#except i kept babysitting for another few years

[lexosaurus]

alright folks danny is 14 and never has had a job. he ate at the Nasty Burger like every other week and went to the movies and did other teenager-y things. but my dude's never had a job.

how tf do we hc he's got the money to do all this stuff then?

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A promise kept

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 8

Prompt: Idiots to lovers

Rated: G

Tags: Childhood friends to lovers; Mistaken identity; Fluff; Modern AU if you squint

CW: none

Notes: @house-of-the-moving-image and I came up with this while bouncing ideas for another drabble and fell instantly in love with the idea. Be sure to also check out the precious art they made!!!

The bars of the jungle gym creak but Steve doesn’t lift his face from his hunched knees.

“Hey, big boy, don't cry.” 

“‘m not crying. Go away!”

This is ridiculous. He's almost eight, and eight-year-old boys don't cry. Not even if their only friend in the whole world just told them they're moving away to live with their uncle. 

They don't even know each other’s names. Names don't matter when you're eight and you're both at the park and looking for someone to play with. 

So Steve is big boy. 

And his friend … well, Steve mostly calls him his dragon.

It's because of this game they have. Steve is a king and the other boy his dragon and the jungle gym their castle, and every day, they have a new adventure. 

Except now, there won't be any more adventures.

“Oh? But how am I supposed to give you this?” 

Steve lifts his head, goes a bit cross-eyed at the flower that's hovering right in front of his face. 

“What would I want with that?” he snaps. “Flowers are for girls.” 

His dragon chuckles as he joins him on his perch. The playground stretches out under them. Their kingdom. 

“But this isn't just any flower. It's magical.” 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Magical?” 

“Yup!” His friend's face breaks into a grin, two teeth short. “As long as you keep it, I'll always make my way back to you. It may take a while, but I'll find you eventually.” 

“Promise?” Steve murmurs. There's a lump in his throat and it comes out small and quiet.

“I promise.” The other boy winks and tugs the flower behind his ear. “That I'll find you, and that I'll always be your dragon. And now, my king … how about one final adventure?” 

*

The colors of the jungle gym are faded with age. Like the pressed flower in its frame on his bedroom wall. 

“Oh hey, Steve!” 

Steve looks up from the book in his lap to find a familiar someone next to their picnic blanket.

“Eddie, hi!” He smiles, even as his stomach drops. “I … what are you doing here?” 

“Steve?” Will asks, ogling Eddie's tattoos and wild hair with large eyes. “Who's this?” 

“Oh, erm …” Steve runs an awkward hand through his hair. “My friend Eddie. He just moved here. Eddie, this is Will and El, the kids I babysit?” 

“Of course,” Eddie dips into a bow, which makes the twins giggle. “Steve has told me all about you.” 

“Do you want to sit with us?” El asks. “Steve is reading the How to train your dragon books to us.” 

“Fuck yeah, I love dragons!” Eddie cheers. Only he doesn’t sit on the blanket like a normal person - he perches himself on the steps of the jungle gym and hisses, pulling a silly face and mimicking claws with his hands. El whoops and claps while Will smiles shyly. Steve needs to swallow against the memories that threaten to crawl up his throat. 

*

“Was it alright to invite Eddie?” El asks. They've finished reading for the day and she helped Steve get snow cones. “You said he's your friend, but you seem sad when you look at him.”

Steve sighs.

“It's okay,” he says, because how do you explain this to a seven-year-old? 

How do you explain I only met him a few weeks ago but I really like him and it confuses me because it seems like I've known him forever because he reminds me so much of someone I used to know and I'm scared because it feels like I'm betraying that person even though I'm sure they've long forgotten about me?

Will is up on the jungle gym when they round the corner, beaming from ear to ear and talking animatedly with Eddie, who is gesturing up at him from the ground. 

“El!” he calls out when he spots his sister. She smiles and clambers up to join him, handing over one of the dripping snow cones. “Eddie has the best ideas. He just told me about this game he used to play as a kid. Did you know the jungle gym could be a castle and we could be kings and dragons? What do you want to be? We could-” 

“Steve?” 

Someone touches his shoulder and he flinches back into his own body. Eddie’s voice is full of concern, and okay, that's probably because he just dropped their snow cones. They're forming rainbow-colored puddles in the grass. 

“Stevie, c'mon, talk to me! You're freaking me out here!”

He snaps his head up. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie smiles. His eyes are large with worry. Large and brown and crinkling at the corners and so familiar and Steve's an idiot. “You just zoned out there, I thought-” 

“It's you,” Steve mutters. His hands are shaking and his eyes are stinging and then the next thing he knows is that his arms are around Eddie’s neck and he's sobbing into his shoulder. “Holy fuck, it's really you! You're my dragon!” 

“Wait, what?” Eddie pulls back, smile wide and incredulous. His fingers wipe away Steve’s tears, trace the shape of his cheekbones and jaw. “You're- Shit, really? I knew you looked familiar, but I thought there was no way-” 

“I was feeling so bad!” Steve blurts, chest heaving with what might be sobs or laughter, and who cares really, when he found his dragon again? “I was so scared to fall for you because-” 

“Oh?” Eddie’s grin isn't missing any teeth, but it's still just as brilliant. “Are you now?” 

“Huh?” 

Eddie chuckles. “Falling for me?” 

Steve feels himself flush, even as he gives a shaky nod. Eddie’s eyes are soft as he pulls him in. 

“It's okay, big boy. You don't have to be afraid of anything while I'm around.”

“This is really weird,” El whispers from somewhere above them as their lips meet. “I don't think they understand how being friends works.”

All my holiday drabbles

[joanofexys]

Please I must know more about Angel…

I’m gonna do a mix of fun facts and extra Angel backstory/PSU stuff so hopefully there’ll be something good in there

Some fun facts abt Angel:

Cuts the sleeves off most of his shirts

Crop. Tops.

Basically I wanted more men to dress like whores

Except he lowkey does it in a dad, rock band in someone’s garage, hot mechanic kind of way if that vibe makes sense in any capacity

His nose is crooked

Has a lot of scarring across his body, most of it has keloided (idk if that’s a word but I have keloid scars so leave me alone rip). He’s also got a few on his face

Because they’re raised and pretty prominent they tend to weird most people out and even though most of them are from when he was 10 or younger (courtesy of his father) they haven’t really faded. Some of them hurt some of them don’t

He doesn’t really like them or think they’re cool, he’s learned to feel neutral about it. However, Phoebe loves his scars

He’s built like a fucking brick wall. Just absolutely massive

gonna put it under the cut cause partial nudity ig but this is an idea of his body build:

also real quick the closest I’ve gotten for a good face claim for him is Isaiah Baumgardner

His hands are really cut up/scarred (I’ll explain this in a sec)

Cat and dog person. He will argue very passionately for it too and how unfair he thinks it is whenever people try and demonize cats or dogs

Queen would probably be the top artist in his Spotify wrapped

Hoards different editions of classics

Okay yeah moving on from the random bullets to me writing another essay about him

I did NOT get into this in his initial post but yeah his dad is a serial killer. For years his mom is labeled as missing (went missing when he was 4 years old) and then at 10 years old he’s removed from his dad’s home and moved into foster care. It wasn’t until 14 that his mother was confirmed dead upon his father’s arrest and confession.

When he was 14 years old the police randomly showed up at the door of his foster family at the time and took him down to the station. He was questioned for 7 hours, wrapping up at 3 in the morning, while the police tried to figure out if he had any knowledge or involvement in his father’s murders. All it resulted in was a crying Angel begging for his mommy to come home. With how young he was and the fact that he had been out of the home for 4 years (and his father continued killing during those 4 years) they declared there was no way he was aware. He was offered a chance to testify against his father. He refused to show.

When they dropped him off at his foster home he very nearly got the cops called again. He destroyed his room. Every personal belonging he had bought or been given by former families. He moved to a different home within the week. He breaks a lot of glass. And insists on cleaning it up himself. He cuts up his hands bad doing so. They have to take him to the ER.

Because he was a minor and had basically no ties to his father he was largely kept out of the media. When his father’s arrest and plea of guilty made the news it was mentioned that he had a single son but there was never a name. Obviously with Di Fiore anyone who looks him up is likely to get his dad in the search results instead. But he does his best to keep it hidden. It’s pretty easy for Wymack (and Andrew rip) to dig it up but Angel keeps it buried until he ends up at Palmetto. Once Andrew drops that he knows then Angel gives up on trying to keep any secrets from the foxes pretty much

He spends most of his time with the monsters. Phoebe’s favorites of them end up being Andrew (much to Aaron’s dismay since Aaron babysits more) and Kevin. However, like how cats can tell when people don’t like them, she is prone to asking for Neil and refusing to let anyone else hold her. Neil has no fucking clue what to do with her

When he goes to Eden’s with them if he can’t leave Phoebe with Harper then his go to babysitters are Dan & Matt and Wymack

He spends more time crashing at Wymack or Abby’s places than in the dorms

Resisting the urge to dump about my oc x canon ships but he and Allison are fwbs. He and Kevin are something (he’s basically a weighted blanket as a person which is something I think Kevin needs)

Uhhhhh fuck what else is going on with him. Idk he keeps to himself. He and Harper go on double dates with Katelyn and Aaron despite being broken up. He’s both very obviously a fucked up teenager and a good dad at the same time. He’s prone to cheating at board games. He doesn’t yell at people. His hearing’s a little fucked but he’ll probably never get it checked out. He’s very physically affectionate when he’s given permission (but he’ll always ask first. it’s good for setting healthy boundaries but it’s especially for Phoebe and to make sure she knows her boundaries will always be respected at home even from a young age). He likes RPGs (he’d be a huge fan of BG3) and is a fantasy nerd. Yeah that’s just a bit more about him

[lucy4242564]

.cowboy like me.

Chapter 12

All these people think love’s for show, but I would die for you in secret

~family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother~

“You good Barbie? Ya didn’t shootcha self did’ya?”

“I’m okay,” she looked beside her as he passed through the bushes. “I think I shot a deer?”

“Ya either did or ya didn’t.”

Two months after Lilah’s attack, she was doing considerably better. The topic was still fresh to her so it was something she kept behind lock and key. Daryl was the only person besides herself that knew the entire story and she wanted to keep it that way. She already felt so stupid for nearly getting herself kidnapped. She didn’t need anyone else telling her.

 

In the distance she heard her name being called. It was raspy, thick, and southern. The mirror in front of her reflected the door opening behind her revealing the man behind the voice. “We still goin’?” Daryl asked.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I was just finishing my makeup, I’m coming.” Lilah assured, then turned to face him.

