside you and finally lighting his cigarette, casting sideways glances in your direction. “He put his fuckin’ hands on ya,” he said softly. There was a growl in his voice.

You gulped.

“What the hell happened?” he pressed again. “I knew somethin’ was off when I dropped ya off. I could fuckin’ feel it. I shoulda—”

“No, you did plenty,” you said, straightening up. “It’s not your problem.” You finally lifted your sunglasses and put them up on your head, turning to look at Daryl. Now he could see the swollen puffiness and bruising around your eye and cheekbone. He thought there was a shadow of a bruise over the bridge of your nose too. You’d clearly tried to lessen the appearance with makeup but it was still very obvious in the bright sunlight.

Daryl felt another burning wave of rage. “He done this to ya before?” he asked. Now he was wondering how many days you’d been at work with fresh bruises hidden beneath your clothes. If he had known—

You shook your head. “No. No… He—he started using again.” You sighed and leaned your back against the wall. “He was driving all crazy when we left the other night and we had a fight about it and he threw me off his bike and left me there. That’s why I was walking out there alone when you spotted me. I knew he’d started using immediately. I’d never seen him like. He was like a different person.” You ground the butt of your cigarette out against the brick wall and tossed the it into the dumpster a few paces away. “After you dropped me off I confronted him about it. I told him I didn’t want him around me or in my house. He denied it and then got angry… I—I just got out of there and ran to my neighbor’s and she called the cops.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to look at Daryl. You felt humiliated and ashamed of the whole thing. “They arrested him,” you said, scuffing a shoe on the ground. “So, that’s that.”

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Daryl drawled. “I wouldn’ta left ya there if I’d known—”

You let out a wry laugh and caught his blue eyes. “Yeah, well… I wouldn’t have had you leave me there if I’d known. But there was no way to know he was going to hit me and—” The sight of the bruises on your face sent a jolt of anger through Daryl every time he looked at them.

“Ya don’t deserve that. ‘M real sorry ya went through it,” he said again.

There was a softness and heavy regret in his voice and it caused your eyes to flicker up to meet his again. You nodded. “Thanks.”

“So, the prick is in jail?” Daryl asked. You nodded. “Good,” he said, tossing his cigarette down and grinding it under his boot. “And he best be glad for it ‘cuz if I see him around here I’mma kick his ass.”

You shook your head at him, a questioning look on your face.

“What?” he prompted.

Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe Daryl Dixon was taken. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “Probably should get back,” you said. Daryl pulled the door open for you and you both breezed back inside.

Things returned to normal for a few days after that. Same old regulars, same old drinks, life went on. But since Daryl’s obvious care and concern for you and Rachel’s comments you were suddenly noticing how you seemed to blush so easily around him… And every time you caught his blue eyes your heart jumped a little in your chest. Maybe it had always been that way and you were just allowing yourself to notice it. You’d always thought he was sweet and handsome, but nothing beyond that had been on your radar. Now that you were tuned in you seemed to be picking up on frequencies you hadn’t registered before.

One day you rushed into the bar, running late and obviously a bit harried. Charlie shot you a look as you tied your apron on. “I know! I know… I’m sorry,” you told him. “My car is on the fritz. It keeps overheating and—anyway, I’m sorry. I’m here,” you finished, grabbing your order pad and a pen.

Merle and Daryl were sitting in their usual places at the bar and you could feel the younger Dixon’s bright blue eyes on you. “Hey—I—I can take a look at it if ya want,” Daryl drawled, looking a little abashed that he was offering.

“Really?” you asked, perking up immediately. “That would be—amazing. Honestly, I can’t spare the cash at the moment to take it to a shop and—”

“‘S’no problem,” Daryl said, spinning his beer glass in his hand and ducking his head again. “Ya just say when.” You grinned widely at him and his heart fluttered.

“Thank you so much. Um, do you have any time tomorrow afternoon? I’m off work.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Sure.”

“Great. Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

Merle watched the exchange with some interest and then got that usual cocky smirk on his face. “Well, why don’t I come by too? While my baby brother services your car, I can help service somethin’ else,” he said, his tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip. He chuckled at the sassy and disapproving look on your face in response.

“Keep dreaming, Merle,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at him.

“Oh, I will, darlin’.”

The bar was busy that night, but you still found yourself talking with Daryl whenever you had a spare moment. He seemed to be a little less shy the more you spoke, and you found yourself smiling and laughing more than you could remember in a long time. And it was becoming very difficult to ignore those pesky butterflies in your stomach and that warmth in the apples of your cheeks as you talked with the handsome biker and caught his blue eyes.

That night you had trouble sleeping, and as you tossed and turned you couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl and were finding yourself anxious with anticipation for the next afternoon when he said he’d come by. He’s just being nice. Don’t read into it. You had this nasty habit of talking yourself out of thinking anyone was interested in you. Rachel was good at calling you out on it. You subconsciously bit your bottom lip and rolled to your other side. But maybe he really was interested in you… You were realizing you were definitely interested in him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The sound of a motorcycle rumbling up in front of your house and then going quiet brought you to the front window. You peeked out and saw Daryl climbing off his bike. Your heart jumped.

He watched you breeze out onto the front walk and the smile you were giving him was intoxicating. You shoved your hands into your back pockets a little nervously and met him on the driveway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said, shifting his weight anxiously from one hip to the other. You were just in jeans and a t-shirt but Daryl still thought you were the most beautiful goddamn thing he’d ever seen. “This the problem car?” he asked, jutting a finger the direction of your car.

You nodded. “Yep. I swear I can’t go two blocks without the damn thing overheating,” you explained.

“Hmm,” he hummed, walking around to the front end. “Pop the hood,” he murmured. You walked around and opened the driver’s side door and pulled the hood latch. Daryl lifted it and was immediately bent over the engine, already peering at this part and wiggling that. You came around to stand beside him and Daryl was finding it hard not to glance over at you.

“Thanks again for doing this,” you said. “You really didn’t need to offer.”

Daryl shrugged. “‘S’nothin. Can’t have ya breakin’ down. That ain’t safe,” he said.

You felt a rush of heat in your chest at his protectiveness. “Well, can I at least get you a beer or something while I totally take advantage of your free labor?”

Daryl turned and one corner of his mouth twitched up. Ugh. Your heart jumped at that boyish smile. “It’s yer day off. Don’t ya think ya’ve brought me enough drinks over the years? We ain’t at the bar.”

You laughed lightly and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It’s literally the least I can do.”

“Ya gonna have one? I ain’t a fan of drinkin’ alone,” he drawled. You nodded. “Alright. Sure.”

“Great,” you smiled. “I’ll be right back.” When you came back with two cold beers in hand, Daryl was leaning over the engine compartment in deep concentration. You allowed yourself to notice his broad shoulders and strong, toned arms and found yourself subconsciously biting your bottom lip again… Your face flushed. You practically needed to shake yourself out of it. “Here,” you said, offering him one of the beers.

He straightened up and accepted it with a nod. “Thanks.”

You leaned over the engine and peered down at what looked to you like an unknowable mass of metal. “Any luck yet?”

He took a swig of his beer and shrugged. “Well, your radiator seems fine. Coolant level is good, no signs of a leak. Might be a bad water pump. Or could be a few other things I’ll check.”

“I’m just hoping for something cheap and easy to fix,” you said with a laugh.

One corner of Daryl’s mouth twitched up again. He loved your laugh. He never got tired of hearing it. “Ya, I got my fingers crossed for ya too.”

“So, how’d you learn all this stuff? Your dad teach you or something?” you asked curiously.

“Nah. My old man pretty much only ever taught me what not to do,” he muttered, leaning on the edge of the engine compartment and ducking his head a bit.

You felt your heart sink. You sensed something vulnerable there, something painful. “Mmm. I see. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I—”

Daryl’s eyes immediately shot up to your face. “Nah, ya didn’t pry. S’alright.” His blue eyes were still fixed on your face and Daryl let himself drink in the sight of you in this new context. It felt so comfortable, so natural just talking with you, even when he neared things he never revealed to anyone. He wasn’t used to that, but he could get used to it. “Nah, I taught myself. Mostly trial and error. There’ve been times I’ve had a whole lotta nothin’ to do so,” he shrugged.

You nodded, your eyebrows lifting. “I’m impressed,” you said.

He shyly ducked his head again, hoping you wouldn’t see a red flush in his ears and cheeks as he felt them grow warm. “Pfft. It takes that little to impress ya?” he joked.

“No! Come on! Give yourself some credit! I mean it! I have absolutely no mechanical mind at all. As far as I’m concerned, an engine is a magic device that runs on belief,” you laughed shaking your head.

“Nah, c’mon. It ain’t that complicated. The engine just converts energy from the burning gasoline into work. That’s what turns the wheels. You’ve got the cylinders, right? See, your car here is a 4 cylinder. There’s a piston inside each of those cylinders that moves up and down and it’s connected with a rod to the crankshaft and that’s what turns the driveshaft which makes the wheels go. The pistons move down when oxygen and fuel are mixed and ignited. Cuz the gases expand, right?”

You stared at him blankly for a moment before a wide smile grew on your face and you laughed. “Listen, I understood everything you just said in principal but—” you shrugged vaguely, “if you asked me to explain it back in two minutes it’d already be out of my brain. Just let me be impressed with you,” you said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, an amused look on his face. You thought maybe his cheeks were even a little pink as he took a swig out of his beer and turned back toward your car. “Alrigh’. I’ll try,” he said. “Ain’t used to nobody being impressed with my dumb ass.”

“Hey! Dumb ass should never be applied to you!” you argued, giving him a stern look.

“Mmm.” He ducked his head again and tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at your words. “Your house, your rules, I guess,” he drawled.

You leaned over the engine next to him again. “That’s right. Now please fix my damn car,” you said with a laugh.

And Daryl did just that. By the time he was wiping his hands on a red rag that had been dangling out of his back pocket and putting the tools away, you were shocked to see that the afternoon was gone and it was now officially evening. You’d stayed on the driveway with him the whole time, talking easily about everything and nothing at all, not noticing how the hours slid by. “I don’t even know how to thank you for this,” you said as he shut the hood. The handsome biker shrugged.

“Ya don’t need to. S’nothin’.”

You sighed and gave him a look, shaking your head. “You really are way too modest.” Daryl ducked his head shyly and shrugged again. “Well, it’s getting late. Um, did you want to stay for dinner? I was gonna cook something.”

He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed it anxiously for a minute, hardly believing you’d just offered that. He wanted to say yes, but part of him talked back. She’s just bein’ nice. She feels obligated… “Nah, thas alright. Ya probably are sick of me by now,” he said finally.

You shook your head again. “Except I’m really not, Daryl.”

His eyes snapped over to your face and he hesitated again but his nerves got the best of him. “Nah, thanks but—I should go. Gotta check up on Merle, ya know?”

You nodded but couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “Sure. Okay. Well, hey, raincheck then. You can come over some other time. I’m a good cook,” you said. “I mean, when is the last time you had a homecooked meal?”

“Uhh—” He tried to remember if he’d ever had one…

“That’s too long,” you said. “You just say when and we’ll make it happen.” You gulped and touched him lightly on the arm. His blue eyes left your face and flickered down to the point of contact between the two of you. It was electrifying and when your fingers slipped from him, he really wished they wouldn’t. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Daryl, thanks again. I really mean it. Now I won’t piss Charlie off tomorrow. I’ll actually be on time again.”

“Yeah. No problem. I’ll see ya,” he said, gathering the small bag of tools he’d brought over.

You grinned at him and felt your cheeks color. “I hope so,” you said. He gave you a somewhat baffled look and shyly murmured another goodbye. You watched as he climbed on his bike and sped away. The last thing you caught sight of were the angel wings on the back of his jacket and you thought of how wonderfully fitting that was. Even if Rachel was wrong and Daryl wasn’t taken with you, you were starting to realize you were now completely taken with him. And you didn’t know how you hadn’t seen it before.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next day at work started off insanely busy. Customers seemed to be coming in earlier than usual and you were slammed far sooner than you expected with food and drink orders. But after an initial rush, things slowed way down, and that was about the time that the Dixon brothers wandered in and took their usual seats at the bar.

Daryl looked for you immediately out of habit as he walked in and was surprised to meet your eyes which were already on him. You broke into a small smile and Daryl’s heart jumped. As soon as you could, you came over to say hello.

“Hi,” you said with an even wider grin, leaning on the bar top.

“Hey,” Daryl returned.

Merle was looking between the two of you, noting the smiles and intense eye contact. He laughed. “You two do more than fixin’ a car yesterday or what? Huh?” He nudged his elbow into Daryl hard, whose jaw clenched. The younger Dixon gave his older brother a look which could properly be described as a death glare.

“Shut the fuck up, Merle,” Daryl growled.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you said to Merle, straightening up, shooting him a smirk.

“Ahh, come on. I’m just teasing you. I know my baby brother ain’t really man enough to—”

“You know, I think I know what you were about to say and I’m gonna tell you I have a very hard time believing that to be true,” you interrupted, leaning toward Merle over the counter, your voice taking on a tone that was soft but dangerous. “I think you might need to reevaluate who the real man is between the two of you.” You straightened up and shot Daryl a warm look that made his throat constrict. “Be nice,” you scolded Merle, “or I’ll ignore you for good. You’ll be stuck listening to nothing but Charlie’s same stupid jokes.”

Daryl watched in disbelief as you breezed away across the bar and he tried to gulp at the tightness in his throat.

Merle was staring after you too, obviously looking you up and down, and he let out a low whistle. “She’s way too good for you, little brother.”

Daryl nervously ran his tongue over his bottom lip and simply let out a hum of acknowledgement. Don’t I fucking know it.

Since things were so slow, you had plenty of time to chat with Daryl at the bar. Merle eventually wandered away to play some noisy rounds of pool with some fellow bikers and you were glad for his absence. Daryl was so much more relaxed without his brother sitting beside him and making snide or sarcastic comments…

“How are ya doin’?” Daryl asked pointedly. “I mean since… ya know, that night. Ya gotta go to court?”

You avoided his eyes now, feeling that same wave of shame cresting again as you thought about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend and what he’d done to you. “Not sure yet,” you said. “I think the lawyers are still doing their legal maneuvering. Depends on if he pleads guilty or not.”

Daryl felt suddenly anxious about broaching such a sensitive topic with you. Yeah, that’s what she wants to think about, dumbass. “‘M sorry. I shouldn’ta asked. Ain’t none of my business,” he said urgently.

“No! No, it’s okay! I, umm, I appreciate it actually… It’s—I’m okay,” you said. “I feel safe knowing he’s in jail.”

“Mm,” Daryl agreed with a nod. “They get… evidence? He gonna stay there ya think?” He was seized by a sudden and unexplainable intense worry. He knew plenty of asshole men like your ex and most of them didn’t give up easily and they didn’t take any perceived slight lying down.

“Well, I had to go to the police station afterwards and give a statement. They took pictures of everything. And I went to the hospital, so they have the reports…” You trailed off for a moment. “They got statements from my neighbor who called 9-1-1.”

Daryl nodded. “If ya ever need anything, ya just gotta ask,” he said seriously.

He watched the worry on your face soften as you nodded. “Thanks, Daryl.” God, he loved the sound of his name leaving your lips.

Your shift was over and you gathered up your purse from the back and dropped off your apron and order pad behind the bar, saying goodbye to Charlie. Daryl was still sitting up at the bar and Merle was playing pool, so you were glad to have a brief exchange with the handsome biker again without his obnoxious older brother around. “Well, I’m exhausted,” you said. “At least I can go out to my car and know it’ll get me home without a problem now.”

Daryl nodded. “Can’t have ya broken down somewhere this time of night. ‘Specially by yourself.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see ya, Daryl. And I mean it about that homecooked meal!” you said with a smile.

He nudged his nose up in a nod and watched you disappear through the door into the parking lot. He raised a finger to the bartender. “Gimme a double whiskey.”

Charlie was just sliding the drink over when Daryl thought he heard something from the direction of the door and he spun on his stool. It looked like someone had partially opened it, but nobody came in and nobody had gone out and the door slammed closed. He stared at it intensely for a moment, unsure why the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing on end. Probably just the wind or something…

It was just then that he heard a scream from outside in the parking lot and Daryl was immediately on his feet and out the door. He saw red as he took in the scene. Your fucking douchebag, abusive ex was trying to force you into a car and you were struggling with him, fighting as hard as you could. Your purse was on the ground beside your vehicle a distance away and Daryl could see drag marks in the gravel where he’d obviously surprised you and dragged you away. He had a firm grip on your upper arm and with the other hand had a fistful of your hair. You were struggling with everything you had, yelling and fighting, but he was a lot bigger than you. It was a battle you would have lost, despite your tenacity.

But Daryl was a blur of action. Rushing him, he swung a fist and punched him hard across the face. You fell hard to the ground as his grip on you disappeared completely. You scrambled up and out of the way as best you could, but you were dazed and having trouble breathing through your panic. You suddenly realized that there were terrified tears pouring down your face. You were trembling.

Daryl was pulling Mark up by the front of his jacket and slammed his fist into his face again. Your ex dropped to the ground hard. He was still on the ground when he kicked Daryl in the shin, knocking him off balance. Daryl landed on his back in the dirt. “Mark, stop!” you screamed. You watched in horror as Mark pulled out a knife, the same one he’d told you he had when he jumped you, the same one you had briefly felt in the small of your back as he demanded compliance. Mark started moving toward Daryl’s prone figure. You felt your face blanche completely. But Daryl was faster and a better fighter and he was back on his feet in no time, keeping clear of the knife as Mark swiped toward him with it. Charlie and the other bar patrons had come out to see what was happening and the bartender had rushed back inside and was now on the phone with 9-1-1. You were screaming at Mark, trying desperately to reason with him, but he might as well have been totally deaf for all the attention he paid you.

Daryl took an opportunity and knocked him back on his ass again with a good punch and then kicked the knife out of his hand. It skidded away on the gravel and you breathed some small sigh of relief. Daryl landed over him and was punching him repeatedly in the face as police lights flashed brighter and sirens droned louder. The cops had arrived. “Daryl!” You rushed forward. “Daryl, stop! It’s okay!” You grabbed his shoulder and he immediately froze, fist cocked back, knuckles bloodied, chest heaving. Another moment and there were cops rushing over and pulling him away. One officer immediately led you a short distance away and you watched helplessly as both Daryl and Mark were put in handcuffs and then taken away in squad cars practically before you registered what was happening. “Wait—he didn’t—No, it was Mark. He—Daryl was protecting me! He—he tried to take me and—" You were trying to explain, trying to get the words out but it was all jumbled and rushed.

“Ma’am, slow down. Take a breath! Slow down! Okay. It’s okay,” the officer coached you.

“It wasn’t his fault!” you said urgently. Just then an ambulance pulled up and the EMTs jumped out. They raced over to you and you could tell by the looks on their faces that you must be a mess, red-faced and crying. You had no idea that you were bleeding from a laceration in your forehead where Mark had bashed your head into the car as he tried to force you inside. You had no idea that your neck looked raw and red, already revealing broken blood vessels and the obvious start of bruising from his hands around your throat. There was almost a visible hand impression on your upper arm where he’d grabbed you. “You—you took both of them but Daryl didn’t—”

The officer and the EMTs continued trying to calm you down. You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that most of the patrons had skipped out as soon as they’d heard the sirens, or perhaps as soon as Charlie had run for the phone. There were only a couple left and of course Charlie as well being questioned. You rounded on the cop again. “Just take me down to the station! I’ll give you a statement and then—then you have to let Daryl go! He didn’t do anything wrong. He saved me,” you gasped, the full weight of what had happened still not hitting you.

