#caught me so off guard I started breathing heavy heart racing type of shit

[unhingedlesbear]

TCOFS deaths genuinely so fucked up 😭

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

You can read part 1 here 

You can read part 2 here

Part 3; Finale

Spinning your keys around your finger, you go to slip them into the backdoor's lock, finding that turning it was difficult. 

Far too difficult.

"Did someone break in?" You mutter, pulling the key out and beginning the walk around to the other entrance. "Well, if they did I doubt they'd stay long, not with William there."

Entering through the front, you look around the dark establishment, trying to spot if anything had been stolen or otherwise interacted with violently. With a sigh of relief at the sight of everything being normal, you fully step in, making your way through the building and wondering with a disgusted expression how William was able to walk through this place barefoot.

Turning the corner that allowed you to look into the window of your office, you see your golden-green companion looking at the door with his head tilted, an unrecognizable expression on his face.

"Yeah, the lock's broken for whatever reason." You say, his gaze shifting before his face does.

"Mhm." He walks towards you, stopping a few meters away. "Say, have you thought about me very much?"

Caught off guard by the question, you tilt your head. "Huh?"

"My existence. How I came to be trapped in a suit." He elaborates.

"Not really, to be honest… why?"

He looks into the office window, eyeing that tablet. "The suit, being an original model, incorporated these little devices known as springlocks."

Your brows furrow. You only knew of Springbonnie and Fredbear from random things online, so the inner workings of them was completely unknown to you. 

"The reason why they're called suits; the springlocks pushed back all the little bits of animatronic things that filled them, thus allowing them to be worn by employees. I, as you can tell, was one of them." His gaze shifts back to you. "However, I wasn't when I was subjected to my slow death."

He takes one small step towards you. "It was in a room known as the saferoom- ironic, isn't it- which was invisible to both cameras and the animatronics that walked around."

His lips twitch up. "I hid in there, waiting for them to come near me. When they did, I broke them. They all came, and all of their shells were destroyed."

Shells? Destroying the animatronics?

You watch as he takes another step forward, this one larger. 

"But, the ones inside those shells weren't so easily deterred."

Ones inside…? 

"They chased me. Forced me into hiding in the suit. They wanted revenge; wanted me dead."

He takes a few larger steps, now within arms length. You, however, grow uneasy, stepping back. His eyes stay locked with yours, a soft grin on his lips. 

You truly do look like his prey.

"I don't blame them. After all, who wouldn't want their murderer dead?" 

Your eyes widen as your suspicions are proven correct. When he takes a step forward, you do the same in reverse. If you look away for one moment, he'll catch you. You've seen his speed.

His eyes glow in the dim light, lips curling into a nightmarishly wide grin.

"Oh, it seems you've figured out my big secret. Does it change your view of me? Would you still wake up on top of me so calmly?" He laughs. "Would you still let me rest my head on your hand? Would you still so easily approach me?"

You were wrong last night. Dead wrong.

He's terrifyingly monstrous, even as a human.

"Well, I suppose my last question has already been answered." With a small chuckle, he jolts forward, you ducking to the side right before he could reach you and dashing off. He glances your way during his brief pause, expression horrifyingly giddy.

 His steps are loud behind you, and you only manage to reach cam 6 before arms cage you in against the wall, you turning to face the grinning man as you push yourself up against the wall as if trying to force yourself through it.

He lifts his hand, placing it on your chin and using his thumb to brush over your cheek. "You're too adorable. You really are like… my prey."

God, the fear in your eyes…

His grin widens a bit more, and his hand slips to the front of your chin. You clench your eyes shut, hearing a gruff laugh before his chapped lips connect with your own. You tense, feeling his other hand grip your wrist, applying more and more pressure until you let out a pained noise, him taking the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your eyes stay shut until he finally separates, where you reluctantly open them once more, finding a very satisfied-looking William and a small string of saliva temporarily connecting your tongues. "Don't worry. It's not the end of us after just that." He assures.

The hand previously on your chin shifts to your hip, where his fingers press somewhat harshly against the cloth, holding you in place further. Leaning in once more, he grins at the tiny whimper that escapes you. Redirecting himself, he instead aims for a much more sensitive area.

You let out a gasp as you feel his lips against your neck, quietly hissing as he harshly bites down, his sharp canines drawing blood. After he has his fill of that, he follows it up by sucking on the spots he had just bit, you feeling your heartrate pick up even more. 

The sound of your heavy, stuttering breaths in his ear certainly doesn’t discourage the man.

Still, he leans back, enjoying the sight of your reddened face as you reach up, covering your neck with your free hand. This, of course, wouldn’t be the end, but he needs to save the rest for later. 

He steps back.

His grip on your wrist, while looser than before, is still firm as he begins to walk you back to the hall in front of the office. "Now, I have a little game for us to play. We've done it before, so I won't explain the rules. If you make it to 6, I'll let you leave. But if you don't…" He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at your panicked face, which he responds to with a smile. "Well, I'm sure you can guess."

Standing in front of the entrance to the office, he waits for you to hesitantly enter. 

"As usual, I'll start in the back. Don't even try to escape, it's not gonna work. I broke the lock and that door isn't going to be breaking from anything but power tools."

You give a small nod, eyes shifting to the chair.

"Well, good luck. You'll most definitely need it." 

You don't react to his voice, walking towards the chair as he begins his walk back. 

You turn on your phone, checking the time and finding that fifteen minutes have already passed. 

You can't call for help, if anyone came in they'd be killed by him. If he lived through an endoskeleton being shoved into him, he'll live through pretty much anything.

Still, you text your brother quickly.

You put your phone down, not caring about the wave of notifications that came from him spamming trying to get you to respond.

Pulling the camera pad out, you switch to where he normally starts right as he walks in. He sends a chilling smile up at the camera, eyes eerily glowing within the shadows. 

"Let's begin!" He calls. 

Immediately, your eyes widen as he reaches up, ripping the camera right off of the wall.

You feel your breathing pick up again as your heart pounds out of your chest. 

You aren't going to make it. 

When he dashes into the next room, you lead him back. He snarls. Briefly, before cam 10 gets ripped off of the wall, you see him glance at the vent.

Thankfully, he ignores it, running into the next room before you hit him with the sound again, rebooting audio and cameras tight as they go out. 

"Fuck that guy for making this shit so 'authentic' it breaks down every two seconds!" You mumble to yourself. 

William tears cam 8 down, running out once more. When you manage to catch him, he's in cam 4, and you lead him back with more audio. 

"You won't keep this up, you know! You'll run out of cameras!" He laughs, the sound echoing in the building.

You frown as cam 5 goes out. You lead him back further, hearing the thumping of the vents and quickly switching your cameras to them, sealing off a vent thankfully just in time. His grin drops.

You check the time. 

It's 2. 

5 of 10 cameras have already been torn down, and you are unable to play audio from them.

He gets out of the vent surprisingly quickly, continuing his race to you. 

When he reaches another vent, you block it off before he reaches the end. He rips off a camera that you haven't even used yet upon getting out. As soon as he sees cam 3, he rips it off as well.

You see the first sparks.

You lead him back again, he charges again. 

The cameras start it.

You lead him back again, he charges again.

Soon enough the back half of the building is in flames, swallowing everything and coming for you faster than William could.

You have nowhere to lead him to but right outside your door, and he disappears. 

Completely. 

Not in any cameras, not in any vents, and not in your vision.

The smoke began to pile into your room, so you rip off a sleeve of an old jacket that was left and tie it around your nose and mouth, getting out of your chair to stay lower to the ground.

Frantically, you switch through everything again, continuing to look for him, but turning your head to the sound of a grate both thrown aside. 

He went through the break room.

There, you meet eyes with William, who seems to be doing just fine in the intense heat that fills the attraction.

You quietly gasp, grabbing your throat as smoke fills it even with the makeshift cover. You wince, ripping the cloth off, finding William about three meters from your office. Frantically, you reach towards the vent close button, but when you press it, you hear the sound of failing machinery.

It was broken. 

He broke it the first night, and now you would die because of it.

Blindly grasping for your phone, you send another message to your brother.

'Get fire help' is all you could type out before William pins you to the ground, you barely managing to send it. 

Grabbing your phone out of your hand, William carelessly throws it into the wall, you wincing at the crunching noise. 

"You know, back when I was alive, I did much research on souls. Every soul contains this little thing known as 'Remnant.' Now, Remnant is the only reason I'm alive. There's no way to destroy it, except for fire."

Your eyes widen. 

"This building won't get hot enough to completely destroy our Remnant, so don't worry about that. Still, think of it like a metal. When it gets hot enough, it melts. It can meld into other people's Remnant."

You clench your teeth.

"Of course, there's no way I am going to destroy you. So, instead, I think I'll go with another option." He smirks. 

You can feel your vision get hazy.

"Within this fire I will preserve your warmth, and we will be welded together."

Your lids droop as you feel your breaths become raspy. 

You're going to die to the smoke, not to the fire that roared outside of your office, slowly inching its way in. 

You let out a few more wheezes, feeling lips against your own before your vision goes black.

-

He gets the news less than an hour after he calls the fire department.

His brother, the only immediate family he had left, had died in the fire. 

It doesn't take much thinking to figure out who did it. 

William. 

That man, that murderer, is going to pay.

However long it takes.

-----

i did not plan this out right this part is a lot shorter than it should be but ehh whatever

whoop whoop it is done… I mean I have a sequel planned but either way, this part of the story is done

See ya later :)

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,577 (Another long update!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: This one is long and I really think ya'll are gonna like it! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Daryl and Y/N run an errand outside the walls to help Alexandria prepare for the fight against the Saviors.

Your name: submit What is this?

The first errand Rick had asked of you and Daryl since you’d come back to Alexandria was to check out a place he had a hunch had been owned by a survivalist type. Rick had stumbled on it while out hunting with Michonne, but a small herd of walkers had started to come through and the two of them hadn’t been able to explore.

You’d both agreed that you would go and search the place.

“If it is what I think it is, there’s a bunker out there somewhere. And there should be a cache of weapons and ammo that we need, along with medical supplies, food, all kinds of gear,” Rick drawled.

You glanced over at Daryl and he was nodding. “Ya. We had a neighbor like. Crazy hermit, but that bastard had a stockpile of automatic weapons the military would envy. Even had landmines, grenades, IEDs, all kinds of shit. Merle and I stumbled on it when we were lookin’ for moonshine. Booked outta there scared shitless he was gonna find out what we’d seen and hunt us down.”

Rick nodded. “I hope this is a stockpile half as well supplied as that. Even that much would go a long way against the Saviors.”

“What about that herd on the highway? The one we talked about using?” you asked.

“All taken care of. Tara is on it,” Rick said. “Just don’t be seen. Don’t take any risks. No weapons cache is worth them getting their hands on either of you again.” He gave you both a long, stern look and you nodded.

“Alright,” Daryl said, lightly touching your back. “We’re on it. We’ll be back before dark. If we ain’t, somethin’ went sideways.”

Rick grabbed his shoulder. “Make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The archer nudged his nose up in a final nod and the two of your climbed onto his bike and set out.

The ride was uneventful but slow. You had to cut through pastures, fields, woods, trying your hardest to avoid the roads, and the whole way you kept your eyes peeled for any sign of anyone or anything that didn’t look quite right. You knew the Saviors used a lot of lookouts and your stomach churned the whole way, even after stopping and scanning with your binoculars cautiously.

Daryl suddenly slowed the bike and flipped out the kickstand.

His palm grazed over your hand briefly before it slipped from him and you climbed off, already on high alert.

“I think from here we should go on foot. Looks like that sign Rick mentioned up ahead.” He unstrapped his crossbow from the back of his bike as you shouldered your pack and rested one hand on the handle of the gun at your hip.

“Yeah, I think your right,” you agreed. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on your and you stopped your searching over the surroundings to meet them. “Hmm?”

He shook his head a little. “Nothin’. Just… I always feel split between bein’ glad you’re with me out here because I know how ya can fight and wishin’ ya were back safe behind the walls.”

You laughed a little sardonically. “Yeah… I feel the same way about you,” you replied, unsnapping the leather loop on the sheath of your knife in case you needed to draw it quickly.

“Alright. C’mon. Let’s see if we can find this asshole’s stash,” Daryl said, starting to lead the way through the underbrush.

You walked in silence together for a while. Shadowing him was easy as you had spent so much time outside the walls (and inside) that you could almost anticipate his every footfall ahead of you. Daryl’s eyes were narrowed and focused on the ground. You knew he was looking for any irregularity in the soil, any out of place branches or vegetation. He was intensely focused and despite your nerves you loved watching him work. Your eyes swept from side to side and back over your shoulder as you ghosted behind him.

Finally, he stopped dead in front of you abruptly. You peered around him and you thought you knew what he was seeing. There was a slight unevenness in a patch of soil ahead. It looked odd.

Daryl moved steadily toward it, stepping even more deliberately and carefully. You had discussed that a true prepper-survivalist type may have felt inclined to install some booby-traps to guard their bunker and supply caches. You stepped right where he had, stretching forward with your front foot to match his long strides.

Daryl knelt down and glanced back at you over his shoulder. You gave him a nod to tell him you were fine and rested your hand on your gun again in its holster. He dug his fingers into the earth and you watched as he froze again. The next moment he swept a patch of the soil and forest litter aside and you saw gray metal beneath it.

It was definitely something.

It was a long while before you finally opened the lid. You had checked as best you could for any kind of booby-trap or trigger mechanism on the hatch, but you knew that you couldn’t anticipate everything. Sweat was pouring off both of you by the time Daryl had snipped off the last heavy-duty lock and grabbed the handle.

He glanced back at you and you drew your gun, nodding and let out one last exhale. Just in case.

Daryl heaved the heavy lid open and hurriedly stepped away. There was no sound coming from the underground space. He cautiously nudged forward and you did the same. “Holy shit,” he uttered. He glanced up at you and you watched as a smile grew on his face. “Fuckin’ jackpot,” he said.

You moved up so you could look down into the space. The walls were lined with shelves and cabinets and they were stocked with weapons and ammo and supplies. One whole wall looked like it was just different kinds of grenades and bombs. “Well, this will help,” you said softly, your eyes round as you looked at the cache.

“Hell yah,” Daryl said, still staring down into the space with some disbelief. He climbed partially down the ladder and grabbed a semi-automatic rifle for himself and handed you one too, along with a box of ammo. He moved further in and you followed down the narrow staircase. One cabinet was entirely stuffed with medical and surgical supplies. You slipped your pack off and tucked in some basic supplies. Daryl lifted a large bottle from the shelf in front of him. “Goddamn.” He looked at you. “Narcotic painkillers and antibiotics. This guy was definitely prepared for some shit to go down.”

You caught a bottle of antibiotics Daryl tossed to you and stuffed it into your pack too before shouldering it again. “Yeah. Didn’t save him though. He’s just a skeleton in fatigues at this point,” you said, referencing what Rick had told you he found that led him to believe there may be hidden supplies.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed. “Alright,” he said, tucking some more ammo into his bag. “Let’s button this place back up and go bring some good news home,” he said, glancing over at you with one corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. That look got you every time and you smiled back warmly at him.

You both climbed back out into the open air and Daryl locked the hatch with heavy duty locks that would at least defeat bolt cutters. You helped him cover the hatch over with soil and litter again, and you both erased your tracks as best you could as you started the walk back toward his bike.

You were about halfway back to the motorcycle’s hiding place when you suddenly froze. The hair on the back of your neck was standing on end. Daryl froze beside you, his eyes narrowed and whirring over the foliage around you both. “Daryl,” you said quietly. “I feel like someone is watching us.” Your heart was racing.

“Mhm. I feel it too,” he drawled quietly. “C’mon. Quick and quiet.”

You started to move through the brush again but you had hardly gone five steps when Daryl stopped dead. He had heard something. The next thing he knew a bullet whizzed past his ear. “Down!” he threw himself over you, pushing you to the ground as more bullets struck the soil and brush nearby. You gasped in panicked breaths. “Shit!” he growled. “C’mon. Let’s go!”

Daryl grabbed your hand and the two of you ran, hunched over as you heard more bullets, obviously fired from automatic weapons, flying through the air close to you. Daryl pushed you gently ahead of him. Glancing back over his shoulder, he could barely make out four figures rushing toward the two of you. “Go! Run!” The archer spun around and fired off some rounds back at the men, hitting one who went to the ground.

You readied your own gun and raced through the brush as fast as you could. You were almost back to the bike. You hazarded a glance over your shoulder and could see Daryl checking behind him every few seconds. There was a pile of downed wood and debris ahead and Daryl grabbed your hand and pulled you over behind it, sinking down on his knees beside you and hastily putting a new magazine in his gun. “Didn’t think we’d be usin’ these guns so damn soon,” he whispered harshly.

You nodded in agreement. “It has to be them, right?” you asked, meaning the Saviors. Daryl nodded.

“There were four of ‘em. I hit one and he went down.” He frantically peeked back around the wood you were hiding behind. They were getting closer. They definitely had some kind of vehicle, maybe an ATV, because he heard an engine turn on. He glanced back at you desperately. The two of you obviously couldn’t outrun that on foot, and even on his bike, with you behind him, you’d be a perfect target. He gulped. “Alright. Stay here. I’m gonna lead ‘em away from ya,” he said, readying his gun again.

“What?! Daryl! No! We do this together!” you argued.

“Nah. With you on the back of my bike you’d be right in the line of fire. That ain’t happenin’,” he said. “I’ll draw ‘em off, circle around and come back for ya. Just stay hidden!”

“I can shoot back! Hell, you know I’m a crack shot. Stop! No!” you said frantically, grabbing his arm. “I’m not letting you do this!” Your eyes were wide and fearful.

His blue eyes flitted over your face. “Wasn’t a question.” He peeked out again and he could hear the engine of the ATV coming closer.

“Daryl. Daryl—” you hurriedly tried to reason with him one more time. “Don’t!”

But all the archer did was give you one last look before he clasped your face in both hands and kissed you. He slid his hands down your arms and gave you a final look. “I’ll come back for ya. S’gonna be okay.” Your eyes flitted between his, your brow drawn down low.

“Daryl—don’t—!”

You tried to grab hold of him to stop him, but just at that moment you heard a stick snap to your right and you spun around reflexively to look. When you glanced back, the archer was already disappearing in the opposite direction through the brush. He was surprisingly fast, even crouching and moving as silently as he was. “Fuck!” you swore to yourself. You left the shelter of your makeshift cover and as soon as you had stepped one foot out you were met with a hail of bullets that pinned you back in, one of them almost grazing your calf. “Son of a—” You raised your rifle to your shoulder and tried to heave in a few steadying breaths. You shifted some of the large branches that were leaning up against an old oak tree, the central support for most of the downed wood. When you had nudged them just enough you could see out. There. You saw him. One asshole with an automatic weapon. You raised the rifle and when your cheek was settled against the stock, you let out a slow exhale, lined up the man’s chest with your gun sight and pulled the trigger. He dropped immediately, a crimson stain spreading out on his chest. You sank back against the rough bark of the oak and let out a relieved breath.

You peeked around the barrier of rotting wood and downed trees and strained your hearing. You heard an engine suddenly revving in the distance followed by some shouting and more shooting. “Fuck! No, no, no!” You left your hiding place and started to race almost blindly through the woods toward the sound. But now you heard a second sound, and it was Daryl’s bike. You ran toward it and broke into a slightly more open understory. You could tell that the sounds were moving away from you and when you skirted around another patch of brush, you could barely make out two men on an ATV speeding after Daryl on his bike, one driving and one shooting. He was leading them back toward an old logging road. You tore off after them, pausing to fire off a couple of shots at the backs of the men before they disappeared in the vast woods. Your lungs were on fire and there was a stitch in your side, but you kept running. Soon enough though, all sounds had faded and you were left terrified in the eerie stillness that followed. There was nothing to do now except conceal yourself somewhere safe and wait and worry. You felt horribly helpless.

Your stomach churned as you tucked yourself into a thicket of blackberry briars and dogwood, clutching your rifle so hard your knuckles were snowy white. It was agonizing waiting and you were almost in tears as the worst-case scenarios ran through your head. You knew Daryl could outrun and out-maneuver an ATV on his bike, but if the man on the back shooting managed to hit him… You felt like you could be sick. If you’d been religious, it would have been the hardest you ever prayed about anything in your entire life. Instead, you sat in anxious agony.

Finally, after what felt like hours and hours, you heard the faint drone of an engine and you got up onto your knees, keeping the rifle stock tucked tightly into your shoulder. You strained your eyesight and hearing as you peered through the brush. As it came closer, you recognized the sound.

Not an ATV. It was Daryl’s bike. But still you waited. “Please be okay. Please be okay,” you whispered to yourself in a mantra. The sound came closer and closer until you could hear the snap of every stick beneath the heavy wheels. At last, a figure on the motorcycle came into view. It was Daryl. He was scrutinizing the ground, obviously looking for a trail to pick up that would lead back to you.

You let out a huge gasp of relief and jumped to your feet, leaving your place of concealment and rushing into view. Daryl stopped the bike and climbed off. You barreled into him and pressed your face into his shoulder, your arms around his neck. “I am so pissed at you right now but so relieved you’re okay!” You squeezed him more tightly and that’s when he couldn’t stifle a small noise of pain anymore, more of an exhale than anything. You drew back immediately and really looked at him, your brow furrowed. The leather gear he always wore to ride was torn and shredded on his right arm from shoulder to hem and across the right side of his back. He’d obviously had a reasonably significant fall and slide.

“Oh my God. Are you okay? How bad—” you asked desperately, now noticing that you could see some dark splotches staining the black leather jacket.

“M’fine,” he said, brushing it off. “I took out that one in the beginning and those two on the ATV but there was a fourth one.”

“I got him,” you said, searching his face which also had an abrasion on the right side near his hairline. You lightly turned his chin so you could look at it.