 

Daryl scanned over her body like he’d never seen her before. He always did.

 

It was June 24th; their anniversary.

 

It had been two years since they made things official, but the first time they were actually celebrating the date. They’d both forgotten the year prior and chalked it up to nothing. This time though, Daryl planned something. Actual dates were few and far between in their relationship. Sure they would go out to eat or to the movies sometimes, but nothing about it got too special.

 

This go around, Daryl gave her a dress code, a time, and had been bugging her about it the night before. It was out of character for him. Lilah wasn’t complaining though. After two years of being together, it was nice to still have little surprises.

 

 

“You said jeans would be fine!” Lilah couldn’t hold back a laugh when they walked under a sign going into Six Flags.

 

She’d told him before that she’d never been, but always wanted to go. Nothing ever presented a real reason to go though, so she never did.

 

“It’s you and them short shorts against the world ain’t it?”

 

“I wear dresses!” She defended. “But you specifically said jeans.”

 

“You’da wore a dress while ridin’ one of them things?” Daryl nodded towards the general direction of the rides.

 

She pouted her lips and mumbled under her breath, “I’ll wear a dress while riding you.”

 

“Whatcha say?” A sly grin on his face.

 

“Nothing.”

 

 

A knock on the front door had Lilah scrunching her eyebrows. She checked the stoves time to see that Daryl wasn’t home for at least another 20 minutes. Even then, he has a key.

 

Glancing down at the floor where Cam, Brittany’s son laid, and back at the door she stood up. Lilah was babysitting while Brittany went to the dentist. All summer long Lilah had been helping Brittany and Paul out with him. There had been no issues since she started, so another knock at the door had her peaking out the curtains.

 

Her heart sank when she saw a man standing in front of the door. He was a little less than 6 foot, heavier set, and balding. If she was quiet, he didn’t need to know anyone was there.

 

Still, she grabbed her gun from the counter.

 

“Boy, there’s a car outside, I know ya in there. It’s about’ya uncle.” His voiced sounded from behind the door.

 

Daryl had talked about his uncle before. He had fond memories of him; he’s the one that got him his first crossbow. Lilah didn’t know the guy though, and she had another life in here she needed to protect. She stayed put. After silence from the other end for a few minutes her body jumped when a tapping sound came from the bedroom. Whoever he was, was tapping on the window in there now.

 

Lilah could faintly hear the man talking but remained in the living room with Cam. About a minute later there was another knock on the front door. “Ya uncle’s had a huntin’ accident, I need’ya to come on.”

 

Now he was just pulling at her heartstrings.

 

If he tried anything, she’d pull the trigger, no exceptions.

 

She slowly unlocked the door before cracking it open. It was just enough that half of her body could be seen. Before she could respond to anything he’d said, he spoke. “Who’re you?”

 

Part of her wanted to laugh because, wasn’t he at her door; she should be the one asking that question. Instead her lips parted before answering. “Um, Daryl’s girlfriend, he’s not here right now. He’ll be home in about 10 or so minutes though.” She felt him eyeballing her in an almost suspicious manner. Did he think she was lying?

 

Not that she cared that much, she didn’t even know who he was. It just made her feel awkward as they stood there in silence for a little while longer. “I’m’is dad.” The man said while turning around. “I’ll wait for’em out here.”

 

His dad?

 

Lilah knew very little about Daryl’s father. Or mother for that matter. She knew he became abusive fairly early in Daryl’s childhood and had a serious alcohol problem. He was the one responsible for the marks along her lover’s back. The last time they’d spoken was apparently a little over 3 years ago. They’d gotten into it and Daryl walked out.

 

It made her feel bad that Daryl still looked for his fathers approval though. He still talked about their hunting trips and whenever he was brought up, Daryl defended what he did.

 

 

 

“How’s your uncle?” Lilah asked when Daryl slid into bed late that night.

 

“He’s fine. Was trackin’ the area for the upcomin’ season and busted his ass, accidentally stabbed himself. Pa needed help gettin’im out the woods.”

 

“I’m glad he’ll be okay.”

 

“Yeah,” Daryl bit the inside of his cheek. “He wants ta meet’ya. Pops wouldn’t stop askin’ boutcha.” If the room hadn’t been dark, Daryl would’ve seen Lilah’s cheeks turn pink. “Y’ain’t gotta though.”

 

Lilah considered what he was saying. She felt very negatively towards his father. Most of Daryl’s emotional issues stem from the abuse he endured through his childhood at the hands of that man. That, in her eyes, was unforgivable. But then, she couldn’t help noticing the hopeful tone of his voice.

 

“You let me know whenever you’re ready Dixon.”

 

 

 

“Sweet pea, I support you. I just-“ Steve Cabot, truth be told, was panicking on the other end of the line. “How long have you thought over it?”

 

“Since Spring Break dad. I really think being on scene is what I was meant to do.”

 

“Why don’t you just, just think a little longer. Law school is a big deal and you’re already almost three years in.”

 

“I mean,” Lilah wanted to go ahead and drop classes before they really started. “I think I’ll just, I can just wait until this semester ends and make my final decision then.”

 

“That would be a much better option. It’ll give you time to re-enroll and figure out exactly what it is you’d want to do anyways.”

 

 

 

When Lilah brought up her potential career change in the future, it got Daryl thinking of just that. The future.

 

He didn’t see a future without her. It was about to be their third holiday season together and he noticed the nervous looks she’d give him when the cheesy ring commercials would play. They’d spoke about marriage before, but only briefly. More of a passing comment about their future wedding and why he needed to grow his hair longer. Nothing else.

 

It wasn’t a bad idea to start looking, he just didn’t know what to be looking for. He didn’t even know where to really look. Lilah didn’t wear much jewelry. A black, pearl necklace was the one piece he was familiar with; anything else was just random trinkets that he hardly saw. Daryl was clueless.

 

“Don’t think yourself to death.” Lilah’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

 

Maybe he should bring it up now.

 

“L?” He questioned. She hummed in response, waiting to hear what was on his mind. Daryl could feel his hands become sweaty, he was thankful it was dark in their bedroom. At least she couldn’t see how nervous he was. “Marriage stuff, is that somethin’ you want soon? With me?”

 

Lilah almost stopped breathing entirely. Was he about to have that conversation with her? “I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.”

 

These things scared her and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Finality was so bittersweet in her opinion. She knew Daryl was the love of her life. Daryl was her soulmate. Marriage felt so intense though.

 

She had nobody else to commit to and couldn’t imagine living a life without Daryl Dixon. Marriage should be something she looked forward to; this conversation had her stomach churning though.

 

“I don’t really know how ta talk about this kinda stuff. What would you— I mean, what would’ya expect?”

 

He was tripping over his words. It made her feel bad with how bad his nerves were right now, but it also helped her in knowing she wasn’t the only one that felt that way. “Expect?”

 

“Ya know, a ring, engagement, all’at.”

 

Truthfully, Lilah hadn’t thought about any of that in a while. “I prefer yellow gold, nothing too flashy though.” That’s about all Lilah knew she wanted as far as rings went. She didn’t wear them much. “I don’t care too much about an engagement. My dad just has to know; you have to ask him for my hand. He’s talked about me getting engaged and married more than I have I think.”

 

“You’ve talked about yer weddin’ before though, figured you wanted something big.”

 

“I want a big wedding. Everything else though, I don’t care a whole lot about.” They laid in bed for a few more minutes in silence until Lilah finally rolled over onto his chest. “I’m not in a huge rush though, so don’t stress over anything.”

 

 

 

Lilah sat on the floor of Daryl’s living room as he stared at the sheet of paper that was supposed to be teaching him how to braid. She conned him into learning since he was always so adamant about her trying out his lifestyle. It was his turn to do something like that for once.

 

“Don’t know why ya need me doin’ yer hair anyways.” He grumbled as he criss-crossed the strands of hair.

 

“You never know when you might need to know how to do it Daryl Dixon.”

 

“Ain’t that hard anyways.” She felt a hair-tie being secured at the bottom of her hair. “It’s like tyin’ a knot.”

 

Lilah was terrible at braiding, so color her shocked when he’d only just started learning and already had it tied off. With a scoff she jumped up and went to see for herself.

 

“Everything okay princess?” His tone was taunting as he followed behind her.

 

It was loose and a little messy, but it looked decent. She would’ve been impressed if she wasn’t jealous at how easy it was for him. “Shut up.”

 

 

 

Lilah was sitting on the balcony of her apartment that Thanksgiving drinking wine with her mom. They were going to Oregon to visit her brother who just started an internship for Christmas, so she got them again for the November holiday. Daryl came this time and was being surprisingly social with her dad inside.

 

It made her heart skip a beat to see how far he’d come since their first meeting.

 

“What’s your plans for Christmas?” Her mom asked her.

 

“Mmm, probably at Daryl’s place.” She responded, unfocusing her periphery from inside the glass doors.

 

 

 

Daryl Dixon was chewing the inside of his mouth raw. He was going to talk to Lilah’s dad about marrying her. That was the first order of business.

 

He needed a drink.

 

Leaving the couch behind, he walked to the kitchen and pulled out a thing of whiskey he kept there.

 

“What you pouring over there young man?” Her fathers voice floated across the room.

 

“Little bit’a Jack.”

 

“Mind pouring me a glass?”

 

Daryl reached in the cabinet to grab another glass, before making his way back into the living room. He handed one drink over to Lilah’s father, then took a sip of his own.

 

He needed to just get it over with.

 

He was thinking too much.

 

“I uh, I actually needa talk to ya bout’ somethin’ while I gotta chance.” Daryl’s heart was beating out of his chest.

 

“Everything okay son?” Her father, Steve, asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he took another swig from the glass. “It’s come up a couple times and I been thinkin’ bout’ askin’ Lilah to marry me.” Daryl wanted to throw up.

 

Her father didn’t respond. Instead, he downed the entire glass of whiskey in one swallow. “I think I need another drink.” Daryl swiftly grabbed the glass from him and walked back to the kitchen.

 

Steve Cabot knew this day was coming. His daughter had been in a relationship with the peculiar man for well over two years now. It was about that time the question would be on the table.

 

Still, he wasn’t ready for it.

 

He’d been Lilah’s sole provider since she was born. Even after turning 18, he kept her financially secure. He knew his daughter had a good head on her shoulders from an early age; a little bit of a smart-ass, but never the one he had to worry about making a lot of bad decisions. Steve didn’t mind continuing to provide for Lilah. As long as she was in college or getting her life started, he’d be there to support her.

