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skyfall8600 · 2 years

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Parent Trap: Part 18

Summary: You had the perfect life. A perfect daughter. A perfect career. You never expected that sending your daughter to summer camp would cause everything to spiral out of control. And your ex-husband… yeah you never saw that coming.

Pairing: ex-husband!Eddie x Fem!reader

Eddie Munson Masterlist <3

Main Masterlist

[1.7k words]

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting when he walked into the hotel lobby. The last few hours had been a rush of emotions, and frankly… he was surprised at himself that his mind still wasn’t wrapped around seeing you. A lot has changed since the two of you welcomed your daughters into the world; more specifically… once you left his priorities changed.

His daughter was his main concern. Every decision he made day after day had been for Hallie, and secretly Annie who didn’t even know who he was.

Perhaps he should have been concerned that he left Meredith stranded in the middle of New York, but she was a fully grown adult and could manage fine on her own. Besides, if he was alone with her any longer he might’ve blown his brains out.

All he could think of now was to thank the woman who helped his daughter, then get the hell out of New York.

It was easy for him to spot the bar, but he heard your laughter echo around him before he could even lay eyes on you. It was impossible for him to ever forget that precious sound.

You were beyond nervous, unable to turn around to see when Eddie would walk in. Your drink was clutched in your hand and thankfully the bartender made good company.

“They switched?” He said, cleaning and packing away a few glasses.

You nodded laughing, sipping ever so slightly at your drink. “I couldn’t believe it! I mean— they’re both just so creative and smart, I feel like such a terrible mother that I couldn’t even tell my two daughters apart.”

Eddie was frozen, eyes following the sound of your voice. And when they finally connected to your body frame, time stopped still. His ears became blocked out, unable to concentrate on hearing anything at all.

His heart was pounding at his chest; his mind was screaming at him to move, to make his way over to you and finally put an end to almost 11 years of misery. But he saw how happy you looked; so much happier than the last few days you were with him.

As if you could feel someone watching you, you turned to look behind you. Although you were expecting to see him, hell– that was the whole plan– it still took you by surprise when your eyes connected with his.

Despite the few fine lines that now decorated his face, those eyes were still the same. Deep, dark and utterly captivating. While he was frozen in place, all the years of yarning made your body move without thinking.

Much like before when he first saw you on that stage, time stood still when you walked up to him. He was sure that his ears were blocked because all he could hear was the thumping of his heart.

Your earlier confidence betrayed you once you finally reached him, throat dry and burning. You could tell by the look on his face that he was in no position to make the first sentence, and so you pushed past the fear that was rising up in you.

“Hi Eddie.” You said, surprised at how calm and soft your voice sounded.

Hearing his name come from your lips pushed him over the edge; tears burned his eyes and he just shook his head. “What are you– why– where have you—”

He was a mess and it broke your heart. You had to be strong; for yourself, for your girls– and to make the bitch that ruined your family pay.

“Come sit with me… there are some things we have to discuss.” Your hands wrapped around his clammy ones, he let you lead him to the couches. His whole body still numb.

“Oh, now you wanna talk? Didn’t seem like you wanted to say anything ten years ago.” He said in anger, and you tried to not let his words hurt you.

“Eddie–”

“No.” He shook his head, “You don’t know how it tore me up inside when you didn’t even give me the decency to speak to me– just sent the papers.”

Now it was your turn to cry softly, “No no– that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Eddie, I never sent the papers first– you sent them to me, with a note from your lawyer saying to sign them.”

His mouth gaped open, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“I did no such thing– I didn’t even think about hiring a lawyer until you sent the divorce papers signed!”

You gave him a sad smile, “I know that now. I just needed time to clear my head, I never wanted a divorce–”

He cut you off by waving his hand in the air between you. “I can’t do this. Thank you for helping Hallie, but I think its best we just leave.”

He stood up quickly, but your hands held on tightly to his arm. “Actually, that was Annie. Turns out Hallie has been with me.”

He laughed, confused and angrily. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but i’m fairly certain I know which one of our daughters I had with me–”

As if on cue, both girls rushed inside the hotel lobby. Hand in hand, a worried expression on both of their faces.

“Annie…” Eddie breathed out. He hadn’t expected the two girls to ever be in the same room together again, let alone already so close.

“It seems like we sent them to the same summer camp, and they switched places– put this whole charade together too.” You whispered at him, the soft smile on your face vanishing when you saw what was following behind them.

Covered in paint and glitter, Meredith was screaming at the girls. Cursing at them.

You pushed past Eddie, rushing over to where the girls now stood. A mixture of fear and determination made up their body expression; unwilling to give in to the blonde’s cruel words.

“Meredith.” You spoke, cold and loudly. “I believe there is something we should talk about; like how you manipulated my marriage to end.”

The words struck Eddie to the core, and he slowly made sense of what you were trying to say.

“You–” Meredith huffed out, her hair falling in front of her face as she breathed angrily. “And what the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?”

Her laugh was sinister, one of her hands crept onto Hallie’s shoulders and your instincts took over. Barricading the girls with your body, you pushed them behind you.

“If you ever lay a hands on my daughters again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Eddie was taken aback by how you spoke; he’d never heard you speak like that. And by the looks of your daughters’ faces, he could tell that they hadn’t either.

Something in Meredith’s face changed as she moved to look at Eddie, “Are you really going to believe her?! The bitch walked out on you and sent the divorce papers the next week!”

Eddie’s face twitched when she called you that foul name, even all these years later he couldn’t stand someone speaking about you that way.

The girls spun around on their heals, now fully facing their father. They spoke loudly, their voices triumphing over the others.

“Slow down– one at a time.” Eddie said, “I can’t understand you if you’re yelling over each other.”