“S’okay. It’s nothing,” he said, gently taking your hands in his. “We gotta go. Let’s get outta here in case there are any more around…” he drawled, turning back toward his bike. “Lucky my bike ain’t fucked up,” he growled. But you caught his hand gently and he turned back. You arched up onto your toes and Daryl registered the fear in your eyes before you pressed a kiss to his lips, your eyes shut tight as you let the anxiety that had plagued you in his absence finally diminish. Daryl drew you into him and kissed you back.

“Okay,” you sighed when you broke apart, the worry line near your left eyebrow still quite pronounced as you met his blue eyes again. “Let’s go.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you made it back to Alexandria, Rick was the one at the gate. He rushed to climb down from the lookout post and hauled the gates open to you. Daryl paused and turned off the bike as Rick seemed to take in both of you and your condition.

He saw the blood staining through Daryl’s jacket and a shadow grew on his face. “What happened?”

“Take a wild guess,” Daryl drawled.

Rick let out a sigh that was part growl. “How many?”

“Four,” you said, your arms still wrapped gently around Daryl’s waist as you sat behind him on the bike. “We got all of them.”

Rick closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. “You alright? You need a doctor?” Rick asked Daryl, nodding toward the dark splotch of blood on his right arm.

“Nah. Just caught a good slide. Bit of road rash. I think I’m okay,” he drawled.

“We’ll see,” you said pointedly.

“New guns,” Rick said, his expression turning hopeful.

“Mm,” Daryl hummed. “Ya were right about that place. We found a cache. Enough explosives to blast every one of those sons’a bitches to Hell and back three times. More guns. Ammo. Medical supplies. It’ll be a huge help.”

Rick actually cracked a smile and nodded. “It’s a good start. A great start. I’m sorry you two ran into trouble. You sure you’re alright?”

You nodded. “It was a little dicey… but we’re here,” you sighed.

Rick nodded, his expression serious once again. “Alright. Go on and get cleaned up. You two have done more than enough. Thank you.”

Daryl started the bike and drove down the street, parking it in Aaron and Eric’s garage as usual. Then, the two of you started back to your house. You kept glancing over at him the whole way and finally Daryl met your eyes. “What?” he prompted.

“I’m trying to decide how mad I am at you for that shit you pulled out there,” you said.

“Now ya know how I felt when I found out ya had put yourself back in there with him,” he countered, and you realized he had a point. You pressed your lips together thoughtfully and nodded before gently lacing your hand with his, your fingers fitting between his perfectly and feeling like that’s where they were meant to be. Daryl gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

You were both exhausted and Daryl was more than a little sore. He really wasn’t looking forward to peeling his gear off and seeing the damage. You dumped your pack in the kitchen and busied yourself with pulling out the supplies and sorting them, some to go to the clinic and some to keep. Daryl carefully started trying to pull off his leather jacket, wincing at every muscle twinge. You looked up and saw him struggling and were reminded of how he had helped you with your jacket and flannel under similar circumstances, and then stayed to stitch up your arm, so long ago when you were practically strangers. You made your way over to him, your hands surprising him a little as they landed gently on his sides. He froze and glanced down at you, his jacket not even halfway off.

“Can I help?” you asked him softly. He nudged his nose up at you in a grateful nod and ceased his struggling. You gently pulled off his outer layer, letting it fall to floor in a soft pile. Your eyes took in the large bloodstains on his shirt, the cotton fabric wicking the crimson up easily. Daryl watched your brow furrow with concern again and he sank down heavily on a nearby stool. It suddenly settled over him just how bad things could have gone with those Saviors and he allowed himself to realize how terrified he’d been. It weighed on him and you easily saw the change.

You moved close to him again and Daryl’s arms immediately circled around you, pulling you into him until you were standing between his legs, as close as he could get you. He hugged you to him and breathed in your smell, his head resting against you just at the bottom of your breastbone, his touch needy and desperate. Your fingers immediately stroked through his hair and the archer listened to the steady rhythm of your heart beating in your chest. “We’re alright,” you said gently. “We made it.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed vaguely.

You both stayed frozen like that for a long while, each needing the other’s touch, until finally Daryl straightened up with a sigh. He glanced at the crimson splotches on the right sleeve of his shirt and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip. “Should probably just go up and shower,” he murmured. You nodded, withdrawing from him slightly. Your eyes immediately caught sight of the red stain across half his back again. Your stomach twisted.

“Y/N,” he said, interrupting your train of thought and drawing your eyes to his again. “Would ya, um—would ya—” he stalled out, his heart racing with nerves.

But there was sudden realization and surprise in your eyes and then your expression softened, and Daryl thought he saw a soft flush in your cheeks. “You want me to come with? Help you get cleaned up?” you asked softly.

He nodded, this time his eyes meeting yours and staying there. “I need ya,” he drawled.

You nodded at him and Daryl watched as your lips curved gently. “You’re okay with that?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod again, still holding your eyes. “Then, of course,” you murmured. “Come on.” Daryl stood and laced his fingers with yours. You trailed behind him upstairs and into the master bathroom. He sank back against the counter, not releasing your hand and pulled you into him again, studying the slope of your nose and all the flecks of color in your eyes.

You stroked a finger along his strong jaw and looked up at him. He released your other hand and wrapped his arms around you. You easily saw that he was nervous, the prospect of you seeing his old wounds looming so immediately in front of him, not to mention the normal nerves that come with another level of intimacy, and you wanted to put him at ease. “Hey—I don’t care about your scars, remember? I care about you. Every bit of you. Okay?”

Daryl leaned in and kissed you. It was sweet and gentle and a little pleading, and when he pulled back you found yourself wanting more, but you needed to patch him up. Your fingers went to the buttons on his shirt and you paused at the first one. “You’re sure?” you asked him, one more time, and the archer nodded, and clasped your face in one hand, his fingers tangling into your hair.

“M’sure,” he said quietly.

You nodded and unbuttoned his bloodstained shirt, your fingers occasionally brushing his bare skin underneath and sending goosebumps rising on his skin. Daryl’s heart fluttered at the sensation.

You pushed one side of his shirt back and it fell away from his left side as Daryl slipped his arm out. Your eyes hitched on the uncountable scars across his strong chest and stomach and your heart ached even while anger burned in your stomach that someone, anyone, could do such horrific things to a child, let alone their own son. Let alone Daryl.

Daryl gulped as he saw you taking in the sight of his bare chest, your eyes seeming to catch on the ugly scars crisscrossing his skin. But you quickly refocused and did your best to gently pull away the remaining fabric of his shirt from the swaths of road rash across his back, shoulder, and down his right arm. The cotton was sticking to the wounds and you apologized as it tugged a little as it came off. He was finally free of the fabric and you examined his injuries, your fingers so light they could have been the kiss of a breeze on his skin. The abrasions were large and you could tell he would be bruised and swollen from the fall. His muscles were already sore and tight from it.

When you finally straightened up and met his anxious blue eyes again, you gave him a small, reassuring smile, clasping his face and planting a gentle kiss on his lips, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. His arms draped around your lower back again, capturing you.

He gulped at the tightness in his throat. “Told ya they were worse than most,” he drawled quietly, ducking his head, self-conscious.

But you pressed your hand flat over his chest and felt the beating of his heart. Your thumb ran the length of one of the scars on his chest, your expression sad and thoughtful, and you leaned in and planted a kiss on it. Daryl looked up at you like he had never in his life expected anyone to even think of doing such a thing, and the surprise in his eyes left you aching. Your fingers found another scar and you repeated the action, leaving a kiss there before meeting his blue eyes again. They were a little bewildered. You felt the fingers of one of his hands tap a little anxiously on your lower back where they rested and he was still chewing on his bottom lip. You moved beside him kissed the end of one of the long scars that cut across his back, before resting your chin gently against his shoulder and carefully draping your arms around him.

“I see you, Daryl. I just see you.”

He was almost overwhelmed at your tenderness and just as he was struggling to come up with something worthy enough to follow all that, you broke from him and turned the shower on, testing the temperature of the water on your wrist until you were satisfied. Daryl watched you in disbelief as you came back to him with a small smile.

You leaned into him where he was still leaning against the counter and he watched as your fingertips floated to the hem of your shirt and you swept it off over your head and discarded it on the floor. You were sure your cheeks were a little extra pink, but at the same time you were amazed at how safe and comfortable and natural this all felt. Daryl pulled you more tightly into him, drinking in the sight of you, needing to feel your skin against his, his hands wandering over you with no fabric to keep his fingers from you. He pressed you against him and left a kiss in your hair. Soon the two of you were both all just skin, jeans and boots and underthings discarded on the floor. Daryl felt like he was in a daze as you gently pulled him toward the shower and under the warm torrent of water with you.

He held you against him and you both enjoyed the warmth cascading over your bare skin. Daryl shut his eyes and leaned his head back under the hot stream of water and you watched as some of the weight that had been on his shoulders since the scramble outside the walls suddenly lifted.

You grabbed a soft washcloth and gently passed it over his wounds, watching the dirt and dried blood wash away, tending to his arm and his back. You could see a tinge of deep purple bruising already forming where his body had collided most heavily with the ground. You looped your arms around him from behind, fingers splayed out on his strong stomach, watching the rivulets of water flow over his scars, and Daryl’s hand landed over yours. He turned and pulled you into him, needing to see you, his fingers gliding over your smooth skin, following the edge of your shoulder blade and down the curve of your spine, his eyes closed, learning you by feel. You looked up at this strong man, a true protector and warrior, yet who was capable of being so soft and your heart swelled. Daryl’s eyes opened and he looked down at you, the heat of the water bringing a rosy hue to your cheeks.

You lingered in the heat of the shower, smoothing the soap over each other’s skin, drinking in the closeness and intimacy. You washed Daryl’s hair and he thought he could fall asleep standing up with how relaxing it was. He returned the favor and you laughed as he almost got shampoo in your eyes. He smiled at you apologetically. “Sorry,” he drawled. “Almost blinded ya.”

You grinned at him. “It’s alright. You just need more practice.”

One corner of Daryl’s mouth quirked up and stayed there. He nodded. “I’m in.”

“Alright,” you said softly. “I think we’ve used enough hot water for now.” You leaned into Daryl, reaching behind him to shut off the tap. He watched the droplets rolling down from your collarbone and he felt a familiar bloom of warmth in his chest.

He pressed his hands gently into your lower back and met your eyes. “Thanks,” he said. “Just what I needed.”

You nodded and gave him a small smile. “Me too.”

Daryl reached out and grabbed the towels you had set out, wrapping you in one first before using his own. You stepped out into the bathroom and he watched as you wrung out the water from your hair. He still felt like he was in a dream, bewildered that with each step of intimacy between the two of you that he felt more and more safe, more and more sure of his feelings. There was a dark part of him that still doubted this, still expected you to run at some point, but it was shrinking. You were constant and continually showing him how important he was to you.

The archer moved against you as you stood in front of the mirror, combing out your hair, and his hands landed on your hips, sinking into the terrycloth material of your towel. He placed a kiss on the side of your neck, gentle and sweet, and your heart skipped a beat as you met his eyes in the mirror and smiled.

“We’ll just patch you up a bit,” you said. “Antibacterial ointment. Then… I’m tired,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he agreed. “Want nothin’ more right now than to be in bed with ya.”

You nodded. “Then let’s finish taking care of you and make it happen,” you smiled. You both pulled on some clean, comfortable clothes and Daryl sat on the edge of the bed as you finished tending to his wounds. Finally, when you were satisfied, you collapsed into bed beside each other. Daryl draped his arm over your waist and his fingers drew absent circles on your back. You smiled at the sensation, your eyes shut, and focusing on the feeling of his chest steadily expanding with each breath. You slipped your hand underneath his shirt so you could rest it against the bare skin of his side.

“Thank you,” Daryl drawled quietly.

Your eyes fluttered open, questioning. “Hmm?”

He shrugged a little. “Just thank you. You’re the most important thing to me,” he said, his tone warm and soft.

You studied the look in his blue eyes and nodded. “You’re the most important thing to me too. Thanks for being right here,” you said, moving in closer to tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

“Never want to be anywhere else,” he said. And soon the two of you drifted off to sleep.

[sharkbait77]

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy ���� good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Times Two

Your husband is cloned by a quirk and you just so happen to love that. So what do you do? The only thing that makes sense, of course. 

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sex (anal and vaginal), DP, foreplay, blowjob, throat fucking, vulgar phrases and words Words:   4681 Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki (x2) x Fem! Reader

a/n: I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing to tell the difference between clone and real Bakugou. I have it set up like Bakugou = Real. Katsuki = Clone. The reader specifies it as well to try and clear some stuff up. But yeah, this is the naughtiest thing I’ve written in a while and I took some risks, hopefully it works out and y’all enjoy it! Don’t forget to read past the “Read More”! 

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Edit: I forgot to add the anon that requested and inspired this lovely idea, I’m sorry! Thank you so much for sending this in! (⋟﹏⋞)

Being married to the explosive Bakugou Katsuki, there is very little that surprises you. That man, as hot headed and rough around the edges as he could be, was always surprising you in one way or another in the forms of sentimental gestures and words that no other person alive was ever meant to hear. Along with being married to him, you were more involved in the life of pro heros than you ever really expected to be, as in his late twenties, he was very quickly becoming a prominent name and popular icon. A new quirk or odd behavior was always expressed to you by him when he arrived home, as he always had something new to rant about. But this… this was not something that you were familiar with. The fact that you were staring at two sets of glaring crimson eyes made you almost feel faint, tempted to shut the door and reopen it just to make sure you weren't hallucinating. 

“Katsuki…” You stared up at the one you assumed to be the original, as he was dressed in the clothes he had left in that morning, while the other was in some outfit you had never seen before. “Why… What- I mean… There are two of you.” You gestured from one to the other and back again with an accusatory pointed finger, gaining an annoyed and almost simultaneous click of the tongue from both blondes before you. 

“No shit.” The original barked in an annoyed huff, placing a rough hand on your arm to urge you out of the way so they could enter. You followed direction, watching them shuffle in through the door before shutting and locking it into place. 

“How are there two of you? Why are there two of you? Which is the real one?” 

“I am!” With a point to his own face, Bakugou glowered down at you, the familiar snarl and wedding ring on his finger calming your initial fears. The other Bakugou, who stood awkwardly off to the side, wasn’t wearing a ring and he also gave off a different… energy to the original. It was obvious that he was confused and out of place, though he glanced around at both the environment and at you with a sense of familiarity. Before you could really even say anything else, your husband snatched you by the arm and dragged you off to a different room, making you stumble over your feet for a second before catching your footing. 

“No need to drag me around Katsuki—” 

Bakugou brought a finger to his lips, hushing you with an urgency that spiked a bit of annoyance in you. All you knew at this point was that he had better start explaining himself quickly before you got frustrated, and the look on your face must have told him that as he began to spill his guts to you. 

“Sorry. Look, while I was out at a call, a villain touched me and used their quirk on me to try and catch me off guard. It didn’t work, but it did make him. He is literally me, down to memories and feelings. We have to get rid of him!” 

A frown crossed your lips as you glanced out of the doorway, seeing the clone wander about while looking at pictures along the wall. “He’s… not having like a crisis or something? I’m surprised he’s not upset.” 

Bakugou shook his head, letting his hands fall down your arms to tenderly hold your hands. “After the villain was caught, she explained her quirk… They may be exactly like me, but they won’t ever realize they’re going to fuck off when they fall asleep. Fuck off as in… turn into a doll. And even though he has all my memories and shit he’s… very compliant.” 

“Hm… When he falls asleep he’s gonna turn into a doll? Why don’t we just let him hang around until night time, and he’ll go to sleep. I don’t want you to attack him and knock him out or anything… That’s so mean.” You squeezed his fingers as you tried to have him understand your point of view. “If he’s literally you, then he probably feels really comfortable here. What a shame for his final moments of existence to be fear or pain.” 

Bakugou glowered down at you, obviously annoyed with your empathy. “So what, you want to invite him to have dinner and watch TV with us and share our bed?” 

“It’s technically his bed, too. He’s you.” You gave a very nonchalant shrug, ignoring the frustrated furrow of your lovers brow. “I don’t want you to hurt him. We should make his only day alive something enjoyable. Let’s go talk to him.” 

“Babe—” Bakugou sighed as you walked away from him, towards the clone that instantly peered down at you curiously. He seemed genuinely happy at the smile on your face, and though you could tell he wanted to, he was reluctant to touch you. Fiddling with your nails as you came to stand in front of him, you gave a small cough to clear your throat, glancing back at the real Bakugou as he glared at you from his spot learning against the doorframe. 

“So, uhm…” You began, turning your attention to the Bakugou in front of you. “Things can get a little confusing I think, so… How about I call you Katsuki, and him Bakugou.” As you addressed them, you gestured to them, feeling your cheeks flush a bit at how ridiculous you sounded. “I’m used to calling him Katsuki, but it’ll be okay for now. I’ll try not to get you mixed up. Deal?” You glanced back again at Bakugou who merely shrugged in an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ manner, while Katsuki in front of you gave a calm nod. 

“Sure, [Name]. I, oh fuck, sorry—” Having unconsiciously placed his hand on your arm, Katsuki quickly pulled it away as you gave a small flinch in surprise. With this, you saw a flash of confusion and defeat across his face, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to do that. Well, of course he hadn’t. To him, you were his lover, his wife and you loved each other fiercely. Physical touch was important between you and Bakugou, and so you knew that it was just as important to Katsuki. Still, you felt conflicted yourself. You could feel the tension from behind you, fuming off of your husband like it was a tangible object. A clone of himself or not, you knew that he wasn’t going to just let another man touch you.

Deciding to change the subject, you motioned towards the bedroom with a small nod of your head, prompting Katsuki to follow you. “Come on. How about you both get comfortable and we can, uhm… Make dinner, I guess.” 

Bakugou pushed himself up off the doorframe, entering the room before either of you. “I get my tank and shorts, got it?!” 

Katsuki scoffed, reaching behind him to pull his shirt up and over his head. “Whatever, I don’t give a fuck, I’m not going to fight with myself over clothes.” 

“Hey, hey, chill. Please.” You placed a hand on Bakugou’s arm to calm him, though by the click of his tongue you got in response, it didn’t work. “You have plenty of clothes to share. Just pick an outfit.” At this point, you already felt like you were babysitting, taking a step back as the two grown men bickered over what comfortable clothes the other wanted. Though, their huffing and puffing wasn’t really what was on your mind. Looking at them, both shirtless now, you felt a heat spread through your cheeks and down to your toes. You had two versions of your husband in your house, both of them who knew who you were and loved you equally. One was definitely in a better mood than the other, but that only made it better. 

You couldn’t stop the thoughts and visions flashing through your mind of both men pleasuring you from all sides, one fucking you from behind while the other made you gag on his cock. They were identical, down to the scars and minute imperfections on their skin. You couldn’t resist the sinful thoughts, especially as they continued stripping and changing. The instant Katsuki’s gaze landed on you, catching you staring, you took in a breath and shuffled away, mumbling something about having to go to the restroom. Shutting the door a bit too loudly, you leaned against it, placing a hand on your chest as you tried to calm your heavy breathing and racing heart. 

You almost lost it there, [Name]. You gotta calm down, there’s no way the original is gonna fall for a threesome. But this is a once in a lifetime thing! To be fucked by double Katsuki’s… What a dream— 

There was a sudden rough knock on the door, startling you so badly that you almost screamed out loud. Heart now racing even worse, you took a few deep breaths, opening the door to peek out. You could instantly see that it was Bakugou, his wedding ring gleaming against the light as his hand came to rest on the door. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, babe?” 

Opening up the door just a bit more, you allowed him to stand halfway inside so you could whisper to each other. You kept yourself close to him, tenderly caressing his upper arm as you let out a trembling breath. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just… This is a lot to take in all the sudden in a… different way.” 

“Different way?” With a cocked eyebrow, he glanced over your body, noticing the timid stance and erect nipples behind the thin cloth of your t-shirt. Your flushed face and pounding heartbeat were dead giveaways as well, though instead of his usual smirk at realizing your current state, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you horny?!” 

“Shh!” You reached up and covered his mouth, standing on your tiptoes to look out and make sure you weren’t being listened to. “Don’t say it so loud.” 

“So you are.” Bakugou continued when you removed your hand, giving a small shrug. “Well let me in there, we’ll fuck real quick and get to— ah, wait!” Now, he shoved himself the rest of the way inside, shutting the door behind him. In the same moment, he pressed you up against it, forcing a gasp from your lips as his leg wedged firmly into place between yours. He liked to do this, pin you up against whatever solid surface he could and tease the hell out of you, until you were writhing and begging for him to fuck you. Though, this was a bit different, as his glare showed little signs of the typical lust you were familiar with seeing. 

“You little slut. You want to fuck both of us, don’t you?” With your hard swallow and guilty gaze, a smirk finally crossed his lips, gripping your chin to force you to look up at him. “I should've known you were going to be like that. You’re so obsessed with the way I fuck you, there’s no way you wouldn’t want it from two of me. What were you thinking, hm? A cock in your ass and your cunt?” His hand began to travel down your body, teasing you with just a hit of that rough touch you craved. “Like hell I’m going to share you with anyone, not even a version of myself.” 

“Why not, Katsuki?” Your eyes darted from his face down his his hips, able to see his erect member pressing against the fabric of his sweatpants. “It would be fun. And so sexy… imagine me, kneeling on the floor, face covered in your cum. Letting you take turns fucking my throat.” Clutching onto his shirt tightly with one hand, you let the other slip between your bodies, slowly and firmly palming his member through the fabric of his bottoms. “You’re already rock hard thinking about it.” 

“You think you could handle it?” Bakugou pressed his leg further up between yours to press against your sex, prompting you to eagerly grind your hips. “I leave you ruined just on my own. I don’t think you’d be able to take it. You’d be begging for mercy.” 