 

Physically, emotionally, or financially.

 

How was he supposed to hand that over to someone else after so long?

 

Daryl handed him a full glass again. This time he only stared into the liquid.

 

Lilah still had another year left in college, more tests to take after that, then a career to start. Hell, maybe even more schooling if she decided to switch career paths this late in the game.

 

Marriage was a lot of stress.

 

He took a sip.

 

“When were you thinking about asking her?”

 

Daryl had grown used to the silence, he was nearly surprised by the question. “Don’t gotta date yet. Was thinkin’ over the summer, whenever she’s got more time on’er hands.”

 

Summer would be a good time. She wouldn’t lose her focus.

 

Steve didn’t dislike Daryl. He wasn’t overly fond of him in the beginning, that was mostly due to the fact he just didn’t want his daughter getting caught up in a relationship at all before she started law school.

 

Lilah was happy with him.

 

Even though it was a hard pill to swallow, Steve knew she was taken care of with him. Daryl had fixed countless things in her apartment that the complex wouldn’t fix themselves, he’d gotten her car back in commission, made sure she didn’t spend a holiday alone, and he’d even taught her things Steve never would’ve know. He still didn’t know how to drive a stick shift.

 

“You got a ring?”

 

Daryl shook his head, “Not yet. Gotta get’er ring size first.”

 

Throwing back the rest of the whiskey, Lilah’s dad leaned over the couch and stuck his hand out. “Just give me a heads up before you ask. I want to be in town for it.”

 

 

 

“C’mon blondie, keep up. Y’ain’t finna prove me wrong now.”

 

Lilah hated her life.

 

A few days before Christmas all of the Dixon’s ended up under the same roof for a brief period of time. An argument ensued between Daryl, his uncle, and his father, against Merle.A true pot-stirrer at heart, Lilah sided with Merle. She had no idea what they were arguing about.

 

But here she was.

 

Hiking through the woods, alone, with Merle Dixon.

 

He bet that the two of them could get a deer before the other three avid hunters. She had no choice but to stick to being stubborn and agree with him.

 

 

 

Lilah couldn’t believe how scared shitless she would be over a deer.

 

They’d been tracking one for what felt like hours at that point and she told Merle she needed to sneak away to pee. How the hell she snuck up on a deer instead, she had no idea.

 

She softly turned her head to see if Merle was still in sight.

 

Nope.

 

“Ain’t gotta worry bout you two motormouths, y’all probably scare the deer towards us if anything.” Daryl’s taunt echoed in her mind.

 

She needed something to encourage her to load and aim the rifle that she’d been carrying at the deer. She could do this. Lilah hadn’t actually shot a rifle in a few months, but the deer was right ahead of her. There’s no way she could miss it.

 

A deep breath in.

 

Target scored on the scope.

 

A deep breath out.

 

An ear ringing shot rang through the air.

 

Lilah could hear Merle cursing in the distance and his footsteps growing closer. When she dropped the gun down, the deer was gone.

 

What the fuck?

 

“You good Barbie? Ya didn’t shootcha self did’ya?”

 

“I’m okay,” she looked beside her as he passed through the bushes. “I think I shot a deer?”

 

“Ya either did or ya didn’t.”

 

She forced out a sharp sigh. “No, I shot at one. I swear I hit it, it was right there!” Lilah threw her arms up in disbelief.

 

Merle pushed past her and walked ahead. He was cursing under his breath but not loud enough for her to make out any sentences. Then he stopped and started cackling. “Bout right here huh?”

 

“Yeah, exactly right there.”

 

“Well sister Sue, get yer ass out here. We bout ta track that dead deer.”

 

Her face twisted in confusion until she stood beside him and saw blood splatter on the ground.

 

She had killed a deer.

 

“Girl, I will pin ya down if I got to. Getchur ass here.” Merle was laughing at her as he was cleaning her kill.

 

The other group hadn’t even made it back yet and it was nearly dark. The older Dixon was determined to put some blood from the deer on Lilah’s face, but she’d put it off, hoping he’d forget.

 

Tough luck on that one.

 

Begrudgingly the blonde girl walked towards him and grimaced as he smeared her forehead and cheeks with blood. Headlights shone in the driveway. Lilah couldn’t even hide the grin that was on her face as she walked from around back, Merle hot on her heels.

 

“Bullshit.” Was the first thing out of her boyfriend’s mouth when he stepped out the truck.

 

“Barbie killed her a buck Ken!”

 

Lilah honestly couldn’t tell who was happier— her or Merle.

Chapter 13.

[running-with-the-feels]

Headcanons for Hanzo & Kuai adopting a daughter? I get girldad vibes from both of then

honestly you are so right tho

I think it could go a few ways, bc I don't think they'd set out to adopt a kid, I think it's something that would sort of happen to them.

So if Hanzo is the one suddenly caring for a girl:

He found her in the wreckage of her home, just barely older than a toddler and crying her eyes out.

Shirai Ryu take in sole survivors, so he brings her back to the compound and she just clings to him, refusing to let anyone else near her.

Then Kuai Liang shows up to an alliance meeting and is stunned to find Hazno carrying a small child and suddenly wonders if he's been in a coma for a few years bc how else can you explain this.

As soon as he finds out the truth, he is immediately on board, making her ice sculptures as toys, teaching her to ice skate, showing her how to throw a punch (bc every little girl should know how to defend herself, Hanzo, why are you looking at me like that it's not like I gave her a knife yet)

Kuai Liang becomes her new favorite person and Hanzo pretends he's not bothered by it (He also just thinks Kuai Liang looks good with a kid and doesn't know how to process that)

Takeda and Frost both latch onto her as well, taking her under their wing and being the bad influence every older sibling should be. Within a week of knowing them, baby girl has pulled three pranks (one of which dyed Hanzo's hair bright pink) and shows no signs of slowing down. Takeda and Frost are very proud.

Generally, I think she'd have a decently normal childhood except for all the kombat training and superpowers.

But if Kuai Liang is the one suddenly caring for a girl, depends on where in the timeline it happens, I'm gonna go with it happening after he and Hanzo have made peace (but I have so many headcanons for how it works at other points in the timeline someone pls ask me about them, give me an excuse to ramble I BEG):

He's on a mission when he finds a baby crying on the doorstep of the safehouse he's using, with a note explaining that she is a cryomancer and needs to be protected. Understandably, he's a little suspicious at how anyone knew he was here, but resolves to figure it out another day.

Literally the moment she looks at him, he's gone, that baby girl is his new reason for living and he would do anything for her, 0-60 in no time flat just absolutely ride or die.

He names her after his mother

Kuai Liang brings her back with him to the Lin Kuei and she becomes the clan's best kept secret, not a Word of her existence gets out bc Kuai Liang is understandably worried that someone will try to take her (that note was pretty suspicious after all), and everyone in the clan is just instantly smitten. Frost in particular declares herself baby Ru's protector. If Kuai Liang isn't holding her, Frost is.

Hanzo comes to the temple for an impromptu alliance meeting, kinda worried bc they weren't scheduled to meet for a week and then just sees Kuai Liang with a baby in his arms and short circuits (is also hit with some Horrendous baby fever because jesus Kuai Liang looks good with a baby, fucking hell)

Hanzo is the only person Kuai Liang trusts that has had a kid before (look, we love Johnny, but man cannot keep a secret to save his life) so naturally Kuai Liang called him for help.

Hanzo is also enchanted by baby Ru from the moment he holds her and helps Kuai Liang set up a proper nursery, get everything he needs, and volunteers himself for babysitting duty whenever needed. He and Frost end up making peace solely because of baby Ru.

Hanzo also ends up moving into the Lin Kuei temple for a couple months (he still does go check on his own clan, he's basically just taking a leave of absence) and helps Kuai Liang learn how to parent. They take turns going to settle her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, that way at least one of them gets some sleep.

That's how they end up getting together, Hanzo has to go back to the Shirai Ryu for a week and when he comes back Kuai Liang is exhausted and running on fumes as he hands baby Ru over, kissing Hanzo with a mumbled thank you, and then shuffling off to bed.

If they both end up suddenly looking after a little girl:

They're on a mission post-Kronika being defeated (in an AU where the timeline didn't get reset bc fuck that), and they find one of Shang Tsung's labs that he rebuilt after escaping Kronika's void.

It's a new version of the flesh pits pretty much and in it he's made clones of all the various defenders, but not clones of just one at a time, like he mixes the DNA of two or more defenders together to make a kid. (Think laura from the xmen)

Every defender basically gets a new kid (Kitana, Liu Kang, and Kung Lao have an understandably Wild set of reactions to that which I will Happily ramble about given the opportunity) and that includes Hanzo and Kuai Liang who's DNA was mixed to create a little girl who is about ten when they find her (that's as far as Shang Tsung could speed up the aging process, all these kids look about ten but none actually are)

She's got Hanzo's temper and Kuai Liang's stubbornness so it's a bit of a rocky start, especially since she is so confused about the situation, but once she gets settled, she warms up to them pretty quickly.

They take her to the Shirai Ryu bc Kuai Liang understandably has some negative associations with a child that age being within the walls of the Lin Kuei temple.

She's absolutely unhinged and wild, just no sense of decorum. When she's bored, she will just Leave and go hide in the woods so at least one person must have eyes on her at all times (Hanzo briefly considers a backpack leash but Kuai Liang immediately shoots him down.

She's also shockingly talented at Kombat, which Kuai Liang is very concerned by and he tries to give her some constructive hobbies to balance her out, like painting. She takes to it quite well, but also really enjoys drawing quite spooky things so its a mixed bag.

She and Frost are always either the best of friends or at each other's throats there is no in between. Hanzo is worried by how often they throw knives at each other but Kuai Liang and Bi-Han did the same so he's not very concerned by that.

Takeda finds her unsettling at first (partly because he wasn't introduced to her before he stumbled across her in the woods, cooking and eating a rat she had killed bc she got bored.

They end up getting along fine once the situation is explained, but that was quite a shock.

When she's fifteen she joins the Lin Kuei officially, bc that is the youngest Kuai Liang will allow her to be when she joins and trains with them full time.