His chest warmed that he finally had both his girls in front of him. He took in every feature they had identical, but he was still able to tell the difference in the way their eyes gleamed at him. He felt like a failure that he couldn’t realise that Annie’s eyes had a different sparkle in them to Hallie; that he unknowingly had the wrong twin the entire time. No– wrong is not the right word to choose. Because all ten years had been wrong; this, both daughters in front if him was how it should have been.

“Meredith played you– she made up lies, didn’t pass over where we were so you thought mum did’t want to see you or speak to you—” Annie started to speak, her cheeks flushed with redness as she rushed through her words.

Hallie nodded along, “She made it look like you were the one asking for a divorce! Mum only signed it because she thought it was what you wanted.”

You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head, and you so desperately wanted to run into his arms and confirm everything was true. But you refused to let Meredith out of your sight.

“Is that true Meredith?” He asked, his voice a little louder than a whisper. When she didn’t reply, his voice changed into a similar sound of anger that yours was only seconds ago. “Is that fucking true?!”

Meredith nervously laughed, trying to fix her hair. “Of course not Eddie!”

Meredith tried to move closer but you continued to block her with your body.

“Get out of my way.” She spat at you, “Do you see how controlling she is? Why would you ever want her!? All those years I watched you, she was always there telling you what to do. Or where to go. She didn’t even let you see your friends–”

“That’s not true, Meredith.” Eddie interrupted, joining you by placing the twins safe behind him. “How would you know what our life was like behind close doors?”

He was beyond angry now, finally in a position that he could see the tears streaming down your face as you stood your ground.

“I’m going to ask once more Meredith. Is it true? Were you the reason the were divorce papers in the first place?”

Meredith sucked in a breath, fear choking her. She nodded, “You were better off without her!”

Six little words. It’s amazing how much relief and anger can be evaporated by six words of confession. Eddie may have been stunned in silence to learn the truth. But you were a mother on revenge; and perhaps those six little words finally tipped you over the edge.

Your fist colliding perfectly with her nose, the sound of bones cracking and the blood spattered on impact.

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Note: Sorry it has taken so long for an update! Between having Covid then the holiday season, the days just slipped right past me! There will be one final chapter to finish this series off!

Eddie Taglist

@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22 @azaleaforsure @yearwalker96 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @grungegrrrl @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @dixontardis @buckyslwts @bratckerman @dani-d0rk @musicmoviestv @tomshelbystits @reddisteddie @ungracefularchimedes @santaatemypuppy @cherryrevenger @stardustworlds @luceneraium @azaleaforsure @taeddybearkim @life-is-a-huge-pain-in-the-ass @loving-and-dreaming @eddielives1986

Series Taglist (part 1 as tag list limits has been reached)

@percyjacksonspeen @manuosorioh @wandamaximoffandlokilaufeyson n @manuosorioh @coffee-prince-kyungsoo @ariacraigggg @the-chocoholic-writer @elleeeee21 @sav7689 @merlieve @a-smol-ginger @eddiesbirdie @eddiemunson4ever @may-machin @gothvamp1973 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @qardasngan @sweetpeapod

@natashaashleymarvelromanoff @the-chocoholic-writer @votela @spencestyles @iluvrey @dani5216 @borhapgirlforlife19 @lqveharrington @ssagube e @nayely45 @poeticsorcery @moonwateraura @svr2003 @miss-celestial-being @deadpoolsoci3ty @beepisbeep @taeddybearkim @loving-and-dreaming

@elleeeee21 @sav7689 @merlieve @a-smol-ginger @eddiesbirdie @eddiemunson4ever @may-machin @gothvamp1973 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @lem0nb0iii @bibbty @manuosorioh @edsforehead @probablyfakeomens @that1sadgrl @musicmoviestv @harrys-tittie @prisma-the-spooktacular @snoopwashere @munsonmolls

@girl-frm-mars @strawberryblonde101

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #parent trap au #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson angst #skyfall8600

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yellowwithalisp · 2 years

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Lost forever - James Sunderland x reader

You received a set of keys and a letter from a fellow soldier who passed away saying that he's waiting in some town for you and his family. You decided to go check it out before his wife and daughter go into some trap... Shouldn't have done that. ( There is NOTHING for my boy James but what @eggienobeggy & @bigboipyromaniac have done so here is my attempt! . . . . I can't write James I'm sorry- this sucks. ) ( I hope you enjoy it! - Yellow 💛🌻) (Final count- 2,574 words.) 𝙻𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎: 𝚆𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚜. (𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝.)

"Fuck-"

𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙶!

"Fuck-"

𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙶!

"Fuck!!"

I yelled as I finally shot down the last of the deformed people. If you can even call it that anymore. Because it's hard to call them human, they almost took on the shape of a human. In more of a grotesque form. The body crashed on the floor as I slowly lowered my gun. Taking my finger out of the trigger and placing it above the trigger. A few bits of hair moved in front of my face as I felt drops of sweat run down. I left my hand up and gently push them hair back into its place. behind my ear. I never came to this town when it was popular back in the day. I heard at one point it was a popular tourist attraction. But then I never heard about it again until a couple weeks ago

I served Navy for a long time with one of my oldest friends who died saving my life. He always wished he'd gone to this town with his wife and daughter when he got back. but he never made it back alive. I've been helping the family financially and supporting them ever since I got back from service. one night when I was helping watch the kids she came up to me with the letter in hand. The letter was delivered to her house but directed to me as if someone knew I was there. The letter claim to be sent from her husband. Claiming that he got room for his wife, kid, and me at Silent Hill and was waiting for us there. I knew better than anyone that her husband was dead. I watched him bleed out as I tried to put pressure on the bullet wound to stop the bleeding. I remember seeing the blood constantly flowing over my hand and how cold it was. Seeing the life fade from his eyes as he begged me to protect his family before it went out.