“You underestimate me, love. The only thing I’d be begging for is more.” You tugged him in closer, catching his lips in a heated kiss. In that same second, you were in his arms, pressed up against the door. Keeping yourself latched to him with your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, you sighed softly at the feeling of his member pressing into your sex, wishing despirately to feel him inside you. While one arm kept you firmly in position, the other hand was free to roam, his rough and calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh. His touch was like fire, telling you just how seriously turned on he was, too. Just maybe you could get him to agree… after letting him have a little fun on his own first. 

“Please,” you moaned breathlessly into the kiss, reaching down between your bodies to slip his manhood free from his clothes. “I need to feel you inside me. Right now.” As you moved your poor excuse for pajama shorts and underwear side, Bakugou complied, shifting your body just enough to slip himself inside you. You felt every inch of your body tingle in excitement and pleasure, your heart racing at the sound of his groan against your cheek. He may have teased you about being obsessed with the way he made love to you, but you knew that he was just as addicted. Even though he put on a tough show, you could easily make him do whatever you begged for, like he was wrapped around your little finger. A simple touch or glance could have him immediately wanting you, and now that you had him this far, you knew that you could weasel your way into adding another cock to the party. 

You didn’t have much time to contemplate exactly how you would pull that off, distracted as he began to thrust his hips, fucking you at a rough and hard pace that made the wooden door at your back sqeak and rattle with each movement. Every inch of him vanished within your depths with each stroke, fogging your mind to everything but the irresistible pleasure. You were so engrossed, in fact, that you didn’t hear footsteps approaching the door from the other side, only able to focus on Bakugou’s lips and teeth against your skin. 

Suddenly, you felt an emptiness at your back and a wash of cold air swallow you both as the door to the restroom was swung open rapidly. With a squeal from your lips and a sharp inhale from Bakugou, you began to tumble backwards at the loss of support. Though, just as soon as it had gone, it was back again, though the presence that you found your back against was more familiar and warm than the cold wooden door. You were now pressed against Katsuki’s chest, his hands gripping onto your upper arms tightly to support the weight of both of you. 

“Hey, what the fuck?!” Bakugou barked at his mirror image, glaring at Katsuki over the top of your head. “Get that smirk off your face asshole, who the fuck invited you?!” 

“[Name] did. You think I didn’t hear you two talking in there or could tell what she was thinking?” Katsuki’s hands slid under your arms, gripping and squeezing your breasts roughly. You couldn’t resist a soft gasp, the mutual feeling of Bakugou inside you and now Katsuki’s hands on you making your head swim. “I saw her staring at us. Just like you, I know exactly what she wanted. And you weren’t exactly subtle, fucking against the door like that. It’s like you wanted me to notice.” 

Trembling, you clutched onto Bakugou’s shoulders tightly, lightly rocking your hips to move him within you. “You two stop fighting and just fuck me already!” 

Bakugou complied without a moment's hesitation, using Katsuki’s leverage to keep you stable. Your voice squeaked out in pleasure as you laid your head back, catching Katsuki’s gaze. The lust in his crimson glare was so clear, feeling a heat rush to your face as he smirked against your cheek, one hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “That’s it, babe,” He hissed in your ear, making your heart flutter violently. His other hand left your breast and vanished elsewhere for a moment, and you could only hope that he was preparing himself for what you wanted most. “You’re such a naughty little bitch. Tell me what you want.” 

As Katsuki’s lips came to hover near yours, you could feel it, the hard presence of his cock against your ass as it bounced with Bakugou’s thrusts. The fire inside you began to swell, unable to tear your eyes away from your lovers clone and his hypnotizing crimson glare. “I-I want you both! I want your cock in my ass— ah!” Your voice squeaked as Bakugou increased his speed and roughness, pulling your attention to him.

“Beg harder, babygirl. Beg like the cock hungry slut you are!” 

You knew exactly how he wanted you to talk, how filthy he wanted you to be, and it wasn’t something you were going to resist. “P-please, fuck me in my cunt and my ass! Fill me up and use me!” 

Again, your pathetic excuse for clothing was moved aside, with Bakugou pausing just long enough to let Katsuki sink his length into your ass. You and Bakugou were no strangers to anal sex, so it wasn’t as if that was what shocked you. No, it was the feeling being completely full, not a single inch of you untouched. There was new pleasures you had never felt before, the heat inside you almost unbearable, and yet, you loved it. Pressed between these two men, who were alike in every sense of the word, cocooned you in warmth, bringing an odd sense of sleepiness to your mind. That is, until they began to move, very quickly finding a rhythm. They didn’t alternate like you expected. Instead, they matched each others pace, making you melt into puddy in their hands. 

Trapped in their arms, you couldn’t move, only able to anchor yourself to something with your hands, which clutched onto Bakugou’s shirt and shoulders. Just from the look on his face, you could tell that it felt different for him as well, though in what way you couldn’t really imagine. All you cared about was the fact that he was enjoying it, and so was Katsuki from the groans and soft curses you heard near your ear. Within no time, you could feel it, the pleasure building into a ball in your core, until it exploded in a rush of moans, trembling and uncontrollable jerks of your body. 

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it,” Katsuki purred in your ear, both men having to stop from the pressure of your contracting walls. “You’re such a good girl.” Through your panting and soft gasps, Katsuki turned your head with a push of his thumb, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth instantly, forcing you into that submission that you loved and leaving you breathless. 

“She’s gotten off too easy,” Bakugou huffed, removing himself from inside you and leaving you aching for his return. “Put her ass on the bed.” 

Complying, Katsuki released your lips and removed himself from you as well, taking on the full weight of your body to walk you over to the bed. Dropping you onto the mattress, you bounced with the impact, gazing up at both men expectantly. Smirk on his lips, Bakugou removed his shirt, coming to stand at the side of the bed. Without questioning or waiting for instruction, you scooted your body closer, instantly taking his hard and throbbing cock into your mouth as you rolled over onto your stomach. Propping yourself up on your arms, you lovingly tended to his member, running your tongue along the underside and stroking him with that firm grip you knew he loved. With a pleasured sigh, Bakugou ran his fingers through your hair, stopping at the base of your head to apply pressure to keep you from going anywhere. 

Taking a curious glance up at his face, you could instantly tell why, his gaze following Katsuki as he climbed onto the bed behind you. Eager hands gripped your ass, squeezing and spreading you open, even though you still had your shorts and underwear on. “What a filthy little slut you are, drenched through your clothes like that.” A hard smack to your ass followed his words, making you squeak and unconsciously take Bakugou’s cock deeper into your mouth. After another rough slap, your clothes were pulled down, leaving you exposed to him. The chill of the room was short lived as he slipped his cock between your legs, urging you to squeeze them together before he began thrusting his hips. The way his cock stroked against your clit sent tingles across your skin, your moans muffled by the dick in your mouth. The more pleasure you received, the more you gave, turning Bakugou into his own panting and grunting mess. 

Eventually, with a tight grip of your hair, you knew what was about to happen. Removing your hands from him, you kept your mouth and head loose for him, allowing him to thrust his hips. He was going slow at first, like he usually did, soaking in the feeling of his tip pressing into the back of your throat. You could barely register the sounds coming from behind you, merely following direction as you were told to squeeze your thighs together tighter. 

Bakugou scoffed, glaring at his clone with a smug smirk on his lips. “What’s wrong, you fucker? About to cum already?” 

You gave a muffled squeal as Katsuki increase the roughness of his thrusts, feeling yourself about to peak again just from the stroking of your clit. “Whether you’re in or not, she’s going to be covered in cum by the time I’m done with her. I’ll cum as many times as I fucking feel like.” With a shuddering of your body as you came, you were given some reprieve from the cock in your mouth to breathe, fighting between coughing and moaning as you stroked Bakugou’s length in the meantime. As you were still cumming, you felt a hot release all over your legs, listening as Katsuki grunted with his own release. It coated your thighs and cunt, surprising you a bit with how much there seemed to be. With a heavy sigh, Katsuki took a moment to recover, spreading his cum across your pussy with his thumb. “What a pretty sight.” 

Before you could even think of a response, Bakugou forced his cock back into your mouth, fucking your throat at his own pace and roughness. You couldn’t even react to the sudden feeling of Katsuki’s cock sinking into your pussy, fucking you from behind at an equally rough pace. It was exactly as you had imagined, a mixture of pleasure and pain that had your eyes rolling back, once again completely at their mercy. Every inch of your body felt more sensitive than it ever had before, even your nipples as they scraped against the fabric of your shirt enough to add to the pleasure. 

“You want my cum all over your face, babygirl? Or do you want to swallow it?” Bakugou didn’t give you any chance to even answer, coming to his own conclusion just from the pleading furrow of your brow and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You wanted to feel it on your skin, to have him dirty you up as his counterpart had. You wanted to feel the heat of his essence on you, to watch his face as he jacked off on your face. So, that is what you received, with Bakugou removing himself from your mouth at the last moments. He gave you just enough time to open your mouth wide, catching what little bit of his cum on your tongue that you could while your body rocked with Katsuki’s thrusts. 

Leaning his head back as he came, Bakugou’s smirk spread, watching your body for a moment before he gripped your chin, giving Katsuki a quick glance that told him to stop. The clone did so, slowly removing himself from within you before filling you back up again in slow and teasing thrusts. Using his thumb, Bakugou spread his cum across your cheek and to your lips, allowing you to lick and suck it off his fingers. 

“You like the taste of my cum, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” You answered breathlessly, staring up at him through blurry and teary vision. “I love it. I love your cum—” Your voice hitched as Katsuki removed himself from your pussy, sinking his cock instead into your ass as deep as it would go. Once done, he grabbed your arms and shifted your positions, laying down as he pulled your body back against his. Understanding, you kept your legs open and displayed, panting as you smiled up at Bakugou. 

“C’mon, love. I want you both to fuck me until you’ve had enough. I told you I could take it.” 

And so you did, for hours you were treated how you had wanted to be, subdued and ravaged until your limbs were sore and body was sticky with cum and sweat. Both men had plenty to give and were just as eager to pleasure you, giving you everything you had ever wanted out of the experience. When you finally had enough was in the shower, as Bakugou enjoyed using the strongest setting of the removable shower head on your clit while they both fucked you mercilessly. You were positive that you had never had such a powerful orgasm, even sure that your mind had gone black for a few seconds as you came, pressed between their bodies just like when you had started. 

Now cleaned and so worn out you couldn’t quite move your legs, Bakugou carried you to the bed once dried off, shoving the dirtied comforter off the bed to leave mostly clean sheets for you to lay on. As he sat you down, he softly moved some hair out of your face, kissing your lips sweetly. “How was that, you stupid girl? Got your fill?” 

Smiling, you shook your head, gaining a confused cock of his eyebrow. With a wave of your arm to call Katsuki over as well, you patted both sides of the bed. “I want double cuddles.” 

“At the same time?” Both men huffed in similar tones simultaneously, making you giggle. 

“Yes! C’mon, lay with me.” 

Giving each other annoyed glances, both of them crawled into bed on either side of you. While you stayed on your back, they both squeezed in close, with Bakugou’s face resting in your hair while Katsuki pressed his lips against your cheek, showering you in soft and gentle kisses. Your heart fluttered from the sweet affection of both men, feeling for the moment that you were the luckiest woman in the world. Even if it was just for the evening, having two living version of your husband there to love you was something that you would never forget. It was sad to lose one of them, which was the particularly more affectionate one at the moment, but at least you had given him an enjoyable existence. 

“I love you.” You spoke softly, already beginning to feel sleep pulling at your mind as you reached up to softly stroke both of their cheeks. 

“I love you, too.” Both spoke in unison, filling your last waking moment for the evening with a fluffy and warm sense of love that would carry you on into your dreams.  

[familiar-finn]

Lost It All || Self Para

“This is a mistake...” Finn protested, forced back as a couple of guards entered Ben’s suite. 

His master gave him the news weeks ago that he’d be returning to America to run his clan and invited the familiar to join him. Ever since he’d woken up in a cell here over three years ago, Finn dreamed of the day he’d be able to leave this godforsaken castle. But Ben’s offer didn’t provoke an easy response. 

As much as he wanted to get out of here and do his best to return to the life he once had, there were other factors he needed to consider. Charlie, for one, still under the Italian councilman’s ownership and he wanted to keep an eye on his kid. And now the return of his witch from the dead and enslaved in the castle... he’d lost Faust once before, he couldn’t leave his side again. He knew this place, knew what it was capable of, and the thought of his loved ones still stuck here left his stomach in a nauseating knot. 

So he asked Ben for a little more time in Krovs. He had some things to wrap up here and he couldn’t afford to leave just yet. Thankfully Faust had recently been claimed and moved out of the Undercroft even if it was by Gareth’s hand, no doubt in an attempt to piss Finn off. Which it did. He had faith Faust could handle a young vampire like Gareth though. Either way, it was one step closer to getting both of them out of this place. 

He needed at least a few more months before he could meet his master in his home, hopefully with his witch’s freedom from the castle. Surprisingly, Ben allowed it and drew up the paperwork for a temporary guardianship deal to a master of his choosing while Finn stayed in the castle. The demon had no interest in working for the people who had enslaved him nor did he want to move full time into the village and lose access to Faust. With agreement all around, the papers were submitted for Raiden Proulx to be Finn’s owner until he left to meet Ben again. The choice in guardian was obvious for Finn; Raiden was now the oldest councilman after Ben, strong and powerful as fuck, and didn’t seem to give a shit what Finn did so long as Raiden got his dick wet when needed. The demon grew accustomed to his master’s laissez-faire ways after two years together and the tribrid seemed the type to give the same freedoms. 

Except...

“There’s no mistake,” the guard in charge replied, “We’ll be escorting you back down to the Undercroft now that Master Redfield has left.” 

“But I haven’t been unclaimed,” the familiar argued, raising his voice in frustration, “My master submitted paperwork to transfer his ownership to Raiden. They’ve both signed––” 

“We haven’t received any word of that,” the guard said simply, “Master Proulx can take that up with our chief of staff. Until then, you can either make this easy for yourself and come with us willingly, or...” The guard on his right reached for his well stocked belt of gear and the one on his left held up the standard collar meant for unclaimed slaves. “We can do this the hard way.” 

Finn knew it wasn’t a joke. Or a lie. The guard’s heartbeat held steady at his claim and panic surged within him. This choice for him was easy, even if his common sense knew he’d probably regret it in the end. Worth a shot anyway because no way in hell was he going back down to the Undercroft. Not without a fucking fight. Maybe he should have taken Ben up on his offer when he left... 

In one quick movement, Finn thrust his fist forward, directing a gust of wind powerful enough to knock all three guards out the door and against the wall with echoing grunts. He raced full speed ahead out of the suite and down the hall while the one guard yelled into his walkie talkie for backup, among other things. Finn skidded to a halt as guards came running towards him, quickly assessing the situation while they blocked his path. Two wolves by the smell of them and with every fiber of his being refusing to be enslaved again, he kept running and knocked them out of his way like bowling pins. 

Maybe he could catch up with Ben, retain the freedom his master had given him, and find his way back to Krovs to keep an eye on Faust and Charlie another way. He’d figure it out later once he succeeded with part one of his impromptu escape plan. 

The castle entrance soon was in his sights and he picked up the pace, wanting to get as far away from this hellhole as he could while he still had somewhat of a chance at that. His heart thundered in his ears as he sprinted towards the large double doors, ready to blow right through them.

“Oof!” Finn collided hard enough with an invisible force to send him flying back on his ass as opposed to the graceful breeze he’d prepared himself for. “What the fuck––” The hot jolt he received upon contact left him stunned and by the time he gathered his bearings, the guards caught up to him and dragged him to his feet. His gaze settled on the door to see what the hell hit him and his eyes widened at the line of salt freshly drawn over the entrance. 

No. 

He squirmed and writhed in the guards grasps, three of them trying their best to restrain the thrashing and yelling demon while another removed Ben’s collar from him. By the time Finn managed to free his hand to cut through the line of salt with a blast of air, the guard sealed a generic collar around his neck and promptly severed his connection to his magic and strength. Panic surged through Finn as the harsh reality of his predicament settled in and he sucked in a breath before screaming at the top of his lungs for someone, anyone to listen to him. 

“No! You don’t understand! This isn’t–– Get the fuck off me! I don’t belong down there, please!” 

Already a crowd had gathered at the commotion in the castle lobby, everyone watching as Finn was dragged off to the Undercroft. Some faces he recognized – one in particular a staff member he enjoyed tormenting from time to time who shot him a Cheshire cat grin on his way down this stairs, though he didn’t think much of it. Surely there’d be plenty of folks around here who’d be pleased to see him down here again. His human strength wasn’t enough to get the guards to release their firm grip on him before tossing him in a cell. 

“I’m sure you know the rules at this point. Might want to behave or shit’s gonna be much worse for you,” the one guard warned. Like Finn hadn’t been in this castle long enough to know that already.

Finn didn’t want to hear it. With all the adrenaline pumping through him, he still had enough strength to flip and kick the cot in his cell against the cell bars with an echoing clang! as the door locked shut on him. He cried out in frustration and lunged forward, grasping and shaking the metal bars as he yelled after the retreating guards. “This is a fuckin’ mistake! I’ve gained my freedom! I don’t belong down here! Let me out!” 

No one paid him any mind as he ranted and raved. Eventually he quieted down as the anxiety settled heavy in his gut. He sure as fuck hoped that Raiden would look into the issue, that he’d find wherever the paperwork went and this would all be resolved. Finn knew full well that he’d made some enemies here in Krovs and that he’d flaunted Ben’s protection keeping him from harm. With that gone and his powers locked away from the collar, he had no idea what his future in Krovs with people like Gareth and Nik lurking around and more than likely to take advantage of the situation. 

Finn clutched at his heaving chest, breathing deep while he settled back against the cell wall and slid down to the floor. He had it. His freedom had been in his grasp mere moments ago. And now? Two years of work, hope, and patience gone. In only a few minutes, he’d lost it all and ended right back up at square one to start all over again. 

[btssunnyboy]

Mistakes- Jeon Jungkook

Being drunk is such a cliche excuse, but being sober only makes matters worse.

Word Count- 3,087

Warning - Cheating, implied sexual themes and mentions of alcohol.

Also this was inspired by the amazing @hobisgorgeousass and their Shattered fic! I really hope you don’t mind me tagging you!

Masterlist

——————————————————————-

It definitely wasn’t a spur of the moment type thing.

It took months, more specifically four months. It was all good at the start, almost too good to actually be true. The longing kisses and the desperate touches were something you began to crave the longer you stayed. It was all so delectable, who would want to willingly leave something so amazing like that. Through your eyes it seemed like a perfect relationship.

Oh god, where would you begin to describe why it was immaculate. For starters the luscious dates he’d always prepare. Moonlit dinners with soft candle light, or a cheesy, but very wonderful walk on the beach. He’d wrap his arms around your waist and sway to an unheard rhythm. It was peaceful and beautiful, as were all of his dates.

His perfect words. He had a way to hook you in with a single syllable that dripped past those honey like lips. They’d wrap around you like a fluffy blanket, trying to provide you with some sort of comfort. You should’ve paid more attention to often he spoke those caring words, versus what he does now. He’d usually treat his words like a poem, making sure they follow a pattern and definitely making sure they express all the feelings that run a muck in his oh so troubled mind.

His touch and his overall scene of love. At the start, it was like being on cloud nine. He showered you in affection every chance. His large hands clasping over your smaller ones. Rubbing those comforting circles over your smooth knuckles. Pressing his soft lips your tender neck and painting a beautiful masterpiece of the blank canvas. As possessive as it sounds he loved letting everyone know your heart is already taken and not up for sale.

The thing is he’s worked out a routine. A precise and well thought out routine. It has to be perfect he can’t get caught, but he can’t fall behind and accidentally mix two things that should never mix as long as he’s alive. He has to make sure you received the gentle smooches and the others received the rough part of him that is begging to be released. The tequila that lingered on his breath done more then just sting, it made his body reactions a bit more uncalled for. He had control, but at the same time he didn’t.

He knew it was a bad idea to mix stress with the overwhelming amount of alcohol. Yet he did it. Despite all the nagging in his ears, he grabbed his keys and raced to a secluded bar. Filled with only ones who could keep a secret or those who were going through the same famous troubles as him. A soft hand, kinda like yours, but the difference between the two were easily noticeable.

He should’ve stopped it right then and there. Let this stranger know his love was at home, and he couldn’t betray her. Yet he allowed one drink to quickly turn into another which then led to another. Pretty soon her face was slightly distorted and the sight resembled you in a weird way. Her lips were so inviting, so damn inviting. He couldn’t help himself.

Do you wanna take this somewhere else?

The question hung heavy in the air, but his body reacted before his mind. His tattooed fingers cling to her ink-less skin within a second. The walk to the car sobered him up a bit, but his mind was already set. There was a beautiful woman — not as beautiful as you — giving him bedroom eyes, and he needed to release. His inner roughness was clawing at his insides and the way this mystery women was talking it seemed like he hit the jackpot. Saying she could last a few rounds, and she was already half way undress in the car.

The moment the car pulled up to the doom he led her to his room as quietly as he could. The soft giggles she was letting out were distracting, and he’s do anything to get that horrendous sound to spot echoing in his head. So he grabbed her waist and held her against the wall. The steaming hot kiss between the two leaving them breathless. Her shaky breathes were edging him on as he attacked her neck with this honey lips. The same lips that placed loving kisses on your forehead, but now instead of honey they’re venom.

They’re a substance to be used with caution, it’s dangerous to play with something like this. She knew as she pulled him into another kiss and it was at that moment she knew this wouldn’t be the last time they met. When his bedroom closed and the legs opened, he knew this was a mistake. It went on to happen though, with the sound of the headboard assaulting the wall. Making the paint chip with the harder it happened.