Eventually, Frost takes over as grandmaster and baby girl becomes the next Sub-Zero, the two becoming a deadly team as Takeda becomes grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu

Lemme know if you want more, bc I can do more

[moon-bun-bun]

I'm gonna ramble about my creepypasta AU from like 2012-2014ish I used to rp with a friend over my flip phone bc we where GENUINELY just insane <3

Some key things to keep in mind: we didn't really watch marble hornets at this time so masky and hoodie where (unfortunately) very much old fanon the rare few times they showed up. A lot of this AU was influenced by old deviantart web comics, mainly Pasta Monsters and The Seer. And lastly, we where like 12 when we made this so don't expect high art 💀 you're allowed to laugh bc genuinely it's so awful

This AU MOSTLY was centered around our OCs (of course). Mine was Banana, a repurposed warriors OC 💖 of course in usual middle schooler fashion, she was immortal and couldn't die, and she knew every single creepypasta amd everyone knew her and she was some special proxy y'all know the deal, if I remember to draw her again I'll rb or something with her bc I still love her dearly <3

Some key things abt this AU that I can remember off the top of my head in no specific order:

- Slenderman didn't have a mansion, he instead had an entire castle?? I have no clue why we decided a castle but that's what he had

-no one but slenderman lived in this castle. Not even his proxies, everyone else has their own houses, except Banana who has a big tree that grows diamond fruit

-how do people not fond a massive castle out in the forest? Easy. It's not in the forest, there's an entirely seperate realm they all live in and you access it by a random portal in the woods

-we genuinely deligated Masky and Hoodie to just sorta babysitting this portal. Actual proxy work? Never heard of it, they just watch a portal for days on end. Expect Masky sometimes, he got to babysit Banana because she caused ✨️problems✨️ constantly. We very much characterized his as the shy uwu nervous Masky the entire time

-proxies got their special proxy names Via warriors cats naming ceremony, we had a moment with another OC that was an extended rp of this moment. I do not know how we talked abt it like it was the most serious and genius thing in class the next day

-Jeff was one of the most prominent characters, he did not like Banana what so ever and she at some point made it her life goal to be the most prominent nuisance in his life. Multiple times as some form of punishment for both of them causing some issue or just fighting in general, Slenderman would make them go live together in the human world as normal people in suburbia or some shit. This happened VERY often and I choose to still use this plot point as the set up for conversations and jokes about them to this day

-the neighborhood they lived in was completely oblivious to the fact that these where two known serial killers, EXCEPT one of their neighbors who was hell bent on exposing them. No one believed her ever.

-how do they live as normal people? Tbis is where the pasta monsters influence comes in, I believe it was called an illusion form in that comic? Whatever it was called, that's the logic we used. Jeff looked like a Normal Guy and Banana instead of being a cat, was in fact a human girl, who for whatever reason we decided kept getting mistaken for some random orphan girl named Daisy

-despite this AU taking place in (at the time) modern times, old times orphanages and asylums where still in operation and was another very prominent plot point we used (to the extent of the knowledge we had as 12 year Olds of these places) banana and Jeff ended up in the asylum in padded rooms and straight jackets a lot

-this has no bearing on the plot what so ever but I know we referred to the police as "the popo" and ONLY the popo for the entire duration of the rp. All 2 or 3 years of it.

That's all I can think of at the moment, there's. A lot more that I'm missing here and whenever it crops up I'll just rb with more details or smthn bc I genuinely rlly like just putting whatever the hell we where on into words 💀💀

[anduln]

— the journey back home (home is where the heart is)

A few years have passed since the Shadowlands adventures. Anduin is back, though this time, not as king. He’s got a couple more important things to do besides ruling the Alliance, and that includes: having fun! With his best friend, of course.

Or, what if Anduin and Wrathion became the true protectors of the Dragon Isles?

thinking on whether to expand this idea or not! i have this whole plot in my mind of how anduin and wrathion met again in the dragon isles and how their friendship (and possibly relationship…) would blossom again with time. i think they'd have so much fun together, going on adventures, just like they would in pandaria… but you can't help but ask yourself… for how much longer would anduin be able to enjoy his royal break? and how does wrathion marry his current life (as a black dragonflight diplomat, and possibly leader) to his old life (carefree in some ways, but just as exciting, especially with his friend once again by his side?)…?

i don't know, i'm just freeballing here! but i will say, writing about wranduin in the dragon isles is so much fun!!!! might just write a whole bunch of one-shots if i can't quite put my plot ideas together. let me know of any suggestions you might have!!!

p.s.: this time, i've proofread myself over and over again lol. no more mistakes!!

p.p.s.: read this on ao3!

It was a sunny morning in the Waking Shores.

The sky was as blue and vast as the ocean. Ohn’aran eagles were singing and welcoming the new day, and a pleasant breeze swept what little grass remained in that rocky landscape. Deer and their fawn were rising from their sleep, looking for some fresh food. Nature was waking from her slumber as she should, and nothing was out of place.

Except for that ginormous fire-breathing hornswog trying to turn Anduin into a crisp.

He jumped out of the way from its spit, only to fall from trying to dodge another surprise fireball attack.

‘Wrathion! Maybe not the best idea to use fire spells right now?!’

His battle companion huffed in response but drew out his scimitar and launched at the hornswog, nimbly blocking out its tongue when it darted toward him in defense. He slashed the hornswog’s belly, and it jumped back in pain.

He offered his hand to Anduin.

‘And let that beast fry you instead of me? I think not,’ Wrathion smirked.

Anduin groaned, but Wrathion could see his smirk. They clasped their hands, Anduin got up, and off to battle they went.

————————————————————————

‘Stop moving.’

‘It hurts.’

‘Yeah, well, suck it up, pretty boy. You’re the one who insisted on using fire spells, even though I specifically told you not to.’

Wrathion sucked in his breath. Who knew paladin healing spells could sting this bad?

‘And I told you to mind your aiming! Why would you cast a stun spell even though I was so near you?!’

‘I can’t babysit you while we fight! How could I know it’d scare you so bad your fireball would explode in your hand?!’

‘I wasn’t scared, I was merely distracted by your incompetence—’

‘You know I can just stop healing you if that’s what you prefer—’

The two kept on bickering, Anduin’s hand still glowing yellow over Wrathion’s wounds. Toddy walked up to Naleidea, with whom she was buying some supplies for the Dragonscale Expedition camp at the Artisan’s Market, and whispered.

‘Oi Naleidea, do you think the two lads are okay? I mean… why is the Black Prince yelling at King— uh, Anduin like that? It’s not like them to fight.’

Naleidea laughed as she thanked the cheese merchant, eyes bright as ever. ‘Are you kidding me? It’d be a miracle for them not to bicker every time they come back from a mission. It’s become their ritual at this point. Have you never noticed?’

‘I guess you do spend more time at camp… I’m just confused, I guess,’ Toddy sighed. ‘I can’t believe Anduin would join us on the Dragon Isles. Not even as king, but… as an adventurer? I wonder what happened for him to abdicate…’

Naleidea’s face darkened. A moment of silence filled the space between them, despite the bustling streets, and Anduin and Wrathion’s loud voices. ‘Have you not heard? About what happened to Anduin a while ago?’

Toddy’s own face fell in response. ‘Well… I guess I would also want a break from… everything… if something like that happened to me…’

Toddy trailed off, and the two girls got lost in their thoughts. A moment passed, and Toddy cleared her throat, not letting the mood turn sour. After all, their friend was here with them, not lost in another dimension anymore.

‘I have to say I don’t even remember a time when Anduin and Wrathion weren’t a part of the expedition!’ Toddy laughed. ‘Those lads sure brighten up the whole camp, and they’ve been such a great help in taking care of the isles.’

‘I remember,’ the elf smiled fondly. ‘I remember it all like it was yesterday.’ Toddy gazed at her, confused, as Naledeia turned to the human and his dragon friend, now right in front of them, sat down at the stairs leading up to the Seat of the Aspects. ‘Alright, friends. We’re all set to go! Wrathion, are you feeling okay?’

‘I’d feel better if Anduin here would stop trying to use his paladin powers to further injure me,’ he grumbled, though there was no bite to it, only exhaustion from a long fight. Anduin chose to mock-imitate him behind his back, and Toddy sighed, while Wrathion transformed into his dragon form.

‘Well hop on, folks. The day’s barely started, and we’ve got things to do!’ The dragon’s voice boomed.

And away they flew. Naleidea smiled, still reminiscing on that one day it all started. And it went like this…

[addictiedtocrimedrama]

26 Years - Chapter 1: Prologue (part 1; because Tumblr won't let me post the story as a whole)

Summary: A CMBB AU fic. Jack and Clara haven't told their coworkers a lot of things about their home life and how they have actually known each other for 26 years. First chapter is a bit of a time-line. Please R&R!

A/n: So this chapter is a to the main story. I should let you guys know about a few things before reading; this is fic is based on a whole heap of my head canons, the IRT was never disband, Mac Taylor from CSI: NY is mentioned partly because he's related to Jack (one of my head canons), Karen is not Jack's wife but his sister, Millie and Josie are twins, the characters may seem OOC at times, I added an OC with the surname Garcia but she's in no way related to Penelope Garcia from the mother ship, the program mentioned is something I made up because I didn't really know how to explain how two twelve-year-olds (the OC and someone who will be mentioned later) become official FBI agents and are part of the IRT, the Covid-19 Pandemic never happened/s (oh how I whish I lived in this Alternate Universe), I also de-aged Jack and Clara to fit the time line I made, I got the format and inspiration of this chapter/title from another fic on FanFiction.net called "29 Year", and lastly please don't kill me if it's not a good story this is my first fanfic.

A/n2: WARNING I DON'T ONW CRIMINAL MINDS: BEYOND BORDERS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTER EXPECT FOR THE OC's THEY BELONG TO ERICA MESNER AND CBS.

A/n3: Any and all mistakes are mine.

A/n4: check out part 2 here (this a/n is specifically for Tumblr only)

gif credit goes to @shannyfishwriter bucause it's from their blog where I saved this gif

Jack Garrett is a secretive man. That's how he'd always been. Sure, he sometimes mentions things from his home life, but that's not often and that's how it's been for the last 26 years. The people whom he works with don't know what kind of life he led outside of work or what kind of guy he was. However, there is one exception, and she knows him better than anyone else on the team. Her name is Clara Seger-Garrett. Their colleagues know her as Clara Seger and as far as they know she had just returned from a 2-year bureau sabbatical after the death of her brother. Section Chief Cruz, Emma, and Lisa know about Jack and Clara's situation and private life. Section Chief Cruz knew when he became Jack's partner in 1998. Emma knew all along, even before she joined the team because she is their daughter. And Lisa knew since she stays at their place because her aunt and sisters live in New York and since it is a long drive, she doesn't want to ride the subway because she was still traumatized from a previous time she rode a transit.