The mother was getting her hopes up but I told her to let me go check it out first. And I'm never more glad that I did that. This town was filled with monsters. And a wife and kid here would be terrible. Everything looks like it has been abandoned, and so far I haven't seen another Soul here. Just things that barely resemble humans trying to attack me at every turn I make. The set of keys that I've gotten the letter words to apartments so I found a map and went there first. And then the monster start to show up and never stopped. I already searched the first which he claimed would be where he and his family would be. I had to fight a giant monster of something. I don't even know how to word it. Every time I think about it I keep thinking I'm dreaming.

The second room is where he claimed I would be staying. There weren't any monsters there, but the key did lock the door and the monsters didn't seem to know how to open doors. So in the meantime, I've been staying there and cleaning out the monsters in the apartment building. Today I left the apartments to go look for more supplies in the town. What little supplies I could find and carry back to the room. After shooting the last monster for the moment, I made my way to the front door in the main lobby of the apartment complex. Opened the door slowly to the town covered in fog and walked into it. My gun was still in my hand but the trigger finger was resting above the trigger as I walked. There was a store nearby where I could go look for supplies not too far from here, I could go there and come back before it got dark out.

I tried to stay out of the open road and stick to the sidewalks as I walk down the road, it was best to not be seen as this town seemed to have no one friendly here in it anymore. Just the dead and monsters everywhere. I felt a too failure feeling of a water droplet landing on my head as I stopped and held out my hand. Letting a few more droplets fall down onto it as the rain began. The only thing I missed about the Navy was the water. I had gotten used to being out in it for so long that being without it felt wrong. So walking in the rain never hurt anyone. Even if it made it harder to see the monsters if they were there. I pulled up my hoodie to cover my head to see better as I slowly grew closer to the store.

I barely opened the door as I poked my head in just a tad bit and looked around. From where I was, it didn't seem to have any monsters in there with me. I waited a few more moments listening if I could hear anything before slowly pushing the door open and closing it. I silently walked in as I heard the dirt crunching under my boots. Pulling my flashlight out of my bag and holding it to use to get a better look at the spots away from the windows and light. There were lots of canned food there and thankfully I was able to get the oven to work back at the apartment. So I started by grabbing a few cans and taking off my backpack to put them into. Holding my flashlight in my mouth temporarily as I did that. I didn't freeze until I heard the crunching sound of someone walking around in the store with me as well. I slowly took the flashlight out of my mouth and moved my hands back onto my gun, Not moving anymore as I listen to the sound of the footsteps growing closer. The footsteps seem almost hesitant as they moved. I moved my trigger finger into the trigger and quickly stood up before the other person could get even closer to me. I saw the man flinch as he quickly took a few steps back away from me. Holding his hands up slightly as we both made eye contact. I blinked as I moved my finger out of the trigger and slowly lowered my gun.

Neither of us say anything as we both watched each other. He slowly lowered his hands as he opened his mouth to say so thing but backed out on it. Slowly standing up, I put my gun away fully as I looked at him. His green coat has splatters of blood on it. So he must have ran into those monsters as well.

"Ran into those things as well."

I asked as he blinked and slowly nodded his head at me. "Y-yeah… You see those things too?"

I let out a dry laugh as I nod my head. "Yeah, some of them remind me of my time in the Navy too fuckin' much."

I said as he looked puzzled for a moment as slowly nodded his head. We both stayed away from each other still as the clients fell. I leaned down and picked up my backpack and tossed it over my shoulder and looked at the man.

"You look like shit."

I said as he jumped a little bit as his eyes darted over to mine. I looked away as I walked over to the next aisle. Picking up some bars of soap and looking at it. "I have a room here. Shower works just fine. 4th floor so those things don't get up there." I said before tosing him the bar of soap at him. He flinches as he looked down at the soap and then back up at me. He tried speaking again but nothing came out before he slowly nodded his head. I nod back as I turn and walk a bit down the aisle. Looking at a few things on the shelves.

"I'm (Y/N)."

I said as I picked up some batteries and put them into the bag. "You got a name?" I asked as I look looking for things. His eyes shifted for a moment but he slowly nod his head. "James… James Sunderland." He said slowly as I moved some hair that fell in front of my face again back behind my ear. "Well, James. what brought you to this… "lovely" town?" I asked as I turn to look him in the eye. He look sad for a moment as he looked away, not making eye contact with me. "I'm.. Looking for my wife." I hummed as I looked away, putting my hands into my pockets. "Well, hate to break it to you.-" I let out a sigh. "-But you're the only other person I've seen here." I looked at him. He sighed as he rubbed the back of his head tiredly. "She's been dead for the past three years but… I received a letter from her."

I blinked as I let out a small huh. "Déjà vu." I said as I pulled the folded-up letter out of my coat pocket. "Friends has been dead for six years. Yet I get a letter to him saying he's here waiting for me and his family." I said before putting it away, Looking down at my watch and back over at the front doors. Hearing the sound of rain hitting the building. I looked back over at James with another sigh. "Grab what you need from here. I'll carry it."

I said as I walked around the store. He slowly nods as he walked around grabbing a few things. He tried to carry them but when he walked up to me I described the stuff and put it in my bag. I kept looking outside the glass doors and making sure there were none of the monsters nearby. James kept looking around the store until they finally grabbed everything he wanted. He seemed to be really bad at keeping eye contact which I could understand, this town did things to people. When he was finally done he walked up to me and I look back at him. "All set?" I asked him as I shifted to me and then to whatever was behind my head. "Y-yeah…" He mumbled. Shifting in place as he glanced down at his feet. "Alrighty then." I said as I look back out the door. Pushing and open as we walked out of it. The building still shielded us from the rain for a small b as we stepped out. I handed him an umbrella I found as I was walking around the store He looked at it and then back up to me.