He was careful as can be the first time. Besides one thing. He didn’t plan on someone banging on the door with urgency. The sound made him shoot up and his eyes dart to the sleeping body placed beside him. The mystery stranger, whose name he soon found out was Piper. He shook her wildly and tossed her discarded clothes in her direction and made her hide in the closet. It was such a childish thing to do, hide the one who just slept with. Why not own up and just say you got laid.

Oh that’s right he can’t, because that’s not you in the closet. But that could be you at the door, and he can’t let these two situations meet in the middle. Time, that was all he needed, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. He deserved to be caught in his dirty tracks. He deserved to have his dirty laundry aired out for the entire fucking world to see.

She blew him a kiss when he shut the wooden door once more and raced to other. He swung it open and a sight of relief passed through his body. It wasn’t you, but it someone he knew would keep this secret. Jimin eyed his out of breath figure suspiciously and soon let his gaze linger around the room.

“I thought Y/n hated pink?” He questioned, what was supposed to be an innocent question as well. His head tilted in confusion before he put the small puzzle together. You hated pink with a passion, and he knew that bra definitely wasn’t your style. “You mother fucker.”

“Jimin I can explain!” Jungkook gasped out as he yanked the man into his room.

Jimin let out a dry scoff as he watched the women come out of the closet. Jimin forcefully yanked himself away from Jungkooks touch, like the mere brush of his fingertips burned him like a raging fire. His face held a mix of emotions, but disgust was overtaking them all.

“You screwed up big time.”

“Is anyone else here.” Jungkook panicked as he peeked his head out of the door. Seeing no one insight he grabbed a handful of cash and said get a cab to the women. When he finally heard the front door slam shut he turned to a pissed off Jimin. “Don’t say anything! Please!”

“And why the hell should I keep this a secret. You fucking cheated on y/n!” Jimin bellowed as he made wild hand gestures to prove his point. “Besides I don’t even have to open my mouth for her to find out.”

Jungkook held a confused look until he followed Jimin’s gaze down to his neck. At neck breaking speed he raced to his bathroom. His canvas was painted. Purple with splotches of red littered his neck. For once, you weren’t the paintbrush in this example. He knew he was royal screwed now, oh god he didn’t want this to happen.

“Jimin please I’m begging you I love her! I swear this’ll be the only time.” Jungkook sobbed with his bloodshot eyes. He couldn’t lose you, he just couldn’t bare the thought.

“You better not be lying.”

Those five little words lifted a weight off of Jungkook’s shoulders. After this he went on his day as usually, just making sure his neck was covered. On the other hand Jimin was a ball of nerves. The stress from this secret was eating him alive. He should’ve said something and made you’d leave Jungkook once in for all. When he decided to keep this secret he thought it was for a once time mistake, what he didn’t realize was this one time mistake was growing into a common occurrence.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

He’s being distant. A lot more then he is usually. You knew the stress of the upcoming tour, and he needed to sort things out. It was best you kept your distance as well. If only you knew what that meant. Right now he wasn’t complaining about the stressful choreography, but he was praising the women beneath him. After the usually session was done he grabbed his clothes and bolted.

“What took so long?” You questioned as you sat up from the floor.

“Yeah just needed a longer bathroom break.” Jungkook shrugged as he placed a sweet kiss onto your cheek. Your eyes lingered on the sweat that was dripping down his neck and the stain right above the collar of his shirt. Before you had the chance to speak up another voice beat you to it.

“How about we all go out and eat. I can ask Piper to arrange something.” Namjoon suggested as he downed his water.

“I’m up for it.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Jimin felt like he was going to throw up all over his meal. He couldn’t believe that’s she of all people got hired as a personal assistant. He wished he could just scream at the two of them and let this shit get settled. He almost gagged at the sight of them giving sideways glance to each other each time you turned around.

That fucker promised him it was a one time mistake. He’d lost count of how many times he’s caught then since then. The other members are beginning to catch on and oh how they wished they had the balls and tell you. Their breaths hitched slightly when Piper has to excuse herself due to a so called urgent phone call. Like clockwork, Jungkook excused himself to the bathroom.

“Geez, you could cut the tension with a knife.” You commented lightly as you picked up a piece of your meat. Your softly chewed under the tense eyes of the others.

“He’s cheating.”

It caught you off guard. In the process making your meat go down the wrong pipe. Seokjin softly sighed as he hit the boy next to him.

“Are you being serious?”

“Y/n-“

“Don’t say my name when it’s not relevant, are you being serious? Is there any proof?” You asked worriedly as you bounced your leg up and down. Their eyes stayed casted downward and that was all the evidence you needed. You quickly excused yourself and hastily walked towards the restroom. As soon as you yanked opened the bathroom door two figures stepped out of a stall.

You’d remember those red bottom heels anywhere. And those black combat boots as well.

“You’ve got be to fucking kidding me!”

Both stopped dead in their tracks when their eyes landed on you. Your eyes were glossy and tears were screaming to fall over your waterline. Your legs felt like jello as you fell into the nearby wall. Out of instinct Jungkook’s arms began to wrap themselves around your fragile form. When his skin touched your all those suppressed feelings surfaced and a sob raked through your body.

You yanked yourself away and quickly wiped underneath your eyes. If anyone saw you like this then they’d know what happened in this stupid bathroom. You couldn’t afford to cause a scene, if this got out who knows what would happen to the boy’s reputation. Even though you wanted so desperately to take everything away from Jungkook you couldn’t do that to the rest of them, even if they know all along.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

You should’ve connected the dots sooner. From the red wine stain on his white shirt, he drinks tequila and you never drink red. Next, was the late night hours he’d come back home. You knew he worked hard, but he was unusually tired and you never would’ve guessed that the reason was another woman. Lastly, you should’ve known your nose wasn’t fooling you. That cheap perfume was a dead giveaway, since you’d never use something that, well cheap.

If you had just paid a smidge more attention you could’ve avoided this whole thing. The boys wouldn’t have had to lie and keep this dirty secret. Right now you probably wouldn’t have all of his belongings in a box ready for it leave your sight at once.

“Get your shit.”

The harshness of your voice took him back more then a bit. He came not only because of his stuff, but he wanted to make peace. He wanted to try to win you back. It was a stupid plan, at least that’s what everyone was preaching to him, but he needed to make things right.

“Baby please it was an honest mistake.”

“Don’t baby me, and besides cheating is a choice not a mistake.”

The conversation died after those words. They echoed in his brain like a taunt. He deserved it though, is what he kept telling himself. He deserved every ounce of pain and guilt that were gonna come his way. If anything he deserved for his whole career be destroyed, just like destroyed your relationship.

“I know your legs work, use them and leave.”

You have no remorse for him. You wanted him out of your house, and out of your life completely. Not caring about how harsh you sounded, you were not going to be gentle and caring version of yourself. You were going to be a stone cold bitch. Jungkook eyed the box once more with a guilt stricken face. His eyes soon glossed over, and he almost let the sob loose.

“I’m still so sorry, y/n.”

“You should be, now get out.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

He’s a total wreck, from his head to his toes. Everyone could only watch on as his light dimmed each and every day. They felt bad, but he brought this on himself and he needed to learn from his actions. Just because he was famous doesn’t mean his actions can’t have consequences.

“Y/n, he’s a mess.”

That didn’t bother you one bit. It’s only been two weeks since the breakup and in all honesty you were doing fine. Not perfect, but you were getting along just fine without him. By the sounds of it, Jungkook seemed to be taking this hardest.

“Should I care?” You shrugged as you nonchalantly sipped on your drink. “Why am I even here?”

“We just wanted to see if you’d consider just talking to him for a few minutes, the poor boy looks like he could use some time with you.” Yoongi softly spoke, as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He knew how the whole ordeal happened, and he knew this was a touchy subject. Surprisingly, he was the only one who didn’t know this was happening at the start.

“I get it you guys care about him, but he broke my heart. He cheated on me and now I’m gonna have to live with this constant doubt that I’ll never be good enough.”

“You’re more then enough, Y/n.” Jimin stated rather quickly as he soon zipped his mouth shut. His cheeks burned a bright red as he kept his head down.

You ignored those words as your mind kept replaying that night. As you watched the two walk out of that stall. Her burgundy lipstick smeared across her chin, and the shoulder strap of her dress hanging limply beside of her arm. His arm was wrapped around her waist and his lips were still pressing soft kisses to the base of her neck. Then their eyes met yours and the color drained from their faces.

In all honesty, you wished you’d slapped him. Tell him how much of a fucking idiot he was. Make him wither in a pit of his guilt and despair, but you didn’t. You let yourself go in that moment and you swore to yourself that you’d never let yourself get caught up in anything like that again.

“He still texts me a lot.” You sighed as you ran a hand though your hair. The soft sensation calming you down slightly. You shouldn’t have said anything, but you needed to get this off of your chest. “I barley open them, but if I do I never respond.”

“Are you ever gonna talk to him again?” Hoseok asked while his fingers tapped away at the table. As much as you tried to focus on that sound you still couldn’t get the situation out of your head.

“I want to say no, I really do, but in all honesty I’ll probably give in like I always do.” You scoffed at your pathetic self. He cheated, he’s the one who destroyed this relationship. You shouldn’t even give him the time of day. Now here you are actually thinking of talking to him again. Talking to the one person who single handily destroyed the way you see yourself.

“Just talk for a few minutes and get every last thing off of your chest. It might help you feel better.” Taehyung suggested as he gestured to the buzzing phone on the table. The screen lighting up multiple times with a phone number. “Did you take him out of your contacts?”

“I had too, because the temptation to text him got stronger every time I looked at his name.” You mumbled, while fiddling with the sleeve of your worn out sweater. “I thought he would’ve got the hint by now.”

“Y/n, please just try to give him one more chance to get some last minute things off of his chest.”

You took their advice too heart and tried to settle things out. You typed your heartfelt text and poured every ounce of your hatred and sorrow into as well.

Let’s just hope he finally gets the hint, you’re done. And you want him to finally leave and go be with another. Considering it wasn’t that hard for him when you were together, now he’s free real-a-state anyone can have him.

[artificialqueens]

There's No One There, 6/14 (Group Fic) - Marmalade

Summary: One student missing multiple classes without warning can be explained away but when more girls start disappearing, it can’t be dismissed. Jaida, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal may not be friends but if it’s to figure out what’s going on, they’re willing to work together.

A/N: Yeah, last time I estimated that this would be 9 chapters, I organized everything I wanted to happen by chapter and then broke my own system first chapter I wrote after making it so 14 will maybe be closer to the final result.

As far as the girls could gleam from the photograph, they could gather that it was taken from the top floor of the school. Getting to the top floor, however, was not that simple. The halls on the upper level were largely unused and had been for some time. There was some story about a problem with ventilation or the ceiling that was keeping the floor under renovation so none of them had been able to venture there before.

Initially the group had assumed that getting to the fifth floor would be as simple as stepping past a ‘Do not pass’ sign but that proved not to be the case when they peered around the corner and saw a security guard standing by the stair well. This forced them to delay their plan until dinner where they snuck out early and waited for the guards to change shift, before taking advantage of the small window. Though the season was firmly in the arms of spring, winter lurked stubbornly and kept the days short. There was sunlight spilling in the windows now but they knew that it was only a matter of time before sunset came and went.

The hall was cold, the walls were a yellow color that hadn’t been repainted in nearly two decades and a heavy tarp clung to a section of the wall with dust and debris decorating the floor beneath it but otherwise- it was just a hallway.

Crystal shivered and turned to look back; the hall seemed to stretch on endlessly in the dark. Jackie and Gigi had come prepared with flashlights that they had raided from the custodian’s supply closest, illuminating what wasn’t caught by traces of moonlight that showed through the windows. Crystal didn’t know where the supply closest but she had taken Jaida’s snide remark earlier to heart and came equipped with a pencil and a notepad.

“The hall should loop around in a big square like the rest of the school so all we need to do is hug the outer wall until we get back here.” Jackie reasoned, shining her flashlight down either end of the hall. “There should be another stairwell on the opposite side, if two of us go in each direction then we can meet in the middle and cut our time in half.”

After a moment of deliberation, they broke off with Jackie and Jaida going one way and Crystal and Gigi going the other.

-

“You didn’t go into a whole lot of detail about what happened with Aiden in the library.”

“Honestly like- it was so unexpected that in the moment, I didn’t even know what to think.”

The first pair had just rounded the corner, trying every door they could but finding most of them locked. It was a worrying sign but the large windows that line the hall gave them hope that they would still be able to catch a glimpse of the building.

“She was just like so focused on what she was doing and then next time I see her, the bitch is like tearing into books for no reason.”

Jackie pressed her lips into a thin line, racking her brain for a rational explanation. “…Maybe Aiden takes literature super seriously and she thought the author was a hack?” That answer illicit a laugh from Jaida but she couldn’t find herself accepting it as the truth.

“Jackie, listen, when I tell you the bitch looked lost when she got caught, I mean the bitch looked lost.”

“A ploy for attention maybe? Albeit one she didn’t think through and got tongue tied when faced with repercussions?”

“You weren’t there.” Jaida quickened her pace to approach the next window and pressed her hand against it as she peered out. She could see the track and the trees that laid beyond it but nothing that suggested the shed. A chill crept over her shoulder and as Jaida looked up, she could faintly make of the reflection of a face over her shoulder. Jaida was going to tell Jackie that she didn’t have to stand so close to her but as soon as she turned around Jaida saw Jackie standing a few feet away, inspecting a photograph of a long since graduated class.

Jaida stepped out towards the center of the hall; mouth ajar as she looked around which Jackie took note of.

“What?”

“I- bitch- I saw a face in the window.” It was clear from her dry expression that Jackie didn’t believe her. “I did!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just your own reflection?”

“Jackie. Look me in my god damn eyes and tell me you think I’m the type a bitch who can’t recognize her own reflection.”

Before Jackie could respond the sound of a distant thud caused both girls to swivel their heads to look down the hall. The first thought that either girl had was that it was Gigi and Crystal but they had gone the other direction and it seemed doubtful that they would have made it all the way back around.

Both girls made a brisk walk further down the hall to investigate but they could find nothing that would have made the noise. They even peered in through the windows on doors and tried to handles but nothing budged. Jackie kept walking but Jaida slowed to a stop. Her heart was racing and she had no idea why. She wanted to keep walking but Jaida couldn’t shake the inexplicable urge to turn around.

The hall was empty. Jaida held her gaze and her breath. A frame fell from the wall and shattered against the floor.

“Fuck!” Jaida jumped back. She felt a hand on her shoulder and nearly jerked her elbow back before realizing that the hand belonged to Jackie.

“Jaida! What is going on with you today?” Jaida slowly lowered her arms and straightened her back.

“I don’t know, okay? Like, weird shit keeps happening you keep not seeing it so can we please just keep going before the sun goes down so we don’t have to come back and do this all again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I think we should be almost at the end of our half, so at this rate the shed’s probably on Gigi and Crystal’s side.” They pressed on but as they turned the corner, where should have been another long hall was a wall with a large mural about world peace painted over it, dying rays of sunlight casting it in an orange hue. Jackie shone her flashlight all over the mural.

“I don’t get it! What’s this wall doing here?” Jackie was usually the one providing a logical explanation and yet it was something as mundane as a wall where there shouldn’t have been that was confounding her. As if on que, the sound of footsteps echoed behind them, heavy and unfamiliar.

“You hear that too, right?” Jaida whispered, Jackie just nodded in response and they both slowly turned to see a figure moving towards them.

-

“Can I ask you something?”

Crystal and Gigi’s side of the search had been admittedly slower paced and filled with intermitted conversation about how Gigi couldn’t comprehend how anyone thought that this shade of yellow would look good painted on the walls.

“You already did.” Gigi replied wryly as she looked out the window. “No shed from thith view either.” Crystal nodded and wrote something down in her notepad before holding it close to her chest.

“Um, did you bite your tongue or something today? You’ve been kinda lispy.” Gigi’s blood ran cold and she peeled away from the window with wide eyes.

“It’th-“ Gigi glanced around and cupped her hand next to her mouth, whispering even though they were alone. “It’th that noticeable?”

“What’s going on?” Crystal whispered back. Gigi pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“Okay but don’t tell anyone this. I…wear a retainer?” Crystal couldn’t help but crack a smile that she hid behind her notepad.

“That’s it?

“That’s it? No- I- hhhh. I had to wear head gear for a long time, everyone used to call me Metal Mouth, the big reathon why I wanted to come here was becauthe no one knew me and I could finally be the cool one. When I downgraded to my retainer, I practiced enunciating all summer long but it’th getting warn down. I wath at the orthadontitht yesterday but I have to wait until I go home to get my new retainer, some insurance bullshit.” Gigi huffed and folded her arms, before glancing back towards Crystal. “Promithe you won’t go around judging me or telling people?”

“Judge you? I gave myself a mullet in a communal bathroom, I don’t think I legally can.” A small smile formed on Gigi’s face and she let her arms fall to her sides. “Plus- I think we’ve put in enough mystery hunting hours together to be considered friends. Your secret’s safe with me!”

“If we’re friends does that mean I can borrow your jacket?” Gigi asked half-jokingly.

“No, I need it, it’s freezing up here.”

“I know! No one even uses this floor; are they air conditioning it? Isn’t heat the one that riseth?”

“I dooon’t remember?”

Their increasingly off topic conversation came to an end when Gigi abruptly turned back to the window, sure that she just saw movement. The grounds below were empty and it had happened so quickly that Gigi couldn’t even define a shape from it, just the direction that it had gone. Having the faintest bit of a haunch, Gigi took off at a brisk pace down the hall in the hopes of catching the figure from another window.

“Wait- don’t leave me here alone!” Crystal cried as she went after her.

Gigi would slow her pace to look closely out the windows but never stilled, each time she caught the shape just as it moved out of view. She kept her eyes trained on the windows until her view very suddenly shifted to the ground. A chair had been moved against the wall and in Gigi’s fixation on catching sight of the shape she had neglected to look forward, she ran into the chair and her legs were swept out from under her and over her head as she careened to the floor, taking the chair with her with a loud clang.

She never lost consciousness, at least not to her knowledge, but Gigi spent a good while on the floor in a daze- awake but her limbs felt too heavy to raise. The daze finally began to ebb away and Gigi found it in herself to begin pulling herself off the ground, a slow set of footsteps gaining volume behind her before stopping.

“Mind helping me up, Crys?” Gigi rubbed her head as she untangled her legs from the overturned chair, she could imagine the bruises that she would wake up with. There was no response from Crystal, not her lending Gigi a hand or saying anything. Gigi turned to look over her shoulder to see that Crystal wasn’t standing there, no one was.

She got up slowly, fixing the chair before she used it as leverage to stand. The sun was much lower now, dark blues just starting to bleed into the hues of sunset and it wouldn’t be long before night came to mask everything from view.

Gigi didn’t see Crystal down the hall, but there was a single door open that Gigi didn’t recall being open before. She walked towards it with her head held high and ignored the raw feeling on her knee, confident that that was where Crystal had gone. Footsteps picked up behind her. Gigi stopped and spun around, still no one there. She slowly began walking again. Footsteps, heavy and rapid, followed. Gigi practically ran to the door and skidded to stop at the door.

There stood Crystal, her back to Gigi as she looked out the window.

“Earth to Planet Crystal, did you not hear me fall and the footstepth?” Gigi called out but Crystal didn’t seem to react. Gigi stepped inside and realized that Crystal wasn’t actually looking out the window. Her head was low, focused on the notepad in her hands as she wrote something down. “Crystal?” Gigi walked up beside her before she looked out the window. She squinted her eyes and leaned close to the glass before spotting a light-colored slab peeking through the distant tree brush. “Oh my god, ith that it? Crystal you found it!” Gigi pressed her hands against the glass and leaned to try and gauge any landmarks. “What ith that, the theater? And on that side the- track, right?”

Crystal had yet to put her pencil down or do anything else that would acknowledge Gigi’s existence. Gigi pursed her lips and ran her tongue along her teeth before she reached out and tried to pull the notepad from Crystal’s hands. That finally managed to get her attention, Crystal tightened her grip on the notepad and attempted to pull it back in a manner that caught Gigi off guard. Crystal said something harshly in Spanish that Gigi couldn’t understand. The notepad fell from their hands onto the floor and both reached to pick it up, banging their heads together in the process.

“Oww.” Crystal rubbed her forehead while Gigi grabbed the notepad.

“Oh, that got your attention? Glad to know that if I got knocked out, you would be off drawing trees. Can we go find Jackie and Jaida now? I wanna be anywhere that won’t freeze my noise off.” Crystal nodded, Gigi was quick on her heels to turn and exit. Almost as soon as she walked into the hall, Gigi made two big steps back into the classroom.

“There’s a thecurity guard in the hall, I don’t think he thaw me.” Gigi whispered as she pressed herself against the wall. If she felt like she was in a spy movie before, now she was feeling it tenfold.

“Maybe he will pass.” Crystal replied, it could have just been because she was whispering back but her voice lacked its usual squeakiness. Their eyes feel onto the teacher’s desk at the same time and they quietly crept as quickly as possible to it, Crystal ducking under first and moving to make room for Gigi. Just as she was kneeling down to climb under, the ray of a flashlight poured over her.

“What are you doing up here?” The security guard asked firmly, she had never so much as heard one of the guards speak before, it was almost jarring. Gigi stood up, eyes wide and lips tightly pressed together as she pressed her hands flat on the desk.

“I…” Gigi gritted her teeth as she looked around. When she realized how futile the effort was her entire face scrunched up and she buried it in her hands.

“Out here, now.” Gigi flipped the notepad closed and took a step back, Crystal stayed rooted in her hiding spot. “Now. I already found the rest of your little group.” Gigi did as he said and once in the hall the guard grabbed her by the arm and began marching her back towards the stairs. Gigi looked back over her shoulder to see Crystal now peering out of the door way with an empty expression. Gigi made it very clear on her face she was not amused but said nothing as the guard took her away.