“Ma’am, you need stitches,” one of the EMTs told you gently. “Come on. We need to go to the hospital.” His partner pushed the cop back who was intent only on questioning you.

It was like all of a sudden, the adrenaline in your bloodstream vanished and you were exhausted and the pain started to set in. You glanced back over your shoulder and met Charlie’s eyes, he nodded and gave you a worried look before you turned back to the cop and the EMTs. “My—my purse is—” you gestured to where it was lying beside your car.

“We’ll have someone bring it to you after we get photographs, okay?” the cop said. You allowed yourself to be guided into the ambulance, shock starting to set in.

The doctors in the ER wouldn’t let the police question you while they patched you up and you were grateful for that. Besides, there was no chance of what had happened fading in your memory. To the contrary, every bit of it was burned in your mind despite how fast it had all happened. But you needed a goddamn minute to process it. He was out. How the fuck was he out of jail? And why the fuck hadn’t anyone warned you? You’d just stopped beside your car, ready to put the key in the lock when something hit you hard in the head from behind and you remembered dropping to your knees, stunned and with black vision. You’d heard his voice and made a break for the door into the bar. You’d actually gotten your hand on the handle and pushed but you were grabbed and pulled back violently. And then you’d just fought as hard as you could, tooth and nail. You knew if you got into that car, there was a good chance you were going to end up dead. He wasn’t in his right mind.

It was hard to believe this was the same Mark you’d been in a relationship with. He’d never been the least bit violent toward you, but the drugs… as soon as he started using again, he was a different person. But even then, even after he’d beat you up, you never would have expected this.

Once you’d been treated and released at the hospital, you found yourself sitting in the police station with a little Styrofoam cup of tea clutched between your hands, and some cop’s coat draped around your shoulders. The interview room was uncomfortably cold, but the numbness of shock and disbelief superseded the sensation of the chill air, though you were vaguely aware that you were shivering.

A detective came in and sat across from you at the little table and you looked up at him as he settled into his chair. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, readying his pen over his notepad. “I’m Detective Peters,” he said, checking his watch. “It is Thursday, April 28th, and 10 minutes past 11.” You’d given a statement just days earlier. You knew how this worked. You knew he was marking the date and time for the recording that the little, inconspicuous camera up in the corner was taking. “Alright, Y/N. I’m really sorry to see you again so soon under these circumstances.” He was the detective who was handling your domestic violence case too.

“Yeah, well, so am I,” you said, gritting your teeth a little. The numbness receded a little and was replaced by anger. “How the fuck is it that he was out of jail? He tried to kill me. How was he out? And why didn’t anyone contact me?” you demanded.

“He bonded out. And, yes, I’m sorry… we should have notified you. But we never considered him to be this much of a danger.”

“You never considered him to be this much of a danger?” you repeated incredulously. “We discussed a protection order. I don’t think that implies that everything is peachy.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He paused. “But we need to go over everything that happened tonight and get a statement from you.”

“I’ve already been questioned three times,” you said, exhausted and exasperated. “Why did you arrest Daryl? He saved me. He’s the reason I’m sitting here right now instead of being… I don’t know, maybe dead in a ditch somewhere. Are you still holding him? Is he still here?”

“It was chaos when the officers got there. We need to get everyone’s statements to sort this all out, okay? We didn’t know who was the aggressor or—”

You sighed heavily and shook your head. “Fine. Let’s just do the statement.” You walked him through everything that had happened and consented to have more pictures taken of your injuries; the laceration on your scalp, the bruises around your neck, the handprint on your arm, the scrapes and bruises and cuts on your knees. By the end of it you were so tired you weren’t seeing straight, but the detective stood up and you glanced up when you sensed he was looking down at you.

“Wait here just a few more minutes. I’ll be back,” he said. He left you alone in that little room again and you slumped forward, resting your head on your arms at the little table, completely spent and hurting all over. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when Detective Peters came back in.

“Y/N? Follow me,” he said. You obeyed and walked blindly after him through the station until he unlocked a heavy metal door and pushed through into a room lined with a couple holding cells.

You perked up and breezed past him, scanning the room for Daryl immediately. He jumped up from where he’d been slumped on a metal bench in one of the cells as you rushed over to him. He met you at the bars. “Are you okay?” you asked him urgently. You ignored the twinge in your forehead from your stitches as you furrowed your brow.

“Me? Are ya kiddin’?” he drawled, peering down at you with nothing but concern. “Are you?” His stomach twisted at the sight of your injuries.

You knew you couldn’t get any words out through the bubble of emotion caught in your throat so you only nodded. The clinking of keys behind you drew your attention and you stepped back as Detective Peters moved forward. He slid a key into the heavy lock and turned it, sliding the cell open and gesturing to Daryl that he could exit.

“I’m sorry about throwing you in here,” the detective said. “Everything in your statements matches up, so you’re free to go, with my thanks.” He extended a hand toward Daryl who eyed it with distaste for a moment.

“I don’t want yer thanks. I want ya to do a goddamn better job. This was too fuckin’ close. Never shoulda happened,” he spat. The detective looked regretful and nodded, dropping his hand back to his side.

“Daryl,” you said softly, gently grabbing his arm, trying to reroute the conversation. You were just grateful that he was no longer in a cell. Daryl’s eyes met yours and his expression softened immediately.

Detective Peters sighed. “I’ve got one of my guys waiting to drive you both home. Y/N, they have your items for you up front too. Again… I’m really sorry. But I can assure you that Mark won’t be getting out anytime soon after this.”

“The fuck is wrong with the damn laws? Girl almost had to die before ya’ll got up off your asses,” Daryl spat angrily again. You gently touched his arm again and he relaxed some, glancing down at you and sighing.

As you were settling into the squad car to be driven home, Daryl felt your eyes on his face and he glanced over and took in the wide-eyed expression underneath the fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted you.

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Could I—I’ve got no right to ask you for anything after what you’ve already done but… could I ask you for another favor?” you said quietly.

Daryl stared back at you intently, feeling suddenly nervous under your eyes. If you’d asked him for the moon at that moment, he would have fucking figured out how to give it to you. He nodded. “Course.”

You wrung your hands nervously. “I’d feel better if—if you’d stay at my place tonight. I know it isn’t rational and that he’s—he’s locked up but I’d feel safer. But if that’s too much to ask I completely understand. You’ve already done more than enough and I—”

“Ain’t no problem. I’ll stay,” he said simply. You thought of him as safety. He didn’t think anyone in his life had ever seen him that way.

You felt a wave of relief and it was visible on your face. You shut your eyes briefly, again feeling beyond exhausted and hurting almost head to toe. “Thank you,” you breathed. “Thank you.”

Daryl nodded and ripped his eyes away from you. You leaned forward and gave your address to the cop and in no time you were both climbing out at the end of your driveway.

You stood at the front door and dug your keys out of your purse. Daryl noticed how much you were shaking as you tried to fit the key into the lock and his face contorted with concern. “Here,” he said gently, his hand enclosing over yours and taking the key from you before slotting it into the lock. His heart jumped at the contact and he did his best to ignore it. Now wasn’t the damn time.

“Thanks,” you murmured, accepting the keys from him again and pushing inside ahead of him.

Daryl softly shut and locked the door behind the two of you and stood a little awkwardly on the front mat. You moved stiffly across the front room and into the kitchen, clicking on the light. Daryl heard you shifting some things around before you returned with a cloth in one hand and a small bag of ice in the other.

You nudged your head toward the couch and he anxiously chewed on his bottom lip but obeyed and took a seat. You sank down beside him, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion, but he knew better than to argue as you pulled his hand over toward you and dabbed at the dried blood across his knuckles. They were split and puffy from their repeated connection with that prick’s face. Worth it. When you were satisfied that they were cleaned up enough, you laid the cloth and then the ice across them and glanced up at his face.

There seemed to be something you wanted to say, something in your expression that took Daryl aback, but before he could decode it, it vanished and you just looked defeated and weary. Daryl swallowed his nerves and nodded at you. “Go on to bed. I’ll be right here all night,” he said.

You gave him another long look before nodding and climbing to your feet with no small amount of effort. “Thank you,” you said, and you hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper, but it did. He only nodded back before ducking his head and avoiding your gaze, feeling a little overwhelmed. You managed to trudge to your bedroom and practically poured yourself into bed, still in all your clothes. Feeling safe, knowing Daryl was out on the couch, you sank into a heavy sleep almost immediately.

The next morning you awoke early with the birds, stiff and aching. You clutched a hand to your head, wincing when it landed flush onto the stitches in your forehead. “Fuck,” you muttered, climbing out of bed. You went straight for the bathroom and took some painkillers, pausing to run a comb through your hair and wash your face. You tenderly touched the bruises on your neck and your arm and frowned. You looked a proper mess… You felt a wave of shame and embarrassment before struggling to shove those feelings down. You changed, feeling a little better, and quietly moving through the house, heading for the kitchen and the coffee pot.

Daryl was laid out on the couch, still fast asleep and your heart jumped at the sight of him there. He had his head resting on one of the throw pillows and was stretched out, legs crossed at the ankles, hands resting on his stomach. You couldn’t help but smile at how boyish he looked asleep and there was a wash of heat running through you as you finally tore your eyes away and padded softly into the kitchen.

Coffee brewing, you pulled ingredients out of the fridge and went about making some breakfast. In the other room, Daryl woke up to the sound of you cooking and the smell of bacon. He sat up and shifted on the couch, stretching and feeling a little self-conscious that you had obviously walked through and seen him asleep. He hastily ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth down any craziness that might be going on.

Your voice from the doorway into the kitchen drew his eyes. “Hey. Morning.”

You had a goddamn smile for him. Despite what you’d gone through the previous night, you were smiling. At him.

“Hey,” he returned. “Ya get some sleep?”

You nodded and stepped out into the living room, a mug in your hand. “I did.” You were sure your face was coloring pink. “Thanks for staying. Um, do you drink coffee?” you asked, gesturing with the cup in your hands.

He nodded. “Sure,” he said, climbing to his feet. You met him halfway and pushed the mug into his hands. The ceramic was warm and Daryl looked down at the spirals of steam curling away from the surface.

You disappeared for a moment and returned with your own mug. “I’ve got breakfast cooking if you’re hungry,” you said, sinking down onto the now empty couch. Daryl gulped and took a spot at the other end from you.

You took a sip, annoyed at how fast your heart was racing as you looked at the handsome biker on the other end of your couch. “How’s your hand?” you asked him.

He pulled it off the mug and flexed and curled his fingers a few times. It was deeply bruised and the knuckles were definitely still swollen. “S’fine,” he drawled. In truth it hurt, but far less than looking at what was left on your skin from what you’d endured. “How are ya?” A shadow darkened his face for a moment with worry.

You nodded a little hesitantly. “I’ll be okay. Took some painkillers so…”

Daryl pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously for a moment. “‘M real sorry any of this happened to ya. Ya don’t deserve that.”

You gulped nervously. “Thanks…” You gave him another little smile, this one a little sad, but it seemed like your face brightened quickly again as you looked at him. He ducked his head.

In truth, Daryl couldn’t believe this was real. He’d pined after you for years, subsisting purely on a quick smile here and a word there as you simply did your job. If someone had told him a month earlier that he’d be sitting your house with you sipping coffee he would have thought they were batshit crazy. This was a long way from waking up in that dingy, smoky motel room with Merle bitching about needing another fix even before he could throw the blankets off. He’d never dared to think he would have anything like this, anything nice and normal. Not that he really had it… But even if this was a temporary, singular event it was doing something like filling him up and showing him that life wasn’t all just shit.

You were studying him as he seemed lost in thought, occasionally taking a sip of coffee, and you watched some anxiety cross his face. “C’mon and eat something with me. It’s the least I can do,” you said, nudging your head in the direction of the kitchen. Daryl glanced up and nudged his nose up in a nod before following you in.

You grinned a few minutes later as you sat across from each other at your little kitchen table and Daryl ate ravenously. He was suddenly self-conscious as he realized you were staring at him and he hastily wiped his mouth on his sleeve, but you only leaned your chin on your hand and continued looking at him with that little smile on your lips. It didn’t seem to belong there when you had fresh stitches and bruises. “Hmm?” he prompted, sensing there was something on your mind.

You shrugged and finally looked back down at your own plate. “Nothing. This is—this is nice,” you said.

Daryl gulped. “What is?”

“I don’t know. Just… this. Breakfast with you.”

Daryl’s heart jumped but he nodded in agreement, trying his hardest not to give in to the thoughts of self-doubt and inadequacy. It was nice. It was more than nice. He felt like he had fallen through a wormhole into an alternate reality.

You set your mug down and gave him a long look. “I’m a little surprised you weren’t scared away,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t blame you if you had wanted to just distance yourself from the girl with the psycho ex… Go back to me just being your waitress at the bar.” You twirled your mug in your hands, looking anywhere but at him.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he studied your somewhat ashamed expression. “Nah. None of this is your fault. And—anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

Your eyes shot up to his face and this time his blue eyes held yours steadily. You didn’t know inside he was reeling. The atmosphere between the two of you felt suddenly thick and heavy, charged with electricity and hopeful expectations. Right when you were about to say something, or maybe do something the phone rang and you were startled out of that bubble of tension. You jumped a little and laughed abashedly before going to answer it.

Daryl let out a breath he hadn’t been holding and climbed to his feet, grabbing the dishes and piling them into the sink simply for something to do while you were on the phone. It was a quick call and when you turned around Daryl was rubbing a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. “Well, thanks for breakfast. I should probably get goin. Get outta yer hair’,” he drawled. He was sure you’d had enough of him by now.

“Oh,” you said. Wait, did that sound like disappointment?

Daryl gulped. “Ya should rest today. Take it easy,” he said. You nodded and wrung your hands a little nervously.

“I’ll try,” you said. You followed him out into the front room and watched as he pulled the door open and stepped outside, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “Thanks again. For… saving my life and staying and…” you trailed off.

Daryl was very aware that his heart was racing and that there suddenly seemed to be an expanding empty space between his lungs as he got ready to walk down your steps. “Yeah, uhh… don’t mention it. I’ll see ya.”

You gave him one final small smile and he turned away, giving you a clear view of the wings on the back of his vest. Something about the sight of those jolted you out of your hesitation and into action. You squeezed your eyes shut and swore under your breath, stepping out onto the stairs and touching his shoulder.

Daryl turned back in surprise and saw you looking a little wide-eyed and breathless. “Ya alright?”

You gulped down your nerves and looped your arms around his neck, your eyes closing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, one of your hands moving to clasp his face, feeling the angles of his jaw and the stubble on his skin. It was soft and sweet, but your nerves got the better of you and you pulled back, anxious to take in his expression. He was on the step below you so his blue eyes were even with yours and you thought they were a little searching or maybe a little stunned.

His hands were suddenly on your waist, and it made him flush with heat, his eyes flickering between yours. His heart was pounding so hard and so fast he was worried you’d hear it. “Uhh… are ya sure this is a good idea right now?” he asked in that sweet southern drawl of his.

He watched a faint smile cross your lips and you nodded, your arms around his neck still. “Yeah. Best idea I’ve had in a long time.”

Daryl didn’t need any more encouragement. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back and pulled you into him while the other floated to clasp your face and tangle into your hair. Your lips crashed together, needy and sweet at first but building in heat as you both realized how long you had wanted this and how much better it was than you had even hoped. You smiled into his lips and pulled him more tightly into you, pressing your body against his. Daryl’s lips softened against yours and his hand smoothed through your hair to the nape of your neck as you pulled back just enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“Come back inside,” you breathed, running your fingers through his hair.

His eyes closed at the sensation and he nervously licked his lips. “If ya want me to.” He needed to hear it for it to be true, for this to be real.

You grinned at him, biting your bottom lip. “I want you to. Daryl, I—I wanted to kiss you last night. As soon as you were out of that stupid jail cell, but… I didn’t want you to think I was only doing it because I was—scared or concussed or something… So, come back inside and spend the day with me... Please?”

His expression softened and his lips curved in a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Alright,” he said, understated for the wild happiness and disbelief he was truly feeling. You were solid underneath his hands. His palm was flush to your lower back and you were leaning into him. “Anythin’ ya want.”

You shook your head at him and gave him a fond look. “Just you.”

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

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[harrystyleseditsx]

If you need me

SUMMARY: A one shot of where y/n experiences something that reminds her of her traumatic past and Harry’s 5000 miles away

based on the song If you need by julia micheals

WARNING: Angst with fluff :) 

pairing: Harry Styles x uni y/n 

wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Welcome to my first fic, I needed to write something to get in the flow to write my 2000 word story so here it is :)) ily guys <3 (also would you prefer y/n or an oc, please let me know!!)

Y/N was very happy about how her morning had been going.

She had woken up early, worked out and made her favorite breakfast. She had also gotten herself some flowers to celebrate the fact that she had submitted her 10 page essay early. The only thing that would make her morning better would be face timing harry but she knew it was 1 pm here meaning it would be 9 pm in London where Harry was and he had a concert to perform. She threw on one of Harry’s treat people with kindness hoodies over her sundress as she headed to the library that would often get chilly or she was just always cold as harry often teased her. She smiled as she remembered harry telling she would overheat if she continued to wear zip ups and pile blankets on herself even during summers. 

She had by now almost reached the library when she suddenly bumped into someone causing the other person to drop some of their stuff. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention-” it felt as if the words were stuck in her throat as she glanced at who she bumped into. 

“Oh hi Y/N” Asher taunted, her ex. She hadn’t seen him since the break up when he told her that he needed space and took off to France only to send her the infamous break up text. And, here he was 6 months later, looking the every bit same. She felt a feeling of anxiety creeping up on her as she started playing with her fingers trying to stop when she saw Asher’s eyes drop to her hands. 

“Are you nervous y/n? Always played with your fingers when you were” he said with a hint of smugness, as he reached his hand forward trying to grasp hers. She immediately pulled back, crossing them against her chest as she took a deep breath. 

“What are you doing here Asher? Aren’t you supposed to be in France?” she snapped at him, her nervousness quickly turning into anger. Asher raised an eyebrow as if surprised at her response. 

“Been keeping tabs on me?” he smirked. “Well forgive me if I wanted to know where my boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend ran off too on our 1 year anniversary” she scoffed.

“Finally grew a backbone y/n?” he drawled looking her up and down. Y/N had never felt the urge to pull someone’s eyeballs out more than she did now. She found herself thinking what she ever saw in this piece of shit. She snapped back to reality as she heard him droning about something.