"What about you?"

"Navy remember? I've been in worse storms."

I said with a smile as he slowly took the umbrella and I took the lead walking out past the safety of the building. James slowly opened up the umbrella and caught up to me. Holding it over both of our heads nervously. I looked up at him and I rolled my eyes before giving him a soft smile. "Luck women you're wife must be." I said as we walked. His eyes shifted away from me as he looked at the ground. I rolled my eyes as I jabbed him with my elbow. He flinched slightly as he looked back over at me. "Stop that." I said stop but he has raised an eyebrow, looking at me slightly confused. "I... didn't say anything?" "You suck at hiding your emotions. Your body language gives it away most of the time- Well, for the small time I've known you for. Don't think I have a notice it's 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 shoulder that it's getting wet instead of mine." I sit as I glanced over at his shoulder getting wet due to the fact that he's holding most of the umbrella over me instead of him. His eyes shifted away nervously. I reached my hand up and moved his arm holding the umbrella over towards him more my own shoulder started getting wet instead of his. "But you'll get-" "I'll take a shower as soon as you're done. I'll be fine don't worry."

I said as we walked in silence the rest of the way to the apartment complex. In normal situations inviting a stranger back to your apartment would be considered extremely weird and probably concerning, but since this town is not exactly normal. And the things here aren't exactly human. It's best if you stick together with people. Thankfully there weren't any monsters on their way to the apartment. Maybe the rain has something to do with it? I'm not sure. Either way, I wasn't going to jinx it by saying anything. When we got to the apartment, we walked up four flights of stairs to where my room is located. James looked nervous the entire way up. Probably because a stranger is inviting it back to her room. But at least here we can sleep and stay away from the monsters for a little. bit a little safe room while we go our missing ones. Speaking of his wife. I hope he finds her. If this town can make those monsters, then surely bringing back the dead wouldn't be too far out of reality for it. But if he doesn't then who sent him that letter? And the same goes for me. If I don't find my friend, then who sent me that letter and why? I unlock the door and held it open for him. He swallowed before nervously walking in as I walked in behind him and quickly shut the door and locked it. "Okay." I said as I walked over and took my bag off of my back and put it on the table. "The bathroom is down the hall to the right, the towers are right underneath the sink, and..." I paused as I grabbed the things he got for his shower from the store and handed them to him. "Here are the things from the store you grabbed."

He nod his head as he took the things from my hand. "Thanks..." He said softly as I smiled at him. "No problem, I'll- be out here if you need anything. Okay?" "All right." He mumbled before he turned to give me one last look before walking down the hall and disappearing into the bathroom. I watched him walk away I couldn't help but think that he was definitely was an attractive ma- I slap myself in the face hard before I could even finish I thought. The sound echoed in the room slightly. No- no. Bad brain. He's looking for a supposed dead wife that is here. That is not a good thought to have.

James picked his head out of the restroom and looked at me worried. "Are.... You okay?" He asked hesitantly, I smiled as I lowered my hands off of the side of my face and gave him a thumbs up with a nervous smile. "Yeah yeah just- thinking.... I'm okay- don't- worry about it." He nods, still... Not looking exactly convinced but he turned and made his way back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. I let out a soft sigh as I started to walk over to the living room and took off my wet coat. I heard the water start as I sat down on the sofa. Rubbing my eyes as I let out a heavy sigh. I got up and walked over to the table and grab the first aid stuff I got at the store and walked back to the sofa. I took off my shirt leaving me in my bra and started to take off the old one wrapped around my stomach, There was a nasty claw mark on the side of my stomach. I cleaned the injury before adding a new bandage around it. "Hey um, (Y/N)- . . . . . . . . . !" I jumped as my head snapped up as I stared at a now semi-clean James holding onto the towel he used completely frozen in place. Fuck.

#silent hill #silent hill 2 #sh2 #James Sunderland x reader #x reader #silent hill James Sunderland #silent hill James Sunderland x reader #fanfic #y/n #Lost forever - James Sunderland x reader

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garciaasfluffypen · 2 years

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bright beginnings pt 2.

its what brings you closer to those around you, you know? the chaos of everything, the timing... it’s never perfect, but the universe knows what it’s doing, and i’m so glad the universe led me here.

pairing: single dad!joseph quinn x fem!reader wc: 1.7k warnings: this is literally pure fluff, probably one of the more fluffier things i’ve written in a while (:

part one • part three

oh no. he’s hot.

that had been your only thought for approximately the last ten minutes as you sat with some of the kids during snack time, trying your best to not think about the fact that your boss was hot and you only wanted to do things that were not professional with him. you’d most definitely have to talk to your cousin about it later. pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind, you put your attention back on the kids and made sure to give all your time to them, stopping for the day when the last kid -minus thomas, now that you knew his dad was the boss- left for the day. thomas was chilling with you at the front desk when mr. qui- joe walked out, a bit more unruly than he looked earlier that afternoon. thomas automatically perked up in your arms as he saw his dad, reaching out excitedly and babbling as he got closer.

“how was he today?”

“a perfect angel. his temperature has been normal all day, and he played amazingly with leah and stanley in the ballpit earlier.” donna smiled. “quite a brilliant boy, this one.”

“oh, i’m glad to hear. you were a good boy today, huh tommy?”

your heart absolutely swelled as you watched joe lightly scratch thomas’ chest.

“can i ask how riley is doing?”

“she’s been asleep for a few hours now, i actually was going to ask if i could borrow the thermometer so i could check her temperature again.”