[senaar-ika]

The Pixie & The Bard: Ch. 1

Hi there. It’s been a while. I honestly just haven’t had the creative energy or motivation to write recently. I moved house and started working more and I’m about to start a new semester of university. What with the world being a flaming trash bin my brain hasn’t quite been up for much. 

Welcome to all the new followers and thank you to everyone who’s stuck around. I’ve had this first chapter of a multi-chaptered fic sitting in my drafts for a while so I thought why not share. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: You’re working as a fairy at a Renaissance Festival in the New York countryside when you meet Charlie and Henry. A father and son who are quite the pair. You flirt with guests at the festival for fun all the time, but something feels different about this one . . . 

CW/Tags: nothing major, just heavy flirting, awkward dad Charlie, literally too much Henry but I promise his relationship to reader is important, also E making up shit about renaissance faires, this is mostly just me longing to dress up like a fairy and go to a festival and watch people joust ok 

Word Count: 2.6k

Chapter 1 - An Chance Encounter

The festival grounds are surrounded on all sides by forest. Trodden down dirt walking paths snake past vendors and performers, ultimately leading visitors to the main events in the center clearing. The Fairy Tree -as it is affectionately known by performers and guests alike- is your territory. The ancient sycamore tree looks like something right from the pages of a storybook with its sprawling roots, knotted trunk, and layers of thick branches. 

Your inner child sprang out on your first day when your manager led you to the tree, explaining that your character should mostly keep in a close radius to it. She didn’t have to tell you twice. You were up the tree and swinging casually from the branches in minutes. Some of the other fairy cast members wander the festival, making mischief and spreading glitter. But you’re perfectly content to hang around your tree. 

Of course you’re safe, never climbing too high or swinging too recklessly. You keep a little wooden flute at one hip and your bag of “fairy dust” at the other. Piping out mysterious tunes from up in the tree only to surprise guests who happened along past. If they have children you often toss a handful of sparkling fairy dust down, relishing their squeals of delight. 

Today is Saturday. First Saturday to be exact. First Saturday is always the busiest, or at least that’s what the returning cast members have been telling you. First Saturday always falls on the first weekend when schools are closed for the summer, so the families turn out in droves. You likely won’t get a real break today; it’s all hands on deck. 

You lean against the trunk of the old fairy tree, one arm hugged as far around it as you can. You’re only about ten feet up, but it feels like you’re part of the forest. A breeze rustles the leaves, bright and green for the start of summer. You close your eyes gently. In the distance you hear a horn sound and a wave of cheers rise up, carried by the breeze. 

Afternoon tournament already? The day has flown by. Cast members don’t get to have any modern technology on hand while performing, so you tend to gauge the time by the schedule of festivities. Afternoon tournament started at two. You’d been up in the tree since lunchtime. The tournaments, which include jousting, sword fighting, and axe throwing, pull the biggest crowds. Meaning smaller attractions got a bit of a break. 

Carefully you slide down to sit, resting your back against the trunk and balancing your legs horizontally along the length of the branch. You breathe in deeply, just listening for the familiar sounds of the tournament. 

“Dad, look!” The whisper-shout of a young boy pulls you away from the quiet, but your first glance at the boy’s father nearly fells you from your perch. Tall, dark, and built like one of the festival’s knights. He’s focused on his phone, typing furiously. The boy tugs at his father’s sleeve, trying very hard not to look away from you, as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“What is it, Henry?” It isn’t sharp, just distracted, offhanded, but the bassy richness of the man’s voice sends a flutter to your chest. 

“There’s a lady up in the tree! Look!” You smile down at the boy, Henry, leaning forward a bit so that the iridescence of your wings catches the light, and you wave. The dad glances up briefly from his phone only to do a double take.  

“Hail and well met, gentlemen!” You called, pitching your voice up and putting on your character’s fairy accent. “Ye wouldn’t happen to be lost would ye?” 

Henry is quick to speak up, “My dad is trying to get a good phone signal!” The dad’s face turns a ridiculous shade of pink, his expression sheepish and embarrassed. You giggle, swinging your legs over the side of the branch so they dangle. 

“I dunno what that is, young lad, but perhaps he’d have better luck with a carrier pigeon?” One of the top rules was to always stay in character. No talking about modern life. Immersion is key and after all you’re here to make magic. But Henry seems confused.

“You don’t know what a phone signal is? Don’t you have a phone?” Ah so he’s one of those smart kids. Before you can say anything, Henry’s father cuts in.

“She’s a fairy, Henry, look. Fairies don’t have phones.” The dad explains, gently. His voice is practiced, as though he has to explain a lot to his son. You nod along with him, crossing your ankles and propping your chin on your hand. 

“Aye, he’s right!” You chime in, “And you two look like . . . hmmm.” You scrunch your face in consternation for a moment. “Ah! I know! A knight and his squire?” You point from father to son.

Henry starts to laugh and his father smiles, looking from you to his son and back. 

“Yes! Young squire Henry and the brave knight Sir . . .” You trail off, gesturing towards the boy’s father. 

“Charlie,” He finishes, holding your gaze steadily. You feel your grin widen and you tilt your head, reminding yourself to stay in character. 

It’s not like flirting with guests is discouraged; actually, it’s almost expected of most fairy cast members. You’ve just never been caught off guard like this before. Something about this man, Charlie, sends your heart racing. Perhaps because he seems far too dashing for a dad, or maybe it’s how quickly he is willing to play into the immersion of your job. 

“So the brave knight, Sir Charlie, and young squire Henry find themselves at the Fairy Tree.” You slide yourself over to the trunk and begin climbing down, using the little foot and hand holds nailed into the tree. “Trying to relay a message with no luck?” 

When you reach the ground, Henry bolts over to you. “Why didn’t you just fly down?” 

You crouch down to his height. “Flying for me is like running for you. It’s so exhausting!” 

Henry nods, understanding, and looks back over his shoulder at his dad, still standing a ways back. Charlie smiles at the two of you before glancing back at his phone. 

“My dad is trying to send a picture of me to my mom.” There it is. You feel something in your chest sink a little. You should’ve expected it really. Hot dad and cute kid? There has to be a mom somewhere in the picture. Henry, unaware that his simple statement shook you, continues on. “She lives in LA, but I get to come see my dad every month. He likes to take me to do things like this.” Oh, hot divorcee dad. 

“And what have ye done around the festival today, young lad?” You actually smile as Henry carries on in that childlike way, just talking. Simple statements. Pouring out their day for you. 

The two of you plop down to the forest floor. Henry absentmindedly plays with the grass and pebbles. You pluck a couple of clovers from the grass and begin stringing them together. Usually the fairies are encouraged to tell stories to the children, but this particular child seems happy to tell you the story of his day. Henry is just finishing up recounting how they had eaten turkey legs and french fries for lunch when his dad approaches. 

“I’m surprised to see such an adventurous pair missing the tournament,” You remark, handing Henry the bracelet of clovers you had woven while he was talking. “But I’m glad to hear your stories, young Henry.” 

“There’s a tournament?” Henry’s eyes light up as you slip into your role, telling him all about the lore of the festival.

“Why of course, young Henry! Every sixth day the King holds tournaments where our bravest and strongest knights may show their skill! There’s sword fighting and jousting and horses, and of course all the fair maidens of the kingdom come as well!” You try to avoid looking up at Charlie, squatting down beside his son, for fear of stumbling over your words. “The fairy folk like me perform great songs and dances for the royal court, and all the guests like you cheer and awe at all the talent!”

Henry is hanging on your every word, completely frozen and enraptured in your performance. 

“Unfortunately for you, the tournament for today is probably just finishing up.” Seeing the boy’s face start to sink with disappointment you add, “But! After the tournament the fairy folk will lead a parade back to this very tree and we’ll tell stories! There’s always a bit o’ music with our stories. I play this!” You pull your flute from its slot on your belt and hold it up for Henry, whispering your next sentence. “If you and Sir Charlie aren’t in a rush, I suggest you stick around, the parade should be arriving any minute now.” 

“Can we stay, dad?” Henry turns excitedly towards his father, eyes still wide. Charlie’s face breaks into a full grin that goes all the way to his eyes which crinkle at the corners. A noticeable dimple also appears on his cheek. Stay in character, you have to remind yourself. 

“Of course, honey, if you want to.” Charlie places a hand gently on his son’s back. 

It seems as though Charlie’s about to say something to you, but before he can you’re overtaken by the sound of jingling bells, flutes, and footsteps crunching along the dirt path. 

“The parade!” Henry scrambles to his feet, turning in the direction of the noise. 

You catch Charlie’s gaze as you both move to stand up as well. He mouths a silent “Thank you.” You smile and give him a wink, lifting your flute to your lips. Moving quickly, you dance back to the tree and climb up to hang by one hand from one of the handholds nailed into the trunk. The tune of your flute matches up with the commotion coming up the path. 

At least once a day, a large group arrives at the Fairy Tree led by cast members like yourself. It’s part of the job, performing like that. So why are you so nervous? 

The parade rounds the forest bend, finally coming into sight. Two fairy cast members lead the group, one with a tambourine, the other a pan flute. A dozen or so children are close behind with a couple more fairies mixed in. Bemused parents and adult stragglers make up the rear. 

“Aha!” The performer with the tambourine, halts the parade and points to you. “Kind guests and members of the parade, this is our sister Dewdrop!”

You hop back down to the ground, lowering your flute, and slip into the loose script that formed around storytime each day. “Are we to tell these fine folks a story today, Evergreen?”

And with your line, you settle. This is just your job. You do this every day. Every day there’s a new story. Every day there’s a new crowd. 

You and the other fairies sit the little ones down on “toadstool” seats while the adults gather around. Henry choses the seat closest to where you stand, you notice, so you make sure to give him a smile when you can. Like a good actor, you dance your eyes across the crowd, trying to bounce rather than stick to anyone in particular. But.

But you can’t help but get stuck on Charlie. He’s watching you so intently, occasionally glancing down at Henry as he laughs at all the silly jokes and goofs. Today’s story is one about how the king of the festival was trapped and magicked to dance for eternity by the trickster pixies until a kind hearted fairy saved him. The stories are always a bit silly like that. 

When you and the other fairies take your final bow, all conducting the children in a chorus of “The end!” and tossing handfuls of fairy dust, you make eye contact with Charlie again. Everyone is clapping politely. He’s smiling at you. You hold his gaze for just one second longer. He’s the first to look away, clearing his throat and raising his gaze to the treetops. You barely have time to process what just happened before Henry is tugging at your skirt. 

“You didn’t tell me your name is Dewdrop!” He exclaims, somehow still thriving off of the high energy of the show. 

You giggle, dropping down to his level. “You never asked, young Henry!” 

“That’s a funny name.” He scrunches his nose in such an innocent way you can’t help but smile. 

“Well all the fairies are named a bit differently than you humans.” You explain, “We’re given names that connect us to nature and-” 

“Wait a second!” Henry interrupts and suddenly runs over to his dad. 

They converse softly for a moment, Charlie leaning down so Henry can whisper in his ear. Charlie seems to be thinking hard about whatever his son is saying. He flicks his eyes over to you for what seems like a millisecond, you can’t even be sure he did look at you. Then he nods and Henry scampers back over to you. 

“My dad says we can come back tomorrow! I want to see the fighting and the contests like you said!” Your heart seems to stop for a second before you become very aware of it beating in your ears. 

“That - That’s wonderful, young lad!” You shake yourself back to this fantasy that is reality. “You must stop by the tree and say hello then.” You chance a look over at Charlie to find his eyes locked on you. He smiles and gives a slight nod of his head. 

He steps forward reaching for his son’s hand. “Alright, Henry, let’s get going now and let our friend get back to doing … fairy stuff.” Henry’s face scrunches in a way that your years of working around children tell you he’s not thrilled at the idea of leaving. So you swoop in with a little assist. 

“Sir Charlie’s right, young lad.” You take a pinch of fairy dust from the pouch on your belt, “I’ve got official fairy business to attend to around the festival. But here, I’ll give you a bit of parting sparkle so that you’ll shine until we meet again!” With a flourish, you dust Henry’s flower bracelet with the glittery powder. 

That seems to satisfy the young boy as he gives you a toothy grin and turns to leave with a quick “Bye! See you tomorrow!” 

“Well hang on just a second!” You decide to milk this moment a tiny bit more, just for fun. “That’s no way to leave a proper lady! Give us a bow and a fare thee well!” 

Henry looks confused for a second but Charlie elbow’s him lightly. “Like this,” he whispers. He executes a wonderfully low bow, crying out “Fare thee well, Dewdrop! We shall return on the morrow!” in an over the top sort of faux English accent. 

You laugh, fully, almost definitely out of character. That’s when Charlie looks up from his bow, holding your eyes as he rises back up to his full height. After a second, he clears his throat and elbows at Henry again, muttering “Your turn.”

Henry does his best to imitate his father, but his bow is a bit shaky. “Fare thee well, Dewdrop! We shall . . . Dad what is it?” 

“We shall return on the morrow,” Charlie mumbles, failing to conceal a smile. 

“We shall return tomorrow!” Henry finishes and stands back upright. 

As the two of them finally start down the dirt trail you call after them. “Safe travels, Sir Charlie and Squire Henry! T’was a true pleasure that our paths should cross!” 

“Bye!” Henry yells back. 

Charlie looks over his shoulder at you one more time. You wave. He smiles. And then they turn the corner. And they’re gone. 

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Prompt: Cry me a river, I cried a river over you.

Part ONE:

The train northbound was packed, not unusual, but it made Claire feel exposed. She’d begun crying the moment she’d received the phone call and hadn’t stopped since. It was the reason she was using public transport in the first place and not driving - the last thing she needed was to be involved in a car accident because of her impaired vision.

Adorned with inappropriately large sunglasses on a dismal day, with her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to hide as much of her face as possible, she had boarded at Oxford, her chest tight as it suddenly dawned on her that she was trailing all the way up to Glasgow and she wouldn’t be seeing Lamb alive.

“Christ…” she sighed under her breath, her eyes tingling once more as the tears began to build.

Her uncle, Quentin Lambert, had been settled in Scotland for some time - something quite odd for him, he was definitely more of the travelling sort. He’d started on a memoir that he’d meant to publish and had, on several occasions, asked for Claire’s companionship and assistance. Caught up in her own drama, she had declined and the guilt sat low in her belly making it almost impossible to eat or sleep.

A gentle Irish train guard pulled her from her dark thoughts and she quietly pulled her ticket from the small purse that sat open on the food tray in front of her before going back to staring out of the window.

Parents both dead by the tender age of twelve, Claire had been sent to live with Lamb. His life as a traveling archeologist was not suited to raising a child and he had tried to place Claire in a boarding school - though she had other ideas. Smiling, she thought back to the day she’d finally pushed the headmistress of the school too far causing uncle Lamb to have to cut short a sudden trip to India and return to England to fetch her. She remembered fondly throwing the stupid boater she’d been graced with as part of the uniform into a nearby hedge as they’d driven away down the long drive. Her formative years had been spent in the desert - surrounded by her uncles peers, graduates and students, she had learned to fend for herself.

Though she had good memories of her mother and father, it was Lamb who had raised her through her most difficult teenage years and at the end of his life, when he had so desperately wanted to involve her in his hobbies once more, she had forsaken him for silly follies.

Lost to her guilt and self-loathing, she completely lost track of time and it wasn’t until the young woman sat next to her rose from her seat that she realised the train had come to a grinding halt.

The battle through Glasgow Central train station gave her a moment to focus on something else, her heart racing and her hands clammy as she pulled her rather large suitcase through, nudging and shoving tourists and locals alike in order to make it out onto the street.

Her name shone in bright red ink, the sign hiding the face of the man who held it as she shook her head.

“I h-hadn’t called anyone?” She said, shocked that there was anyone here who would know her.

“Aye, ye did. The other day. I thought it would be easier for ye if someone was here to collect you rather than spend more time on yer own.”

“Oh.” She replied. The word stuck in her throat as she recalled the very short phone call she’d made to the funeral director a few mornings prior when she’d booked her train ticket. A simple nod to the man who’d been emailing her and organising as much as he could with her hundreds of miles away. “Are you with the funeral company then?” Claire found it odd that any of them would be worried enough to come out and collect her personally - but was grateful at the same time. Riding in the comfort of a car without having to hunt down a taxi, make inane conversation and then struggle to find her uncles address made the end of the journey just a little easier.

“Ah,” he replied, finally pulling the sign low enough that she could see the bright mop of red hair that sat proudly above a glowing set of blue eyes, “nah, I’m no’ with them. I’m Jamie,” he continued, holding out his free hand for her to shake. “Jamie Fraser. I was working on the book with yer uncle. I work with the publicist he’d hired. Did he tell ye?”

When she didn’t respond, he simply smiled and continued as if the small twitch of her lips was enough. “I’m a ghost writer. He was struggling to write himself, so he hired me to type whilst he spoke, told me all sorts of stories and I, in turn, edited it, re-worded it sometimes or just added it to the appropriate section of the book.”

Guilt reared its ugly head again, making Claire understand more fully why Lamb might have wanted her company so badly and she bit her lip to contain the tears. Repeating herself, she swallowed audibly and nodded, “oh…good.” Making it sound sincere, she smiled as much as she was able before allowing him to place his arm softly around her waist and guide her towards his waiting car.

The ride itself was quiet and uneventful. Claire needed the time to decompress the situation, her brain going from nought to one hundred in the short twenty minute car journey. They approached the quaint brownstone property on the outskirts of the city with little to no issue. It had its own private garage and Jamie flicked a switch on a small remote to open and close the large grey-brown door. Taking the stairs in a small passage way, they made their way up onto the first floor, Jamie opening and closing everything behind her as well as carrying her heavy case.

“So,” she spoke, her voice husky from her constant sobbing, “how long have you known my uncle?” Though she knew it must have been long enough for him to entrust the lad with a key to his home and his car.

“Nearly three years now, going on for four. We were…” stopping, he wiped his eyes on his sleeve clearly choked up by recent events himself, “well, we were so very close to finishing. Part of me thinks it should be me who writes the ending, ye ken, for his memory. But I dinna even know where to start.”

“Shit.” Cursing, she turned her back on Jamie and held her hand over her mouth. She wanted to scream, to cry, to punch something…mostly she wanted to turn back time and relive all of the times she’d said no to coming up here and turn them into a yes. Just once would have been enough, and she knew it. Just one time, she would have arrived and never left… “I should have been here.”

“He spoke of ye often. Yer in the manuscript, if you want to read it?” Avoiding her self flagellation completely, Jamie placed his hand on her shoulder and offered her an olive branch. Though he couldn’t deny her deprecating words, it wasn’t his place to say what she should or should not have done. He could see the guilt drawn plainly on her face, though he couldn’t see her eyes he knew that they’d be red rimmed and she seemed so incredibly tired that he couldn’t bring himself to add any more blame at her door.

“T-thank you, Jamie. For everything. For clearly being here for him when I wasn’t. I’m sure you were a dear friend.”

Knowing her uncles proclivities - even from a young age - she knew his interest in young men rather than ladies and part of her, in her grief, wondered whether he had become more than just a friend to Lamb. But her instincts told her now was not the time to pry.

“I would really love to read it.”

“We have a few days until the funeral, how about I email you the first draft. It’s open ended, mind, so dinna worry about the sudden stop.”

“Thank you.” She said again, taking his hand, bringing it to her mouth and kissing it softly as she turned to find her way upstairs. Halting at the door she assumed to lead her that way, she turned -removing her glasses as she did so. “I’m so rude, sorry, is there a guest bedroom here? Somewhere I’d be alright staying for a few weeks?”

“Of course! And dinna be daft, ye arena rude at all. Ye’ve just lost someone dear to ye. I’m all over the place too, so I canna imagine how you feel.”

Though she got the distinct feeling that he could.

“Can I ask how long ye intend to stay for Claire? If ye dinna mind?”

Having been a trust fund child living off the money gifted to her from her parents’ death, she’d had no worries in the years after her graduation. The estate had been in the family for hundreds of years, friends of the family the same, and she had finished both her BSc and her Masters in History before going on to complete a few of her own independent research papers whilst living off that inheritance. Oxford, although her home for many years, held little to return to and her heart almost stopped at the realisation as the dread crept along her veins.

“A month, maybe. Once the funeral is done I want to stay and finalise his estate. The lawyers have already been in touch but it might take a while to go through everything that was in his name, notify them and so on. Do you live here, Jamie?” She added her question quietly, as if the asking of it might infer something else.

“Ach, no. I moved in for the last few weeks. I think he kent it was nearing the end and wanted the book finished. He insisted that was the best, so that we could work day and night as we needed. But I have my own place across the city.”

‘I should have been here…’ the statement rattled around in her head once more, the ghost of it returning to haunt her. If she had, things might have been different.

“First on the right as you get to the top of the stairs,” he whispered, seeing her pupils dilate and her lips clench as she lost herself in thought. He could see that she desperately needed some time to herself, to cry and to deliberate on all the things left undone and unsaid between her and Lamb, “it’s got a double bed and an en-suite. He meant for ye to have that room and it’s all been made up for ye.”

Nodding, she held her purse tightly and rushed off up and away from him, leaving her suitcase there. Seeing the room, she let herself in, closed the door and flopped against it - her body feeling boneless as she slumped down and curled herself into a ball, crying as the words of the last song she’d heard on the radio, a Michael Bublè classic to add some irony to the situation, in the kitchen swirled around her crowded mind.

[macybeckham7]

Love Is a Losing Game

chapter 12

previous chapter 11

As soon as Ruben walked into the Spurs training centre everyone thought the Chelsea midfielder was here to see his former manager. Luckily for him José was making his way to the front desk to pick up something.

He gave his former player a hug with Ruben instantly going straight to the point which was where was Yn. José wasn’t going to tell him as he put two and two together, thinking he was the reason she had a bruised face.