“..you need me, so I’ll take you back-” he was in interrupted as y/n threw her head back laughing. When she looked at him again, he had an annoyed look on his face. “I need you? Well, I’d like to inform you that you’re wrong again. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone. I managed myself when you left and I’m doing so now too. So, you can see yourself out of my life again” she reiterated. Asher now looked furious, he lunged forward and grabbed her by her wrists as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Is all this attitude because of her famous singer boyfriend? Yes, I know all about him. Is he telling you that you’re beautiful? or that you’re important? because news flash, you’re not y/n. You’re worthless, stupid, ugly and you’ll be nothing without me. You’re a whore” he growled. Y/N felt herself flinch as she heard his words before she composed herself and kicked him in the balls. His grip on her wrists loosened giving her the perfect opportunity to attack. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and jerked it forward, raising her knee and smashed his face against it and then shoved him backwards. She heard Asher yelp in pain as blood gushed out of his. One of his hands was on his dick while other on his nose. She felt a sense of pride and satisfaction rush through her as she looked at him. 

"You bitch, you broke my nose. You'll pay for this" Asher yelled at her. She decided it was best to kick him one more time for good measure and she did, smiling as he groaned in pain. "No, you listen to me. If you ever come near me again or try to hurt me I will fuck up your life and I'll get my famous singer boyfriend to help too" y/n taunted as she turned out to head back to her apartment, she had never been more glad to have her apartment be a 5 minute walk from campus. The whole incident had taken a huge toll on her.

She locked her room as soon as she entered it, leaning against the door as she slowly sank to the floor. She took a deep breath before the sobs broke out. Her entire body was shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to feel as if she wasn't alone in the world. Y/N picked up her phone to send a text to harry but she try made her feel even more shitty. What if he realized she wasn't worth it, what if he had enough of her breakdowns. She pressed her nails into her palm, hitting herself to try to stop herself from feeling too much. She had come so far and now all it took was one interaction for everything to come crumbling down.

//

She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that but her phone rang, she looked at the clock to see it flashing 5 pm. Realizing that it must be harry on the phone, she got up and rushed to the bathroom, quickly washing her face, she laid down on the bed so he could only see half of her face and then accepted his call.

Harry appeared on the screen all smiley and sweaty. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. All she wanted to do was hug him. "Finally picked up, huh? I thought y'were gonna leave me hangin' lovie" he teased her. "I'm sorry, my phone was on silent" she said softly.

Harry realised the change in her demeanor, his smile turning into a frown. "Y'alright honey? Not even showin' me y'pretty face" he said to her. She tried to smile as she moved the camera a bit so he could see more of her face. "I'm just tired H" she whispered. Harry had been moving around, probably trying to find a quieter area. He shut the door behind him as he entered what looked like his dressing room.

"Have y'been cryin' y/n?" he questioned as he saw her red nose and faint traces of year marks on her cheeks. y/n knew there was no point in lying because it was pretty obvious. "Yeah, I didn't do very well in one of the assignments my economics professor had assigned but I'm fine now" she told him adding a smile in the end to make it more believable and maybe Harry would have believed her had he not caught a glimpse of the nasty bruise on wrist as the sleeve of her (his) hoodie slipped down when she was pulled the hood up. Harry was furious and the visible anger on his face made y/n want to curl up.

"What the fuck is that y/n?" he questioned furiously. "What are you talking about? "y/n replied looking genuinely confused. "The fucking bruise on your wrist” harry snapped, by now he had lost all his patience. No one gets to hurt his lovie. 

Y/N was at a loss, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to worry about her but she couldn’t come up with anything to say. “Asher came back, he cornered me and when I tried to go, he grabbed my wrists” she mumbled, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. She dare not glance his way, afraid of his reaction. After a minute of silence, Y/N glanced at her phone only to find the screen to be blank. Had he hung up on her? She stared at the blank screen of her phone in disbelief. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. Opening her gallery, she started scrolling through the numerous photos and videos of her and harry. It was at this time that she was grateful with her obsession of taking pictures and photos. A few tears escaped her eyes as she realized how much she missed him and how he probably didn’t want to talk to her ever. Was he going to break up with her? Y/N’s heart clenched at that thought, she put on harry’s playlist on her spotify and laid there. 

//

She must have fallen asleep because she woke up to the sound of pots clanging. Her heart sped up, no one besides her and harry had the key to her apartment and harry wouldn’t- 

She threw the blanket covering her aside (which had not been there before) and rushed to the kitchen. And sure enough there he was, her boyfriend, with his back facing her. Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes, he came here for her. Harry  turned around to see her standing in the entryway of the kitchen, crying. He reached her in three quick strides, pulling her in a hug. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, fearing he might disappear. Harry pulled back after a few minutes, cupping her face in his hands he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. 

“Gonna properly tell m’what happened now bubs?” he urged. Unable to say anything at that moment Y/N just nodded. Grabbing her hand, Harry led her to the sofa, grabbing her by the waist and seating her on his lap. He patiently waited her to start talking. For a while Y/n just played with his hair, then she took a deep breath and told him everything that happened. She could feel Harry’s grip tightening on her hips, not to the extent that it was painful, when she told him what Asher had said to her. 

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him” Harry cursed when she had finished. “I already did some damage” Y/N told him, smirking as she remembered Asher’s face. Harry looked at her questioningly, “I might have kicked him in the balls and broken his nose and added another kick for good measure” she admitted. Harry grinned, “that’s m’girl” he said proudly, pulling her in for a kiss. They sat like that for a while with Harry telling her about tour and she filled him in with other things that she had forgotten when they had their facetime sessions.

Y/N told him that she wanted to report Asher, in case he ever tried to pull shit like this again. Harry not only told her but also showed her how proud he was of her, how brave she’d been and how much he loved her in multiple ways. 

//

The next day they headed to the dean’s office, where Y/N saw two officers sitting outside. Luckily there were several camera’s in the hallway where Asher had cornered Y/N, so by noon, with all the available proof, she’d gotten a restraining order against Asher. If her were to come within a distance of 6ft with her, he’d serve jail time. As they left the dean’s office, Y/N saw Asher standing , she could feel harry tensing up, so when Asher looked Y/N up and down and smirked, Harry lunged forward punching him in his already swollen nose. Asher yelped in pain, he tried to fight Harry back but by now the officers had restrained him, taking him away. 

Back at the apartment, Y/N tended to Harry’s bruised knuckles as she felt a hollowness knowing he’d be leaving soon. By the look on her face, Harry knew what she was thinking about, he took the cotton swab from her hands, placing it on the table before he kissed her. 

“I’ll be back soon, it’s only a matter of two months now and by then you’ll  graduate and I’ll be done with tour and we can  have everyday to ourselves” harry told her, wiggling his eyebrows. She lightly smacked his chest, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I know, It’s just that sometimes I miss you” she commented. “Only sometimes?” Harry pretended to be offended, “Well a bit more than sometimes” she retorted. “Just a bit more? I miss you so much, it hurts” he admitted. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she pulled him in a hug. “I love you Harry” she whispered and heard him softly whisper I love you too sweetheart. 

That evening Y/n drove him to the airport, they knew they couldn’t outside for long so Harry pulled her in a kiss before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Promise me you’ll tell me anything that happens, I don’t care if it’s just a paper cut or not. Just don’t hide things from me, If when you need me I'll be there" he blurted. “I promise” she said firmly, showing him she was serious. She didn’t want him to worry but he’d eventually know something was up and it was better to sort things out. He kissed her again before he went in the airport. She stood there until he was no longer in her sight before she sat in her car and started driving off. 

Her phone chimed, picking it up she saw that Harry had sent her a image. It was a very poorly drawn graphic of a guy lying on the floor with a crooked nose and blood around him that she assumed was Asher and a girl stood over him wearing a superhero cape. He had written, ‘my hero’. She smiled fondly before sending him a picture of her reaction as she increased the volume of her radio and driving off. Soon. 

. 

This is my first time writing a harry fic/blurb. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I’ve turned on the asks (I didn’t know they were off) so you can send in your requests!! Thank you :))

[burnedbyshoto]

arrière-pensée

— When you start a new job, you never thought you would come face with Most Wanted Ground Zero who decides that you’re going to help him make a point.

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, robbery kink, consented noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, spanking, slight gunplay, sadist bakugou, machoist reader, blow job, character death, murder, blood, gun violence, knife violence

word count: 8,550

a/n: literally fuck me. I super fucking liked this prompt had clearly had too much fun because this was not supposed to be a long fic. anyways, I hope you like the idea of big bad evil bakugou fucking you to make a point. also, just trust me on the details on y/n I make, please. make sure to comment on all fics you enjoy, all authors love them! carefully read the warnings!!!!

kinktober day 4 main kink: robbery kink

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“As for our latest news, the city of Chiba has decided to close the current twelve-month reigning search for the missing victim of the Chiba Bank robberies. However, known criminal known only by his alias Ground Zero who has been on our countries most wanted list on account of robberies, murder, and rape is still on the ru—”

Click.

You frowned as you threw the TV remote onto the bed, unease sitting on your stomach.

Pre-work jitters were a normal thing, right?

You looked at the full-length mirror in front of you, your finger pressed against a black pencil skirt, trailing up to brush against the white silk shirt you wore. Today is a special day, you reminded yourself as you lined closer to the mirror. Your hand grabbing the dark red lipstick you owned and as smoothly as you could, smoothed the cream over your lips.

The first day working at the esteemed Yaoyorozu Banking Inc., the world's most influential and wealthiest bank. Getting an interview at the prestigious bank had been a once in a lifetime opportunity, your incredible resume and references without a doubt getting your foot in the door to simply be a bank teller. 

Yes, to simply be a bank teller, you had to know at least three languages (you knew English, Japanese, Mandarin, and Spanish), had to know someone with affiliations to either the Yaoyorozu family or the hiring team (your number one reference was none other than the CEO and Founders daughter), and have a certain intellect (there was an admittance test to even qualify to fill out a job application). It had been a rather challenging admittance for you, especially as they had only been one job opening. Frankly, you think your only reason for winning the spot was due to Yaoyorozu Momo’s hand.

Still, it mattered not in the end because you had the job—no use of trying to figure out just what made you stand out so much.

Pushing away from the mirror, you studied yourself over one last time.

Your outfit was exactly as they required it to be, your pink hair styled appropriately out of your face, and the slight gleam of your pantyhose made you heave a heavy sigh.

You were as ready as you could ever be. 

With one final look into the mirror, you tilted your head at the gold-colored contacts you wore, a symbol of the job you held at Yaoyorozu Bankings and thought it made you look like a whole other person. No time to dwell on that, you decided, slipping on your watch and red-bottomed high heels and left your apartment. 

It was time to work.

The commute to work was dull if you ignored the way your stomach twisted and turned in the thought of arriving at work. What would the security be like, at the bank, you couldn’t help but wonder? Would there be bulletproof glass? Ten security guards?

All the banks you’ve ever had the pleasure of entering had always been handled with a small waiting room for clients and a five-inch thick bulletproof glass wall. But that had been at smaller, local banks, not anything like where you were about to begin working. Yaoyorozu Banking had several different buildings designated for the different types of jobs located within their name. You did, however, know that the smallest only two-story building was for their in-person bank tellings. That is where you would be working. Two floors for an essential part of their business, and you had no idea what it looked like as you had no account with them, and your interview had taken place at their headquarters. 

By the time the bus had pulled up to the stop, you would need to get off of, you could feel the nerves of the upcoming day begin to sit heavily on your bladder. You could feel the eyes of everyone else on the bus staring at you as you exited the vehicle. Everyone knew what this stop was for and had undoubtedly seen the gold contacts when you passed by them.

Each step of your heel against the sidewalk's paved concrete seemed to echo distinctly in your ear. It was rather odd, you noted as you walked toward the bank's building, that despite a large number of employees and patron’s the bank had, it seemed almost deserted. Looking down at the watch on your wrist, you knew immediately that you weren’t running late. As a matter of fact, you would be running precisely on time, showing up to your on-call site fifteen minutes before you were due. 

Regardless, you took each stride in your step as powerfully and as in control as you could. Your gaze narrowed, focused, intense as you stared at the revolving crystal clean glass doors. With one last supporting thought about how you were absolutely going to make sure that you would end this day in success, you pushed through.

White marble floors, glossy white walls with black and gold accents met your gaze immediately. Despite the apparent shock of seeing the indoors of this lavish, distinctly rich bank, you continued moving as if unaffected. The clicking of your heels against the floor was the only thing letting you know that you were, in fact, moving. 

Twelve men lined the lobby hallway, each tall, bulky with sunglasses and earpieces on. Although you couldn’t see their eyes, you had without a doubt that they were looking at you as you passed them to a set of large oak and gold accented doors.

There, a smiling woman greeted you. Her smile is warm and gentle as her own silver-colored eyes welcome you, and your spine stiffens at the appearance of information that passes through your vision.

Name: Fuwa Mawata Position: Greeter & Inspector.

“Ah, welcome Uzume-chan!” she cheered in greeting, her mascara painted eyes closing in greetings. You said your hello’s, your voice breathy with the shock of this bank's high technological advantages. “I see that this is your first day here, and luckily for you, no one is around, so I may quickly inform you of entrance clearance!”

“T-That sounds perfect!” you admit, your smile feeling just the littlest bit too tight, but your hands held your bag tighter in your grip.

“Wonderful! Well, here at Yaoyorozu’s Banking Inc., we have a strict business protocol for both our clients and our employees! First, as you may or may not know, all of the building's operations take place on the floor above, and due to the clients we have, it's a bit… unorthodox in our approach. We are the only bank with no bulletproof glass between you, the bank tellers, and our customers!”

What now?

“Our clients are so finicky about being treated with such distrust that they’d rather have this approach!” Fuwa laughed as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with such statements. “So, to approach the bank, you must pass by me! But do not worry! We have never, ever within our nearly century-long reign, have ever been robbed or seized before. Our twelve men out there are true experts, and I have the only button to inform the police right here! Everyone, so both clients and employees, must leave their personal belongings here, and I will search you for any potential weapons!”

“I’m not allowed my phone up?” you asked, a bit confused by this rather outlandish set of rules.

“I’m afraid not! You’ll be so busy working the entire time you won’t be needing it. You are allowed to come and retrieve while on lunch since the break room and lunchrooms are down here on the first floor!” Fuwa confirmed, her head nodding in confirmation. “I understand that it can be a bit different, I myself am not yet used to it, but these rules are in place so that every one of our clients and employees can remain safe!”

You fight off the frown that dangerously tries to grow on your face by nodding, handing over your purse to Fuwa, “That makes sense.”

“Glad to know that it isn’t an issue for you, Uzume-chan! Now, if you’ll step past me, I’ll be checking for any concealed weapons, and you will be met with your supervisor as soon as you enter the second floor!”

It takes exactly two seconds for Fuwa to complete her scan of your body. She explained with a wink that her contacts allowed her to find any potentially dangerous weapon on a person's body. “No matter where it might be,” she added with a tilting head and a bright grin. “By the way, I love the watch! It’s so beautiful, it must’ve been expensive!”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm as you gently touch the watch, your finger tapping the watch’s face twelve times while your smile is unparalleled as you think of the man who had gifted you the object. “Thank you, it was a gift.”

With that, you climbed up the stairs as sophisticatedly, brushing a few strands of curly pink hair out of your face as you enter the main floor, and you realize immediately that the quiet of the first floor and outdoors does not reach this floor.

The second floor is loud.

People with their names and occupations flashing within your view walking from table to table, stacks of paper in their arms, arguing, or talking with those around them. It was a sight to behold, indeed. But a voice interrupted your thoughts, and before you could honestly assess the situation at hand, you were whisked away, a detailed explanation of your job and expectations were. 

Unexpectedly, Fuwa had been right.

This job had no downtime. 

You sat on a leather seat at a desk to handle the clients. Much like old banks out west, your desks were much higher than those you were servicing; most often, you had to look down at them like a mother to a child as you worked. 

Your supervisor, who went by the name Togeike Chikuchi, was over your shoulder for about an hour, detailing and correcting your every action until you cleared ten clients entirely on your own. At this moment, she sat at the desk to your left, chatting with her client with a bright sunny smile that you had thought for a moment she was incapable of. 

It was 14:23 when you were with a client who was currently wondering if sending her ‘poor niece who lived with her amazing female roommate’ ¥500,000 was enough for a week worth of groceries. Of course, it took everything in you to bite your tongue and ask her if she had ever bought her own groceries before.

“Well, if you’re asking me, I think that’s a perfect amount!” you smile pleasantly, watching as who you’re pretty sure to be a CEO of a rice tycoon company. “If anything, you can always question her if that was enough the next time you speak. Everyone is always so different when it comes to groceries.”

“Ah, I suppose so!” she laughs good naturally, her arms rising to press a slip of paper with her account information on it on your desk. “I always spend almost—”

She cut off, and for the first time, you didn’t have to wonder why.

There was an echoing, distant sound of four straight bangs. 

It seemed to have been heard collectively by the entire second floor because, for a moment, there was a silence that wrapped the whole floor. 

Mumbles and murmurs soon flooded the floor, and a frown pressed against your lips as you stared at the staircase. What happened?

“Oh, I bet you that dumb janitor downstairs dropped his vacuum again!” your client huffed, her eyes rolling while you transferred the amount she requested from her account over into her nieces. “He did that the last time I was here too! Except it only caused two loud bangs like that! How immaturely irresponsible of him! Unable to do his job correctly and as a janitor at that? How much lower could he possibly get?”

You, once again, bite your tongue, choosing instead to laugh in faux humor over her rant. The agreeing lie on your tongue moments from being let out when a new sort of movement at the corner of your eye stopped you.

Climbing up from the staircase was a man who took heavy, powerful steps. You were getting used to the way these clients carried themselves. They all tended to stride authoritatively, commandeering all attention to them. Despite their dominative pace, they were almost light on their feet, their steps relatively silent as they walked from corner to corner. But this man who made his way up the stairs was heavy, barbaric, and fierce with every echoing footstep he took.

It was as if the world slowed down as the entire room went to stare at him, and an ice-cold shiver crept down your spine as you took him in.

Ash blond, spiky unruly hair. Splattered red blood covering his exposed arms and neck. A black get-up looked akin to a secret black op team with the black army vest, black tank underneath, black army pants, black combat boots, and strap around his right thigh that seemed to carry two guns and knives. As a matter of fact, his vest also showcased the copious amount of ammunition he had.

It was Ground Zero.

Fear plunged through you as he rose a single hand to the ceiling, a sickening smirk spreading on his face as the world seemed to slow down. Many clients chose to turn to look the second his finger pulled on the trigger.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Shrieks erupted through the floor, and you watched as everyone, including yourself, hit the deck. Your body trembled with nervous fear as the gun firing stopped.

“Everybody get the fuck up.”

It was a low voice, gravely, and course with evident past strain. You looked across the way to Togeike, who looked just about as fearful and terrified as you felt. 

You didn’t dare to move, and by the looks of it, none of your coworkers did either. There was no panic button on this floor, and the only way to the switch was at Fuwa’s desk. A desk that couldn’t be reached unless passing by the man with black paint smeared across most of his face in a strategic way that rendered him anonymous by all photographic and video evidence. 

“I don’t think I fucking stuttered,” Ground Zero sneered, a light, fickle chuckle erupting low and deep in his chest as the sound of scared whimpers and silent sobbing began to pick up around the room. You didn’t need to know who was making those noises; after all, you knew what everyone was already thinking: will I be killed next? There was a loud bang a bit too near to your body, and you couldn’t help but scream in tandem with everyone else on the floor and the distinctive, irreplicable sound of someone choking on their blood. “I said, everyone, get the fuck up.”