“no, of course, be my guest.” you reached around the desk to grab the thermometer. “we also have-”

“tylenol, yes, i ordered it the other day.” joe smirked. “which reminds me, if you lot ever need anything please don't hesitate to come ask me about it. my office is just down the hall.”

“wait wait wait. you’re our new boss?”

“the one and only.” joe chuckled. “as i was telling y/n earlier, i had planned to introduce myself but i got the daycare in the midst of a divorce. so i’ve been holed up in my office dealing with paperwork and stuff for that.” he sighed as thomas patted his face. “but, i should have filed the last of it as of ten minutes ago, so hopefully i’ll be able to be more involved.”

lucille cleared her throat. “can i ask how you got the daycare?”

“yeah, so john, the previous owner, he’s a good family friend of my ex. when julia and i started dating, i had just applied to work here as the front desk guy, and soon as he found out i was dating julia it was an automatic hire. ‘any friend of julia is a friend of mine!’ he would say. anyway, after he announced his plans to retire i was one of the first people he reached out to to ask if i could take over.”

oh, so her name was julia. not that it mattered.

“has he found out?”

“about the divorce? by now, probably.” he shrugged. “it’s no big deal though, he left me with a great staff.”

“well i’m glad to hear you think we’re amazing.” donna smiled. “but i have to start heading out for the night, my pup is at daycare herself and the owners close shop at seven thirty.”

“ah yes, don’t let us keep you!” joe seemed to turn back into parent mode within seconds. “i’ll just take thomas back to the office where riley is, and let you guys close up. don’t worry about locking up when you leave, i’ll leave after you guys.”

with that, you all split up into your typical closing positions for the night, each of you cleaning a certain section of the daycare. john had it set up that way so it was time effective, rather than having everyone clean the same area. it always went faster when multiple people were cleaning as well. everything was properly sanitized and put away by seven fifteen, leaving you and the girls in the lobby gathering your things.

“do you want to head out for a drink?” lucille looked between you and lauren.

“i would, but i promised my aunt i’d be home for dinner.” you smiled. “and i have a few chores and stuff i need to do.”

“you wanna raincheck? what about friday instead?”

“i think that might be best, then we can invite donna and the other girls as well.”

seeing as the daycare had a pretty small staff, with four in the morning and four in the afternoons, you became pretty close with everyone quickly. you weren’t quite sure how the daycare actually made it's money, considering how small it was, but it was up and running and that’s all that seemed to matter to joe. yes, there were some small repairs that needed to be done, but none that someone who had a good handiness skill couldn’t fix so they didn’t have to call anyone in. and besides, the staff needed to focus on the kids and their well beings, not the silly little problems the old london building had.

you said goodbye to the girls and ran off to the bathroom real fast, which happened to be across the hall from joe’s office. you did your business as quick as you possibly could, hoping to make it out before him so you didn’t get locked in the center. it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you did want to get home so you could talk to your cousin right away. it was one of the plus sides to living with your aunt, seeing as you could walk right across the hall to your cousin and spill all the tea in the world instead of waiting for a socially acceptable time to call her. you and your cousin have been best friends since you could walk, and did your best to stay in touch when you and your parents moved to america back when you were two. you turned twenty one and decided on a whim to pack up all your stuff and move back to london, where your aunt welcomed you in with open arms. as much as you loved living in america, it was such a shit show and the healthcare was horrible. your heart was in london, tucked away in the little flat your aunt and cousin lived in. while you still kept in touch with your parents, it was hard to only see them in person every few months, but you were saving up to surprise them over the summer and spend two weeks with them. they had recently moved to new orleans for your dads work, and you had been dying to explore there since you were a kid. it was only fair that you do that exploring with your parents by your side.

you were jostled out of your thoughts when you walked out of the bathroom to see joe struggling to carry not only the twins, but a folder of papers and the diaper bag. he locked eyes with you and visibly relaxed, glad to see someone was still here.

“y/n, a lovely-”

“do you-” you cut yourself off. “sorry, you first.”

joe chuckled. “i’m not saying anything until you go first.”

“then we’ll be here a while.” you joked effortlessly. “or until one of them wakes up.”

“they sleep through the night, so we will indeed be here for a while.”

there was a small moment of silence. “do you want some help? i was just about to head out.”

“if you wouldn’t mind, that would be fantastic.”

joe maneuvered himself so you could grab the diaper bag, as well as the folder he was holding. he re adjusted the twins in his arms, both of them having fallen asleep on a shoulder. the two of you walked into the front lobby, shutting off the lights as you went. as you held the door open for him, you couldn’t help but tell how tired he looked, and a pang of sadness flew through your body. you couldn’t begin to imagine how much he had been through in the past few months, with getting full ownership of the daycare plus the divorce on top of having twins. you watched as he expertly locked up shop with the two kids in his arms, his head tilting you in the direction of the car park he usually parked in. the walk was pretty quick, and you found yourself helping him get the twins into the car within a few minutes of leaving the center.

“thank you for your help, y/n, i don’t know how i would have been able to do that myself.”

“it’s no problem-”

joe let out a dramatic groan. “oh not you too. i absolutely hate it when people say that.”

“well it really isn’t-”

“ah ah. nope. don’t say it. i will kick your ass if you do.”

“i’d like to see you try, mr. i wear designer suits to work.” you smirked. “you probably couldn’t even catch up to me, i had the fastest mile in high school.”

a chuckle. “you’re feisty, no wonder john liked you.”

“my parents didn’t call me a spitfire for nothing.” you shrugged.

joe smiled. “it most definitely suits you.”

“well, if you don’t need anything else i best be going, my aunt’s going to wonder where i am.”

“yes, of course, i probably should get these two home in bed as well. have a good night, y/n.”