Jack was Born Jackson Taylor in 1963. He had an identical twin brother named McCanna "Mac" Llewellyn and a younger sister named Claire who was 3 years younger than him and Mac. Sadly, when he and his brother were 4 months old, a couple by the name of Jeanna and Jason Garrett decided to kidnap little Jack and raise him as their own. Thankfully, in mid-1996 he was reunited with his biological family with the help of his then-fiancée Clara who he met in 1977 at their local high school. Later that year Jack and Clara who were both 26 got married. 1997 Clara gave birth to their first child; a little boy. They decided to name him Ryan Daniel Garrett. In early 1998 Jack and Clara moved to DC and Jack joined the IRT and that's when he met his partner Mateo "Matt" Cruz. The two got along well and that's when he met Clara and the kids. He knew about Jack's life and childhood but kept it a secret as per Jack and Clara's request.

In mid-1998 Clara gave birth to Jack Cade Garrett jr. His middle name was Clara's father's first name. A year later, Jack was made the Unit Chief of the IRT. Clara later joined the IRT herself in early 2002 with Jack's sister Karen to babysit Ryan and Jack jr. when they had a case. In mid-2002 Clara gave birth to twin girls. The eldest girl was named Millicent "Millie" Hope Garrett and the younger girl was named Josephine "Josie" Pearl Garrett. When she had to on maternity leave the then Section Chief Strauss, Jack, and she used the cover that she needed to head back to New York to take care of her mother who just had a stroke to explain her almost three-month absents. Three years later, Clara got promoted to Supervisory Special Agent.

[gentrychild]

Au where all might finds shigaraki on the street efore afo does.

Hehe, that's what happens in Anyone but I will write another AU for fun.

After the Evil Granny that I trust as far as far as I can throw her is all "Oh, I am sure a hero will help! Eventually!", an exhausted giant blond man holding several bags of groceries, wearing a cap, and generally looking like he had four hours of sleep in the whole week, appears and is "Well, maybe you could call the police to help the obviously traumatized barefoot child walking in the street? Or do you think the heroes know about problems thanks to the power of telepathy??? Because next time I saw, there wasn't a All Might-themed-bat signal anywhere in Japan!"

After a well deserved rant, Toshinori asked Tenko to tell him what happened, has a two seconds breakdown when he realizes the implications of his master's family being GONE except for Tenko, tells him that everything will be alright, gives him some candies and a HUG, and goes to work. Meanwhile, AFO is seething because All Might intercepted a perfectly good orphan but he is already making the arrangements to snatch Tenko as soon as he hit the foster system.

Meanwhile, when All Might asks whoever was his police liaison (it was 15 years ago so I doubt it was Tsukauchi) at the time to find a good family for Tenko, bursts out laughing and explains that not many foster families will want a child with an extremely dangerous quirk who just murdered his entire family (dog included) by accident. So All Might becomes his foster dad. He leaves him with Gran Torino when he is working, which means... pretty much all the time. If AFO was even more furious, he would spontaneously combust.

Tenko grows up loved by his Uncle Might and his Gran, helped by a very good therapist, and wants to become a hero because he wants to atone for some stuff. At some point, All Might ambushes find Endeavor and is "You have kids! I have one small human! What about they play together?" and before Endeavor can refuse, Rei accepts. Touya loathes having to babysit the kids (no matter how much Fuyumi and Tenko reminds him that he is also a kid) because he has to get his flames hotter thanks to the power of Hatred, like his internet friend, A41, explained to him. Only for Tenko to kinda graphically details him what happened when he fueled his quirk with the power of panic and destroyed his entire house. Touya goes "Oh" and does not set a hill on fire in this AU. At this point, AFO's fury at All Might could power half of the country.

A few years later, Tenko adopts as a kohai a problem magnet with a quirk named Hoard (definitely no link or relationship with All for One, it's definitely just a coincidence, just like the curls) so All Might is now uncle in law of the kid and loves him so I get both Dadmight and brother bonding between Tenko and Izuku. Also, I don't care who I have to age down or up but I want school shenanigans. Half of the League is in UA. Just a bunch of hellions who keeps getting in trouble and having adventures and Everything Is Fine.

+1. It's the AU where no one wants OFA. Toshinori tried to give him to Tenko who pointed out the sheer damage he can do without it and said "NOPE." He tried Touya who reminded him that he barely kept his fire from cremating him now and he didn't want to try after he got the murder-flame-go-BOOM quirk. Izuku took one look at the quirk and declared it haunted. Finally, poor Mirio accepts and almost dies thanks to the "Whoops, the strain will kill you unless you're quirkless or can use more than one quirk safely" rule and Izuku is "... I guess... that if there is... no one else... it's... what... a hero... would do..." while All Might is swearing left and right that OFA and that he don't bite and please, give it a chance. T_T

[peaktotheocean]

home

pairing: steddie ao3 link: here summary: Steve showing up to a metal festival after a twelve hour shift teaching/babysitting a bunch of five year olds, not even changed or showered from his day, covered in paint that he was never going to get out of his favorite sweater vest? The most romantic thing Eddie could think of.

September was already pushing it for an outdoor musical festival in the midwest. Personally, Gareth thought it was better because metal fans quite often wore rather heavy and leather outfits. They were primed to stay warm in the chill as opposed to overheating in July. But no one asked him. 

They did ask him to play drums though. 

Well, Corroded Coffin was headlining the final Chicago show but same thing. 

Touring was all well and good but there was something about being able to play a show in the town where they lived. Corroded Coffin could do a late set, get home on the last L of the night, and still go to sleep in their own beds, with their partners, and for Jeff at least, his toddlers who had no doubt already escaped their cribs hours prior. 

It was the best of both worlds. Rock stars and the comforts of home.

Not to mention the hometown crowds got the best kind of rowdy. 

It hadn’t been too long of a tour. Just three weeks of this new festival. But as Gareth got older (older, god, he was barely 28), he could see how they all felt it in different ways, the nonstop travel and shows wearing on them just a bit. 

To be back in Chicago, finally, after three whirlwind weeks felt too good. Gareth shook his head. A whole three weeks for this traveling festival. They were getting old maybe.

Not too old though. The act before them finished with a bang and Gareth felt that pre-show adrenaline begin to race through his veins and a little shiver went up his spine. He raised an eyebrow at Jeff who fist bumped him and shook out his shoulders a bit. Gareth couldn’t see Eddie but he could hear him further back in the wings, coaxing his first guitar into a final tune. 

The two on-stage performers stumbled into the wings. They were a relatively seasoned duo and old enough that they joined the wind-down tour bus every night with Corroded Coffin instead of the party bus with a few of the younger bands. 

The only issue was that Gareth could never keep their names straight. They had always been introduced together as Tim and Dan so he kept it that way, always addressing them as a unit. Dan and Tim. Tim and Dan. 

“Nice set,” Jeff complimented them, tossing them each a bottle of water. Either Tim or Dan immediately cracked it open and dumped the whole thing over his head. “Crowd is pumped tonight.”

“They are the best. Oh man. Except for—“ Dan and Tim looked at one another and burst into laughter. They both tried to talk over one another to explain, which didn’t help Gareth’s current issue of not being able to tell them apart. 

“This one guy. A white dude with—“ Hands waved, fluffing up each other’s hair in a presumed imitation of the audience member. 

“A dorky sweater vest—“

“Covered in paint. I thought it was the pattern on the vest at first.” Dan or Tim mimed splattered paint onto his soaked white shirt. 

“Like he took a wrong turn—“

“Or popped out of some portal from another universe.”

“He seems to be enjoying himself though,” one of them said graciously. “He came prepared with earplugs at any rate.”

Gareth looked over at Jeff and they both grinned. Jeff leaned his chair back to check for Eddie but the coast was clear. He crooked a finger at the duo that had so accurately described their lead singer’s partner. 

"Where was this guy?" Jeff asked excitedly. 

"To the right. Can't miss him, man. He sticks out."

Jeff and Gareth both made a rush for the stage, stopping just short of stepping out of the wings. They pushed each other out of the way to get a glimpse at the crowd, all while trying their best not to be seen.

There, true to form and the description brought to them by Tim and Dan, was Steve Harrington in all his glory. Gareth knew that sweater vest all too well. A few months back, the band had drunkenly ranked all of Steve’s outfits and this vest was top ten. Though it was now tragically covered in neon orange and yellow paint all down the front. 

The duo was right about one thing: Steve certainly stuck out in the crowd. If not for his clothing but also because of his actions. No head banging though there was some light head bopping happening, with a small smile and the bright green of his earplugs just barely visible. No chains or leather in sight. Just Steve.

“Oh man, he made it.”

“Eddie is gonna freak.”

“This guy do something to Eddie?” Dan or Tim asked, in such a protective and sweet way that Gareth wished he could remember their names just for that. 

“Nah, that’s Ed’s man," Jeff told them. “They’ve been together since his final senior year."

“You’re kidding me. That guy?” He double-checked again, popping his head above Gareth and Jeff's own, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“He's a kindergarten teacher on the north side. Hence the paint.” Gareth gestures to his own chest. Paint-covered leather wouldn’t be the worst idea for outfits. Maybe the next album cover. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d raided Steve’s supply boxes. “Last spring he came back to the house covered in glitter and they’re still vacuuming it up.”

“You mean Steve is still vacuuming it up.” Jeff shuddered. His children weren't old enough for kindergarten just yet but he could only imagine the revenge Steve would get up to once his girls walked into their uncle's classroom.

“True," Gareth agreed. "He felt bad. Kindergarten rooms need those hazmat showers, man. Like chemistry labs.”

“Do we tell him? Eddie, I mean.” 

“Well, we have to warn security too cause once Eddie sees him, he might dive off the stage," Jeff murmured. Steve's schedule wasn't exactly conducive to their own but he did his best to come out and support the band whenever he could. And each time, Eddie looked at him like it was the best gift he could ever ask for.

Gareth held him back before he could flag down their main bodyguard, an idea forming.

"Maybe we don't warn Eddie. But we do warn security."

"That Eddie might jump into the crowd? That's pretty standard."

"He'll sing to Steve but I don't think he'll go complete PDA." Gareth shook his head, trying to work out a plan. Eddie tried his best to hold back for Steve in public even though that didn't stop him from talking about his partner in print or any other media..

“True. Steve is…well, shy now,” Jeff agreed. He was so unlike the jock they knew in high school. Still Steve, for sure, but more confident and a nicer guy. He kept away from the attention as much as Eddie fed off of it. And Eddie loved no attention as much as the kind he got from Steve. 

“There’s PDA and then there’s PDA,” Gareth defended Steve. “There’s hundreds of people out there. Thousands.”