Flight or fight were always two instincts you were taught about in school. Two altering, opposite reactions to being placed in stressful situations, but right now, you were in that third, lesser-known option: freezing.

“It’s like you elite bastards are begging to fucking die!” he laughed joyously, and you felt tears push to your eyes as another resounding bang shake through your body, your ears ringing with the noise. The now becoming familiar sound of a body hitting the floor dead and bleeding sending a sickening bubble through your throat.

But you pulled yourself up, your body trembling like a leaf as you stared at the infamous criminal who was merely smirking at the two dead bodies of clients who continued to bleed out on the floor as those around them cried.

“So, even with all the money in the goddamn world, you damn elitist are still damn fucking cry babies!” he cried with unrestrained, unleveled glee and anger. “Oh, this was the perfect place to choose as my final exit from the world.”

Your breath stops when he turns on you, his blood-red eyes locking on yours, and you can feel the hairs on your arm rising in unsettling knowing.

“Aren’t you a pretty looking whore,” he smirked, his hands putting his gun back into its holster, his heavy feet booming as loud as his gunshots as he makes his way towards you. The rest of the clients, especially the one located by your desk, shriek, cowering as he moves. “Tell me, whore, who does a guy gotta fucking talk to to get the money into my account?”

Your throat seamlessly tightened up in your deep fear as he directly addressed you, and you made a choking noise in your horror.

But, it seemed that Ground Zero was not in the mood for your timidness. Because you could see the vein in his temple throb, the sound of him sucking in his teeth, and the cold, humorous chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he grabbed his gun back out of its holster and pressed it centimeters away from between your eyes.

Typically, the clients couldn’t reach you from where they stood, but it was clearly apparent as he neared you that Ground Zero was not typical. He was big, huge, tall, and he quickly reached you. 

The heat of the previously fired bullets from the muzzle of the gun radiating off it clearly, licking the skin on your forehead as finally, words tumbled out.

“I just started today, Togeike-san is my supervisor!”

Ground Zero lazily smirked as he followed your thrust out finger at your coworker and supervisor.

A loud choking sound spluttered from Togeike as Ground Zero turned his attention onto her and stalked over in three steps easily. His eyes were sharp, deadly, and cold as he stared at your supervisor, and he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a black USB.

“Put all the bank's assets onto the account on this drive.”

“W-What if I don’t?” Togeike stammered, her body quivering just the same as yours. But the false sense of confidence only resulted in the gun being placed back between her eyes, only this time, he pressed the hot muzzle against her skin, and she shrieked at her burning skin.

“Try that again, you fucking extra,” Ground Zero hissed, and Togeike sobbed, grabbing the USB with a nod.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

The sound of Togeike sobbing is almost as bad as the intruding smells of iron rusting blood from the dead bodies and the sick smell of the burning flesh on her forehead. 

It seems to take forever, you standing there silently, perfectly still as Togeike hooks the hard drive to her computer. You can see that she begins the monetary transfer from the bank's large accounts and reserves onto the account enabled on the hard drive, and you feel numb. Should you be relieved that he would most likely take this once it was done and leave? Scared that he was here on your first day at that? What shit luck…

You concentrated on your hands as time seemed to drag by slowly, your knees still feeling weak, your breathing shallow as the crude smell of drying blood makes your head spin. 

But unlike you, you hadn’t raised a single gaze in Ground Zero’s way, a rising sound of voices began to resonate from the floor and opposite side of the room. You blinked rapidly as you looked up.

Four men stood up, their brows furrowed, suits abandoned, and expressions steady and fierce. 

“The fuck you think you’re doing standing up, fucking wimps?” Ground Zero gruffed, his body language telling a whole other story from his voice. He was relaxed, unaffected by their challenging forms and fierce glares. “What? Don’t tell me? You think you four in front of me can take me? Don’t fucking flatter yourself. Even with the three behind me who’s easily apart of your fucking idiotic plan, I’ll kill ya all before you can pray to not to be sent to hell!”

“Flatter ourselves?” a man scoffed after getting over the initial shock of their once thought to be secretive plan being exposed without so much as a spec of interest from Ground Zero. “Don’t you get so fucking cocky! We’ll beat your ass and hand you over to the fucking police, you damn bastard!”

Screams erupt throughout the entire room as the seven in cahoots men lunge forward at the dangerous criminal who has set himself back center stage of the second floor.

It’s over before you can blink.

You scream with the masses as five excruciatingly loud bangs go off, and you can barely return your gaze on the fighting men to see the outcome you already know. 

There are six bodies on the floor, bleeding out fleetingly as Ground Zero holds the seventh by the neck. Your jaw drops as more blood splatters against Ground Zero’s chest, and you’re none the wiser of the knife buried deep within his throat until the body is falling over, dead, lifeless. 

“All the fucking money in the world and none of you were taught fucking manners of a properly functioning brain, hah?” he roared, his lips pulled into a threatening, angry snarl as sobs erupt through the crowds again, and a rolling tingle shoots through your body. “I guess killing everyone just isn’t fucking enough for you all, is it?”

You were unsure of how to even answer that. Your eyes falling over onto Togeike, who was silently crying, her eyes screwed tightly as the meter on the money transfer hits 47%.

“Let me set an example for anyone else who wants to try more bullshit in front of me,” Ground Zero snaps, and you shriek when his bloodied hand tangles into your pink hair and yanks you over the desk.

Crashing onto the floor as ungracefully as one could, your eyes widen and jaw drop in an excruciating, soundless scream as pain shoots through your body. But, it’s not near over yet. 

Your hands weakly grab Ground Zero’s wrist, trying to ease the pulsing pain in your body and scalp as he drags you front and center of the second floor. You can’t even understand yourself at this point, sniffling, pathetic pleas to let you go, tears streaming down your face as he throws you, your body hitting the marble floor as you sob for forgiveness.

“Now,” Ground Zero speaks from above you, and your arms have never felt weaker as you press up from the cold, ice floor. You freeze, your body feeling like a tundra as a now all too familiar click of a loaded gun resonates centimeters from your head. You silently sob when a warm muzzle pressed against the back of your head. “The next person to look away from what I’m about to do to my new cum whore, the next person who even fucking thinks of trying some really unfunny shit… her life is on your head.”

The sobs stop with that threat, or did they grow more at the easily implied actions of the corrupt man before you? You couldn’t really tell anymore. Yet slowly, the clients who are sitting in dead men’s blood shakily turn their gaze to you, and you can feel the weight of all their eyes on you. You feel weightless, almost empty.

“Pink hair is for whores, didn’t you know that? That’s why I picked you.” Ground Zero informs you from behind you. The barrel of the gun digs harder, pushing roughly against your head. “Whores are meant to be fucked by fat fucking cocks, so turn around, whore, and suck me off.”

Your breathing returns in spastic, shallow breathes, and you suppress the rising sob in your throat as you turn around on your hands and knees.

Ground Zero stares down at you with expectant eyes, cruel and dark with their crooked want and lust. Your breathing picks up when he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and underwear with only one hand, the other one with the gun never once leaving your head.

“Make sure you all watch her, I’ve never had to kill a bitch while sucking me off, and I wouldn’t want to make this the first time!” Ground Zero laughed, his crimson red eyes glaring at the shamefully gazed clients as he holds his growing cock in his hands. Despite all logic, you stare at his hardening cock with an ever-increasing lust, the tears in your eyes never stopping, but your cunt unwilling to ignore the fact that his cock would feel so good in anyone of your holes. You knew that, and it horrified you. “The fuck you waiting for?” Ground Zero growled, shifting the barrel of the gun to your temple, his eyebrow raised in a taunt. “Suck my fucking cock.”

And despite the growing hiccuping cries in your chest, you can’t stop the way your mouth waters as you shamefully grab onto his cock and press your mouth down on him. 

His cock was large, undoubtedly longer than your face, and thicker than what your hand could encompass. Messy dark blond pubes sat motions away from your nose, and veins that ran all over his length rubbed against your tongue. The taste of his slightly sweaty cock made you gag, but the fear of what he would do caused you to snuff it out.

Tears poured limitlessly down your face, your throat and jaw stretching as far as it could as you took him in further and further.

Even with the tears on your cheeks, you did your best to appease him, horrified by the outcome should you not. Your tongue swirled against his girth, trailing the plenty of veins that you could get to. His cock pressed further into your mouth, shoving until it hit the back of your throat, continuing to dive in deeper until the ends of his pubes tickled your nose, and you could feel the head of his cock stretching out your throat. And horrifically, even with the strangled, choked sobs that still continued to pour from your mouth, you were enjoying the way he was fucking your mouth.

You enjoyed the way the cooling barrel on your temple made you quiver with dreadful apprehension. You enjoyed the way his hips rocked into your mouth, most often hitting your gaping jaw. You enjoyed the way the noises of your unwilling audience made you feel dirty, whorish, and shameful. But as his fingers managed to slip into your hollowing cheeks, drool and saliva dripping down your chin in your slobbering heat and shame, you could feel your essence slicking onto your panties.

“Look at how shameless you are!” Ground Zero laughed, his hand that once guided his cock into your mouth, gripping onto your hair and fisting into it. You yelped at the pain, your teeth painfully close to biting his cock. “All these people around watching you suck off the big, bad Ground Zero’s cock, and you aren’t even embarrassed!?”

You made a disagreeing noise, your brows furrowing, your gaze doing everything in its power to avoid your clients and coworkers gaze as Ground Zero began to rock his hips even more powerfully into your mouth. He chuckled, clearly pleased with what was occurring, and he threw the gun back into its holster. With the free hand, he placed it around your throat, squeezing your airway as you choked pathetically against his length and girth.

“I bet you came into work wanting to be fucked today. Wanting to get pressed to the floor and let everyone see your slutty fucking cunt and throat be used.” Ground Zero growled his grip on your throat, tightening even more. “Is that why you came here to work? Hoped I’d show up one day and fuck you to submission in front of everyone?!”

You gagged, the pounding of his cock further and further down your choked throat overwhelming you as the tears of shame quickly became those of fear as the lack of oxygen burned your throat and nose. You tried to breathe, but Ground Zero knew what he was doing and how he was doing it, not allowing you to breathe despite the way your fingers created crescent scars on the back of his thighs. 

Too much, too much, too much!

His balls slapped under your chin, and the musk of his skin tainted your tongue, but Ground Zero was only getting started, it seemed. With his hands now grabbing the sides of your head, he began to fuck your throat savagely. 

The wet sloppy noises of his driving cock into your throat seemed to echo off the shiny walls and marble floors. Your saliva and drool ruining your silk top and mixing with the blood on the floor. 

Your eyes were crossing with the extreme force, your body feeling weightless with your inability to breathe, yet despite all logic, you finally let out a sweet, grateful moan as your nose pressed to his hips.

But that was enough for Ground Zero.

It was a noise that would finish the last nail in your coffin as he held you there to his hips, his cock entire within your throat that tightened and fluttered against his length as you struggled to pull away.

“No use in fighting it now, you fucking whore,” Ground Zero grinned, the expression on his face akin to that of a predator stalking his prey. His voice, ever so naturally loud, filled the room, letting everyone know just what was going on. “They all heard you moan like a slut while getting fucking raped by me. So do me a little favor and get on all fours, I need a place to dump my fucking cum.”

With that, Ground Zero shoved you off his cock and onto your back, and you began to cough and choke desperately. The sour, raunchy scent of the sweat, blood, and gunpowder burning your nostrils as you attempted to steady yourself. You began to cry again at the filthy thought of how you were enjoying the way his cock had been in you, and the way your body craved for more of it.

You didn’t want to admit that you wanted him to fuck you, especially in front of everyone.

But as you were consumed with your at war thoughts, Ground Zero was already impatient. 

His feet trapped you between him, and he leaned down to grab your silk shirt.

“W-Wait—!” you shriek as he rips open the shirt, the sound of scattering buttons flying everywhere as your bra is revealed to everyone in the room who is watching.

Silent tears poured down your cheeks as with the destruction of the white silk shirt, a sheer and lacy red bra was exposed to the mass. Today had been a means of celebration, and you had intended on fucking your boyfriend the moment you got home… but that had been something you had kept a secret. Something to be held from the world until it was you and him in a bed. But it was now an object to be seen by everyone, and you bit onto your lower, trembling lip, eyes screwed shut as you tried to look away from the heated territorial look on Ground Zero’s face.

“Oh, look at what we have here?” Ground Zero almost whispered, but his voice still managed to reach every corner of the floor. “You are a little fucking whore, are you not? Came to work actually wearing lingerie! I thought I was just fucking teasing you before, but no! No! Not at all! You do want to be fucked in front of everyone!”

Your sniffling wouldn’t stop as his large, hot, bloodied dried hands grabbed at your bra-clad breasts. He was leaning down over you, you could feel the amused breathing flushing against your collarbone, and you mangled a choke when he kneeled down, trapping you.

“Such an ugly pair of tits,” Ground Zero mocked, his large hands pressing the sides of your breasts together, enhancing your cleavage and fullness of your breasts as you lay on the floor. “I’ll let you in on a secret… all those missing sluts I’ve fucked in previous jobs? Well, I can always tell how good a fuck they’d be just through this part.”

Hissing, you glared at Ground Zero as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, teasing and pulling at your pebbled nipples. His red glare meeting yours, mocking and somehow both hot and cold.

But a shameful, pitch moaned fell from you, your back against all logic arching up into Ground Zero. Soft whines, shaking arms, thrashing legs.

“Would you look at that,” Ground Zero’s sneering tone was back, and you found yourself opening your eyes (somehow missing when you closed them), to see Ground Zero glaring at someone in the crowd. “Looks like you could make a professional slut, whore! That man over there has a fucking boner over watching me rape you and your slutty mouth and feeling up your tits!”

“N-No I don’t!” the man exclaimed as you couldn’t help but meet the accused eyes that were filled with shame, a red blush tainting his cheeks. “Just thinking about when this’ll be fucking over!”

“Oh?”

Ground Zero’s grip grabbed you by the throat, and you panicked as he ripped you up onto your feet and began walking over to where the man was. You stumbled to keep up, unable to find your balance the entire time you walked with him, in awe that this unlawful man could walk determinedly when his pants around his thighs, hard, leaking cock pressing to his vest-clad stomach. But before you could find your balance, Ground Zero threw you back onto the floor, landing centimeters from the client's feet, and you began to cry as your exposed stomach touched the floor.

Ground Zero wasted no time on your noises, straddling your ass, scooping his hands beneath your breasts, and pulling you up. 

The client's face went beet red, his bulge in his pants evident as you could only keep your gaze there, unable to raise or turn your head as Ground Zero squeezed your breasts in his hands. 

You moaned at the sensation, your mind giving in to the feelings to not cry anymore.

“Tell the whore how much you like her tits,” Ground Zero commanded, his hands kneading and pulling at your mounds of flesh. “Tell her your little microcock wants to fuck her.”

The client had the decency to look offended as he spluttered, “I’M NOT GOING TO TELL HER THAT!”

With his words, silence took over the room, and you trembled in your fear.

“Damn extra?” Ground Zero shouts to Togeike.

“Y-Yes?”

“How much fucking longer?”

“I-It’s at 63%!”

“Wonderful.”

One of Ground Zero’s hands abandoned his manipulation of your breasts, but he still managed to keep you in place with only one hand. He pulled a breast out of the bra, and you whimpered as the client gwuaffed at the sight of your breast, but immediately cut himself off when a cold, heavy metal barrel pressed against your temple.

“Let’s try again,” Ground Zero said with faux cheer. “Tell the whore how much you like her tits, and how your microcock wants to fuck her, or else I’ll kill her right in front of you.” There’s a heavily, curling silence that overwhelms the room before he decides to add one last thing for good measure. “I’ve never fucked a dead body before, and I wouldn’t want to start that now.”

“I-I like her tits,” the man stammered.

“How much?”

“T-They’re… they’re so hot,” the man begins to cry, his body shaking in front of you. “I wish I could b-be fucking her instead!”

“Too bad for that microcock you have, huh?” Ground Zero taunted, pulling the gun from your temple and pointing it straight at the man's crotch. “Show her.”

“W-What?!”

“Show her your cock.”

It seemed to happen so slowly. The man unbuckling his belt with shaky hands, clumsily undoing his pants, and shifting it down his legs, white boxer briefs stained slightly with pre-cum. You looked away when he revealed a cock that looked pathetic to the one you had just sucked, so small, so thin, so discolored. 

“You got one fucking ugly ass cock,” Ground Zero laughed.

Then the world picked back up.

The first thing you heard and felt was the tearing of your skirt, and you panicked as Ground Zero dropped your chest onto the cold floor. You whipped your head around to see your work skirt split all the way down the middle, only held together by a few remaining strands by the waistline. And the sheer pantyhose you wore, twisted between his fingers, and completely ripped as his gaze met yours.

“Cute fucking thong.”

You choked at the feeling of cold, soured air hitting your inner thighs that were still wet with your slick, and instinctively, you tried to scramble onto your knees. But it seemed that this was what Ground Zero wanted from you, for the moment you were on your knees, he pressed his hand to the curve of your back and kept you there.

Ass up, back curved, chest down.

“Until the transfer is at 100%, your wet little cunt is mine!” Ground Zero reveled in the information as he couldn’t even bother to pull down your panties before plunging his fingers into your sopping heat.

The shameful pleasure of feeling his fingers deep within your cunt sent you screaming, your back arching even further as his fingers continued to thrust in you. They curled and spread, sending your mind into a spiraling lust as he managed to find all of your sweet spots without so much as breaking a sweat.

“You’re so easy,” Ground Zero groaned, his cock rutting between the curves of your ass as he continued to finger fuck you. “So fucking wet too. I just knew a fucking whore like you couldn’t be getting fucked right at home, that’s why you hoped you’d get fucked by me today!”

Your teeth bit into your forearm, the overwhelming pleasure of his fingers stroking your inner walls, tweaking and moving against your clit, making your thighs tremble with the already forming pressure in your womb. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, you little whore,” Ground Zero whispered into your ear, laughing when you shuddered at the feeling of his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “Everyone wants to hear you moan, scream, and cry for the big bad Ground Zero’s cock. Don’t mute yourself, let them hear just how well I’ll fuck you into a puddle of tears and cum.”

You didn’t want them to hear you begging for more. You didn’t want the entire room to know that your cunt was spasming and clenching around his fingers because you liked this. You didn’t want them to know.

“I bet fuckface in front of you really wants to hear it!” Ground Zero laughed, his finger doing light, quick circles against your clit as his other hand brought your attention to the man before you. Sure enough, his cock was throbbing, precum leaking down his length as he shamefully looked at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind you fucking yourself as I fuck this stupid cunt.”

But with the building pressure in your stomach. Your toes curling as the soft thumps of his fingers dive in and out of your sopping wet cunt, your body begins to tense up.

“Already ready to cum,” Ground Zero smirked, and you felt your body go rigid when his fingers left your cunt, and was immediately replaced with his large, thick cock.

Having not expected such action, your arms shot out, eyes rolling back as a guilty, wanton scream tore through your throat. He was so big, so thick, so full, stretching you out completely, sending your tight walls into a frenzy as they stretched and tightened around his cock.

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

“Oh, she speaks!” Ground Zero laughs, almost a bit deranged as he grabs onto your waist and begins to plow into you. “I wonder to what lengths I can get you to speak! I want to hear you screaming for me, whore.”