“you too.” you made it approximately five steps before you turned around to face him, walking backwards as you talked. “the girls and i are going out for drinks on friday if you’d like to join.” you paused for a split second. “if you can find a sitter, i mean. don’t feel like you have to either i-”

“i’d love to. text me the deets?”

“i don’t have your number. and never say deets again, for the sake of everyone's sanity.”

“i’ll have a sticky note in your cubicle in the morning. get some rest!”

“you too! see you tomorrow.”

as you walked away, it hit you. oh my god, was he flirting with me?

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn rpf #bright beginnings universe

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kata-sans · 2 months

Text

Raising Stripe

Chapter 12

Stripe was on the floor playing with his stuffed bear when he saw his blonde caretaker frantically walk into the living room. He was trying to put on his socks and shoes while talking to someone on the phone. “Hank, Cindy just called and said she's out sick. I'm on my way over but I need you to stay 30 minutes after your shift until I get there. I will pay you an extra hour for your trouble. Gha! Thank you.”

Tweek hung up the phone and almost jumped when he heard Stripe shake his bear. “Oh Jeezuz! Stripe I almost forgot about you! I c-can't leave you here, but I don't know anyone that can babysit! Arrg!” Tweek growled in frustration before ultimately making a decision. “You're gonna have to come with me to the shop.”

He quickly dressed the baby in a new onesie and prepared the diaper bag. He strapped the baby to the car seat stroller with a little resistance, which he quelled with the help of Pooh bear. Soon he was ready and headed out the door to begin his walk to work.

Tweek was glad his husband had been able to find a house within walking distance of the coffee shop. He was not a fan of driving and the couple agreed Craig should use the car to get to work. In ten minutes, Tweek could see the sign to his family's business.

As soon as he walked into the shop, Tweek realized he had overlooked a small detail in his plan. Everyone in the shop was very familiar with Tweek, and everyone's eyes immediately landed on the stroller in his hands.

Soon Tweek found himself surrounded by regular customers all fawning and cooing at the new baby in the shop. They overwhelmed Tweek with questions about the baby's origin and congratulated him on embarking on the journey of parenting. Tweek felt like panicking until he heard Stripe begin to whine.

Stripe always enjoyed having his caretakers’ full attention, but when a crowd of strangers threw themselves in his face he became scared. He didn't like all these strangers looking at him. He squirmed away from their touch and began to whine.

Stripe's fearful whine was the last straw for Tweek. He sternly told the people to step back and proceeded to push the stroller into the back room. He quickly unstrapped the baby from his stroller and held him tightly against his chest. When the baby settled down, he pulled out a bottle he had prepared and decided to feed him and put him down for a nap.

The door to the back opened and in walked one of the shop’s managers, Hank. “Hey is everything alright?”

Tweek sighed, “Yeah everything is okay, Stripe was a little overwhelmed but he's doing fine now. Thank you for staying longer.”

Hank brushed it off, “ No it alright, are you sure you can work while watching over a baby.”

“Yeah it's fine, my parents used to keep me in the back room when I was an infant. As soon as he's asleep I'll keep the door propped open and start working.” Tweek assured Hank.

With the baby sleeping, Tweek proceeded to begin working. He stepped into his job as if it were second nature. He quickly took orders, brewed coffee, and greeted customers with ease. He finished attending the midday rush when he heard the sound of Stripe waking up. Seeing only a few customers left in the shop, Tweek decided to bring out Stripe before starting clean up procedures.

Tweek pulled out the stroller with the baby still rubbing his sleepy eyes. He placed the stroller in a corner of the lobby, where he could keep a close eye on Stripe. Tweek began wiping down all the tables in the lobby. He then grabbed a broom and began to sweep under the tables. Before he could start mopping, a customer walked in.

Tweek returned to the counter, making sure the baby was out of reach of customers. Satisfied, he gave the lady at the counter his full attention. “Good afternoon ma’am. Order whenever you are ready.”

The woman scoffed, “Does your wife not have time to watch your kid?”

Tweek was taken aback, but attempted to be professional, “I apologize,miss, but my Husband is working and I was called in last minute. Would you be interested in our house specials?”

The woman refused to drop the issue and continued to interrogate Tweek. “Does your boss know you brought in your child?” She demanded.

Tweek was flabbergasted. He quickly composed himself and decided to play along. “I don't believe the boss would be concerned with the baby. He will have a problem if you harass the employees. May I take your order?”

“Harassment! I have half a mind to report you to the owner for your lack of professionalism!” The lady shouted.

Tweek almost bursted out laughing. “I'm sorry ma'am let me try again. Good afternoon MA'AM. Welcome to Tweek Bros. Coffee. My name is Tweek, if you are not interested in ordering anything please leave my shop!”

The lady quickly shut her mouth in embarrassment. She turned around and left with a huff. Tweek in Tucker fashion bid her farewell with his middle finger which caused Stripe to giggle at the familiar sight.

Ch11

Ch13

#craig x tweek #sp tweek #tweek tweak #craig tucker #sp craig #sp stripe #raising stripe

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 years

Text

Open on Christmas

Winter Whumperland 2022: Day 12. Favorite Holiday Movie

Fandom: Bad Times at the El Royale, Miles Miller, f!reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and the El Royale is without a single guest. However, Miles is still forced to work all night. Luckily, you are there to keep him company.

TW: Fluff, Almost Kiss, Vague Mentions of Past Trauma

Notes: This fic will make more sense if you have seen the movie "It's a Wonderful Life". Thanks to @mayhem24-7forever for the idea! I love you! 💖

The hotel hadn’t had a single guest in almost a month. This time of year, no one wanted to stay in the middle of nowhere in a long-forgotten relic of the past. They wanted luxury close to family and friends, not a place where the nearest restaurant was twenty miles away.