‘Please, I just need to know why she didn’t tell me’ he pleaded.

‘She didn’t tell you because you hurt her enough, you didn’t want her’ he says in a low voice.

He raised his brows at him. He knew. He heard a voice which made him look upstairs and he found her. She was pushing Dele, Ruby and some guy out of the office.

José let his guard down for a brief second which allowed the 6 foot 3 footballer to dart past him. José was quick to follow him shouting for the security to do their job.

‘YOU CANNOT BE HERE!’ José called after him.

He got to the door and banged on the wooden door, it opened pretty swiftly, as soon as their eyes met he felt even more pissed than before. As she looked pretty surprised as she looked at the two people behind him.

‘What is he doing here?’ Dele appeared, asking pretty dryly. ‘Haven’t you fucked her over enough? You’re a low life’ he snapped as he stepped towards him.

José and the guard standing inbetween them.

Ruben let out a low chuckle. ‘What about you? Throwing her to the side when Ruby came back’

‘What a great career you’ve had’ Dele grinned. ‘Who leaves the girl who you are supposed to care so much about for your sorry excuse of a career?’

....

Yn let out a deep breath as she watched Ruben get escorted off the property, he was bloodied and bruise from his little altercation with Dele. Eric and the security had to tear the international teammates away from eachother while José was trying to calm Yn down from her recent panic attack.

Ruben looked up before he climbed into the car and locked eyes with Yn, he knew he had hurt her and he couldn’t even forgive himself. To even think of the things she had went through all because of him. He was young and stupid and he hurt the girl that he fell for.

The door opened making her look over her shoulder and saw it was José, he gave her a small smile and walked over to her and gently wrapped his arm around her.

‘I’m sorry’ she whispered before bursting into tears.

His grasp tightened around her, and gently kissing her forehead. ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for’

....

The sound of the door opening made Yn stand up straight and look to see Dele walking out. They both gave eachother sympathetic smiles, YN’s eyes softened as she saw the impact Ruben’s fist had done to his face.

She quietly stepped towards him and gently caressed his cheek over the bruise that was already coming up. He let out a small hiss and pulling away from her.

‘You should see the other guy if you think this looks bad’ he jokes, but pretty quickly dropping his laughter.

‘You didn’t have to get involve’ she mutters.

His brows furrow. ‘Didn’t have to get involved, he was a complete asshole, he deserves everything I gave him’

He caresses her cheek, his soft brown orbs meeting hers before he leans in and gently captures her lips. His hand went to the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss, he pushed her against the wall. A small moan left her mouth as she felt his tongue go against her bottom lip asking for access. Her hands ran down his tongue chest before they got tangled into his curls.

‘Jump’ he muttered.

She did and he caught her as she wrapped her legs around him. Neither of them cared about where they were or who could potentially see them.

He walked them to the closest door and pinned her up against the door and locked the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed.

‘We’ll be in serious shit if we get caught’ she breathed out.

Dele replying with a snide smirk. ‘José loves you, I think you’ll be alright’ he kisses her softly. ‘You’ll just have to be quiet’

He sits behind the desk, with Yn instantly taking control, she pulls her skirt up as she starts grinding against him, making him moan against her mouth. His grasp on her hips become harsh. She pulls his trousers down and grabs at his member making him hiss. She lines herself up and sinks down on his cock making them both moan in delight.

Her hips were rocking as she rode his cock amazingly, their breathing was heavy as they sounded like panting dogs. Dele grabs ahold of her jaw and pulls her towards him, he mutters out for her to go faster which she starts bouncing on him, her moans getting louder before he shoved his fingers inside her mouth for her to suck on.

Her body shakes on top of him as she reaches her high, he watches her eagerly as she looks so hot, as she bites her bottom lip as she orgasms.

Not long after they sort themselves out there is a knock on the door interrupting their make out session. She quickly wipes his mouth which is all swollen from kissing and gets any trace of lipgloss off him.

They pull apart before Yn opens the door, there was a middle aged women who looked inbetween the two clearly knowing what they were up to just seconds before. Dele mutters about they have sorted out the issue now and gently pushes the girl out with him.

....

Ruby watched from the canteen as the team trained, her eyes scanned all the guys wearing purple, protecting themselves from the cold with snoods and hats and gloves, but she managed to notice which one was Dele. She knew that she was losing him, they had been arguing a lot lately and she hasn’t been spending much time with him. They both thought the last time that if they get a dog together, that’ll help them, but it didn’t. Seemed to get worse, she knew that Dele was taking girls back to their apartment, picking up girls on nights out or flirting with them on DM’s on Instagram, but he always came back to her.

Her eyes fell on YN, as soon as she saw her she was jealous, she was exactly Dele’s type. She was wearing the teams tracksuit with her own initials, she had her hair in a two braids, she was currently kneeling down with Hugo her main target. Ruby unlocked her phone and went to Spurs Instagram and looked through all the photos, all the ones with Yn underneath were all amazingly better than Ed’s. She managed to get everyone’s emotions perfectly in one snapped shot. She found one of Dele who was posing with Winksy in the gym, she couldn’t help but smile because that was just typical Dele.

She made her way down to the training field, Yn slyly looked over at her before she carried on taking shots of the guys. Ruby slowly walked over to her, as if she was catching her pray. She watched as she looked down at her camera.

‘Nice little bruise you got there’ Ruby sang. She gave her boyfriend a small smile as he looked over at the two girls.

One was his girlfriend but he couldn’t remember the last time they were even just the two of them. And the other was still heavily all over his body from the night prior, which neither of them got a lot of sleep.

Eric laughed as he saw his teammate looking at the two girls. He gently wrapped his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder.

‘What do you think they are talking about?’ Eric muttered. ‘No the bigger question is, when are you going to tell Ruby you don’t love her anymore?’ He questioned.

‘Probably debating how small your dick is’ He laughed, making him and Harry laugh.

Yn locked eyes with him giving him a questioning look, before walking off leaving Ruby.

...

As Yn was walking out of the training centre she was getting a phone call, she looked down at the Caller ID and read it was Isaac, Ruben’s brother calling. She let out a deep sigh before answering the phone, with him him instantly rambling about something to do with Ruben, she instantly feeling her heart begin to race. Dele noticed the way her face drained of colour.

[thewritingstar]

Gift Swap!!

So for the @kuroshironekoserver gift exchange, I got the lovely @diabl0o

now you asked for BakuDeku which ive never written before so i apologize in advanced but this was kinda fun to write their dynamic so i hope you enjoy this and if you dont i am sorry for the trash you are about to read. Anyways here ya go :) 

Pairing: BakuDeku

Word count: 2.5k

---

The bell gave off its routine ringing and all students from every class made their way to the cafeteria for lunch. Chatter and laughter filled the hallways and Class 1-A was no exception. They had all finished up their English session with Present Mic and were packing up their bags and filing out the doors.

Deku fiddled with his notebook before huffing and pushing open the door, too many thoughts were running in his mind as the day had gone by. He was one to over think everything but this was on a whole new level.

“Deku!” Uraraka called and he turned around to find her wrapping her arm around his and started walking with him. “Are you nervous?” She asked, which in both of their defenses was an understatement and lackluster question in general.

“Yeah, I just hope it goes well.” His palms began to sweat as he wiped them on his pants and they took a seat at their usual table with Todoroki, Iida and Tsyu.

“I'm sure it will be amazing! Don’t worry!” Her usual bright smile should have made him feel better but it didn’t, not in the slightest.

“What's gonna go amazing?” Tsyu asked and all eyes were on the sweating green bean of a boy.

“Today you’re asking Bakugou out and hoping that he doesn’t reject you and ruin your life right?” The bluntness of Todorkoi was scolded by Uraraka and Tsyu quickly.

“You think he will ruin my life?” Deku pushed his face into the table and they all tried to cheer him up.

“No, no, of course not.” Uraraka shot a glare at the duo haired boy who shrugged and tried to reason.

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” Todoroki said to redeem himself.

“We are all here to support you no matter what!” Iida chimed in.

Deku was thankful to have such great friends and turned his head and found the blond at his own table yelling at Kirishima for something minor.

“He’s just so dreamy.” Deku panicked as he watched the blonds fists exploded as they connected with the table.

“Yeah he sure is.” Tsyu said with a short tone and Uraraka let out a giggle.

They all finished their lunch and helped him prepare his speech.

“Go get him tiger!” Uraraka cheered as the bell rang and they all headed to their next class which coincidentally had Bakugou and Deku working in a pair.

Deku let out a small wave as they parted to their respectful locker rooms. Inside his stomach began to twist knowing that in a few minutes, his confession would be made known.

In the locker room, all the boys were putting on their hero costumes and messing around. In the corner Deku went over his lines one more time but knew that a long speech probably wouldn’t go as planned. The bell rang and the boys walked to the center of the field, Deku never taking his eyes off of the guy who had his heart.

“For today's exercise we are going to do pair fighting. You and your partner will dispatch into the makeshift city or forest and anything you find a team, you battle them. Remember to try and keep them quick and simple, work on kill shots and heavy hitting moves. The team to take out the most pairs or has the best moves will get extra credit on their next exam. When the whistle blows make your way out and find a place, then when the bell chimes, your free to go.” Mr Aizawa spoke as he took a spot on the bench and stat down. The whistle came to his lips and her blew.

“To the fucking forest Deku.” Bakugou said. He was thankful that Bakugou referred to him mostly as Deku and nothing else. After three years and their last year at U.A, their relationship chemistry had softened and rivals wasn’t really what they were any more. More like acquaintances but Deku dreamed they would become more towards the end of graduation.  

“Yeah okay.” Deku responded and followed the blond. He kept his eye on his back as they walked for a few minutes, his mind escaping to all the outcomes of his confession.

“If we go out here, there's gonna be less chance for an ambush. We can make our way behind the buildings and to the city, plus the pond is where Frog legs and Half n Half are probably at.” Bakugou rambled but Deku couldn't be more unfocused.

Soon he collided with a hard surface which happens to be Bakugou's back.

“Are you paying attention Deku?” Bakugou spat, his red eyes beaming into the green of Dekus.

“Oh yeah forest, pond, city. Got it.” He repeated.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows but left it alone as the bell sounded.

“Lets go!” Bakugou yelled and they both took off running towards the pond.

As pace picked up Deku tried to find the perfect moment to tell him. He needed it to be just the two of them or else he might regret doing it in front of their classmates, he knew the gossip would be a landmine for the class, especially Mina.

The pair approached the edge of the pond and hide behind the rocks of the small waterfall. In the distance was Tsyu and Todoroki. They definitely had the advantage with the water and Deku then questioned why Bakugou would even want to put themselves in this position.

“Fuck that icyhot bastard.”

“Spite.” Deku whispered with realization. The only way to beat them is to catch them off guard.

However their plans were disrupted as a battle broke out between Todoroki, Tsyu, Hagakure and Sero.

Perfect. This was good enough for Deku. As the other teams dueled it out, it was time for the big reveal.

“Hey Bakugou.” He said quietly and the blond turned to him with his usual scowl.

“What?” He spat but it wasn’t harsh.

“I was wondering if you wanted to maybe study or get coffee sometime?” His breathing hitched as Bakugou raised a brow.

“Didn’t we fucking get shit yesterday?”

Deku’s eyes widened and he shook his hands before scuffling out a laugh.

“Well yeah but that was with all our friends...I was thinking just the two of us.” He continued. “Like a date.”

In that moment Bakugou's eyes enlarged and his lips tightened into a thin line. He looked like he was processing the request over and over again.

Deku waited for a response but then heard a crash in the water. The pair snapped their heads at the four of them and saw that Sero had been thrown by Froppy.

“Now!” Bakugou yelled as he ignored the question at hand and jumped onto the scene.

Deku followed in suit and caught the four on the surprise attack. Quickly they manage to take them down and head to the city. The question still loomed overhead and he felt a little bad that he corrupted his thoughts when they were in training.

More fights around the city came about and Bakugou blew up a car when Momo and Denki were announced the winners.

“Wow congrats you two!” Uraraka beamed and the rest of them filed in to complement the pair.

“Yeah dude you really need the boost.” Kirishima laughed and then received a punch from Denki.

Deku smiled at his friends but turned to see Bakugou stomping towards the locker room. He quickly left the group and caught up with him.

“Bakugou?” He asked hesitantly but he made no motion to stop.

“Not now.” He ended the conversation by walking in and only appearing for dinner but even then Deku didn’t have a chance to say anything more.

“So he said no?” Uraraka asked as she sat on Dekus bed.

Spinning in his swivel chair, Deku sighed. “Well he didn’t say no exactly but the mood definitely wasn’t pleasant. I just hope I didn’t ruin anything between us.

She was unsure of how to comfort him because Bakugou wasn’t the type to open up easily. “I can ask Kirishima-”

“No its fine, lets just leave it alone.”

Uraraka nodded before turning on an action movie starring All Might. She could tell he was putting on a brave face but teenage heartbreak was on the list of worst feelings in the world.

--- Two days had passed by since his confession or date invitation. Bakugou hadn’t responded to Deku and even Kirishima wasn’t told about what had happened. This was pure torture for Deku. He spends his days in class staring at the back of the blondes head, waiting for him to turn around and answer him, but it was no use.

And he had enough. After class had ended for the day, Deku caught Bakugou walking towards the locker room. Making sure that no one else was around, he locked the door trapping them both in.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bakugou snapped as the door shut.

“I want my answer, it's been two days.” Deku said boldly but not leaving his space. The angered expression didn’t leave Bakugou's face as he stood silently.

Deku let out a huff before hugging his arms around his body. He tried not to let any tears gather in his eyes. He couldn’t cry in front of his crush, especially not at a time like this.

“Look Bakugou, if you didn’t want to go on a date all you had to say was no. It's okay.” Deku shrugged but even his eyes couldn’t hide his heartbreak. “I would have understood.”

“It wasn’t a no.”

Deku blinked. Not sure if he heard him correctly, looked around the room then focused on Bakugou. “Then why-”

“Because I'm a broken person!” He yelled as his fists sparked at his sides. “And don’t give me any bullshit about how im not and im a great guy cause its not gonna fucking work.”

“Bakugou, I-”

An explosion sent out from his palms and hit one of the lockers. At that moment neither of them cared. Bakugou was a mess. His mind was racing it almost hurt to think, he felt like Denki in that moment.

“I don’t fucking get it Izuku. Why on earth would you even want to be with someone like me? I was an asshole to you. Why don’t you run to icy hot, round cheeks or anyone else who is worth a damn?” He sighed and plopped onto one of the benches.

Deku stood wondering what to do. A small smile formed on his face as a fond memory came to him.

“When I was a kid I had a music box.”

“What the fuck?”

“Just listen please.” He said and Bakugou shrugged and let him continue. “This music box was my favorite thing, also the only non All Might thing I owned. It was supposed to play a little melody and when you opened the top, a small ballerina danced around.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked watching the boy ramble on.

“When my mom gave me it, the music skipped and cracked in certain places. It didn’t even sound quite right and even the girl would only turn a few times before standing still. But even after my mom asked if I wanted her to fix it or buy me a new one, I refused. Its shaky music and still ballerina was perfect in my eyes, no matter how broken or damaged it was.”

He remained silent as Deku took a seat next to him.

“Katsuki, I know that you weren’t the greatest friend in the past and sure you weren’t the easiest to get along with, but no matter how harsh you could be to the world, I always saw the golden light you beamed with. Sometimes even the best things are broken, but that doesn’t mean they are any less beautiful.”

The confession took Bakugou by surprise. It wasn’t a simple “hey I like you.” or “ You’re hot so we should date.” Instead it was more of a “I like you, even with your flaws.” A warm fuzzy feeling went into his chest and he hated it but craved it more.

“Alright fine!” He said.

“So you’ll go on a date with me?” Deku asked, his voice rising several octaves due to his excitement.

“Yeah, yeah i’ll go on one with you. Your ass better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Deku replied before walking towards the door. He unlocked it and pushed on the handle before he was turned around and pressed against the door.

Soon his eyes met with crimson ones that were extremely close and he could feel their noses touching. His eyes closed as Bakugou leaned and pressed their lips together quick and fast.

“I like you too...Izuku.” Bakugou said as his eyes went to anywhere except for the blushing boy he just kissed.

“See you later Bakugou, have fun training.” Deku said as his heart pounded fast in his chest.

“Katsuki.” He heard as he pushed the door open.

As soon as the door shut, Deku raced to find Uraraka. He saw her walking with Todoroki and basically slammed her into the ground.

“HE SAID YES!” He cheered and then helped her up. His body was shaking from excitement and he was still on the high if the kiss.

“So you have a date?” She asked and he nodded quickly before racing off.

“Young love.” Todoroki said as they watched their friend run off to who knows where. --- A knock came from the other side of Dekus door. He called the person on the other side to just come in and the door opened to reveal a date ready Bakugou.

“You ready yet?” He asked and watched as Deku ran around trying to get all the last minute things together like his shoes and socks.

“Mm hmm. Oh crap! I forgot that Mina as my tie, I'll be right back!” He said but was already running out the door towards the girls dorms.

Bakugou didn’t have time to yell at him for running late so he just looked around his room. Of course everything was All Might themed and inside he was losing his mind at all the cool stuff. He turned to see something on his desk.

It was a small wooden box that had many scratches. On the back was a key to turn and since his curiosity got the best of him, he did. He then opened the top and realized that the small ballerina in front of him was the one he talked about during his confession. He was right when he said that she did not spin correctly and the song wasn’t as pleasant to listen too.

It mesmerized him. It was broken and damaged, yet he still liked it. He thought that maybe he wasn’t as bad as people said he was. Maybe he was that ballerina, always turning to the music but get stuck sometimes.

He set the box down as he heard footsteps coming closer. Deku appeared with his tie on and apologized for his lateness. Shrugging Bakugou passed him and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thats alright, let go before a long fucking line shows.”

Izuku nodded and grabbed the handle of the door, he noticed that his music box was moved but didn’t say anything about it. He caught up with Katsuki and they held hands as they walked to the restaurant.

“Still beautiful.” Deku thought to himself.

----

sooo I hope you liked it. 

[vortexofentertainment]

5. The Climb - Ours Are the Same

“Come on, Nicole!” Waverly called out as Nicole trudged up the path behind her.

“I’m right behind you,” Nicole called back as she pushed on.

Nicole was struggling a bit. She was used to hiking, but usually in the cold of Purgatory. The heat was unbearable, and she definitely wasn’t as used to it.

But she hiked on behind Waverly in her spandex bottoms and her cutoff tank top that she had tied up so that her stomach (more like abs, Nicole had observed) was visible. Her hair was braided into pigtails, but she had a black hat on as well. Honestly, Nicole had never seen her look so cute. She was finding that she was attracted to every form of Waverly.

Waverly stopped just up ahead to look out over what Nicole was convinced to be a small mountain. She stopped beside the brunette, rested her hands on her hips as she took deep breaths.

“I thought I was in better shape than this,” Nicole huffed as she looked out at the scenery.

“Trust me, babe, you’re in great shape,” Waverly replied. Nicole looked over at her with a slight grin to see the blush on Waverly’s cheeks. Or maybe it was just from the heat.

Nicole had never been one for pet names. She used to even go as far as to say they were gag-worthy and annoying. She realized now that maybe, just maybe, it was because the right person wasn’t calling her those names.

When Waverly called her cutie, or babe, or sweetie, or whatever other name popped into her head, it made Nicole all warm and fuzzy inside. She had even found herself responding with even more nauseating nicknames. She knew that if she wasn’t one of two in this relationship, she would probably be sickened by the way she and Waverly spoke to one another.

But she was, and she was happy. With Waverly, she could be herself. There was no guarding her innermost demons or desires. She felt like she could be free and be who she always wanted to be. It was exciting and damn near too good to be true.

“Come on, let’s set up the picnic over there.” Waverly practically skipped to a little opening of the trees that seemed just perfect for a picnic.

Nicole took one last look at the view before following suit. She took her backpack off and sat it on the ground next to a nearby tree.

She pulled out the red and white checked blanket. When Waverly had produced it earlier, she claimed it was “aesthetically pleasing” and that “it just made sense” to picnic on that type of blanket. Nicole couldn’t find it in her to question that reasoning. Plus, she thought it was kind of cute that Waverly was that much of a planner.

She shook the blanket out and placed it on the ground between her and Waverly.

“Okay, so I packed lots of fruits and veggies,” Waverly said as she dropped down to her knees on the blanket. She swung her backpack around in front of her.

Waverly had also decided that she would be carrying the backpack with food in it while Nicole’s consisted of the blanket and first aid kit. Again, Nicole didn’t question her reasoning and just went with it.

Waverly sat out all the food she had. There were strawberries, grapes, sliced apples, and peaches. Then on the vegetable side, she had cherry tomatoes, pickles, and broccoli. It looked like a pretty nice spread, except for the pickles. Nicole hated pickles.

Nicole watched as Waverly sat everything out perfectly and then pulled out two more reusable water bottles. Nicole adored how committed Waverly was to her own cause.

She hadn’t met many people that truly stuck to their morals the way Waverly does. She never seemed to hesitate to do the right thing when it came to people or the environment. Waverly was truly an angel and Nicole couldn’t imagine her being anything other than who she truly was.

“I hope this is all okay,” Waverly finally said when she looked up at Nicole. A glimmer of doubt passed through her eyes.

“It’s perfect,” Nicole smiled as she settled down on the blanket right next to Waverly.

The soft smile that covered Waverly’s lips made Nicole’s heart race. She leaned forward, unable to help herself, and kissed her. It was a short kiss, sweet and simple, but Nicole wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Perfect,” Waverly repeated. She shifted onto her bottom, crossing her legs, and taking a pickle from the jar.

Nicole immediately reached for a strawberry. She let her legs stretch out to get comfy.