It was then that he slammed his hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. It was heavy-handed, the power he held in his hand while never doubted, didn’t make you think it was ever this much. The pleasure curled pain made your knees buckle, a hot pressure bursting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on the same throbbing cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you keened loudly when Ground Zero yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your swelling skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight, is whoever this getup for fuck you shitty too? Don’t tell me this fucking extra is the man you fuck in your bed?” he laughs, his foot stamping to the outside of your leg. The new position increases the range and the power of his thrusts, sending your body forward with every squelch bringing thrust. “I bet you’d like it if your stupid cock piece was here to watch how a real fucking man fucks, huh? You fucking would—” his hand comes down to wrap around your waist, pinching and tugging at your clit that’s thrumming with impending orgasm. Ignoring your growing pleads for more— “You like being an example to everyone in this fucking shit room of how to be fucked correctly! I bet you’re actually liking the way they’re judging you and your tight, wet cunt.”

The next powerful thrust that has his balls smacking your skin nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Ground Zero abused your clit and cunt.

“Answer me, fucking whore.”

There was no stopping Ground Zero’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It was true; it delighted you.

“Y-Yes, I like being fucked by you!” you finally break crying, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more. “I like them watching as you fuck me! You fuck me so good!”

“Glad you could finally admit it because your cunt is so fucking wet right now I’m sure everyone else already knew,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you. I can see you choking back your cries of pleasure, the fuck you take me for? Do you want me to leave you without an orgasm?”

“N-No!” you sob pathetically, arms pathetically stretching behind you to keep him thrusting faster into you. “D-Don’t leave me until I-I cum!”

Your words were loud, letting everyone know just how much you wanted this, just enough for the man before you to groan as he came, and you thanked Ground Zero as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a smirk as he let go of your hair, letting your head drop back onto the floor, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that. I want the entire fucking world to know who’s fucking you right now.”

The words were honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Please, Ground Zero, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you babble, your tongue falling from your mouths as you pant like a bitch in heat, your body convulsing and shaking with need and heightening lust.

Your mind reeled as Ground Zero continued his conquest against your cunt. You could barely count the number of times he drilled his cock straight into your heat, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix over and over. The added sensation of his fingers manipulating your clit, and shoving into your mouth to tug on your tongue as you began to grow too loud made you dizzy. Your ass and thighs were undoubtedly bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto the marble floor.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he cheers as he repositions the angle in which he’s driving into you, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued fucking you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips finally began to buck against his commanding hips, trying to get the echoing slaps to grew even louder. “Such a greedy little slut.”

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more heat, power, and pain.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Ground Zero chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Ground Zero slams into you with the power and force you had yet to experience. Causing you to howl in your throbbing lust, your mind more a second snapping back out of its haze as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you try to look at Ground Zero, finally trying to take a glance at how he looked. You wondered if he was as unhinged as you felt, as savage as you imagined with his lustful red eyes. 

“Where is it at?” Ground Zero barked over at Togeike.

“I-It’s at 97%!” she stammered, shame dripping from her voice, and you had half a mind to wonder if they were all turned on too.

Maybe they were jealous of the fat cock claiming you, and you mewl in the thought, your back bristling as you slammed back onto his drilling cock. You wanted more from him, craved more from him. The coil in your belly still yet to be undone, but you were not going to let it snap anytime soon.

“Gotta fucking make this little slut cum soon then, huh?” Ground Zero grinned, and you felt his teeth bare into the back of your neck in a flash of throbbing, burning pain.

You cried.

The angle and power behind these growing sloppy thrusts were different than what you were used to. It was deranged almost, your body shifting with each thrust, nearly toppling over as Ground Zero claimed you with his teeth and his cock. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, ringing moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you brought your arms as best you could to his waist to keep him there.

Sweat dripped down Ground Zero’s neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“Please — fuck — do that! Do that again, please!” you screamed when a vein in his cock dragged against your pulsating, puffy walls, at the same time he pushed against your cervix.

“Such—” thrust— “A—” thrust— “Fucking—” thrust— “Whore!” thrust! “Who do you fucking belong to?!”

“Y-You, Ground Zero!” you scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “I belong to you! I’m your fucking whore, please fill me with your cum! Cum in me, please cum in me!”

Ground Zero preens at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in his zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure now spilling over.

His cock twitched within you. It knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length, and you orgasm roughly, your body shaking and spasming uncontrollably as you scream his name. Ground Zero curses loudly, slamming into you one last time with the power and tenacity of an army as he lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came in you.

“Such a good slut,” Ground Zero grins as you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, physical and mental exhaustion now catching up with you. “Sleep now, I’m not done with you.”

You couldn’t gather the energy to speak back, your world blacking out with the sounds of sobs, screams, and more gunshots.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹���⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You wake up in a car.

The warm, gentle wind caressing your face as the world is quiet. It's calm, pleasant, pleasing. Your pink wig is on your knees, slightly ruined with blood, sweat, tears, and drool.

You sigh, your body throbbing with different pain as you look to your right at who’s driving.

It’s Ground Zero, or as you know him: Bakugou Katsuki.

His arms are covered now, the old black op outfit changed for a pair of black slacks and a red button-down shirt. You would have no idea he was the man who stormed into Yaoyorozu Bankings earlier that day.

“Good morning,” you sigh, reaching against the seat to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Bakugou looks at you with a smirk, reaching towards you for a real kiss as he continues to drive. You can tell you’re in comfortable clothes, ointment on any potentially worrisome wounds he had inflicted on you while wrapped up in your twisted fantasy of yours. 

“Nice to see you up,” he gruffs, his voice rough from his overuse in the bank.

“Did we get it?” you ask, head pressing to his shoulder, and with a chuckle, he raised the black USB.

“Damn fucking right we did, y/n.”

“Perfect.”

It goes without saying that despite the sheer brilliance of Bakugou’s work as Ground Zero, he would have never pulled off such crimes without you. His pretty, small girlfriend, who always played a victim of his lust at his operations just for good measure. It was a fun life both of you lived.

You looked at the expensive Cartier watch on your wrist, a beautiful gift he had gotten you after your first successive robbery. It had also been programmed for you to communicate with Bakugou on how many guards there were on the floor.

“I love you.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

arrière-pensée: a concealed thought or intention; an ulterior motive.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

tags in comments, theres too many of you.

[littlemissnoname13]

The life he always wanted (D.M.)

Summary: Draco’s life after the battle of Hogwarts

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

A/n: I wrote a multi-chapter a few months ago that never made it on here. This one shot has been pulled out of it and posted as a one shot just like “You and your green apples.” Which was supposed to be a part of that same multi chapter too.

Warnings: angst, Multiple mentions of avada and death so please read at your own discretion. Also please feel free to message me if I need to add any more disclaimers.

Word count: 2100+

The only thing illuminating the dark room was the flickering light from the television. 

Draco thought the muggles had really outdone themselves with that one as he had spent one too many nights in front of the television with a bottle of fire whisky.

Some nights he’d be too wasted to realise he’d been watching static for hours. 

Faint, fuzzy music could be heard all around the room even though the volume was set to a minimum and Draco took this opportunity to waltz you across the living room of your cozy one bedroom home. 

The house wasn’t too big but it was just the way you’d always wanted it to be—big glass windows, hardwood floors and a small spiral staircase leading to the roof. 

“The life we’ve always wanted.” You sighed and placed your head on his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Draco.” 

One of his hands was placed securely on the small of your back while the other held your hand as you moved together with the music. Your soft, flowy hair bounced as he twirled you in his arms. 

“Oh really?” He smirked and watched you nod your head in response with a sad look in your eyes. 

“Yes really.” 

“Well I’m here now Darling so there’s no need to worry about all that.” He whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that don’t you?”

“I know Draco.” You whispered and he pulled you closer to him. “I know.”

Draco couldn’t begin to imagine what his life would be life without you in it. 

Shuddering at the dark clouds forming at the top of his blond head, he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply to make the clouds drift away. 

“Don’t you have to be somewhere tomorrow?” You asked tilting your head upwards to look at him. Draco noticed that your eyes brows crinkled a little as you said this—the look of worry somewhat prominent. 

“Oh yes.” He sighed, rolling his eyes at you. “I really wish you didn’t remind me.” 

“But you haven’t met our friends in so long.” 

“Your friends. ”He corrected you curtly. “And it’s only been a few months.” 

Well, it had been more than just a few months but It wasn’t his fault that he’d rather spend all his time with you. 

Draco noticed that you giggled when he said that as if you knew before taking his hand and guiding him towards the bedroom. 

He decided to not utter a single word of protest as he quietly followed you into the bedroom. 

“Come lie with me, Dray.” You whispered as he watched you slip under the covers. You looked so peaceful, so content and the whole moment seemed so fickle like it would fade away if he moved too quickly or blinked too hard. 

He hastily removed his shirt slipping under the covers next to you—his head on your chest as you lazily played with his hair. 

This was everything he’d ever wanted. 

“I love you y/n.” 

“I love you too.” 

~~~~~~~

“Glad you came, Malfoy.” Ginny smiled the best smile she could smile, opening the door to let him in the house.

“Well hello to you too Weaslette.” 

“Come on inside. We were all waiting for you.” Ginny said she led the way towards the living room filled with familiar voices and faces. 

“Potter. Weasel. Granger.” Draco muttered as he gave all three a semi polite nod of acknowledgement. 

“I uh—like your hair.” Harry commented looking at Draco’s unkempt blond hair now growing towards his shoulders. 

Upon hearing Harry, Draco ran his fingers through his hair and fought an urge to say something snarky. 

“So, may I ask why I’ve been summoned here?” Draco finally said as he sat down on an armchair opposite to Harry. 

“We just wanted to see you. You have been gone for a…bit...” Harry replied, clearing his throat. And we thought you might want this.” 

Draco raised his eyebrows suspiciously as Harry stretched out his hand to hand him a sealed envelope. 

“Cup of tea?” Ginny asked. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

As soon as he reached home, he tore his clothes off and jumped into the shower. 

He let the warm water wash away the ache he felt all over his body. There was no tell tale sign indicating the pain was physical or emotional. 

Nonetheless, the warmth of the water helped. 

To some extent. 

After what felt like hours in the shower, he finally stepped outside and wrapped a towel around his torso. 

The bathroom had fogged up and the fog had travelled all the way into the bedroom. 

In an attempt to get the fog to disappear, Draco cracked the surprisingly large bedroom window open and let the crisp night air flow into the room. 

“Someone’s back home early.” He heard you  mock in a sweet singsong voice making the tiniest of smiles appear at his lips as he turned around to face you. 

You were wearing a flowy satin dress and were perched on the top of his desk—dangling your legs. 

He paused to admire and remember every detail about the sight in front of him. 

The way the gust of wind coming from the window blew your hair towards your face. The way that flimsy satin fabric hugged your body. The way the flickering table lamp casted shadows on your features. 

Everything.

“I just couldn’t stay away from you.” He shrugged and watched you chuckle and get down from his desk. 

He patiently waited as you took long strides towards him before finally wrapping your arms around his neck—stretching on the tip of your toes and bringing your face close to his. 

“Open the envelope Draco.” You whispered softly into his ears. 

A flash of lightning lit up the entire room with a blinding white light as the sky roared. 

Draco nodded as he slowly reached for the crumpled envelope he’d left inside his coat pocket.

Taking a long breath, he looked up at you and you gave him an apologetic yet reassuring smile while he ripped the envelope open.

The opened seal of the envelope brought along with it, a familiar scent of cedarwood and vanilla. It was the smell he could smell on his clothes after spending the day with you. 

A small photograph fell out of the envelope.

It was a Polaroid you’d unintentionally taken one summer. Both of you had questionable expressions on your faces because you were both trying to get the Camera to work. 

You were chewing your lip in confusion and his nose was scrunched up; you both were not ready for the photo at all. 

His hands shook violently as sporadic rain drops started to pour down from the window leaving tiny splatters on the worn out photograph.

“Why?” He spat in anger. “Why did you have to throw yourself between me and that killing curse?” 

You smiled an apologetic smile at him once again; you did that a lot. 

“You’ll get drenched Draco—close the window.” You said,  dodging his question completely while you reached towards his hand again.

“Stop dodging my question.” 

“It hadn’t rained for a while.” You said making him heave a sigh and look up at the night sky.

One rain drop and become two and two had become three.

Draco took a wobbly step towards you and fruitlessly wiped the drops of rain that were falling on your cheeks. 

“And now it’s raining.” He pointed out with his voice shaky. 

“Excellent observation, my love.” 

The way you said it, the nonchalance in your voice made him furious. You were gone but he had to wake up every single day in a world where you no longer existed. 

In a stupor of grief, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards him. “Don’t you see?— even the sky is grieving the loss of what could have been! The life we could have lived!” 

“I like to think it’s the universe washing away the hurt and pain.” You whispered, staring deeply into his steely eyes. “You’ll see. It’s going to be a beautiful morning tomorrow. I can feel it.” 

“Why y/n? Why didn't you let me die instead?—you are gone and what am I left with? A worn out photograph of you?!” 

“Draco—”

“Every damned day, I feel further and further away from you.” He began sobbing. “The smell of your perfume is fading from my sweater, I cannot picture the way you used to laugh anymore—for the love of Merlin! I don’t even remember what life was like when you were with me y/n. It all seems so far away..so distant.”

“You have to let me go, Draco.” You whispered as you pressed your forehead to his. 

He physically felt the pain of his breaking heart all over his body. The sharp pain brought back all the trauma he had suppressed over the last few months. 

“No…No. No. No—Please don’t leave again.” He pleaded as angry tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Please. I—I don’t think I can handle it.” 

“You’ll see me again. I swear.” You said softly as he began to laugh an ominous kind of laugh, knowing deep down that you weren’t even there in front of him to begin with.

Everything was all in his head. 

Twenty seven months.

He’d been talking to the voice in his head for twenty seven whole months while the world moved on without him. 

“When? When will I see you again? In another life? Merlin!” Draco said in between his hysterical laughter. 

“Maybe.” The figment of his imagination whispered caressing the side of his face till he calmed down. “Maybe in another life I won’t find myself having to jump in between you and the killing curse.” 

Draco gave you a disapproving glare before he leaned down to find your rain soaked lips. 

With his index finger and thumb holding your chin up, Draco kissed you gently while his own tears and the acidic grey rain continued trickle down his face. 

It took him every ounce of strength he had left but he nodded like he was saying his final goodbye and took a step back— releasing you from his embrace and releasing him from his grief. 

You slowly turned on your heel and walked towards the door. 

“I’ll be waiting for you Draco.” 

He closed his eyes because he wasn’t ready to see you leave. 

So after what felt like centuries, Draco slowly opened his eyes. 

He was all alone. 

~~~~🍂🍁🍂~~~~

Autumn. 

It could be seen in the rustling trees and the gust of wind that made the amber colored leaves that were once bright green fall down onto a winding pathway beneath trees. 

A young woman strided along the winding path. Clicking her heels. Head tilted upwards, taking in the pinkish purple sky in all of its glory. 

A few books were tucked underneath her arm and a cloth bag loosely hung on her left shoulder. 

She was so occupied by the pleasant weather and whatever thoughts were circling her head, that she didn’t even realise that she had collided with somebody.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

She apologised profusely before she knelt down on the ground to collect the books she’d dropped. 

The stranger hummed in response and helped her gather the contents that had fallen out of her book bag. 

An oddly familiar smell tickled her senses. It was the smell of cologne and fresh mint. 

The smell of the cologne was so foreign to her. It was like nothing she’d ever smelled before and yet, she found herself feeling awfully comforted by it.

The smell sent her into a state of déjà vu. 

She looked up through her lashes and saw a boy with steely grey eyes making an eerie sense of familiarity washed all over her body. 

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” 

The boy blinked a few times before cracking a small smile. “I think we’re in the same Art history class. Judging by where you’re headed.” 

“Right.” She nodded as they slowly walked down the path together. “Don’t mind me. It’s just.. it’s just that you seem oddly familiar to me.” 

He shoved his hands into his pocket as they quietly walked next to each other. The silence wasn’t an awkward one. 

Not for him at least. 

It felt almost as if they’d always been walking together for years—in another timeline, in another life.

It all felt habitual. 

“Tell you what? He finally said looking down at the girl he’d just met. “How about we get coffee after class and discuss this further. You seem oddly familiar to me too.” 

“I’d like that.”

Her eyes pierced a million daggers into his heart.

“I’d like that a lot.” 

-------------------------------------

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Love you all,

Vi

[fific7]

Unexpected - Part 1

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

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You and every unwed woman in Narnia knew that the handsome King Caspian was being pressured by his advisors to find a Queen for himself.

Most knew that to become Queen of Narnia would be unattainable for them - no doubt that would be some Princess from another country - and you had no illusions about your own chances. Your father was one of the lords at court and owned a large amount of land near Cair Paravel, but you were not a Royal so you were sure you’d never be considered.

You and Caspian had been friendly when you were younger but you doubted he’d remember you, so much had happened between then and now.

You’d been restless at home recently, mainly because your parents had started speaking of finding you a husband. Appalled, you’d pestered, pleaded with and finally persuaded your father to arrange for you to see Professor Cornelius as you wanted something with which to fill your days instead of playing the piano, embroidery and reading.

Cornelius had suggested you come to work with him as his research assistant, and you’d leapt at the chance. It also meant that you would live at Cair Paravel, away from the slightly smothering atmosphere at home. Your mother had not spoken to you for a week before you left (or your father, whom she blamed for setting up the interview in the first place). But she’d reluctantly accepted that you were flying the nest, however you’d had to endure an extremely long lecture about how you should behave while living away from home.

It seemed that you would be able to eat, drink, speak and bathe and not much else.

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King Caspian made his way to Cornelius’ study, knocking once before entering. The older man looked up at him, smiling and greeting him. Caspian threw himself into the chair in front of the desk, having lifted three books from it first.

“You are in need of some time away from your advisors, Caspian?”

The King nodded, running his hands over his face. “They just go on and on and on about how I need a wife and an heir. I am sure I will find a wife one day but I have other things I wish to concentrate on at the moment.” “Your next voyage?” Caspian nodded, “Yes. There is still much to do. The construction of the Dawn Treader is well under way, but I have an itinerary to decide upon and courses to plot.”

“I have a new research assistant starting tomorrow, I am sure she will be able to help you with that. She is well read and knowledgeable of the many other lands you may wish to visit.” Caspian looked up quickly at him, “She?” “Yes, she is my Lord Tirian’s daughter.” Caspian smiled, “I remember her. We played silly games together when we were young, whenever her father brought her to the castle. It will be so nice to see her again.”

Cornelius, hiding a smile, replied, “Oh, I think you will be very pleased to see her again, my King.”

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Feeling nervous for some reason, you tapped on Cornelius’ door and heard “Come in” in response. Stepping into the room, you were amazed at the numbers of books, manuscripts and charts which occupied the small room. You could hardly see the diminutive Cornelius in amongst it all, and he saw you taking in the piles stacked everywhere.