And yet, management didn’t care. They still demanded that the hotel stay open all night on Christmas Eve in the hopes of catching the eye of a lost holiday traveler. So, that was how Miles found himself standing behind the front desk at 9:00 at night on December 24, alone in the vast lobby. Most of the interior lights were off leaving only the dim glow of the desk lamp to cut through the darkness. Miles sighed as he straightened the papers in front of him for the fifth time, wondering what he was supposed to do for the rest of the night.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and you walked in lugging the cleaning cart behind you. Miles scurried out from behind the desk and helped you drag it across the lobby. One of the wheels had broken last month but no one would replace it even after you sent in multiple requests to management. However together, the two of you managed to get it back into its rightful place in the back.

As you closed the door, you smiled at him. “Thanks. That darn thing is going to be the death of me one of these days. I almost broke my toe kicking it in frustration.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you push it for you on your rounds,” he said as the two of you reentered the lobby.

“I managed.” Leaning on the front desk, you said, “Well, I finished cleaning the last of the rooms. Though, without any guests in them, I am not sure why they were considered dirty in the first place.”

Miles shook his head. “It doesn’t seem right they made you do that, but as you know, what the bosses want–”

“– the bosses get,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes but giving him a warm smile that let him know it wasn’t directed at him. Looking around the dim room, you said, “Gosh! It sure is quiet in here. It doesn’t seem right to be in a place that’s so lifeless and cold on Christmas Eve. This night is supposed to be all about joy and celebrations! But there’s no one here and I really doubt there is going to be anyone here. They shouldn’t be forcing you to stay open and work the desk all night.”

Miles shifted slightly behind the desk. “It's not so bad. I mean, what else was I going to do \anyway? It’s either sitting back in my closet or sitting out here. At least here I can watch the snow.” You both turned to gaze out the front door. It was snowing, but it was almost impossible to see anything beyond the first few feet outside the door. Miles turned his attention back to you. “Anyway, now that you finished the rooms, I guess you’ll be heading home for the night?”

“And leave you here all by yourself for Christmas? Never! I’m going to stay and keep you company.”

Miles felt his face turning bright red. “Y-you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to spoil your holiday.”

“First of all, you aren’t doing anything. It’s our horrible bosses that are being complete Scrooges. And second of all, I want to stay. You’re my best friend, Miles. Who else would I want to spend this night with?”

Best friend. The words both simultaneously stung and made his heart soar. You were also his best friend, the only person left in this world whom he cared about. But that was the problem: he cared too much. He didn’t want to be just your friend, he wanted to be more. Yet, Miles was terrified of telling you how he felt and ruining the relationship you had if you didn’t feel the same. What if you decided to leave the El Royale because of it? It was a chance he hadn’t been willing to take up to this point, and he often wondered if he ever would.

Clearing his throat, Miles asked, “Well, how should we pass the time?”

“Why don’t we see if any holiday movies are playing? Something to get up more into the spirit of the season.”

Reaching around him, you turned on the old television set that was sitting on the end of the check-in desk. The black-and-white picture flickered to life, the image grainy and hard to make out on the small set. But you didn’t seem to mind as you flipped between the three channels trying to decide which station to remain on.

Suddenly, your face lit up as you recognized the movie currently playing. “Oh! This was my favorite Christmas movie as a kid. My sister and I would watch it together every year.”

“What is it?” Miles asked as he strained to decipher the fuzzy images on the screen.

Your head jerked up in surprise. “What is it? You’ve never seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ before?”

Miles shrugged apologetically. “No, sorry.”

“It’s such a great film! It’s about this guy who is about to kill himself on Christmas Eve and–”

“Wait, what?” Miles asked in disbelief. “It’s a Christmas movie about a guy killing himself? And you watched it as a kid?”

“Well, he doesn’t kill himself. He’s just about to when an angel stops him and shows him how important and loved he is to those around him.” Miles continued to stare at you, his face scrunched in confusion. You sighed. “Just give it a try! I know you’re gonna love it!”

You quickly filled him in on what had happened in the movie up to this point, and then fell silent as you both watched. The movie seemed interesting enough and Miles could see why you liked it, however, he couldn’t stay focused on it. Instead, his eyes kept sliding to your face. Illuminated by the soft glow of the screen, you seemed transfixed by the images playing there. Your eyes sparked with joy as every once and a while your lips moved as you silently recited the dialogue from memory. Miles couldn’t remember a time when he had seen you this happy.

People didn’t end up in a place like the El Royale because everything was going perfectly in their lives. You both had had your hardships and burdens that you still haunted to this day though neither of you ever talked about your past or lives before the hotel. You didn’t have to to know the other was burdened by your past. A broken soul recognized another broken soul. And yet, the horrors Miles had endured never seemed as dark when you were around. His nightmares were never as horrible and his tremors were never as bad after spending the day with you. And he hoped that in some small way, his presence helped you too. But nothing he had ever done made you look like you did right now.

As the movie reached the end, tears began to well up in your eyes. Hesitantly, Miles reached out and placed his hand on your arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

You turned and smiled at him. “Oh, yes. This part always gets to me. It’s just nice to be reminded that people can be generous and kind, you know? That in times of trouble, people will step up and be there for one another.” Suddenly, your face fell and your lip began to tremble. “But I guess…. I guess that’s just something that happens in movies, huh?”

Miles glanced at the screen where a crowd of people were gathered round the lead character and everyone was singing. Dipping his head and swallowing heavily before looking back up at you, he said, “I know I’m just one man and not a town full of people, but I’m here for you. For anything you need, just say the word and I’ll be there.”

Your lip still quivered slightly, but some of the light returned to your eyes. Brushing one of his curls off of his face, you said, “I know you are, Miles. Just like I’m here for you too. We may not have a town of people, but we have each other. And that is more than a girl could ever wish for.”