“So we get a security guy to wait until Eddie sees Steve and then have them bring Steve backstage." Jeff made a face, immediately realizing the logical end to the night. "Then we'll lose our dressing room to the two of them."

"Last time that happened, Steve made lasagna as an apology," Gareth pointed out. He had dreams about that lasagna. "I figure we get Eddie riled up enough, Steve will make us a four course meal."

"Cheesecake," Jeff whispered reverently. "Elena loves that cheesecake of his. She won't stop asking me for the recipe."

"Why didn't you just ask Steve?"

"I asked Eddie."

"That was your first mistake."

Jeff went to handle security and Gareth spun his sticks in his hand, not with anxiety but with excitement. Eddie wouldn't notice Steve during their first song, or even their second. He was almost positive. But right before they launched into their third song, when they paused so Eddie could say hello to the crowd and drink some water. That's when it would happen.

He knew his friend way too well. But hopefully he and Jeff and their families would get a good meal out of it. 

Gareth could still tell the second Eddie saw Steve. His best friend being in love never got old.

-

Steve knew the second Eddie spotted him in the crowd. The slight double-take, the straightened spine, and then the laser focus— all on Steve. 

Then came the smile. 

A beam of sunshine on the chilly Chicago night that Eddie kept trying to talk through, even as he shook his head and stumbled over a few words into the microphone. The crowd could have cared less. Eddie could do no wrong in their eyes. The applause and cheering never stopped.

Steve wouldn’t say he was used to Eddie's delighted expression or the way he did an excited little spin, barely avoiding tripping over the microphone wire. He hoped he never would be, even though it did single-handedly extend the long list of things Robin teased him about. Eddie's energy was always infectious and adorable and made Steve grin instantly. And there was something different about it when Steve experienced it in a crowd.

He didn't get out to see the boys as much as he wanted. His own career made it hard to come on tour outside of the summer. And the migraines didn't help either. Eddie understood, they both did. But god they missed each other.

“Hello you beautiful people!" Eddie shouted into the microphone and the crowd roared back at him. "My boys! My girls! My everyone not constrained by the binary!” Eddie winked and then leered in Steve’s direction. There was sweat and hair everywhere and he had only done two songs so far. Steve loved him so much. “And a special welcome to my man!”

Steve didn't bother holding back a loud laugh and did a little wave to Eddie, who reared back and clutched at his heart, as though he felt the force from it. He quickly skipped forward again, coming to stage right and leaning over as far as he could. They were still a good twenty feet away from each other but Eddie blew Steve a kiss and the crowd went wild. 

Even while knowing his face must be beet red, Steve did what he always did when Eddie blew him a kiss: caught it. 

He held it against his chest and shook his head, even while smiling. Eddie did a spin again and while his partner had never been a ballerina, it sure seemed as though he was using Steve as his own personal spotting point. Then Gareth slammed them into their next song. 

It didn't take long for a security guard to tap him on the shoulder and well, Steve had been expecting it. Jeff or Gareth had probably spotted him. It wouldn’t exactly be difficult in his outfit since he had to come right from the school. He'd watch Eddie from the crowd, from the wings, from anyplace at all.

-

Eddie was well aware that his ideas of romance were vastly different from that of the general population. Metal, for one-- super romantic music in Eddie's opinion.

His partner showing up after a twelve hour shift teaching/babysitting a bunch of five year olds, not even changed or showered from his day, covered in paint that he was never going to get out of his favorite sweater vest? The most romantic thing Eddie could think of. 

Steve carefully bobbing his head along to Eddie's music? Also romantic. 

These were songs that Eddie wrote with Steve by his side. First in his old trailer back in Hawkins and then in the shitty freezing loft that they shared with the rest of the band their first year in Chicago. Steve had been with him the whole time, pressed up against him, stroking his hair while Eddie scribbled furiously, trying to put into words how love made him feel like he was going to explode. There was nothing more metal than that. 

Eddie could see the bright green earplugs in Steve's ears. He was usually the one to put them gently into Steve's ears whenever the band needed to jam inside their house instead of at a fancy studio. When it was still just for them as opposed to any executives or engineers. 

God, Eddie loved that man.

“You knew?” Eddie yelled back to Gareth and Jeff in between songs. 

“Security’s got ‘im!” Jeff hollered back instead of answering the question. “They’re bringing him back!”

Eddie automatically looked to the wings at that and there was Steve, looking just as besotted as Eddie felt. Head tilted to the side and a smile that grew when he saw that Eddie was watching him. 

He was on air the rest of the set. The crowd, the band, the music. Everything had aligned for Eddie Munson and after three weeks on tour, he had come home in the best possible way. There was a heat against his left side, all from Steve's stare through the rest of their songs, including their two encores. 

The crowd was still hollering for more as Eddie bounced off the stage, Gareth and Jeff following close behind. Both of them slapping Steve on the back as they passed by him. Jeff thankfully grabbing Eddie's guitar before he could smack himself or Steve with it. 

“Hey sweetheart," Eddie said softly, voice raspy after a long night. He slid up into Steve's space and wrapped his arms around his neck, letting his fingers play with the long hair curling up there. He kissed Steve once, twice, and a third time before remembering he had to control his breathing just as carefully here as he did on stage. 

Eddie knew sounds and Steve's laughter was the greatest of them all. 

“You guys sounded fantastic.” Steve kissed him again, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie's face. He hadn't stopped smiling since the start of their set and with Eddie back in his arms, he certainly wasn't about to. 

With his voice dropping to a whisper, Eddie asked quietly, "Head?" He gathered Steve in his arms, impossibly closer and Steve's head rested on Eddie's shoulder for minute, earplugs still firmly in place. Eddie stroked his hair, fluffy even after being in a hectic classroom all day. 

Steve, slow and still smiling, carefully shook the head in question, rubbing his face against Eddie's shoulder like a cat. “Head is good, I promise.” He kissed Eddie's shoulder and then looked up, pressing a kiss to Eddie's lips so sweetly that his partner wrapped his arms tight around Steve's waist, refusing to let go.

They could hear the crowd leaving and roadies were packing up around them and Eddie just wanted one more quiet minute with Steve before the ride home. He had missed him so much. He didn't need Steve's arms tightening around his neck to know that he felt the same. 

“A sweater vest though, really?” A voice came from the side, a few feet away. One of the previous acts, one half of a duo that Gareth never remembered the name of. 

“Yeah and I can't wait to peel it off of him tonight,” Eddie growled at Dan. He could feel Steve's chest shaking with laughter against him but he didn't miss the fist bump between Jeff and Gareth. Those two were so weak for his Steve's cooking. 

They'd better not be expecting anything in the next few days because Eddie fully intended to be wrapped up in only Steve and their sheets for the whole weekend. He inhaled and breathed in Steve, whole and in front of him. It was all Eddie had ever wanted. 

-

-

ty for reading! -- ao3 link: here

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

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

Your name: submit What is this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you’d just kept working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any and every kind,” Merle laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _ _ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _ _ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _ _ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he prompted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

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

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

“Oh, I will, darlin’.”

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

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

_ _ _ _ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ya don’t need to. S’nothin’.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _ _ _ _

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

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

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

“Hey,” Daryl returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Daryl gulped. “What is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[soulmate-game]

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

[twicearoundthesun]

omg angst?? #20 for spies au dahyun pls🤪🤪

-💜

ok idk how angsty this is so much as just unfortunate for the spy team

tw violence

...

[2015]

The assignment had been a disaster.

Nobody had made it out unscathed except for – thank god – the kid and mother they’d been hired to protect. When someone had approached Seungyeon with the offer it’d looked too good to refuse. Babysit a politician’s three-year-old and pregnant wife for a few hours and then drive them to the dock in the next city over? For that sum of money? No problem. They’d even be fifteen minutes early.

Well, big problem.

The politician was a pretty good guy, as far as they could tell, but Seungyeon had mentioned he’d made enemies out of nearly all of the gangs and criminal rings that owned the city. It quickly became clear to them that he'd known exactly how his day was going to go when he’d picked up the phone to call for their services in the first place.

The man had been found murdered in his office barely an hour after they’d picked up his wife and child from their home on the south side of the city. It hadn’t taken long for them to get a panicked call from Jeongyeon running intel back at home– the gangs of the city were mobilizing, looking for his wife and child. Thinking they were the key to some flash drive the wife may or may not have with damning information about who-knows-what.

So began a long forty-five minutes of car chases, firefights, and - eventually, once they reached the docks – hand-to-hand brawling to finally get the mom and kid safely on the boat. By the time they’d stolen another car and were on their way back home, Dahyun and Nayeon were thoroughly exhausted and Jihyo – who had taken a surprise pipe wrench to the temple – was in really bad shape.

Dahyun held a piece of gauze firmly to a deep wound on her sister’s head for the entire drive home, Nayeon driving far too fast for her to believe that ‘everything is under control’, like she kept repeating to Jeongyeon.

Dahyun had certainly sustained a few injuries, but hadn’t felt any pain since she watched the metal come down on Jihyo’s head. Dahyun hadn’t said a thing since then, either, just shook her head when Nayeon asked if she’d been hurt bad and continued to try and clean her sister up.

Dahyun didn’t feel a thing until Jihyo was in their little infirmary, Jeongyeon’s older sister starting to clean Jihyo’s wounds while Mina softly pushed her towards the door.

Then Dahyun threw up.

She’d only made it to the hallway outside her room before she did; she was beginning to feel everything at once. Her entire body ached and she couldn’t stop thinking of Jihyo’s face as it had gone slack. Couldn’t stop thinking of the poor little kid, what he’d just been put through, too, before they’d shoved him onto the boat with his mother to god-knows-where. The room was spinning, it was somehow too hot and too cold, the lights too bright. The floor tiles under her knees felt like they were giving in, threatening to swallow her like quicksand.

The next thing she remembered was Jeongyeon staring down at her.

“Kid, you’re going to have to answer me.” Jeongyeon said, but Dahyun could hear the nerves creeping into her voice in her half-aware state.

“Jeong, did you – oh boy.” Nayeon’s voice was further down the hallway. Dahyun registered the hard floor tiles pressing against her shoulder blades. She was on the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut again to fight the headache.

“Yes, I found her, and yes, oh boy.”

“She passed out?” Nayeon sounded much closer now. Dahyun opened her eyes to see both of them staring down at her. Her mouth tasted like acid.

“I’d call it a brownout, probably, I heard her coughing from down the hall and by the time I got here she was already on the ground and waking up.”

“M’okay.” Dahyun mumbled. She sounded weak; she didn’t feel it. Her throat was dry. Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m okay. Just need… to lay down.”