He chuckled, “Yes, there are too many, my dear. I’m hoping you can help me catalogue and store them as I confess the situation is getting out of control.” You bowed your head to him, “I’ll be happy to assist, Professor Cornelius.” “I’m so glad to hear that. On another note, the King is looking forward to meeting you again. I’d quite forgotten until I spoke to him about you that you were childhood friends.” You smiled, “Well, I’m not sure the King would have actually called me his friend as such, but we did spend happy hours playing hide and seek and pretending to fight dragons.”

Cornelius nodded, “He remembers those times fondly, my lady. He was not allowed to play with many other children, and I’m certain he considered you a friend of his. Come, let us go and reintroduce you to each other.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian looked up from the document he was reading at his desk. There had been a sharp knock at the door of his chambers and then it had opened, Cornelius striding into the room with another person following him. He was transfixed as he looked upon the grown-up face of his childhood playmate. He stood and walked around the desk towards the two of them, whispering her name as she curtsied in front of him.

He was still staring at her. Cornelius cleared his throat seeing that the young King was lost for words, but Caspian ignored him as he heard her soft voice, “It is so nice to see you again, your Majesty.” “Caspian,” he said immediately, “we never called each other anything except our first names, did we?” She was smiling up at him, and he was still a little overwhelmed. This was the skinny little girl he’d run about with all those years ago? Now, she was a woman - a beautiful woman. “No, Caspian, we didn’t.”

Cornelius interjected, “I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted, so I’m going back to my study. Your Majesty, my lady.” He gave a small bow and left the room.

Caspian indicated the large couch by the window and she made her way to it, gathering her dress underneath her as she sat down. He sat at the other end, and without thinking he reached out and took her hand. She smiled, wrapping her fingers around his hand as they’d done so many years ago, while running headlong through the orchards next to the castle.

“I’m so very sorry about your father, Caspian. He was always so kind to me. You must miss him dreadfully.” Caspian looked down quickly and she heard him say quietly, “Thank you. Yes, I miss him every minute of every day.” He met her eyes once more, “But we were able to right the wrongs done to him and Narnia, for which I am very grateful.” She smiled at him again, “And here you are, a King! My childhood friend. I really didn’t think you’d remember me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s dark brown eyes gazed into yours and he held your hand even tighter. “Of course I remember you! Do you think I’d forget my only friend?! Your visits and the little time we spent together made my life bearable.”

You were shocked, and felt so sad for him. “Oh, Caspian! I can’t have been your only friend, surely?” His eyes filled with tears and he looked down again, “Believe me, you were. I was so lucky that we’d met before my father died, so it would have looked strange if my uncle had banned us from meeting. He kept me totally isolated most of the time. I think he did that so people maybe wouldn’t notice when it was time to kill me.”

Cornelius hadn’t told you it had been this bad for him! Your own eyes were watering now as you thought about the hardships he’d had to face at such a young age. Without giving it much thought, you flung your arms round him and hugged him tightly. His head came to rest on your shoulder and your hand went to the back of his head, stroking his silky hair. His shoulders shook slightly and you knew he was crying, so you just held him until he was ready to sit back from you. He stood up abruptly and turned to look out of the window, a hand swiftly wiping his cheeks dry.

He gave a choked laugh, “I’m so sorry, this was supposed to be a happy reunion and we are both crying,” looking down at you as you also wiped tears away. “I’m sorry, Caspian. I mentioned your father and perhaps I shouldn’t have?” He shook his head, “No, I’m glad that you did. And at least we have now spoken of his passing and can remember and talk about happier times.” You smiled at him, “Yes, I shall enjoy that. Although maybe I should speak firstly about how worried I was on the occasion we came to visit, and you were not there. I asked as many guards and lords as I could where you were, but I was told to stop being a nosy child. My father would say nothing to me either, despite my tantrums!”

Caspian burst out laughing, “Oh I remember your tantrums so well! I’m impressed he didn’t give in to you in the face of one of those!” You slapped him lightly on the arm, also laughing, “Caspian! You’re supposed to be my friend!” He became serious again, “I most certainly am. I’m overjoyed to have you back in my life. So much has happened in the past few years, and there has been so much to do, but rest assured I would have tracked you down eventually.” His hand went to your face, stroking your cheek gently and you felt your breath catch. He looked so handsome. Very much a man now, rather than the adolescent boy you’d once known.

His head moved much closer to yours, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian suddenly realised what he was about to do, and pulled back sharply. He should not kiss her.

They’d only just met again, but he knew that all his feelings for her were still there. He’d just pushed them down, deep deep down, so that he could carry out what he’d needed to do for Narnia and for his father’s memory.

He’d been in love with her when he was a boy, and now that he was a man - he knew that he still loved her. He’d nearly passed out when he’d seen her again today after being apart from her for so long. All those suppressed feelings had come raging back through his veins in an instant, overwhelming, all-consuming, setting his mind and body alight with a burning passion.

But she’d said he was her friend. So he doubted that she felt the same kind of love for him that he felt for her. He must bear that in mind and act accordingly, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t the case.

Stepping back from her, he let his hand fall from her face and smiled sadly at her.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[moonlit-reveriee]

Hi there luv! Hoping you're doing good! . I'd just like to drop by n ask... do you do requests for techno au characters? Coz if so,can I request a sir billiam x reader please? Preferably she/her pronouns thank you <3

Akin to Royalty

sir billiam x fem!reader

this is my first time writing for sir billiam (and i ended up writing a lot more than i expected) so i hope you enjoy my interpretation of him!

content warning // implied NSFW, though the story itself is SFW

listen to this while you read: Hell by Olivver the Kid

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You lived in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Or, well, you used to at least. The place was dry, lonely, but the few people who lived there called it home.

Everything was peaceful and quiet, until one day a mysterious stranger rolled into town. He rode on a dark stallion, and immediately made his way towards the bank. You stood at the opposite side of the road, and briefly made eye contact with him. It was difficult to see from that distance, but you swear you saw his formal demeanor falter for just a moment.

Minutes after the man entered, there were screams emanating from the building as he jumped onto his horse’s back, sacks of money slung across his shoulder and a young child clutched in his arm. He was about kick his horse into a full gallop, but his head turned and laid eyes on you once again.

Suddenly, he was right in front of you. His arm stretched out towards you, offering an open hand for you to take.

“Come with me”, he said quickly. His eyes were locked on yours, despite the approaching sounds of the whole village coming to stop him. You weren’t sure what drove you to make the decision you did that day. Maybe it was pure impulse, or possibly even boredom. But you took his hand and allowed him to hoist you into a seated position behind him.

With a swift kick and a yell, the horse was sprinting out of town at an almost impossible speed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s torso to prevent from falling, and watched as your old home faded from view.

The sun was low in the sky when he finally came to a stop. You were in a dense forest, just on the outskirts of a clearing in the trees. Peering though the leaves, you could barely make out the shape of what appeared to be... a mansion?

“Here, let me help you down”, he said, holding his arms up to you from where he stood on the ground.

“... Tell me your name first.”

He almost scoffed at your response, “You’re the one who hopped on a horse with a complete stranger. I should be asking you the same thing.”

“You first then”, you retorted. You weren’t sure why you were being so bold with him, but he seemed amused by it.

“I am Sir Billiam”, he surrendered, “and who might you be my lady?”

“[y/n].”

“[y/n]”, he repeated as if he were tasting the word between his lips, “well, I assume you will be living here for a period of time. Allow me to show you around?”

You placed your hands on Sir Billiam’s shoulders and allowed him grab your waist as he lifted you off the horse’s back and onto the ground. A small group of what appeared to be servants had already come to meet him outside. They gathered up the sacks of money, the horse, and the child and took them inside. You, however, were lead inside by Billiam himself.

Billiam’s mansion was lavish. The largest building you had ever seen. He lead you to one of the large sleeping chambers that would become your bedroom. You were introduced to the all of the staff, and told what time each meal was served.

Billiam also explained he would like you to help out with a few tasks that needed to be done around the place. He offered you the job of primary caregiver for the child from your village, which you accepted.

That was how you spent your days going forward. You and the young boy would wander the halls of the mansion, playing games and helping him with his studies. Billiam would sometimes leave for business, but you and him would always meet for meals throughout the day. It became a comfortable routine, and multiple months had passed in the blink of an eye.

One day, you and Billiam were eating dinner alone together. The child had gone up to bed early. The two of you ate in comfortable silence, until Sir Billiam suddenly spoke up.

“I will be hosting a ball in about a week’s time. Would you like to attend?”

You were a little shocked by his offer. He had hosted a couple parties during your time here, but you had always assumed it wasn’t the place for you and stayed out of the way.

“Won’t you need me to watch the kid?”, you asked.

“I can have someone else watch him for the night”, he responded simply, “plus, I would like for you to be there.”

You carefully pondered over his words. He really wanted you to be there? You couldn’t understand why. You were just a small town girl who’d runaway from her home. What made you fit to attend a ball on the level of opulence as Sir Billiam’s?

“Can I ask you a question before I make my decision?”, you spoke up after a few moments of silence. He gave you a nod, indicating for you to continue.

“Why did you ask me to come with you? That day, in my old town...”

He paused for a second before answering, “I knew I would need someone to look after the child. Who better than someone from his hometown?”

You hummed in acknowledgment of his answer. It was a good enough reason, you supposed.

“But that’s not the only reason”, he continued, standing up from his seat. He strode across the room, coming to a stop and leaning against your side of the table. With gloved hands, he placed a finger on your chin and gently lifted it.

“You can clearly see the environment I live in.... I like to surround myself with beautiful things.”

His finger lingered on your chin before slowly pulling away. Your breath caught in your throat as he turned to leave the room, shoes clacking against the hard dining room floor.

“I already have a dress in mind for you”, he called out with his back turned as he pushed his way through the swinging double doors. They closed behind him with a resounding thud. You sat in silence, trying to collect your thoughts as a servant rushed in to clear away Billiam’s plate.

A week later, you exited your sleeping chambers wearing the fanciest dress you’d ever seen. Billiam presented it to you the moment you agreed, having his seamstresses make any adjustments you desired. It fit you perfectly, with elaborate silver jewelry to match.

The party was already underway when you entered the ballroom. There were a countless number of people gathered in the room, all dressed elaborately. You felt a little out of place, but brushed the feeling aside and scanned the room for Sir Billiam. You found him talking to a small group of people, dressed in his dark and gold formal attire.

When he glanced to the side and caught sight of you, he was halted mid conversation. As he stared at you, time seemed to slow. He raised a hand to excuse himself from the group, and began making long strides towards where you stood.

“Hello, my dear”, he said with a smile, looking down at you and drinking in your appearance. His expression was strong enough to almost make you shy away, but you stood strong and held his gaze despite the blush rising to your cheeks.

He offered up an open palm for you to place your hand upon. When you did, he leaned down and placed a kiss on the back of your palm. He lingered there with closed eyes for what seemed to be an inappropriately long time, but eventually parted and released your hand back to you.

“You look absolutely gorgeous”, he spoke almost reverently. You blushed at the way he spoke about you. He looked gorgeous as well, though you were still too embarrassed to admit that.

“I’ve never been to a party like this before”, you said, unsure of what else to say. He offered out his arm, which you took instinctually.

“You can stay by my side the whole night if you’d like”.

With that, he lead you out into the crowd, rejoining with the group he had been talking to previously. The rest of your night was spent being introduced to people by Billiam, listening in on conversation, and drinking fancy bubbling wine. Once you felt more comfortable, Billiam would occasionally leave the central ballroom with small groups of people at a time. You assumed he was giving select individuals a personal tour of his mansion.

As the party was beginning to wind down, you exited the ballroom. You just needed a moment away from the crowds. The gentle string music was muffled, but still able to heard as you walked down a nearby empty hall way. As you turned the corner, you happen to see Sir Billiam himself standing at the other end. He seemed distracted, but quickly caught sight of you and turned to walk in your direction.

“Hello my dear”, he said breathlessly once he reached you, “is everything alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted a moment to myself.” He nodded in understanding, clasping his hands behind his back as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I hope you have enjoyed yourself tonight, [y/n]”, he spoke almost nervously.

“I have”, you reassured him, “I would have left way earlier if I didn’t.”

He gave a hearty chuckle, “I am glad to hear that. Hopefully, you can attend more parties in the future. If you’d like to, of course.”

You smiled at him, “I would like that, I think.”

There was silence between the two of you. Billiam opened and closed his mouth, as if he were about to say something, but started rethinking his words midway though.

“[y/n]... I feel like doing something rather foolish”, he said quietly as he took a subtle step closer to you.

“What is it?”, you asked, taking a small step towards him as well.

Suddenly, the smooth fabric of his glove was against your cheek as he brought your lips up to his. You froze in surprise for just a moment before unconsciously melting into him, allowing him to take the lead as he kissed you. Once you started to kiss back, his other hand was placed against your lower back, drawing you even closer to him.

The two of you eventually parted, both slightly shocked and gasping for breath. He looked into your eyes, and you saw as his expression faltered for just a moment. The hand on your cheek pulled away, leaving a small spot on your face feeling.. wet?

“What is it?”, you asked as he looked at you strangely.

“N-nothing”, he said, turning his head downward to rummage through his pockets. “Must have spilt some wine on my glove”, he muttered as he pulled out a handkerchief and proceeded to gentle dab it against your cheek.

You watched as he quickly shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket, just barely able to make out a small red stain before it disappeared. At the same time, he pulled the soiled glove off with his teeth and placed it within the same pocket.

“Now”, he said, returning his half-lidded gaze back to you, “with that distraction taken care of...”

His lips were back on yours, though this time he used the force of his body to gently press your back against the wall. He kissed you so fiercely it left your head spinning. You gripped the fabric on the back of his coat in an attempt to ground yourself.

“You’re so beautiful, my love”, he spoke adoringly against your skin as his lips traveled down your jaw and onto the graceful line of your neck, “ever since I saw you in that village, I knew I wanted you here with me.”

You tilted your head back against the wall, bringing your hands up to run through his soft pink locks. He nibbled on the skin where your neck curved into your shoulder, causing you to gasp out in a way that sounded a little too sensual. The way he chuckled against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Eventually his lips left your skin, causing you to pout ever so slightly. Suddenly, he grasped both of your hands in his and got down on one knee in front of you.

“[y/n]... please”, he looked up at you with a pleading expression, “stay with me here. I understand if you only planned to stay here temporarily, but I want you to live here with me. I’ll will provide and care for you to the best of my ability. Anything you could ever want or need, you will have. We will live akin to royalty, and you will be the queen of our domain... and of me.”

You stood in front of him, mouth slightly parted in shock. I was undeniable that you and Billiam had formed some sort of bond during the past few months. Though you weren’t sure what kind of bond it was until now. There was attraction there as well. Billiam was quite handsome, and he clearly found you to be beautiful. Beautiful enough to be picked up and taken away in the middle of a bank robbery.

The day you left your village, you weren’t sure what motivated you to do it. After thinking on it for a long time, you concluded that maybe you were seeking out some much needed excitement in your life.

And something about the way Billiam looked at you was very exciting.

“Yes, Billiam... I will be your queen.”

He was on his feet again, wrapping his arms around you and bringing his lips to yours once again. Neither of you even bothered to say goodbye to any of the guests that night. He continued to kiss you as he led you through the quiet halls of his mansion, escorting you to his bed chambers for the night.

───※ ·❆· ※───

thank you to this anon for giving me my first ever request!

like i said earlier, i ended up writing SO MUCH more for this than i expected to, which was kinda cool. i ended up being very inspired by the storyline i came up with

anyways, i hope you enjoyed it! <3

-moonlight

[ellitx]

elli have you ever think about the twins caught [name] masturbation and moaned their name?

anon asked: Hi idk if you’ve received something like similar to this but, what do u think himmel and Venti would do if their fem s/o is touching their breasts or chest lmao. , they were just walking around the house and stumbled across their lover, laying and just doing her own stuff— Like, for us, its considered as our stress reliever and I can’t seem to get it off my head 🤣

You tried to relieve all your stress building inside you by touching yourself, imagining your two childhood friends touching you, kissing you, licking your body, breasts, and nipples. Thinking about the boys hours away from the meeting, you ran your hands down your belly. Your right forefinger touching your clitoris while the left forefinger goes deep inside you, pretending to be one of the twins’ penis.

What would their cock feel, surrounded by your soft, collapsing caves of flesh? You hate that your fingers aren't big enough, it’s too small unlike Venti’s. Though his hands are a bit calloused from constantly playing his guitar, you always love touching and tracing his fingers then to his knuckles, and you wonder what it would feel like if he inserts his digits in your sloppy and dripping cunt.

You shut your eyes tightly and moaned as you put in two fingers and spread your lips. You miss Venti. You miss Himmel. How long has it been since you’ve last seen them? The three of you were too busy with uni, unable to find the time to spend together, and the invitation to meet up together in your dorm brought a big smile to your face.

There are still two more hours left before they come knocking on your door. You want to take your time imagining them eating you out, fucking you, kissing you, and whispering in your ears how much they’ve missed holding you, their beloved and precious muse, lover, and friend. 

You moved your fingers to the rhythm, feeling the two inside get creamy as your clit began to become hard and red. 

“Hng… Venti~ Himmel— ah!” you gasped, the word nearly just a breath that they coaxed out of you with a sturdy thrust of their cocks. You envisioned Himmel looking down at you with lust in his eyes. A low, soft growl reverberated from his throat as he moved his lips to cover yours. He offered you a kiss, a gesture as sweet as him, and locked your tongue together with his.

Venti had a firm grasp on your hips and held you steady as he gave another thrust of his hips to reach deep inside you. Your moans were muffled by Himmel’s lips and it added another stimulation when Venti bit on your shoulder while he fucked you deeper and faster.

“Fuck… you’re… so tight…” He murmured against your skin while hugging you close to his chest. His fingers reached to your nipples to fiddle and pinch them. He loves to see every reaction he can get from you and he licked his lips seeing how red your face was with a little bit of drool coming from the corner of your mouth as you moaned and cried their names.

Himmel returned to trailing much softer bites around your neck and shoulders; shoving his dick profoundly until the tip reached deep inside your slick and clenching walls, then your words dissolved back into breathy and incohesive moans.

The rough pad of Venti’s fingers found your clit, and the moment he began to press rough— demanding circles into it— your mind went blank at the unusual euphoric happening to you all at once.

You angled your hips to directly press into his fingers and took more of Himmel’s cock in the process. The heat was coiling in your stomach, preparing itself to release a burst of pleasure, and you were almost there. 

Almost—

“Venti— Himmel… I-I’m coming…!”

And just like that, the hand on your clit and the cocks and fingers filling your holes disappeared. Both boys are gone, nowhere to be seen.

You wanted to cry. You were so close to your release. Your thighs shook with arousal, toes curling and uncurling as you lay there, deciding what to do. How long have you been touching yourself? 

You turned your head to face the alarm next to your bed. 

6:28 PM 

There’s still more time left before Venti and Himmel will come here. Might as well get yourself off and reach your own release. You placed your hand back to your wet pussy and in a few moments, you were back to the point of almost reaching the edge, almost finally reaching the orgasm that you’ve always wanted.

You murmured their names breathily, your face flushed red from the recent unwholesome thoughts of the twins while you raised your other free hand to cup your breast and rub your nipples with your thumb, pulling and squeezing them occasionally. You pressed your thighs together and buried your face on the pillow to muffle your moans, moving your fingers faster and deeper in your cunt.