It really couldn’t get better than this, Nicole thought. It was all of her favorite things: nature, food, and Waverly.

Nicole could remember being little and imaging going on a picnic with the perfect girl. When she used to think about it, there was just a faceless person beside her. That’s how it was with all of her dreams. With every passing moment spent with Waverly, though, that blank face was starting to be filled in.

It was all happening so fast. Too fast, some would say. Stereotypically fast, others would argue. She was jumping off a cliff head first with no reassurance of being caught. It was a chance she was willing to take for the happiness she had felt over the last couple of days.

They felt like a lifetime really. It was like this piece was missing from her life that she didn’t even realize until Waverly fit perfectly in it.

“How is it...” Waverly said, breaking the silence they had fallen into. “...that we just hiked miles in the blistering heat and you still smell like vanilla dipped donuts?”

“I smell like vanilla dipped donuts?” Nicole asked with a grin.

Waverly looked up to meet her stare. “Yeah, they’re my favorite, too.”

Nicole laughed. She leaned back until all of her weight was on her hands. She over at Waverly. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just naturally vanilla donut-y.”

Waverly smiled, looking at Nicole in a way that no one had ever looked at her. It was like she could see right into Nicole’s soul.

“Here,” Waverly said, grabbing another strawberry and offering it to Nicole.

Nicole took a bite, then watched Waverly finish it off herself. Nicole couldn’t kid herself. It did something to her to see Waverly do that.

She tossed the stem back into the container and turned back to Nicole. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against Nicole’s. Nicole could taste the fresh strawberry. It added a whole new level of sweetness to Waverly.

Without losing contact, Waverly shifted until she was straddling Nicole’s hips and cradling her face. Nicole was in a trance. The outside world dissolved around her and all she could focus on was Waverly in her lap.

Not only was she in her lap, but she had deepened the kiss. Nicole let Waverly’s tongue slip past her lips easily and tangle with her own. She failed at suppressing the moan it pulled out of her.

Her hands were too far away, so she sat up straighter, bringing her body flush against Waverly’s. She let her hands wander to Waverly’s hip, settling there and gripping tightly at the loose fabric of her shirt.

Nicole’s entire body was humming. She knew damn well they were in public and anyone could walk by at any time. The rush only added to the intensity of the kiss.

She secretly loved the constant feel of need when it came to a new relationship. The want to explore and get to know each other was intoxicating. Discovering new things about one another that only a select few have found out before was thrilling. It was exciting. It was new. It was a rush.

Waverly slowed the kiss down first, finishing it by placing the smallest little kiss on Nicole’s nose and resting her forehead against hers. She was breathing heavy, eyes closed, and almost a look of pain was creasing her face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Nicole asked. She ran her hand up Waverly’s spine and back down in an attempt to comfort her. She needed to know what happened so that she could fix it. She had to make it better.

“I’m going to miss you, you know,” Waverly said quietly as she leaned back from Nicole. She finally opened her eyes.

Nicole reached up and tucked some loose hair between Waverly’s ear and the cap to get it to stay.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Nicole answered, pressing her forehead against Waverly’s again. She connected their lips once more for a long, sweet kiss. “That just means we’ll have to visit each or and FaceTime constantly,” she smiled. She was trying to lighten the mood the best she could. She hated to see Waverly upset.

“I guess I’ll have to come back to Purgatory,” Waverly half-smiled. There was something else there. Something she was holding back.

“Is that okay?” Nicole asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t want to make Waverly uncomfortable in any way, and if that meant meeting outside of Purgatory then she would do it as often as she could.

Waverly looked down at where her hands were on Nicole’s stomach. “Yeah, totally,” she nodded. Her voice was a bit too high pitched for Nicole to believe her.

“Waves,” Nicole said soundly. “Talk to me.”

Waverly removed herself from Nicole’s lap. Nicole watched as she laid back on the blanket with her knees bent. Nicole laid down beside her, body facing Waverly and her head propped up on her hand so that she could properly look at her.

“It’s no secret we haven’t really been back much since we left,” Waverly started. She kept her eyes trained on the blue sky above them. “I grew up with my Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis. Wynonna left as soon as she could. She really went through some shit after everything that happened to daddy and Willa. Did you know they put her in a mental hospital?”

“No,” Nicole answered truthfully. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, they never really talked about it around me and she’s not exactly the most open about it,” Waverly went on. “As soon as she got out, she left. We kept in touch and as soon as I turned eighteen, I was right there with her. I love Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis. They did the best they could and helped send me to college., but I wanted to be with Wynonna. She had already started to make a life for herself. We never in a million years thought that we would end up where we are now.”

“You’re doing pretty good for yourselves,” Nicole smiled.

“Yeah, Daddy would hate it though,” Waverly mumbled. She closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands as she exhaled.

Nicole didn’t want to pry. She knew what it was like to have parents that don’t particularly care for you as they should. Whether it be physically, emotionally, or mentally. It can take a huge toll on someone.

“You know he never really treated me like part of the family,” Waverly said as she dropped her hands to her stomach. “Momma left when I was little. So it was just us three girls with good ole Ward. He hated me. Willa was his pride and joy. He wanted her to be just like him when she grew up. Wynonna got by. She managed to stop some of the…” Waverly paused. “…the, um, disciplines Daddy chose for me.”

A flame of hate ignited within Nicole. She couldn’t imagine anyone being that horrible to a sweet, little Waverly.

“The people who killed him took Willa, too. They came to the house and all hell broke loose.” Waverly exhaled. A stray tear rolled down her temple and landed on the blanket beneath her. “We never found her. Everyone just assumed she was dead. We had a funeral for both of them at the same time. Willa’s casket was full of sandbags and Daddy’s had… well, Daddy in it.” Waverly sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Nicole sat up too, wrapping her arm around Waverly’s shoulder and pulling her close. She placed a kiss on the side of Waverly’s head.

“I was six and all I remember is that they let me eat whatever I wanted. I got so sick that night.” She exhaled in a weak attempt at a laugh. “But watching Wynonna go through what she had to go through…”

Nicole could see the next words physically lodge themselves in Waverly’s throat. Her mouth was open, but no words were coming out. Just more tears running down her cheeks. She finally closed her mouth and looked up in an attempt to make them stop.

It broke Nicole’s heart all over again. It was then and there that she decided that she would do anything to make sure she never saw that kind of hurt on Waverly’s face again. She would go to the ends of the earth to ensure her happiness.

Nicole was very protective of the ones she loved. Even the ones she particularly didn’t. She was a police officer after all. It was kind of in her job description to serve and protect.

But this was more. The feeling she had to protect Waverly was more than a duty or instinct. It was in her bones. It was something that was already rooted so deep inside of her. Waverly’s smile was her favorite thing. Seeing it replaced with tears and hurt and a quivering chin was unacceptable.

“Sorry,” Waverly sniffled as she wiped her own face.

“Never apologize, baby,” Nicole reminded her. She pressed her lips to the side of Waverly’s head again. “Never,” she repeated quietly.

Waverly relaxed into her body, letting her hand fall on Nicole’s thigh as she turned her head into the kiss.

“What about you?” Waverly asked as she sat back up. “How are your parents?”

Nicole laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Her parents were not exactly what she thought Waverly was imagining.

“Conservative assholes that barely acknowledge my existence since I came out,” Nicole told her. A pang of hurt stabbed her heart, but only briefly. “It’s okay,” she reassured Waverly, or maybe herself. “I’ve dealt with that baggage and moved on.”

“It still can’t be easy,” Waverly said. She reached over and took Nicole’s hand. “I mean, they’re your parents.”

“Yeah, but they’re pretty toxic,” Nicole said. She looked down at the way Waverly was playing with her fingers. She would slide Nicole’s index ring off and then on again. It was comforting. “I learned at a young age that just because you’re related by blood doesn’t necessarily mean you have to keep those people in your life.”

Waverly stayed quiet.

“When I was younger, they would drag me to church every Sunday,” Nicole recalled. “But I would sneak out and smoke cigarettes around back. I knew I didn’t belong there. I wasn’t accepted there, but they made me go anyway.”

“You smoked cigarettes?” Waverly asked with a small, but shocked, grin on her face.

“I did,” Nicole laughed. “I was, um…” she trailed off. She didn’t want to go too much into details about her teenage years. This conversation had already been heavy enough. “I was dealing with some shit and going through a phase. Lesbianism just wasn’t one of them and my mom really didn’t like that.”

“She sounds lovely,” Waverly said sarcastically. It made Nicole laugh again.

“Imagine Bunny Loblaw, but with red hair.”

“Oh god!” Waverly gasped. “That’s horrible.”

Nicole just nodded but kept the smile on her lips. It seemed to ease the pain of her past. If she acted like she didn’t care, then maybe she wouldn’t in the long run. She had a better life without them in it.

She never wanted them to meet Waverly. That was for sure. She could just see the disapproving look her mother would give her and Nicole did not want to put Waverly through that. It was a special kind of hell.

“I’m so sorry you have to put up with that.”

“I really don’t anymore,” Nicole answered. “I don’t talk to them and they don’t talk to me. It’s a pretty sweet deal,” she half joked.

Waverly shook her head in disbelief. Nicole knew how important family was to Waverly, and it was important to her too. Just, not the toxic family members that wholeheartedly denied everything that she was. She had found her family and her people and she felt more love from them than she ever did her blood relatives.

Waverly made herself comfortable in Nicole’s arms again. Nicole held her close until Waverly’s phone dinged beside her.

Waverly huffed before reaching over to see who it was.

“Oh,” she mumbled as she read the text on her screen.

“What is it?” Nicole asked as she grabbed another strawberry.

“Wynonna wants us to go out with her and Doc tomorrow night for drinks.”

“Oh,” Nicole exhaled, much like how Waverly had.

“We totally don’t have to. I know it’s your last night and everything so–”

“No, I want to,” Nicole nodded. She smiled to reassure Waverly even though her stomach was twisted in knots all of a sudden. “It should be fun, right?”

“That's one word for it,” Waverly nodded. “Nicole, you really don’t have to.”

“I know,” Nicole chuckled. She leaned forward and grabbed a grape this time. “But I really do want to.” She popped the grape in her mouth, giving Waverly a close-lipped smile as she chewed.

She could see the happiness back on Waverly’s face. Nicole knew how important Wynonna was to her. If she didn’t before, she sure does now after what Waverly had just recounted about their past.

“It’s a date,” Waverly smiled as she hit send on the text back to Wynonna agreeing to go out tomorrow night. She looked over at Nicole, a content small smile on her lips.

Her whole demeanor was completely different. She was sitting up a little taller, her legs were stretched out in front of her, and her face was relaxed. Her eyes were still tinged red, but they had that happy glow back inside of them.

“Come on, we should start heading back,” Waverly said as she got up from the blanket. She reached down and pulled Nicole up with her, pecking her on the lips before Nicole could fully stand up.

They cleaned everything up, redistributing the food between them because Nicole insisted that she carry more this time, and started back down the trail.

There was a new dynamic between them. Waverly seemed… lighter. The way she was holding Nicole’s hand and swinging it between them, the way she was constantly informing Nicole of wilderness facts that Nicole already knew but pretended not to, it was all with less weight on her shoulders. It was as if a new door had opened between them.

Nicole was feeling pretty good about it, too. Even though she knew that in a couple of days it would all come to a screeching halt. She would go back to Purgatory and Waverly would go to the next con and they would have to do the long-distance thing for a while.

But they had technology on their side. It would suck, more than Nicole probably imagined, but they could do it. What she felt was real, and she was willing to go through it all to see where she and Waverly would end up. She would FaceTime, text, call, and do whatever she needed to do. It wouldn’t be the same, but it would be worth it.

“Oh my god,” Nicole heard an unfamiliar voice say from in front of them.

She hadn’t noticed that she was only really looking at the ground and over at Waverly as they strolled back through the wooded area.

When she looked up, she saw two girls in hiking gear. One was wearing a t-shirt from Waverly���s show and Nicole was immediately reminded that Waverly was kind of a big deal. It was easy to forget that other people felt that way about her too when they were together.

“We’re such huge fans,” the girl went on as she quickly approached Waverly.

Waverly dropped Nicole’s hand, putting on a wide smile to greet the fans.

The girl’s friend stayed back. She was clutching her backpack and quite frankly looked terrified. She locked eyes with Nicole for a split second before moving cautiously towards Waverly and her friend.

“Oh, thank you!” Waverly smiled as she looked at the two girls. “What’s your name?”

“Callie and this is Beth,” Callie spoke up. She looked back at Beth but didn’t seem to notice her level of discomfort.

Nicole noticed that Beth was actually gravitating towards her. She was a bit overwhelmed herself. Two complete strangers had just approached them in the middle of the woods. This was red flag city for Nicole, but it seemed absolutely normal for Waverly.

“Can we take a picture with you?” the girl asked, eyes full of hope.

“Of course!” Waverly nodded as she turned to look at Nicole. “Do you care to take it for us?”

“Not at all,” Nicole answered quickly.

Callie dug through her pocket, finally reaching her phone, but she paused as she extended her hand.

“Oh my god,” Callie seemed to exhale as she looked at Nicole.

Nicole did not like it. The way all the attention shifted towards her immediately made her uncomfortable. She slowly plucked the phone from the girls still outstretched hand.

Callie looked at Waverly, mouth wide, and a squeal of excitement escaping. “This is your girlfriend!”

Nicole’s heart fell into her stomach. She looked at Beth, who looked to be a little embarrassed by her friend’s bluntness, and then she looked at Waverly.

The question, or statement more like it, had definitely taken her off guard.

It had thrown Nicole, too. They hadn’t discussed labels or even talked about what they were to each other. Just that they were dating. Did that automatically make them girlfriends?

“Yes, well, um…” Waverly looked at Nicole and shrugged. “Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Nicole asked before she could stop herself.

“Let’s take the picture, yeah?” Beth finally spoke up. “We don’t want to keep them from… whatever it is they’re doing.” She grabbed her friend by the arm and drug her over to Waverly who stood between them and smiled.

Nicole snapped the picture, still a little thrown off by Waverly’s answer. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting. It was good, she guessed, that Waverly didn’t just assume. But a part of her really wanted to hear her say it.

“Thank you so much!” Callie said as she took her phone back from Nicole.

Just as quickly as they appeared, they said their goodbyes and continued on their way up the path.

Nicole stood, a little shocked at all that had just taken place. Waverly was watching her. Probably trying to gauge how Nicole would react to being called her "kind of" girlfriend.

The thing was, Nicole didn’t know how to react. She was a little hurt, but she wasn’t really sure whether or not she had a right to be.

“I didn’t really know what else to say,” Waverly finally spoke up as she took a step towards Nicole.

“No, it’s fine,” Nicole nodded. “The one was kind of… a lot.”

“She was just excited,” Waverly brushed it off.

“The ones in the elevator were much more civil,” Nicole tried to joke.

Waverly didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Are you mad?” Waverly asked, taking both of Nicole’s hands.

Nicole looked down at Waverly’s face. The feelings stirring up inside of her seemed to slip away a little bit as she took a deep breath.

“No,” she finally answered. For good measure, she placed a kiss on Waverly’s forehead. “Let’s go.”

The walk back was quieter. Once they made it to Waverly’s rental car, Nicole was itching for something to fill the silence.

As soon as Waverly got on the road, Nicole rolled her window down. She loved the feeling of the air rushing past. The way it blew her hair in crazy directions probably should have bothered her, but she loved it. It was freeing.

She reached out and turned the radio up as far as she could stand it. Waverly looked over at her, grinning a bit as Nicole let the music consume her.

Paradise City blared through the speakers as Nicole turned to completely face the window. The wind against her face calmed her thoughts and helped her breath. She tried to focus on the rest of the day. All the good parts. She didn’t want to let that girl’s question get to her.

She definitely wanted to make progress on Waverly’s answer before she left. “Kind of” just wasn’t going to cut it.

[dancingwithdylan21]

Hard and Fast

Summary: Dylan falls hard and fast for the reader who is auditioning for Teen Wolf.

Pairing: Dylan x Reader

Prompt: “Can you two flirt on your own time?”

~

You’re anxiously tapping your foot in a stuffy waiting room but it’s not just any waiting room. No. It’s only the gateway to the biggest fucking audition of your life. No pressure or anything.

You’re about to audition for a role on MTV’s Teen Wolf and the fact that it’s your favorite show makes this even more nerve racking. It’s a character named Kelsey who’s a new mysterious student in Beacon Hills and she will also be Stiles’ new love interest.

And this isn’t a small arc, the role is expected to last for an entire season. That kind of exposure would be insane and also a dream come true. Today is your second callback and you’ve heard that two of the leads with be present in the room with you.

Tyler is making his directorial debut and that’s when the character will make her first appearance. And Dylan will be reading with the small group of girls that made the cut so far including yourself.

“Y/N L/N!”

Shit. Here we go.

“You can do this. You can fucking do this.” You whisper confidently before walking through the heavy metal door. You enter a large, white plain looking room and you can feel your pulse instantly start to race.

Hm. There are only five people present including the two handsome actors. Dylan is standing off to the side chatting on his iPhone and Tyler is sitting in a director’s chair with his baseball cap pulled down low. And the other three are the show’s producers who all seem ready for a nap.

Good vibes. Ugh. You quickly introduce yourself and the part you’re reading for while facing the camera that’s setup in the room. You’re now standing around awkwardly as you wait for Dylan to finish his phone call.

Dylan barely glances in your direction but moves closer still with the phone to his ear. He finally pauses in front of you as he hangs up, making your heart immediately jump into your throat. The man is even better looking in person. You didn’t think that was possible.

“Hi! I’m Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.” You thankfully snap out of your slight fangirl moment, reminding yourself to get your shit together. Although Dylan looks strangely caught off guard and barely makes a sound when he holds out his hand. Kinda weird.

“Ok, people. Let’s do this.” Tyler quickly interrupts as he leans back in his wooden chair.

Dylan gives him a quick nod before turning back towards you. He suddenly freezes with an expression you can’t read before spinning the fuck around and bolting over to his co-star.

They are now both whispering and looking over at you while you do your best to act unaffected. But it’s making you feel self conscious as fuck at the moment. You notice Tyler give Dylan a stern look and it makes him rush back over to you.

“Everything ok?” You ask wearily.

“Oh. Uh…yup.” Dylan lies unconvincingly. Awesome.

“Let’s start at the top of page two. Stiles sneaks into the school library at night to research and loudly interrupts Kesley who’s already there.” He mumbles focusing on the floor instead of you.

“Ok.” You decide to just dive right into the role and forget the weirdness that’s happening right now.

“Can I help you, dude?” You dryly inquire acting annoyed towards “Stiles”.

“Nope. I’m good.” Dylan delivers a strained smile before clearing his throat. “Sorry for the noise.”

“Yeah I came here for peace and quiet so...”

“I…uhh I…” Dylan stutters before breaking character and then he starts coughing. “I need…water.”

Dylan gives you a nervous smile before stomping towards the table where the producers are sitting. You’re officially fucking confused at this point and start to think that you’re the problem. He makes his way back to you wearing a shy smile.

“Do you want me to still read for this?“ You ask carefully. “If you’re not feeling it then I can leave.”

“No!” Dylan all but yells catching everyone’s attention. A cute shade of pink appears on his cheeks and Tyler can’t help but crack up laughing.

“Sorry, Y/N. Dyl thinks your hot. He’s not very smooth around girls he likes.” Tyler smirks as his best friend’s mouth drops open.

“Oh.” It’s all your brain can think of at the moment because you’re beyond surprised.

But you recover quickly with a chuckle, “I didn’t picture you as the type who’s scared of girls.”

“Aw, shit!” Tyler exclaims clearly entertained by this whole train wreck.

“Can we try this again before I die of embarrassment please?” Dylan groans asking the room. Everyone nods and you can’t help but giggle at Dylan when he looks at you. He instantly runs a hand through his messy hair before taking a deep breath.

“Get your act together, O’Brien.” You hear him grumble to himself.

“Yeah O’Brien…you’re a god damn professional.” You whisper making him burst out laughing.

“Can you two flirt on your own time?” Tyler huffs sounding bored. Dylan gives him the finger before turning his attention back to you.

“Hopefully third time’s the charm.” He says with a more confident smile.

Thank god this scene goes a lot better than before and it gives you hope about actually landing this role. Sadly it ends too soon and you have to say your goodbyes.

You blush when you see Dylan give you a cute wave as he watches you leave the room. The distraction almost makes you walk right into the door jam and it makes Tyler cackle behind you.

“You two are such dorks, Dyl. She’s clearly the girl for you.” He howls as you rush out the door.

Do something lame in front of an insanely attractive actor? Check. You can cross that off your fucking bucket list.

“So what do you guys think?” Tyler questions everyone after they see the last girl who auditioned. He instinctively rolls his eyes already knowing what his co-star is about to say.

“I vote for Y/N L/N.” Dylan replies with a goofy grin.

“What a shock.”

“Dude! Y/N’s amazing. She’s gorgeous, funny, sweet, bad ass and talented! I’m pretty sure she’ll be my wife someday.”

“Jesus, Dylan. You sound like a twelve year old girl.”

“Whatever, man. I can’t help it. I’ve never met a girl like her before.” Dylan admits already looking love struck.

“Actually…you and Y/N did have good chemistry. Even if you weren’t fangirling over her, I’d probably choose her for the role.”

“Yes!” Dylan excitedly jumps up from his seat. “Who’s gonna call her? Can I call her? What’s her number?”

“Don’t make me regret this, dude. You’re already acting crazy.” Tyler warns trying to hide an amused smile. His best friend is such a dope.

“Crazy or not…I like her. And I think she likes me back.”

“Totally. She didn’t make fun of you for being scared of chicks or anything.”

Dylan shoots Tyler a classic bitch face and it makes him snicker, “Whatever! As long as you two film without eye banging each other. Especially when I’m directing.”

“No promises.” Dylan smirks knowingly.