And it was true; she was okay, but god she was exhausted. Just a few minutes of resting and she’d clean up her mess. The aches and pains would be settled with an ice bath later on, and she’d certainly ask Mina to help patch her up once they were done focusing on Jihyo. But before any of it she needed to breathe for a few minutes.

“Yeah, you look great.” Jeongyeon fired back. "You need to be checked over-"

"They're busy."

"When they're done with your sister." Joengyeon said.

"They need to focus on-"

She was cut off by a stinging pain in her abdomen, finding Nayeon poking at a hole in her black shirt. She was actually surprised to see her skin colored scarlet under it.

“Dahyun.” Nayeon clicked her tongue and took a deep breath. “How long did you think you could hide that? Jeongyeon, what is this?”

“I didn’t-” She blinked the grogginess away, now propped up on her elbows. Jeongyeon was quick to support her. “I wasn’t hiding it. I swear. I didn’t know.”

“Oh my god, Dahyun, someone got you with a knife. You’re lucky it isn’t deep, you idiot, when did this happen!?” She knew Jeongyeon said it with love. “Holy shit, kid.”

“I don’t know. It must have been at the docks, there was so much happening-”

“You said you were fine when we got into the car!” Nayeon was raising her voice, Dahyun tried to remind herself it was just out of panic. She hadn’t lied- the only coherent thought she’d had when they’d gotten into the car was to find gauze, find anything to stop Jihyo from bleeding. Nothing else had been on her register.

“I was fine! I am fine, I- I don’t remember getting it,” Dahyun said. “It’s not bad-”

“You literally fainted from blood loss!”

“She did not faint from blood loss, Nayeon, she’s right, it isn’t that bad.”

“Whose side are you on?”

Jeongyeon didn’t answer that, instead opting to poke at the cut again. Dahyun cursed.

“Looks like it’ll be a few stitches. Maybe more than a few. Let’s get you to the infirmary, for a full check, this time. Nayeon, can you clean up the mess?”

“Absolutely not, Jeongyeon. I just got my ass kicked too. I deserve a break. I’ll take her to the infirmary, you clean up her breakfast.”

Jeongyeon didn’t argue.

"Jihyo first." Dahyun mumbled, before she made any movement to get up.

"What?"

"They have to fix Jihyo first."

"Dahyun," Nayeon whispered, "Jihyo is going to be okay. You need to look after yourself too."

Dahyun only frowned. Nayeon helped her to her feet and slipped an arm through hers, guiding her down the hallway.

[holidaysat221b]

Let’s turn back the clock to Winter 2019

If you’re in the mood for some older Sherlolly Winter fun, look no further.  

To help get you in the Winter/Christmas spirit, here are all the submissions we received during the 2019 12 Days of Sherlolly.  Please give them another look, leave a comment or a kudo (or both!), and show a little love to the creators who took the time to participate in 2019.

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #1 - Created by @mel-loves-all​ The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #2 - Created by @mel-loves-all The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #3 - Created by @mel-loves-all The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #4 - Created by @mel-loves-all The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #5 - Created by @mel-loves-all The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

2019 12 Days of Sherlolly #6 - Created by @mel-loves-all The Twelve Days of Sherlolly   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

All Sherlock Wants for Christmas is Molly - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo All Sherlock wants for Christmas is Molly.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Christmas is the time to say “I love you.”

Share the joys of laughter and good cheer. Christmas is the time to say “I love you” And a feeling that will last all through the year.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

A Christmas Wedding - Written by @mizjoely “Marry me.”

He blurted it out without thought, without even realizing that was what he’d wanted to say to her, and certainly without taking into account just how ridiculous it was to propose to someone whilst babysitting your extremely precocious godchild.   (On Ao3, Complete in 5 parts, Rated T)

A Christmas Wedding - Created by @darnedchild As a thank you gift, I made a mood board for @mizjoely’s fic - “A Christmas Wedding”.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

For the Past Few Years - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo For the past few years, Molly’s resolutions were always filled with hope for a brighter future. This year, she isn’t making any resolutions except to quit making them. The past year had been hell for her and her friends. Hope breeds eternal misery and all that.

Upon finding a mysterious note in her locker at Bart’s, telling her to come up to the roof, Molly finds hope from the most unexpected source.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Gift for Mel-loves-All - Created by @darnedchild A thank you gift for @mel-loves-all.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Ghost of Christmas Past - Written by @darnedchild It was a valid reason to have the small holiday gathering at Baker Street, Sherlock didn’t understand why Molly might find it objectionable. She’d been enthused about the party idea, even offering to help Mary figure out decorations, up until the moment John mentioned that they would be using Sherlock’s rooms.

His mind raced as he tried to deduce what could have possibly changed her mind in a span of seconds.

Oh.   (On Ao3, Multi-Chapter, In Progress, Rated T)

In the Bleak Midwinter - Written by Carice (Tumblr Unknown) Set a year after the events of the ‘Abominable Bride’. Molly Hooper’s career in the morgue is over and she has thrown herself into her suffragette activities with Mary Watson, who has become a close friend. Mary, for her part, has had enough of witnessing the brooding looks between Hooper and Holmes and has decided that Molly needs to take - ahem - matters into her own hands, and soon. The stage is set, the curtain rises….

(humbly gifted to the brilliant MrsMCrieff who has kept us all in great Christmas Sherlolly Fics for a while….)   (On Ao3, Complete in 2 Parts, Rated T)

In the Bleak Midwinter - Created by @darnedchild As a thank you gift, I made a mood board for Carice‘s fic - “In the Bleak Midwinter”.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

It’s Warmer in the Winter With You - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo it’s warmer in the winter with you   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Just Outside the Window - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Just outside the window snow is falling, but here beside the fire we share the glow.

Of moonlight and brandy, sweet talk and candy; Sentiments that everyone should know.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Oh By Gosh By Golly… - Written by @mizjoely Ficlet based off a fanart drawn by @fan-dance-illustration for @mizjoely.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated G)

Restoring Hope - Written by @simplyshelbs16xoxo For the past few years, Molly’s resolutions were always filled with hope for a brighter future. This year, she isn’t making any resolutions except to quit making them. The past year had been hell for her and her friends. Hope breeds eternal misery and all that.

Upon finding a mysterious note in her locker at Bart’s, telling her to come up to the roof, Molly finds hope from the most unexpected source.   (On Ao3, Complete, Rated T)

A Sherlolly Christmas Baby - Written by @goodshipsherlollipop Molly is disappointed when the much anticipated Baby Girl Holmes number two declines to make an appearance on or before her due date. Will the baby arrive in time for Christmas or will Molly have to deal with those swollen feet and aching back for even longer? (Part of my post TFP Journey series.) Parentlock times 2.   (On Ao3, Complete in 4 Parts, Rated T)

A Sherlolly Christmas Baby - Created by @darnedchild As a thank you gift, I made a mood board for @goodshipsherlollipop‘s fic - “A Sherlolly Christmas Baby".   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

A Touch of Magic - Written by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Based on the song, Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You. Post-TFP. Sherlock and Molly have been walking on eggshells since the phone call despite knowing how the other feels. They decide that for once, they would risk it all for each other. Life is too short after all.   (On Ao3, Complete in 4 Parts, Rated T)

A Touch of Magic - Created by @darnedchild As a thank you gift, I made a mood board for @simplyshelbs16xoxo‘s fic - “A Touch of Magic”.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

Under the Mistletoe - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow, and telling me, “I love you!” Just being in your arms, takes me back to that little farm, where every wish comes true!   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

What I Want (For Christmas) - Written by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Takes place the Christmas after The Empty Hearse which never was covered on the show. Sherlock and Molly are pining and an unlikely matchmaker emerges to set things right.   (On Ao3, Complete in 2 Parts, Rated T)

You Remind Me of Home - Written by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Based off Taylor Swift’s ‘Christmas Tree Farm.’ Post TFP. Sherlock and Molly have been inseparable since the phone call–the best of friends. Both are afraid to cross the fragile line that separates friends from lovers. Sherlock whisks Molly away on a surprise trip where romance ensues.   (On Ao3, Complete in 3 Parts, Rated T)

Yuletide Molly - Created by @simplyshelbs16xoxo Yuletide Molly icon and lockscreen.   (On Tumblr, Complete, Rated G)

The beautiful 12 Days of Sherlolly graphic was created by @mel-loves-all

[nevenabadr]

It's a Twin Thing: Part 1. Bucky Barnes & Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader

Note: English is not my first language or Romanian. Also, this was written in a hurry as I was babysitting.

Y/A: your name

The story is in second-person, thus, the reader is the main character.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

My Sebastian Stan’s fan chats on WhatsApp; we support Supernatural too, that’s why the Winchester are mentioned.

Word count: 2568

Warnings: Smut–this is +21 and not for everyone.

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback, please. 🖤…

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It was a hot summer's day when you came home early to surprise your boyfriend, who is finally off from his duties as an actor and having a little time off for a holiday. You and Sebbie, your boyfriend of a year, now decided to stay in New York, as he missed being in his favourite place on earth.

You were early, holding lots of bags that were blocking your sight to the door. All worth it, because you will be able to cook him a homemade meal and show him that new lingerie you have got. If he forgot, you will remind him where home is.

You put everything down and took off your shoes; you started unbuttoning your blouse and taking off your pants. You were eager to take a shower and start cook for him.

You opened the bathroom door, and he was standing there fixing his hair in front of the mirror, yet he turned to face you. Before he spills a word.

You muttered, "Hey, I did not know you will be early."

You narrowed the gap between the two of you and taking his lips to meet yours in an intense kiss.

You missed him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, making the kiss sensual and he had no problem putting his hands on the curves of your waist pulling you closer to him.

When you broke the kiss, you took a moment to look into his eyes “Bebelus, there is something different about you."

He was blushing and puzzled "Yes!" He sighed, "you have mistaken me for Seabase, did not you."

You jumped a step forward in panic "James? Oh, my God! I am so sorry."

You were trying to cover your body and confusion took over you.

"But you kissed me back." You were angry that almost slapped him, but he dodged your hand.

"Easy doll, I am sorry?" He came off guilty.

"I heard things about you. I did not know you would be your e." You spoke while your eyes gazed upon the floor.

"My plane arrived this morning. I am so sorry that Seabass did not tell you." He kept fixing his hair, which is identical to Sebastian.

"We got on the wrong foot your e, but can you please give me a moment?" You pointed at your body as you were wearing nothing but your undergarments.

"Oh! I will be outside." He shut the door behind him as he left.