As you get closer, you moaned their names again, not quite meaning to and not quite thinking about what it would do. You said it like a mantra, crying those two familiar names of the twins you’ve loved so much again and again and again so loudly each time it slipped from your mouth before losing the ability to speak and just focused on pumping one hand to brush your clit— fucking yourself with your fingers— and the other to knead your breasts. The dual sensation is enough to send you over the edge.

You arched your back tightly as you imagined both of them sucking your breasts hysterically as you came. Your entire body released in a flood of pent-up tension and arousal, your fingers still helping you through the aftershocks as your lips were parted a bit in a silent cry.

For a moment, you remained still with your eyes closed, just basking in the sensation. It felt so nice along with the rush of pleasure running throughout your body.

Your eyes jolted open when you hear a faint creaking of a door and muffled whispers. 

“T-that’s enough already! She’ll get mad at us for sure if she sees us!” Himmel whisper-yelled to his brother, his face painted with a tint of red as he pushed Venti to move.

“I was just making sure she’s fine! She wasn’t answering our calls, that's why we have to rush here to check up on her.” The other retorted back with a visage similar to the older twin. Both of them never expected to see you touching yourself, your slim body erotically exposed for their eyes and mind to drink in. It was clear as a day from all the things you’ve done to yourself as you panted and moaned their respective names.

They turned their head when the door to your room slammed open and both eyes went wide to see you standing there naked. No blanket nor clothes to cover your body. 

Himmel was the first one to speak, ready to apologize and explain everything.

“[N-Name], it’s not what it looks like! We were about to— hmph?!” 

Himmel felt his heart loudly pounding against his chest. The sudden sensation of your lips locked against his surely shocked him. You moved your lips in unfamiliar patterns he tried to mimic with his own. You felt the electricity pulsing through your veins. The kiss engulfed you both and you tightly clutched onto his shirt. As you leaned forward, you heard a small gasp from him as you slipped your tongue in his mouth to intertwine with his.

A surprising kiss from you, nonetheless he welcomed it. His shoulders relaxed and he reluctantly rested his hand on your back and the other to cup your cheek to pull you close to him. His thumb ran along the curve of your cheekbone and you nestled into his hand, feeling his warmth seep into yours. Your soft, round breasts were pressing against his lean body and he got himself lost to the feeling of your soft lips.

Breaking the kiss, a string of saliva was connected to yours and his lips and both of you panted heavily. You didn’t spare another glance to the older twin as you quickly stride to where Venti was standing and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You tiptoed to reach his height to give him a passionate and sweet kiss.

Venti didn’t hesitate to return it. He brought his hands to the back of your neck while the other settled on your hips. You moved closer to him, feeling his warmth into yours.

Lips leaving yours, his breath was hot as his kisses trailed down your neck. His hands held your back, sucking your skin to create a mark, and you arched, begging for more.

“Mine,” he growled.

You dragged your nails down his back and tightly gripped on his clothing as you tilt your head to the side for him to gain more access and moan his name. Himmel, who was still half-fazed by your kiss, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he walks behind you and copies what his brother is doing.

“I believe she’s ours, Venti.” The frail man corrected before gently grabbing your chin to face him and continue the kiss you’ve initiated on him. After a short session of marking and kissing you, they stopped and looked at you with a loving and longing gaze.

“Archons, we miss you so much, [Name]. You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to hold you like this.” Venti nuzzled his face to your hair before giving a short yet sweet kiss on your temple.

“So am I. All these tests and research have been hindering us to meet you. I’m glad we’re finally done with them. It’s an absolute torture not being able to spend time together with you.” Sighed Himmel as he lovingly strokes your sides and gives a kiss to your cheek.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation of their lips, cuddling closer to them before leaving your own loving affection to them. 

“I missed you both so much,” You closed your eyes and rested your head against Venti’s chest to listen to the calming and rhythmic beat of his heart.

You felt a finger running along your thighs so sensually and you squeaked when a hand was stroking your pussy. You forgot you were completely naked in front of them. You gulped down your dry saliva, both in excitement and nervousness, and turned your head away from them, multiple fingers continuing to play and brush along your inner thighs and curves of your breasts. The slick on your legs messed with their digits but they paid no mind to it as their focus is completely fixed on you, too captivated and aroused by the sight of your nude form.

“So wet. Seems like we have to take care of our princess, brother.”

“You don’t have to say it out loud. You’re making her embarrassed.” The older twin scolded before turning to you and giving a sweet smile before he leaned down to whisper in your ears. His hot breath brings a rush of excitement and arousal through your nerves, you practically want them to fill your holes so madly, coat your body with their cum, and eat you out as they bury their head deeply between your legs.

“Just relax for us and we’ll handle this, okay?”

[whisperlullaby]

Just Say It And I’m Yours-Ch.1

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language, stalking ish themes

Words: 1490

Summary: Steve is considering retiring from being Captain America. He doesn’t remember why he took the shield or what it means for him anymore. Then he met you. 

A/N: First and foremost I am SO SORRY FOR BEING SO SHIT AT SUMMARIES. I just don’t want to give anything away. Second, this is my first series! So like, comment, reblog, let me know you want to see more of this. This story is going to start in Steve’s perspective and switch to the readers. I’ll let you guys know when the POV is shifting so no worries. So, this first chapter is told through Steve. Third, if I missed any warnings please let me know. Last but most CERTAINTLY not least, a very VERY special thanks to @river-soul​ for reading through this and assuring me it was a good first chapter. I am so grateful for you. Let me know what you think! (Gif by @navybrat817 )

“Steve, she's getting married tomorrow,” Bucky solemnly states as he puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “If you’re going to do something you better do it soon.” 

“I know Buck, but what could I say to her? I haven’t been able to tell her how I feel about her for years.” Steve looked out over the lake, his eyes pricking with tears. “She made her decision.” 

“You’re an idiot. You’ve been in love with her since you first saw her. If you don’t tell her, she’s going to make the biggest mistake of her life. We both know that,” Bucky sighed, raking a hand over his face. “I know she loves you. You need to talk to her. She can’t marry him Steve, you know the second she does she’ll be gone forever. The person you knew reduced to, whatever this shell of a person is.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and looked down where the water was gently lapping against the shore. After a few moments, he heard Bucky make his way back to the lodge. As the small waves ebbed and flowed against the shallow shore Steve thought about you and how he was an absolute coward back when you were a big part of his life. 

One and a half years ago

Steve was sketching at Marine Park in Brooklyn during golden hour when everything seemed to glow. He needed a break from his Captain America responsibilities and every time he put his charcoal to the paper everything seemed to melt away. The world was vastly different since he came out of the ice and he felt his heart swell thinking about all the fights he had to endure in order to restore some semblance of peace in the universe. He was happy that he had his best friend back, cleared of the mind control Hydra put in him and he made so many new friends and a family in The Avengers. Yet, as he drew out the skyline on the thick white paper, he couldn’t help but feel like he was still missing something. He knew he needed a break from his duties to figure it out constantly being pulled into a fight was a great distraction, but he knew he needed to figure out what brought meaning to his life. The decision to take time off gnawed at Steve like a dog to a bone, who was he if he wasn’t Captain America?

Steve heard you before he saw you, picking up the fierce tone you were using made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of your reprimand. Steve looked up to see you wedged in between a woman and her dog and a man probably twice your size towering over you, trying to be intimidating. The fact you stepped forward refusing to back down made Steve smile, oddly fond of your bravery. The commotion you were making drew a small crowd and Steve felt a strange pull to join the group to be close to you. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Following this poor woman around like a stalker,” You yelled, poking your finger in his chest. “Did you think she was being coy when she told you to stop following her? Was that some deranged invitation to keep on top of her the rest of the world is unaware of?”

Steve could tell that you were not about to back down as you protected the other woman. The fire in your eyes was something Steve was familiar with in himself before he went into the ice. He noticed the man ball his hands into fists and before you could react he had pulled back to hit you. Steve jumped in and caught the punch, inches from your face.

“You’re gonna want to walk away pal before you make things worse for yourself.” 

Steve’s voice was low in warning. When he glanced over at you, you looked up at him almost offended that he had stepped in. Before Steve could say anything you returned your gaze to the other man and swiftly kneed him in the balls. 

“Stop following women you fucking asshole,” you admonished as the man crumpled to the ground in pain. “I know you probably have a hard time listening to women when they say no because there is just a bunch of empty space where your brain is supposed to be, but maybe take this as a warning.” 

Steve watched you slack jawed as you flagged down a police officer to give a statement to. He observed you as you spoke with the other woman, who was visibly shaken by the incident, with such genuine concern and kindness. He couldn’t stop looking at you as you soothed her with gentle touches and quiet whispers. Steve waited for his turn to speak with the officers regarding the incident, after which the man was taken into custody. When Steve turned around you were walking towards him. 

“Umm thanks for catching the punch,” you said with a shrug. “I could have taken him though.” 

Steve let out a soft chuckle. 

“Well I wouldn’t be much of a superhero if I stood around and let a civilian get clocked for defending someone.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. 

“Yeah but you’re not in the suit, which means you’re off duty. Either way I’m grateful, I have a job interview tomorrow and can’t really show up with a black eye. It wouldn’t really say ‘hire me I’m even tempered and have a keen ability to moderate conflict in a calm respectful manner.’ ”

Steve smiled, letting out a sigh as he cast his eyes to the ground.

 “Oh sweetheart I’m always on duty, comes with the territory.” 

He looked up to see you watching him with kindness and understanding.

“I’m sure that must be a very heavy burden to carry,” You sighed. “I hope you can take a vacation or something soon. It looks like you might need one.”

To say Steve was enamored by you would be the understatement of the century. In the brief time he had spent with you, he had noticed that you were fierce, kind, honest, compassionate, and absolutely stunning. He found himself physically having to shake his head to keep from staring at you.

“I’m Steve,” he blurted out. “I feel like you already know that though. It was really nice of you to say that. Sometimes I only see myself as Captain America, no vacation days in sight.” 

Steve chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Y/N, and I mean it. You shouldn’t feel like you’re always on duty.”  

You pointed your finger at his chest.

“Besides, I’m a tough girl, I can handle myself. You should trust people a bit more Rogers.” 

You gave Steve a cheeky grin and started walking away.

Steve scrambled to follow you, not ready to have your conversation end.

“So, job interview? What do you do?” 

Steve easily kept your stride. When you chuckled Steve swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Would you believe I’m a victim advocate? I have an interview with the state prosecutor. I make sure anyone who has experienced trauma of any sort is represented and protected during court cases and criminal trials,” you stated proudly. 

“After what I just witnessed, I would have been more surprised if you told me you were an accountant.” Steve joked. “Would it be okay if I walked you wherever you’re going? I know you can handle yourself but I’d like to make sure you don’t leave a trail of broken men in your wake.”

You snorted out laughter. 

“Yeah wouldn’t want to get put away for attacking more skeezy men. That sounds great Captain, thank you.”

Steve smiled and kept asking you questions on your walk. He had this need to know everything he could about you since you blew into his life like a sunshower. When Steve got you back to your apartment the sun was just setting.

“Well Rogers, it’s been an interesting day,” you say, nonchalantly fiddling with your keys.

“I’ll say, I didn’t think my day would consist of watching someone stand up for another woman who almost got punched, then kneeing the guy in the balls.” 

Steve smiled.

“I am pleasantly surprised with the way my day turned out,” he told you.

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from if you stick with me Cap.” 

You smirked at Steve grabbing his sketchbook. 

“Here’s my number, if you ever need a little extra adventure in your life, call me,” you said. 

With that you turned the key in the lock and pushed yourself inside the apartment. Steve was left to stand staring at your closed door. He didn’t know what force drove you into his life but knowing you for those few hours made him feel more alive than he had in years.

[talesofesther]

Confessions

Jack Sparrow x Reader

Requested by @buzzed-beebee​​​

Summary: After a long night of drinking, Jack ends up sleeping together with Y/N, which makes him realize his growing feelings for the girl.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Jack, so I'm sorry if it's not perfect, but I really enjoyed this and want to write more for him. Idk if this turned out exactly how you wanted, but I hope it's good enough ♥.

Masterlist

The salty and cool breeze of the sea kissed Y/N's skin as she lazily made her way up onto the Black Pearl, Jack following close behind her. It was already late at night and the moon was adorning the night sky, they had stopped in Tortuga to restock, but mainly to give the crew a break and allow everyone a night of partying and drinking only, after spending almost three months at sea.

Y/N's mind was blurred by all the alcohol she had consumed, the girl wasn't usually one to drink, but when you are under the influence of crewmates it's hardly possible to not chuck down a drink or two. But soon Y/N had already lost count of how many glasses of rum she had and her feet were already wobbly and her thoughts weren't as sharp as they used to be.

Jack's eyes followed Y/N's form as she stumbled on the deck of his ship, a tiny smile adorning his face. As surprising as it was, he wasn't nearly as drunk as Y/N was. He drank his share of rum, of course, but made sure to keep his mind focused to watch his ship. He wasn't going to let his beloved Pearl be stolen from him over a mistake of having too many drinks, not again.

Although deep down Jack knew this wasn't the only reason for his soberness, for when they entered the tavern, he instantly noticed the hungry eyes that the men there threw towards Y/N. It made his stomach twist in an unpleasant way and he would never forgive himself if he was too drunk to defend her from any unwanted attention.

"Jack, we need to do this more times" Y/N's giggles captured the pirate's attention. She was loosely holding a half-empty bottle of rum in her hand as she did her best to stay balanced with the waves that were gently rocking the ship.

The faint moonlight glow gave the girl's eyes an almost heavenly shine, Jack nearly lost himself in them. "Certainly, but..." He took slow strides towards Y/N and took the bottle from her hands. "I think you've had enough for one night, savvy?"

Y/N scoffed and lightly pushed Jack's chest. "Bullshit, I'm not even that drunk" her speech was slurred, proving herself wrong.

Even in her drunk state, Y/N couldn't stop her heart from beating loudly in her chest because of how close Jack was standing to her. She was glad they were currently the only ones aboard the ship, for she could look into those pretty dark eyes of his just a tad longer without worrying about the comments. Y/N liked him, there was no mystery there, and maybe Jack liked her too, but none of them had ever acted on the matter.

"So captain" the girl cleared her throat and walked towards Jack's cabin. "What is our next heading?" She leaned down on his table to look at the maps there, squinting her eyes to try and comprehend what she was seeing, but she couldn't seem to focus.

Jack grimaced and thought for a minute, settling the bottle down he walked inside his cabin as well. It wasn't new to have Y/N there with him, she knew she always had free access to his quarters on the ship whenever she wanted, but something about tonight made him feel uncharacteristically insecure. "Still thinking about it, love" Jack said in his usual nonchalant tone.

Raising her head towards him, Y/N smirked. "I'm sure you'll think of something" it was only a faint statement to fill the silence as she made her way to stand in front of Jack.

"You always do" feeling bold, or not being able to filter her actions because of the rum, Y/N raised one hand and lightly traced Jack's cheek.

The pirate frowned at her actions, his lips slightly ajar. Her touch made him shiver with nervousness and calmed him at the same time. With his eyes half-closed, he leaned in until his nose was touching hers and their breaths were mingling. But he stopped himself, it didn't feel right to take advantage of her like this, even if it was everything that he wanted. His hands were prickling to pull her closer.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Y/N's request was nothing but a whisper, she didn't feel like leaving his side just yet.

Her words made Jack blink multiple times to pull himself out of the trance her proximity had captured him in. "Love, I don't think that's something you would be happy with in the morning" he gestured around with his hands and took a tiny step away from her, an unsure smile on his face.

"Why not?" The girl chuckled and shook her head. She abruptly turned around and almost fell to the ground when the whole room started to spin, but somehow Y/N managed to stay on her feet and walk to Jack's enormous bed, where she threw herself down on the comfy mattress. "Oh this bed is so comfy" she mumbled to herself.

Y/N extended one of her arms up towards Jack, who was eyeing her intently. "Come here let's talk then, I promise I'll leave later"

Her drunken and cute smile was just enough to make Jack surrender himself to her and lay down on his bed as well, making sure to keep a good distance between them. He was never one to admit to feelings, he mostly avoided them to be honest. But his heart ached at how much he wanted this to be real, and not some drunken mistake that Y/N would probably not even remember in the morning.

"Jack, why don't you want me to stay?" The girl laid on her side and looked at Jack with big and innocent eyes.

He let out a long sigh and fidget with his fingers before he turned to face her as well. "You're the one who wouldn't want to stay, believe me" he was no stranger to how much she hated the comments that sometimes floated around the ship whenever they were seen standing too close for too long. All in all, he presumed it was because she didn't like him like that.

Y/N stayed silent for a good couple of seconds working her hazy mind to make sense of what he had said. "No, no. I'm the one who asked to stay, how can you say that?"

"That's the rum in you talking" Jack tried to reason with her, bringing his hand up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

Y/N gently took his wrist on her hand and moved closer to him, until their noses were once again touching. "Jack, you know I've always liked you"

Her sentence made him audibly gulp, and he finds his words stuck in his throat. She had no right to play with his heart like that.

Moving her head forward, Y/N sweetly closes the distance between them, giving Jack a gentle peck on the lips. His lips are surprisingly soft against hers, and she finds it odd that he doesn't move to deepen the kiss.

When she pulls away, Jack still has his eyes closed, he feels vulnerable around her. "Love, you shouldn't-" he makes his voice work, but is soon silenced by Y/N's lips colliding with his own once again.

This time the urge to pull her close consumes him completely and he loosely snakes an arm around her waist, bringing her body to stay flush against his. Jack tells himself she's not different from any other girl he's kissed before, that there's nothing more to it. But it's hard to deny the strong tug of emotion in his chest as her lips move against his. She tastes like rum, but is much more intoxicating than the drink itself.

They break apart when their lungs ask for air, but none of them pulls away more than necessary. "What... Was that?" Jack's voice is low and small, the effect she had on him is evident in his whole demeanor.

"A kiss" Y/N gave him a small and tired smile. Jack could already see the way she was fighting to keep her eyes open, and he tensed.

"You should go now, darling" he said, but made no effort to remove his arm from around her.

"But I want to stay with you" Y/N's mumbled words were hard to understand, but Jack did, and they tugged at his heart. He sighed and hugged the girl closer to him, placing a tender kiss on her forehead and resting his head just above hers. His arms were securely around her body and he hated how much he loved to have her close.

He caressed her back until he could feel her steady breathing on his neck, meaning she was already asleep. Jack took way longer to be able to sleep himself. His mind was troubled with the fact that he might actually have fallen for the girl in his arms, and if anything that happened tonight meant anything to her.

______

Jack woke up the next morning alone, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He wished he wasn't so sober last night, just so he could forget how her lips felt like against him, and not want to feel it again. And again. And again. He tried to not make a big deal about the way his stomach dropped and how his heart ached for her.

But for the whole day, Y/N ignored him, avoided him even. The Black Pearl left Tortuga and sailed to sea once again, Jack's compass followed Y/N's every move around the deck and that was the last confirmation he needed to admit to himself he was having feelings for her. When the sun started to set, the captain couldn't take the anxiety anymore and told Gibbs to take the helm.

Jack found Y/N in the ship's storage, organizing their new supplies. He wasn't one to feel nervous, but the thought of rejection made his hands twitch and his heart rate pick up.