~

Masterlist 

[mela-chronic]

Come On, Take my Hand

The club, more of a 1950s styled lounge, housed a dance floor teeming with goers of all ages. Elderly men were dragging women in the early 30s out onto the dance floor, young children were swinging on their parents by the finger, and couples were swaying back and forth in their own galaxies. Each cluster was chaotic, yet in balance, like planets gravitating near each other. 

“So, we’re only here to gather information, Lieutenant?” Connor adjusted the lapels of his blazer; a smooth shade of chocolate brown, pulled together with a dark brown tie. The light cream of his dress shirt paired well with the darker undertones of his ensemble. He looked to Hank, waiting for a response as he watched the bartender prepare a cocktail. 

Hank leaned back against the bar, his weight constantly shifting against the plump leather seat of the bar stool. Somewhat disheveled in comparison to Connor, Hank’s suit was a midnight blue. His blazer was left unbuttoned, and his grey dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top. The dark blue fedora helped lift the outfit just enough for a formal gathering place such as this. “Yeah. The owner croaked under some shift circumstances, but an Android was seen leaving the club about 5 minutes after.”

Cursing under his breath, Hank tore of his fedora and tossed it onto the bar stand. The bartender peered up, and took a quick look between Hank and Connor. “How may I help you gentleman tonight?” He flashed a quick smile as he set down two cocktail napkins. Connor sat up straight, his hand balled up in a fist as it lightly tapped against the table. 

“Let’s see, Lieutenant Anderson will have a double whiskey on the rocks, please.” Connor looked over at Hank nervously. The tension in his face disappeared once Hank nodded slightly. 

“I’ll have that right up for ya.” The bartender grabbed a short glass, dropping two large ice cubes as he sped over to the other end of the bar. 

“You paying for me now?” Hank looked over at Connor with a smirk. The band was playing an energetic, and bombastic cover of “Great Balls of Fire,” a song from an era long gone that both Hank and Connor have no memory of. It didn’t stop Connor from trying to mouth the lyrics of the song, however. 

“Connor, you deaf or somethin’?” Hank tapped him on the shoulder. Physical contact was unusual for him; Hank was never one to break the touch barrier, but here is with a  Connor spun around, caught off guard by the touch. His eyes were wide, the light hung like small stars in his pupils. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was watching the dancers. What was your question, Lieutenant?” Before Hank could answer, Connor spun around to face the bartender as he made his way back to them. 

The bartender gently placed the glass on the napkin adjacent to Hank. “Enjoy. Let me know if I can get you gentleman anything else.” He winked at Connor, a gesture which warranted a bitter scowl from Hank. 

Connor looked back at Hank after quickly letting out a “thank you.” “What was your question, Lieutenant?” 

Hank downed his drink, slamming it against the wood. He let the whiskey burn his throat; it lingered on his esophagus, the alcohol blistering on contact. Fucking lover boy.

The atmosphere became heavy, an invisible pressure weighing down on them both. Connor, confused, pressed on. “I think we should try asking the bartender about the work schedules of the employees. I believe he has an idea of how the Androids of this establishment operate.” 

Hank only acknowledged Connor’s suggestion with a grunt, and a quick lift of his finger. Seemingly aware of Hank’s attitude, Connor promptly stood up while buttoning his blazer, and then walked over to the other end of the bar. There was a tinge of hopelessness in the way Hank watched him walk. His eyes rested on his shoulders, balanced and steady as he swayed from side to side with each step he took. Anger clouded his mind. He’s doing the right thing. Why the fuck am I pissed? 

Watching the way Connor spoke so properly, with a straight back and perfect eye contact, laid a burning lump of coal in Hank’s chest. The bartender was similarly charismatic; a dazzling smile constantly on his lips, his hands busy as they expertly polished a scotch glass. God, hurry up. 

Maybe Hank wouldn’t have launched into a frenzy, had the bartender not touch Connor’s hand with the flirtatious caress of a doe eyed waif. If it were anything else, maybe even another wink, Hank would’ve allowed the animosity to fester before even thinking about reaching for Connor’s arm. But here was, stomping over to Connor much to the fear of the bartender. He took a step back as he watched Connor turn to Hank, his smile fading into shock as his arm was taken into Hank’s hand. 

“Lieutenant, what seems to be the problem? I’m still question-”

“Change of plans. Uh, come over here with me. Need you for something.” 

Connor didn’t protest, he simply allowed himself to be guided towards the dance floor by Hank. The band was joyous, and booming in their carefully coordinated suits. They looked like a picturesque, rat pack group of soldiers ready to take the world with synchronized sashays. Lights, ranging between bold rays of yellow and diffused beams of white, painted the dance floor. 

“What are we here for, Lieutenant? I was gathering vital information from that bartender.” 

Shame, and embarrassment swatted Hank’s judgement back and forth like a game of tennis. His thoughts wavered, skipping back and forth, unable to settle on one place. The music was booming, deafening Hank as he tried to make a snap decision. It became a challenge when Connor kept staring at him, waiting patiently for a response.  

“Lieutenant?” Connor reached out to Hank. “Is.. something the matter?” 

For once, Hank was scared. “Yeah, yeah there’s something wrong.” 

“Well, what is it? You can tell me.” 

Here goes the dive, the jump into infinity. Here goes nothing, I guess. “I.. didn’t wanna keep wasting time on the bartender. I was thinking we could, um..” Hank looked out onto the dance floor as he fixed his blazer. He could feel whiskey stains building on the wool. “I was thinking we could try blending in. Staying at the bar all night makes us look like cops, not clients.” Seriously, Anderson? 

For a second, Connor blinked, then he nodded as his eyes creased with sudden elation. “I understand now. You make a good point.” Before Hank could answer, Connor already had his hand on Hank’s. His heart was racing, jumping and beating at undetectable speeds as he watched Connor lead him to the dance floor. To Hank, he thought he caught a glimpse of what was nervousness in Connor’s eyes as he turned back to smile at him. The sea of people began to part, not paying attention to the two men who were too hesitant and stupid to get over their own pride. 

“So, what now, Lieutenant?” Connor mustered a coy smile, a physical action that he handled with the clumsy grace of a child. Tense, his hands started to find their way into Hank’s; at first resistant, but more scared than anything, Hank’s fingers began to mold to the shape of Connor’s palm. 

“I-I don’t think we need to dance-” Hank’s voice caught in his throat. He tried to shake his head to dispel the illusion; too bad it was reality. 

“Then why are we here, on the dance floor?” 

Shit. “You’re busting my balls, Connor.” He took Connor, his hand against the small of his back as he drew him in. Connor’s eyes widened with disbelief, surprised by the proximity. Were Hank’s eyes always that blue, and did he always look so vulnerable? Was he always this confident? Because Connor’s never seen him smile the way he did until now. The music shifted to something slow, a perfect tune befitting a lovers’ first dance. “I Only Have Eyes For You,” was delivered with the silvery baritone of a singer who was certainly enjoying his night. With a gentle lilt, the piano keys coaxed couples to the floor; the harmonized vocals of the back up singers were like a hypnotic hymn. 

They’ve looked at each other so many times before, but why is it that now was so new, and different? Hank barely drank, Connor definitely had nothing, so why did Connor feel himself settle into Hank’s arms as the night went on? Hank, despite his steps being like a drunken horse, felt like a strong partner as he led Connor to the siren allure of tonight’s entertainment. Nothing needed to be said; several months’ worth of secrets, hidden declarations, disregarded feelings were spilling out between them both as they stared into each other’s eyes. They could hardly keep eye contact for long to even carry on a conversation. Then, Connor found the courage to rest his head against Hank’s shoulder; his hand rested against his back as they swayed. 

Hank grinned as he whispered to Connor. “You think this is a decent front?”

Connor breathed him in, sighing against Hank’s blazer. “Yes, I would say it’s more than decent, Hank.” 

Heh, looks like I did something right. Hank didn’t need to do much, because his entire existence was effortless perfection for Connor. As the music swelled, Hank and Connor looked up at each other; they held their eye contact for longer than a minute this time, gauging the distance between their lips before closing the gap. When two people acknowledge their shared affections, you get the type of sheer love and commitment that was radiating off of them right this second. Like two celestial bodies in the light, they moved as a single unit as they weaved a picture of complete happiness through the lounge. 

My works

[smol-warden]

Hell is Empty chapter 2

Chapter 2 is live! Read it on AO3 here or continue reading below the cut

Word count: 3333

The light snow flurry from earlier had turned into a proper snow shower, further blanketing the area in soft white. A herd of druffalo wandered the hills snuffling under the snow as they foraged for food. Inha watched them for a moment before returning her attention to Varric. The serenity of the atmosphere was a foil to the turmoil churning inside her.

“Okay, so, fuck,” Inha breathed out a sigh and ran her hands through her hair. Her thoughts were jumbled word garbage and her brain couldn’t make sense of them. She breathed in filling her lungs until her chest hurt and reset.

“I spend a lot of time in Orzammar, and around lyrium, so has my family; we may have been exiled but we never actually left.” Inha didn’t try to stop the prideful smirk that tugged at her lips. “While my Stone sense isn’t nearly as strong as dwarva that never leave the city, I still have it.”

Varric arched his eyebrow in a quizzical manner. “I’m failing to understand what that has to do with why you ran out here.”

“Right,” Inha rocked back on her feet and brought her hands together in front of her stomach, toying with her fingers. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and took a deep breath.

“Well, lyrium sings to me and red lyrium is still lyrium so even though it’s not as clear as regular lyrium it sings too and what brought me out here was the tainted call of red lyrium except it was diluted as if it was mixed with something else, but it disappeared as quickly as it came it was something I’ve never felt before, I have no idea what it was.” Her words poured out of her in one long rambling sentence.

Varric’s eyes widened as she spoke. By the time she was done she could see her own surprise reflected in his gaze. Heavy silence enveloped the two dwarves interrupted only by Inha’s ragged breathing. She could feel her heartbeat in her chest and the warmth rising to her cheeks. The sound of her blood rushing in her ears was deafening.

Could she really trust Varric? Would he try to use her for his own gain or would he think she was two nugs short of a litter? Her instinct told her he was harmless but her experiences argued otherwise. She wanted to tear her gaze away from his but she was unable; all she could do was hope he wouldn’t notice her panic. They stood there for what seemed like ages before Varric answered with a whistle.

“You can hear red lyrium? What are the odds?”

Inha hung off the edge of each of his words searching for any malice or ill-intent in them. All she heard was surprise and perhaps admiration. If Varric meant any harm she couldn’t tell.

“You probably shouldn’t tell Cassandra,” he continued, “or she’ll try to use you as some kind of lyrium seeking hound.” He shook his head causing the snow that accumulated there to fall around him.

Inha lifted her hand and waved her glowing scar in Varric’s face, “I’m already her magical demon slaying bitch, what’s one more task? I’m pretty used to being passed around by the Carta.” Inha winced at her own words, they sounded harsher than she meant them.

“Hey,” Varric took her hand and guided it out of his face, “you’re not some thing that just gets tossed from person to person. You’re more than that.”

The sincerity in Varric’s voice caught her off guard and she snapped her hand away from his. He had known her for less than a day and had already accepted her without question. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and cast her eyes down. When she tried to thank him a gust of frigid wind tore across the lake cutting through her. She closed her eyes and tensed from the cold.

“Are you okay?!” Varric shouted at her but his voice sounded miles away.

When she opened her eyes white spots danced across her vision obscuring her field of view. She squeezed her eyes shut then blinked a few times before looking around. The world was fuzzy around the edges and as it came back into focus she was met with Varric looming over her. She was lying on the ground, covered in snow and soaked to the bone. Varric was kneeling beside her with one hand gripping her shoulder, his face contorted with worry.

“What happened?” Inha lifted a hand to rest on her throbbing forehead as she spoke.

“I’m pretty certain I’m supposed to be the one asking that question,” he offered her a smile. “I’m no doctor but my guess is that you fainted for a couple minutes. Your eyes rolled back and everything. Let me help you up.”

Varric stood and extended his hand out to her which she leaned up to accept. Her limbs felt like pudding, it was as if every bone in her body had been replaced with rubber as she grasped his wrist. Disconnected from her legs she struggled to push herself off the ground. She gathered her strength and with Varric’s help they managed to get her upright.

She released her vicelike grip from Varric’s wrist and pushed out a shaky breath. Inha paused for a second to test her balance shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She didn’t trust her stability yet but she took a cautious step forward. Her knees buckled under her once more throwing her off balance and sending her face first back towards the ground. She reached out to catch herself and her fingers tangled in the fabric of Varric’s clothes as she fell into him with a soft thud.

“Throwing yourself at me already, Pumpkin? At least offer a guy a drink first.” His laugh rustled her hair. “You might wanna watch what you’re grabbing, Bianca’s the jealous type you know.”

One of her hands was wrapped around his arm again, the other had a fistful of ass. Heat rose to Inha’s cheeks as she scrambled to release him.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you there.” She swatted away Varric’s attempts to help her and she managed to regain her footing. “Is she here? I didn’t see anyone else. I should apologize.” Inha peered out into the snow searching for the missing figure but all she saw were the druffalo moving on for better pickings.

Varric nodded towards the crossbow strapped to his back. “That’s Bianca, she’s one of a kind. Don’t worry about her though, she might be jealous but she’s understanding. Isn’t that right, Bianca?” He all but cooed at his weapon and Inha noticed his eyes soften for a second.

“You’re absolutely soaked through.” Varric turned his attention back towards Inha. “You need to get warm and dry. Can’t do much world saving if you’re stuck in bed with a cold.”

Inha struggled to remain standing on her own accord and could feel herself swaying gently with the wind. Her body was heavy and begged to sink; her abrupt run had left her drained of all energy. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how she was going to make the walk back to Haven. The snow was falling heavier now and the soft layer of fresh snow would make the trek even more difficult. For all she knew she had run miles from the village and in her current condition she doubted she would be able to make it more than a few feet.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of an arm sliding around her waist. She hadn’t noticed Varric adjust so that he was beside her, supporting her weight against himself. He was crouched next to her and by the time she understood what he was doing it was too late. In one fluid motion Varric stood and lifted her in his arms, one supporting her back the other cradled her knees. Inha tried to curl into a ball, a passive resistance to being carried, and the more Varric insisted the tighter she locked up.

“Stop fighting! Do you want me to drop you?” He barked at her.

“Yes! Put me down!” She tried to be authoritative but her voice was weak.

He looked down at her and she glowered at him trying to intimidate him into freeing her. She moved to better position herself for her release, instead Varric gripped her tighter and laughed. “You look like a small, wet, angry cat. You’re not as scary as you think you are right now.”

She pictured her hair plastered to her wind burned face and the way she was shying away from her icy clothes. His laugh was infectious and Inha couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the image.

“You’re not gonna put me down are you?”

“Nope.”

“You should have asked first,” she scolded him.

Inha sighed in resignation and relaxed in his grip as he adjusted his arms under her. Varric began walking slowly at first which she presumed was to make sure she was finished struggling. He must have decided it was safe and quickened his pace. She held her arms out in front of her chest unsure what to do with them. Her cheeks burned as she stared at her hands and tried to ignore the intimacy of their position. For once the silence was welcome.

She watched as the sun dropped down the horizon taking any lingering warmth with it. They had been walking for a few minutes yet they didn’t seem to be any closer to Haven than when they started their journey back. It felt like she would freeze to death before they reached the small town. She shivered and slid her arms up Varric’s chest and brought them behind his neck lacing her fingers together.

He felt white hot under her frozen skin and she curled into his warmth. He burned around her like a fire; each step enveloped in him melting away her ice. Content, she tucked her head under his letting it rest at the base of his neck. She closed her eyes allowing him to carry her closer to the town. His heartbeat raced under her and she pulled back to gaze at him. He didn’t appear to be struggling but she could feel his heart dancing against her fingers.

“I’m not too heavy, am I? I can try walking if you want.”

“No offense but I doubt you could get anywhere on your own right now.”

“I could try crawling,” she drew the word out pronouncing each letter. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“You’re not heavy and I’m not putting you down. We’re almost back at Haven,” he looked down at her and met her gaze with a small smile. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. But what about you? You holding up alright?”

Inha took a deep breath in, taking a moment to think about how to answer his question. For days it seemed like everything was going on around her, like she wasn’t a part of anything. It was as if she was a statue caught in a storm being whipped by wind and pummeled by rain while stood safe in her shadow. No one had taken the time to check on her, to see how she was doing. So far, Varric was the only one who seemed to care about her as a person, not an asset.

“Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. I thought I was a prisoner but now I’m a soldier? I can’t keep up! All I know is this is all bullshit! I mean none of this should have fucking happened!”

Her lips curled in disgust and she furrowed her brows. When she breathed in her nose stung as if she was inhaling acid. “Too many people died up there; I don’t even want to think about how many lives were lost.”

Varric nodded his head in agreement. “That makes two of us. This shit-show doesn’t make much sense,” his face turned somber, a frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. “A lot of good men and women didn’t make it out of there.”

The wall encircling Haven stood before them, large and imposing. Nearby a lone recruit was packing up the last bit of training equipment. He was young, Inha assumed he was no older than 14, a mere child training for a war that had already claimed too many lives. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of his body lying lifeless at the Breach. She was in no position to judge the recruiting habits of the Templars having grown up in the Carta but she was unable to stop the flow of her thoughts.

She watched as he picked up a sword and placed in in the mount, each movement planned out and deliberate. Had no one seen her run out or did no one care to follow her? He looked up and their eyes met, he must have sensed her watching. She offered him a smile and a wave, making sure she used her unmarked hand, which he returned before focusing his attention back on his duties.

“But not me. Why? Why am I the only one who survived? I can’t believe I’m still standing,” she paused shaking from more than just the cold, “well technically being carried but still I’m alive. And I’m happy about it. Do you know how shitty that feels? All those innocent people died and I’m relieved I wasn’t one of them.”

“For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived. Being happy you’re alive isn’t the same as being happy other people are dead.” Varric looked down at her, his gaze as intense as his words. “All of us are relieved you’re here, you’re the only hope people have, but that doesn’t mean we wanted everyone else to die for it.”

“I suppose you’re right. It was pure luck I escaped and if it wasn’t for the fact that dwarva don’t dream I don’t think I would believe any of this was really happening. But if it was so bad why did you stay? Now that Cassandra has me she said you were free to go. You don’t have to tangle yourself in this, Varric.”

He carried her up the stairs and through the gate in silence. She could see him working his jaw as he tried to figure how to answer her. He shot a quick glance down at her before opening his mouth to speak.

“From where I’m standing it looks like I’m already tangled in it wouldn’t you agree? I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this,” he let the rest of his thought trail off. “Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.”

Her hut wasn’t far from the gate, she could already see the sconces burning on either side of her door, a trail of smoke coming from her chimney. Lit fires were scattered around the town and there was a soft buzz of conversation draped over the area. The sun had long since set and the town’s occupants were preparing to turn in for the night. Inha was eager to join them, the days’ events had wiped her of all her energy and she fought to keep her eyelids open. She would have fallen asleep in Varric’s arms if it wasn’t for their conversation.

“You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes. We’re going to need a miracle.”

“The Breach needs to be sealed; the sooner the better. You know that as well as I do,” she clenched her fists behind Varric’s neck. “And for whatever Ancestor forsaken reason I also seem to be the only one capable of doing that. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll finish this even if it kills me. It’s the least I can do for everyone that died up there. You’re stupid for even suggesting something like that.”

Varric let out a soft chuckle. “I had a feeling you would say that. For what it’s worth I think it’s good that you’re doing this. Not everyone would have stuck around.”

They came to a stop as Varric approached her hut. “Well, unless they’ve moved you I believe we’ve arrived.”

Varric had brought her so close to her door she could reach out and open it if she tried, but she didn’t. Neither of them made any attempts to change their position; their eyes were locked on each other’s. All of a sudden she became conscious of how close they were. She could see the gold flecks in his eyes and the scar from where his nose had been broken. She could feel his breath soft on her face and his fingers digging into her ribs.

“Varric,” her voice was raspy, “I have a question.” He hummed in response.

“Why did you call me Pumpkin earlier?” His pulse quickened under her fingers again but his face betrayed no emotion.

“Nicknames are kind of my thing, everyone gets one. You were so far away your orange hair looked like a Pumpkin resting on one of the hills. I can think of something else if you don’t like it.”

She shook her head. “No, I like it. There’s no need to worry. It’s just—” her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes. A scene from her past played across her eyelids in syncopated bursts. A dimly lit bar, patrons scattered amongst the cacophony. Orange hair tangled in thick fingers, her name whispered in her ear. The flashback ended as quickly as it started.

“Sorry,” she said with nervous laughter as she opened her eyes again. “It’s just no one’s called me that in a long time,” there was a tone of longing in her voice as she spoke. “You don’t need to think of another nickname for me.”

She beamed up at him using her wide smile to hide the devious smirk pulling at the edges of her lips. In one quick motion she thrust herself forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. The laugh that followed was genuine. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Alright, that’s enough outta you,” he shook his head as he spoke but Inha saw the smile he tried to hide.

He guided her to the ground as if she could break with one wrong move. Her hands slid down his chest helping her maintain her balance as she stabilized herself on her feet. She turned to face him, the cold wood of the door pressing into her back leeching the warmth out of her. She wanted to say something, anything, to keep the conversation going.

“Get some sleep, Pumpkin,” his voice was gentle. “I’ll tell Seeker to take it easy on you for a couple days.” Then without another word he turned to leave.

She called a thanks out after him and he waved behind him in response. She could feel where his hands carried her and she couldn’t stop the small smile that came across her face. She wondered why a complete stranger was taking such good care of her. She wondered why a complete stranger seemed familiar. Inha watched as he walked towards his tent nearby, toying with the stiff hem of her shirt. Once he had disappeared from her view she entered her hut to retire for the night.