You turned on the water and let it run, washing away your impressment.

James is Sebastian's identical twin. James Buchanan Barns and Sebastian Stan Barnes. Stan was Sebastian's middle name, something related to his mother's Romanian roots.

James has a military classified job, while his brother made a career for himself in acting.

Not even their mother could tell them apart, except that Sebastian is a dork and James, as they call him Bucky, is an easy-going ladies-man.

When you finished showing and dressing up. The sound from the kitchen seemed as if your boyfriend was having a loud conversation with himself.

They even sound identical, you thought to yourself, gathered your strength and stepped into the kitchen.

"Hey, guys," you waved for both of them.

"Oh, baby! Bucky told me about the incident" the twin with jogging clothes came and wrapped his arms around you.

You almost stopped him "Sebbie, baby, is that you?"

Yes, Y/N." He kissed your forehead and then your lips.

"I am so sorry, that I forgot to mention that Bucky was coming." He soothed you with another sweet kiss.

"We were not introduced properly," Bucky said playfully

"This is Y/A, my girlfriend and lady of the house." He said, then pointed at Bucky, "this is the famous, James Buchanan, Bucky, my mysterious brother."

"Seabase told poems of you. I am sorry that we have that incident," he implied the earlier kiss.

"No, worries" you am smiled and extend a hand "Welcome to our home, Bucky" he took your hand and smiled calmly.

At the dinner table, Sebastian and Bucky were laughing and catching up. You were calm and just appreciating the home-cooked dinner by Bucky.

"You are talented at cooking." You were enjoying the cuisine.

"I, the chief, and Seabase were the tidy one." He looked at his brother, "we are a team of cooking and cleaning."

Except that, I don't cook," Sebastian said joked

“Bucky, you know it is today?” Sebastien was busy eating.

Bucky was stunned “a family and friends gathering!” “You are going to see the gang.” Sebastien was rather excited about this more than anything you have seen before.

Georgeta Orlovschi, or as her official name now, Georgetta Stan was a lovely woman, a Romanian immigrant who fell in love with an American to a marriage that brought the best thing in her to the world, the twins; James and Sebastian.

As a violinist and part of the New York Opera House, she met their father, Mr William Barnes, a well-known handsome conductor who made her world perfect.

The world was perfect until she had to change diapers and stay up with William by her side.

William was of a well-known wealthy family, but Mrs Barnes was an Eastern European woman. She wanted to have deities by herself and not to have servants to do all the work.

Her friend Mary Winchester, the wife of William's closest friend, John — was the nicest woman you can meet, a Taxes woman. Mary was like Mrs Barnes. She did not like servants to do the job; she took upon duties of her firstborn, Dean, and later she had Sam, a few years before the Twins.

The boys grow up together.

Dean took the eldest brother's duties to the bone. Even when the new kid, Steve Rogers, became best friends with Bucky; he took him under his wing.

The gang, no one could touch his brother or their friends.

Soon after they entered Middle School and Dean was a senior, Steve got into a fight. Dean came close to the boys to find Bucky just leaving his book aside and taking the ground by his friend.

Sebastian was the one in front of both. No one hurt Steve.

Sam hurried to Dean for safety. Dean arrived and tried to calm everyone down "Steve said he was sorry." He smirked at the boy, who was angry and demanded to bully Steve.

While Sebastian and Sam were trying to hold Steve back, "I can do this all day."

Bucky did not give anyone else a chance to speak as he bunched the bully right in the nose, which got everyone in trouble, which Dean wanted to take the responsibility for. Detention and forever to be recorded in his file.

Dean Winchester did not care for his record, just the young boys to be well.

But finally, the boys came clean to their father; Bucky was homeschooled for the rest of the year and Sebastian refused to go back to school until his brother joined him back.

They were all a mischievous gang with Dean Winchester as the head.

Days passed, and each got into their ways; Dean with Harvard school as his father pulled a connection to forget the file problem. Dean was already qualified enough.

Sam went to Stanford, Bucky and Steve picked a military life, and Sebastian was all about acting.

It was his first time alone overseas, the Shakespeare's Globe yet had another surprise for him, a friend; Anthony Mackie, an American talent who became Sebastian's best friend.

The gang was getting bigger and louder.

Mrs Barnes had the entire gang and their families for a gathering. James, Bucky, as he liked to be called, is finally back after an entire year in God-knows-what military work.

After dinner, the gang was laughing and drinking.

Dean smirked at Sebastian "You got a good girl over here."

"A great kisser too." Bucky teased.

"What do you have in mind, Dean?" Sam teased Dean because he knows what he will spill next.

"You gotta do the twin thing." Dean raised his bottle of beer.

Steve's eyes widened "what twin thing, exactly"

"My man, Dean wants Seabase to go wild." Anthony laughed at the idea.

Dean explained, "a sandwich with her in the middle and the outer layers are twins."

Sam tried to elaborate "if the middle was a girl unless other preferences and so."

Steve was blushing at the idea while Bucky and Sebastian were looking at each other.

"Don't scrunch your nose" Sebastian looked at Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head and give him the puppy eyes "adventures, please."

Then Dean joined him for bagging "please."

"Alright, Alright." Sebastian took a sip of his beer "only with consent.

At that moment Anthony gives Dean ten "You won."

Steve was just irritated at the idea and he kept eyeing his bottle "I can't believe you, guys"

"Dean always wins," Sam shrugged.

You were heading closer to the boys, who were laughing.

"Are not we going home?" You asked Sebastian.

"Yes, babe."

He excused the gang and Bucky followed with the boys waving and clapping.

"They seem happy and excited. Are not they." You waved at them while speaking to Sebastian, but the reply came from Bucky "they should be. And hopefully, will be,"

Back in the car, Sebastian hesitated, but he told you why they were laughing.

“Dean wants you to try what?” You were completely shocked.

“The twin-thing.” Bucky sounded excited.

Sebastian took your hand in his, “baby, it’s a silly boys’ bet.”

You looked at him, “are you going to let Dean win?” and you smirked.

Bucky explained the rules. It has to be a sex sandwich with both of them, but no sex while they are in their mum's house.

“God only knows how she might react to this.” Sebastiana sighed.

Bucky laughed and explained, “an eastern European woman, she might get them a priest to perform an exorcism on us.”

“Or sanctify the house.” Sebastien completed his twin’s explanation.

They agreed Bucky will stay at Sebastian’s house for the night until they plan the twins’ thing.

The next morning, after you all had eaten breakfast together, you were cleaning the table. You will keep bumping into Bucky.

His torso to your back, kissing the exposed parts of your skin. You titled your head on your back to give him room.

His hands will travel under your clothes. His girl was wearing nothing but your skill PJ of pair of shorts and a top.

Dean's words have got straight to Bucky’s head, that he has been imagining having the twin-thing with his brother’s girlfriend.

Bucky reached the kitchen, and he almost dropped the plates.

His brother was kissing Y/N, who closed his eyes completely as Sebastian was squeezing your butt with a hand and they together are caressing your nipple about the silk.

You moaned; Bucky felt himself getting hard.

Yet, you felt Sebastian's hard length against your butt. You turned to kiss him with parted lips, looking to consume him.

Their tongue met and the sounds of their kissing made Bucky, who was at the edge and impulsively tried to hide his aroused length.

Sebastian opened his eyes as he parted from the kiss. Y/A twirled to meet Bucky's eyes and peeking at his lower body.

"Poor Bucky." You stepped closer to him, you kissed him first, yet he opened his eyes, waiting for Sebastian's approval, who gave him a wave to go ahead.

You kissed Bucky and slides your hand to stock his length above the sweat pants he was wearing.

Bucky moaned against your lips and wrapped his arms around you for a moment to deepen the kiss.

At that same time, Sebastian paced to lay kisses on your shoulder and squeeze your butt.

You started moaning, parted from Bucky, to meet Sebastian at a kiss

"Better take it to the bedroom." You said in between your moaning and breath.

You walked with the twin brothers to the bedroom, yet could not take off their hands off your body.

In the bedroom, Sebastian pulled down your shorts, and Bucky took off your top.

"Bucky, you are beautiful, Y/A," he said as he keeps kissing the soft spot under your ears and lowers down your breast.

"You better underdress to boys," you ordered and both of them took off their clothes at once.

Before starting anything, Bucky looked at Sebastien, who understood his brother immediately.

“Second drawer in the nightstand near his bed.” Sebastian pointed to Bucky, who was full of condoms, lubricant, and some toys.

You twirled around Bucky for a moment "nothing I have not seen before" you

Ran your fingers on his skin till touching his length and teasing his slit that was dripping pre-cum.

Yet, before Bucky put the condom on his length, you got down and tasted him, “tasty,” you whipped your lips and helped him to wear the condom

Then moved to Sebastian and kissed him "oh, that chest is getting rough again." You kissed his lips and lower to his jaw and neck.

Then you winked at Sebastian playfully to drop on four to take his full length between your lips.

You sucked him slowly. Bucky was watching your butt against him and your inviting lady delicate area was pumping with a need that he could not keep himself from entering you all at once.

You clenched him inside you, milking him and you were bobbing your head, milking Sebastian with your mouth as squeezing his balls.

Sebastian gripped your hair and Bucky put his hands on your hips, entering you, as you were getting tighter and closer.

"I am closed," Sebastian muttered breathlessly as he came inside your mouth. You swallowed him whole.

On the other hand, Bucky was close, Sebastian took a step back to let you rest on four, you were moaning and Bucky banging himself harder against you. The voice of their skin clashing and moaning were loud that the rest Sebastian was getting harder again.

Bucky wanted you closer to him, he pulled you up and rested your head on his chest and squeezed your breasts "cum for me now doll," he ordered as biting the side of your neck and squeezing your breasts and you were so tight that Sebastian came close and stocked your clitoris to give you more pleasure. You were standing between the skin of the two brothers.

With almost shut eyes, looking at Sebastian who was stocking your clitoris, then he kissed you down till his tongue reached your soft part. After two strokes with his tongue on your clitoris. You were so tight around Bucky that he could not see in front of him as he cum hard at the same time you felt the shaking electric power of your orgasm.

You were about to collapse that Sebastian carried you to the bed. You laid together between the two brothers.

"That was wow," Bucky muttered breathlessly.

Sebastian asserted playfully, "round two"

"Maybe later tonight?" You rolled and kissed Sebastian.

The three of you were laughing and Bucky closed his eyes to rest.

You put a leg on Sebastian's tights, getting closer to his body, feeling Bucky's chest hugging you from behind.

The head of their bodies calmed that the three of you slept in harmony.

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