"Y/N" upon hearing his voice, the girl froze and bit her lip. Seeing no way out of it, she turned around to him.

"Jack... Captain" Y/N said in a serious tone. Her mind was still placing together all that happened last night, her memories were a bit fuzzy. But waking up cuddled close to Jack, that she remembered clearly.

Jack opened his mouth and moved his hands around, trying to not make a big deal of his nerves. "You've been... Distant" he shrugged, not really sure about what to say or how to ask the one thing he wanted to know.

Y/N sighed heavily. "Look, whatever happened last night, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." The girl thought for a moment, her eyes meeting Jack's expectant ones. "... Cross any boundaries"

Jack pouted at her words and moved towards her, licking his lips he slowly raised his hands to either side of her face but didn't quite touch her. "But was it... Real?" He raised his eyebrows to her, doing his best to mask his beating heart and how vulnerable he was right now.

Y/N's expression softened, she looked down to his lips and back up at his big and gentle eyes. "It was" was all she could whisper.

Jack's hands finally cupped her cheeks, his thumbs tracing her soft skin there. He felt dazed and almost light-headed with the information that she did, in fact, really felt something towards him. No one has ever made him feel these kinds of emotions, he felt a lump forming on his throat.

"You okay, Jack?" Y/N's gentle voice made him smile.

"More than okay, love" for once Jack allowed his feelings to be shown in his voice. He leaned in, and once again captured her lips on his.

[dadsbongos]

Red Scare

Movie/Game/Show: Marvel Dynamic: Peter Parker/Reader Warnings: some au where everyone’s in the compound and happy because :), i wrote out a russian accent for pronunciation purposes (it’s then quickly wrote out but hey), “slowburn” written by someone impatient, fem pronouns Summary: Peter just really wants to hold your hand and gets embarrassed by Nat and Tony to do it. Word Count: 3.5K ~~~

Steve was the one who’d found you originally. Well, fought you - to be accurate. The super soldier was a target you’d been put on as a Widow when Natasha found you both and broke the fight up. She’d just barely managed to convince Steve to keep you around - insisting that she could help defect you from Widowing and mold you into a new Avenger. It’d worked for her, surely, it’d work for you too - she just needed time. Time that, while hesitant to do so, Steve eventually granted.

Natasha graciously took you under her wing and began teaching you about American culture and how to blend in for more than spy work.

Now, Natasha watches with furrowed brows as Wanda approaches you. She had her arms crossed tensely as you two came to a meet in the middle of the room. She watches you, her dear student, reach out, hesitating before softly taking Wanda by the shoulders and leaning in to gently kiss her left cheek, then right, then left again.

“Okay,” Natasha put up her hands, signaling the two to stop, “so, ученик, you see where you went wrong there? If Wanda’s a stranger, you wouldn’t kiss her on the cheeks, right?”

“Vanda is friend, no?” you gestured between you and the other woman.

“She is,” Natasha nodded before jabbing your forehead with her index finger, “but you need to pretend she isn’t, just for right now.”

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you huffed, “Vhat? I’m bad guy because zis is ridiculous?”

“No one’s trying to say you’re the bad guy,” Wanda gave you a smile and pat on the shoulder, “Just in need of a little more practice.”

“We should start working with accents,” Bucky pitches in for the first time since ‘American etiquette’ lessons began that day, “Her’s is a dead giveaway.”

Natasha nodded before glancing over at the clock, “I’m sure you’d love to do that one, big guy.”

“Why me?” Bucky sat up straighter - he was no good with one-on-one interactions unless they were fights, and with your upbringing in the Red Room, Bucky was certain you didn’t need any combat training.

“I’ve got a mission to get to with Wanda,” the assassin pat the man’s arm with a teasing grin, “So, unless you wanna see who else is available for that, just sit tight till we’re back.”

The two redheads were out before Bucky could even reply, a sigh leaving his lips at the new awkwardness of the situation. It wasn’t even his idea to be involved - he just got looped in because of his time with HYDRA. Which, in his opinion, was unfair - Natasha and Wanda were at least actually Eastern European, he was lumped in by association. He stood, beginning out of the common room with a nod for you to follow, muttering under his breath.

“If I may,” you interject, nearly rushing to keep up with Bucky’s hurried strides, “zat eh, Spider. Spider boy. Is only one home. Stark, maybe. But Spider, definitely”

“Parker…” the man takes a glance at you, trying to shove his disdain for the boy back, “Sure. He should be in the lab.”

It doesn’t take long to find Peter with Tony, Bucky knocking on the doorframe to catch both of their attention, “We need help teaching accents.”

“And articles,” Tony interjects, pushing a stool beside Peter’s and motioning for you to sit, “Unfortunately for you, lavalantula, it’s hard to take you seriously when you say things like ‘get in house’ like a cavewoman.”

“Mr. Stark- “

Before Peter has the chance to defend you, you’re quirking a brow at the man and putting your own two cents into his take, “In fairness, vhat idiot vould get in different house?”

“Accent and articles!” Peter claps, a forced smile bright on his lips, “Will do, Mr. Barnes, you can trust me.”

“I really don’t,” Bucky glares at the poor boy all while he leaves, “If she starts making references to your movies, I’ll personally bring you harm.”

“Opposed to what?” Peter murmured, “Impersonal harm?”

That brought a small laugh from between your lips, causing Peter to perk up once again at the positive attention. It isn’t every day he gets to make a former Russian assassin laugh, he supposes he should take it as a compliment.

He cleared his throat as Tony went about the lab, “Alright, I think that first we should start with articles.”

“Sounds pointless.”

“They kind of are, but we use them here, so…” he scratches at the back of his head, “How about we try making the ‘th’ sound first, sound good?”

“Not really.”

It was a few days with learning from Peter, but you’d felt as though so much progress was made towards the lessening of a Russian accent. Or maybe the praise that slipped from Peter’s lips just made the most minor step forward seem like a leap. The praise brought a new bubble of joy in your chest, one that was never there when Wanda, or the ever rare Natasha, complimented your work. Maybe it’s because Peter was born and raised in America that made it seem more valid - maybe it was his buzz and excitement at teaching. Maybe it was just him.

“Why don’t you try telling me about your day, to get used to speaking with what you learned so far?”

“Uh,” you fumbled, trying to translate the events in your head before speaking, “I woke up. I trained v- with Thor. Then he left for mission,” you paused, realizing your mistake and sighing.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Peter was quick to jump in when he assumed self-doubts were bubbling up, “You’ve got a lot of time to learn, don’t beat yourself up over a mistake. English is a pain in the ass to learn, you should be proud of yourself for picking it up so fast.”

“Yeah?” he could sense the hesitant disbelief in your voice.

Even so, he didn’t let up, giving a confident nod, “Yeah. Just start over whenever. You were doing really well.”

You took a moment to plan out the response in your head, running through it internally a few times before giving Peter a verbal run through, “I woke up. I trained with Thor. Then he left for a mission. I went to the lab. Now I’m here - with you.”

“See? You’re already doing so well, you should be proud. We can work on elongating sentences later down the line, but this is already pretty great!”

You take a moment, planning the pronunciation in your head before responding, “Thank you, Parker.”

“Peter,” he jumps to say, shrinking back slightly at his own eagerness, “Peter is fine, if you wanna call me that.”

“Piter,” you try the name on your tongue.

“I don’t think we’re saying it the same way,” he nods curtly, “but that’s okay! Doesn’t have to be perfect the first time.”

“I would like to try again,” you whisper his name to yourself a few times before repeating it aloud, “Peter…”

“Right! Wow, you’re so good at this already,” Peter turns to Tony, who’s doing a poor job of pretending he wasn’t listening to the pair, “Isn’t she smart, Mr. Stark?”

“Coming from you, kid? That’s a big compliment.”

“I think it’s well-deserved,” he gives you a chuckle, “I really mean it, you’re good at this and this is just a few days into working on your accent.”

“You think so?” there’s a wave of sheepishness that comes with Peter’s attention, with his wide-eyed, all-believing stares that leads you to scratch at the back of your neck, “Good. I would not enjoy to be a bother for long.”

“Not a bother, at all. I like spending time with you, even if it’s just to teach you about American accents.”

Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head, honestly not believing the words as they come out of his mouth, “You two live together, you could hang out whenever you want, kid.”

“Oh, yeah, huh?” Peter’s eyes seem to come alive again, “We should, then. Hang out, I mean. Outside of these accent lessons, unless you don’t want to.”

“No, no,” you feel a small, unfamiliar smile stretch over your own lips, “I vou- would. I would like that, very much.”

“Yep,” Tony slaps a stack of papers on the desk before beginning to make his exit, “Definitely have to work on those sentence frames, Captain Ivan.”

For the duration of Natasha’s absence, you’ve stopped coming to Bucky for lessons on Americanization. Sneaking off with Peter to the kitchen when you can.

"I used to think that melancholy was a vegetable."

"You're genius enough to catch Stark's attention, but thought melancholy was the name of vegetable?"

"Doesn't it sound like it though? Can you really tell me I'm wrong?"

"No, no, I can see it. Like celery and the uh, the one fruit. They had a baby."

"The one fruit?"

"The one, I forgot the word. Don't you have a word for дыня?"

"You do realize I have no idea what you just said, right?"

Sometimes to either of your rooms, or walking together around the perimeter of the building, or traversing through the little garden Wanda had been working hard on.

"Would you like some food? I'm ordering."

"I don't have any money, sorry."

"I did not ask if you had money, Peter. Do you want food or not?"

"But I can't pay you back and then I feel all icky on the inside part."

"Think of it as gift then, no paying back needed. Gift for being a good friend."

"Aw, you think I'm a good friend?"

"If I had to have a first friend, then I'm glad it was you. You're a good person, Peter. I'm glad we met."

"I'm really glad we met, too."

Little times set apart to spend time together that always begin as lessons.

"You ever heard of solipsism?"

"Maybe, what is it?"

"Uh, the belief that everything around you was created in your mind."

"Then yes, why, Peter?"

"Well, I just was thinking… You know, if everything around me is imaginary then you're the best thing I've ever come up with."

"Peter…"

"I'm sorry, was that too cheesy?"

"No, I just- it was really nice, actually. Thank you."

"Well, don't thank me, it's true."

Times that quickly morphed into discussions on Peter’s favorite movies or what little parts you miss of home.

"Would you ever go back? Like, to Russia?"

"Only if I had to. Too many poor memories there."

"What would be 'having to'?"

"If someone I really cared about needed me to. You or Natasha, mostly."

"You'd go back for me?"

"If you were in need of saving and I had to return to Russia to do it, yes, I'd go back."

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard."

"Peter, it is quite actually the bare minimum in terms of saving you."

Nobody expected it to last longer than the time that Natasha was gone - she was like a big sister to you, a safeplace when the Tower felt cold. So, when she came home and you didn’t re-glue yourself to her hip - people were quick to notice.

“I didn’t think Parker could get worse,” Sam noted under his breath, “But there he is, digging underneath the bar.”

Truly, Sam could’ve just looked away - but it was hard to do that when he was watching Peter fucking Parker, the littlest Avenger, try to win a game of footsies with you at the kitchen island. It’d be a cute sight if Sam weren’t the one having to see it.

“I’m staying out of it,” Bucky shook his head, staring down at the table as he pushed his food around his plate, “I haven’t been hungry since they got in here.”

Suddenly, Peter stands, “You’re low on coffee,” he points down at your mug before moving around the counter to the pot, “Do you want more? Just, while I’m up and here.”

“I hate that kid,” Sam shook his head, standing up and starting out of the kitchen, “I hope she rejects his ass.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Steve muttered, “In a way only an ex-Widow could manage.”

“She would’ve eaten him alive on the field, you know?” Bucky shook his head as he watched Peter contently refill your coffee and you give a rare smile only he and Natasha ever really knew, “I miss those days.”

“You try so hard to content me…” you begin, unaware of the conversation behind you, and tap your fingers on the counter’s marble, “Why?”

“You seem nice,” he shrugs, deflating when all you shoot him with in return is a skeptical look, “You do - you are. I like spending time with you.”

Before he can scold himself, you’re smiling again, patting his shoulder, “Thanks, Peter, you’re reassuring. I will be training with Nat if you need me.”

Peter expected a lot of things in his life - joint pain when he’s old, to be an Avenger with Mr. Stark, for missions to not always go perfectly, but gaining a crush on a girl who, admittedly, kind of intimidated him, wasn’t one of those things. But, also admittedly, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome, he’s noticed. He waits for Steve to make his exit before turning in his stool to face the only other man left in the room.

“Hey, Mr. Barnes?”

“Oh my- what?”

“You know Miss Romanoff, right?”

“Nat?”

“No, that’s Ms. Romanoff.”

“You mean ученик?”

“Sure, yeah, that’s what you guys call her.”

“Why are you calling her ‘Romanoff’, that’s not her last name at all.”

“No, but she’s like Ms. Romanoff's sister, or daughter, or something, so it fit. Anyway, do you know her?”

“Yes, Parker, obviously I know her.”

“Well, I think I may or may not like her like more than a friend, a lot, and I was wondering if you knew what she was into? Like date-wise… or gift-wise… or hey, even partner-wise, if she talks about that, ever.”

“She doesn’t and please don’t involve me in this. Go ask Nat.”

And so, Peter does ask Nat.

He makes up an excuse about wanting to be more agile on the field to drag her away from you before popping the question, “Do you think she likes me?”

Natasha doesn’t need clarification, she’s seen the way Peter looks at you whenever you’re around each other. It’s sweet. It’s like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time. He’s so attentive and soft towards you. Sure, the dynamic of a gentle-natured superhero from Queens and a Russian ex-Widow, current Avenger-in-training is a little strange, but she’s all for it if it means you’re happy. You’re like the little sister she so desperately wants back.

“She might,” the redhead shrugs, “Poor ученик isn’t so open with her feelings, kid. I can barely get her to open up about what she thought about dinner let alone her feelings towards the others,” when the boy’s face drops, she tilts him by the chin to meet her eyes, “That being said, I’ll talk to her. She’s a lot nicer to you than she is with the rest of the team so I wouldn’t kill that hope so fast.”

Peter barely manages to smother down a smile before nodding, giving an awkward thumbs up, and racing back down the hall, a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” echoing after him.

Nat purses her lips in thought of who could be able to help her. Who was nosy enough and bothersome enough to try and set up two teenagers?

“Hey,” Tony pointed to the group of Natasha, Wanda, Bucky, and yourself on the couch, “Red Scare, in the training room.”

“Vh- Which one of us are you referring to?”

The man simply tapped the door frame with a nod, “Five minutes or I’m docking your missions.”

“He can’t do that,” Bucky shook his head, eyes narrowing as realization sat in, “Can he?”

And so, in under five minutes, the quartet found themselves in the training room with Tony.

“Underoos needs some training with fighting tactics known to HYDRA - so, who here wants to be the helpful little hero to do that?”

You look between the others, quirking a brow and shaking your head, “HYDRA is not a hub of top secret fighting techniques, it would be like pairing Peter with anybody else.”

“Sounds like you need to get familiar with other fighting styles then,” Natasha tuts, “I’ve let you off too easy just training with me.”

“I literally fight Steve and Thor all the time, there isn’t much difference just because he’s American,” you narrow your eyes at the woman, “If you both are up to something just admit it now.”

“No, no, there’s definitely a difference,” Bucky pitches in - though clearly not content with being roped into the mess of getting Parker a girlfriend, “He’s all in-your-face and forceful, you’re more like sneak-and-stab.”

“Because I am spy and he is fighter!” you shout, looking to Wanda with wide eyes, “Am I being the specific one? I feel as though I am not being the specific one.”

Wanda feels guilt run through her veins as she shrugs, actively knowing she’s aiding in tricking you, “You should give it a try. For comparison reasons.”

“You’re all making me feel crazy and I do not like it, I am at least a little certain this is a form of manipulation.”

“You’re a spy, you should be able to tell,” Bucky pats your back, “Anyway, I’m busy - you have to fight the kid.”

“Vision and I had a dinner reservation,” Wanda ducks out of the room quickly.

Tony points at you with raised brows, “You got it then, Xenia Onatopp?”

“I- “ you sigh and throw your hands up in defeat, “I suppose I do.”

A few minutes later, Peter is shoved into the training room while you stuff on a pair of gloves - eyes sliding over to the doorway to look at his jumpy form. You scoff, “They are up to something and I feel like I know what.”

“What? What - what do you mean?” Peter nervously crosses his arms and tilts his head, “Up to what?”

“Peter,” you raise a brow at him in question, “do you expect me to believe you are dumb? They are making us spend time together like this, what could that possibly mean?”

His mouth opens and closes, eyes avoiding your gaze like it’s deadly, “Who knows, honestly?”

Shaking your head, you begin removing your gloves, “Okay then, do not talk to me until you are ready to tell the truth.”

“Wait!” Peter latches onto your hand as you pass him by the doorway, “Wait, wait, wait… I- I’m sorry. I just really like you and so I asked Ms. Romanoff for help and I didn't think that she’d team up with Mr. Stark because nothing really good comes from Mr. Stark meddling in things other than tech and saving the world, but she did and they did this. I would’ve said something but you’re just really cool and I was scared you wouldn’t like me back so I tried to see if Ms. Romanoff could test the waters for me.”

“You see where that was a mistake, right?” you reach up, brushing your hand through Peter’s bangs, “I do like you, Peter. A lot. So I would appreciate you being upfront with me rather than looking through Natasha for answers.”

“Right, and I’m sorry- “

“Was honest mistake, Peter, do not worry any longer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would not have said so if I wasn’t. I do not like your worry.”

Peter wrought his hands together, lips pursed, "Can we not pretend to train and just hang out then?"

"Are you certain you do not want me to kick your ass?"

“Well, now that you said that I feel pressure to prove that you won’t,” Peter shook his head and sighed, “I’m okay with taking a loss today.”

“You didn’t even try, didn’t even initiate.”

“So I’m the bad guy cuz I don’t wanna get my ass kicked, okay,” the boy sarcastically muttered before laying his back against the wall and sliding down to the floor, “Hey, you’re bilingual, right?” at your nod of confirmation, he continued, “What language do you think in? Russian?”

You pondered the question before shrugging, “I’m not even sure I think.”

---

“So,” Natasha looks between the two, “how was the training?”

“Awful,” Peter shakes his head, “Hated it.”

“Right… and you, ученик?”

You look over to Peter, his subtle grin and fidgety movements, before shrugging, “He’s a child,” you sigh, “Terrible.”

“Oh, is that so?” Natasha squints between the two of you.

You both nod in unison, “Definitely.”

“Anyway,” you cut in quickly, “we are off to ask Thor to let us try and lift Mjolnir. Please, don’t meddle in teenagers who have will-they-won’t-they scenarios, just let us be awkward about it.”

“What she said,” Peter grinned broadly before gently tapping his finger against your hand and withholding a small cheer when you intertwined your hand with his and led him through the halls to find Thor.

He was almost scared how much he enjoyed the feeling of your hand in his, something so small and inconsequential and yet it made his heart flutter all the same.

“This is nice,” he lifts up your hands briefly.

“I would hope so,” you tease, “I like it, though, is cute, no?”

“It is. Definitely is. I think so.”

“I do, too. We should do it more often.”