It was the push that Miles had always needed to make a move. Something in the way you gazed at him, the tone of your voice, the way your fingers brushed his skin. There was something different that told him this was his chance. Cupping your face in his hands, Miles leaned his head in towards yours, and to his delight, you leaned in to meet him.

Just as his lips were about to brush against yours, the door to the lobby swung open. Both you and Miles jumped apart, startled, as a man stumbled in covered in snow. Seeing the two of you, he released a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank God! My car broke down a few miles from here and I’ve been trying to find anyone still open. I was just about to give up and head back to sleep in my car when I saw your lights. Please tell me you have a room available?”

You gazed longingly at Miles for just another second before turning to the man with a smile. “Why, yes, we do. All of our rooms are currently available so you can have your choice of where to stay. Then tomorrow morning we can try to find someone to take a look at your car. Or Miles here can at least drive you into town.”

Hurrying across the room, you added, “And don’t worry about the snow. I’ll clean it up in a jiffy. But first, why don’t you get all checked in and I’ll make you a nice, hot cup of coffee free of charge. After all, it’s Christmas and you look like you could do with some warming up.”

“That sounds incredible. Thank you.” He turned towards Miles who had returned to the desk. “Thank you both. I’m so lucky to have found a place with such kind people. Most folks wouldn’t bother going to all this trouble for a stranger in need.”

“It’s no problem, sir. We all need a little help sometimes. Now, let’s get you checked in.”

As Miles was having the man sign the book and getting him his key, you returned to the desk with a fresh towel to help the man soak up some of the snow still on his clothes. He apologized for the mess he made, but you cheerily told him it was no trouble. Miles watched as you hurried back to where the coffee had just finished brewing. He was so distracted that his hand knocked over the bell that was sitting on the desk, causing it to clatter to the floor with a loud ring.

As he picked it up, the man chuckled. “Hey, you know what they say… Somewhere out there, an angel just got its wings.”

Looking back at you, fluttering around the room as you put the finishing touches on the man’s drink, Miles couldn’t help but smile.

Taglist:@nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #favorite holiday movies #fic #miles miller #miles miller x reader #miles miller x you #bad times at the el royale #lewis pullman #fluff #christmas

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 years

Text

Open on Christmas

Winter Whumperland 2022: Day 12. Favorite Holiday Movie

Fandom: Bad Times at the El Royale, Miles Miller, f!reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and the El Royale is without a single guest. However, Miles is still forced to work all night. Luckily, you are there to keep him company.

TW: Fluff, Almost Kiss, Vague Mentions of Past Trauma

Notes: This fic will make more sense if you have seen the movie "It's a Wonderful Life". Thanks to @mayhem24-7forever for the idea! I love you! 💖

As you closed the door, you smiled at him. “Thanks. That darn thing is going to be the death of me one of these days. I almost broke my toe kicking it in frustration.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you push it for you on your rounds,” he said as the two of you reentered the lobby.

Miles shook his head. “It doesn’t seem right they made you do that, but as you know, what the bosses want–”

Miles shifted slightly behind the desk. “It's not so bad. I mean, what else was I going to do anyway? It’s either sitting back in my closet or sitting out here. At least here I can watch the snow.” You both turned to gaze out the front door. It was snowing, but it was almost impossible to see anything beyond the first few feet outside the door. Miles turned his attention back to you. “Anyway, now that you finished the rooms, I guess you’ll be heading home for the night?”

“And leave you here all by yourself for Christmas? Never! I’m going to stay and keep you company.”

Miles felt his face turning bright red. “Y-you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to spoil your holiday.”

Clearing throat, Miles asked, “Well, how should we pass the time?”

“Why don’t we see if any holiday movies are playing? Something to get up more into the spirit of the season.”

Suddenly, your face lit up as you recognized the movie currently playing. “Oh! This was my favorite Christmas movie as a kid. My sister and I would watch it together every year.”

“What is it?” Miles asked as he strained to decipher the fuzzy images on the screen.

Your head jerked up in surprise. “What is it? You’ve never seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ before?”

Miles shrugged apologetically. “No, sorry.”

“It’s such a great film! It’s about this guy who is about to kill himself on Christmas Eve and–”

“Wait, what?” Miles asked in disbelief. “It’s a Christmas movie about a guy killing himself? And you watched it as a kid?”

As the movie reached the end, tears began to well up in your eyes. Hesitantly, Miles reached out and placed his hand on your arm. “Hey, are you okay?”

“It’s no problem, sir. We all need a little help sometimes. Now, let’s get you checked in.”

As he picked it up, the man chuckled. “Hey, you know what they say… Somewhere out there, an angel just got its wings.”

Looking back at you, fluttering around the room as you put the finishing touches on the man’s drink, Miles couldn’t help but smile.

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @hederasgarden, @callsign-phoenix, @lt-natrace, @wildbornsiren, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @basiccortez

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #favorite holiday movies #fic #miles miller #miles miller x reader #miles miller x you #bad times at the el royale #lewis pullman #fluff #christmas

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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

#ethan torchio #maneskin #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio fiction #ethan tochio x you #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin fiction #fluff #my writings

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

Atlantis 12

Previously on Atlantis

They thought they’d beat out the rain, but it still sprinkled and fell, no longer a tempest, but rather the standard, run of the mill summer storms. It took hours for it to reach a subdued state, and it took just as long for the occupants of room 28W to collapse with just as much exhaustion as the thunder. Even out of breath and worn out beyond anything she’d been before, Lexa trailed fingertips along the naked skin of Clarke’s thigh and hip. She was merely regaining some energy to consume Clarke again. She liked to do that. She needed to do that.

The body in her arms adjusted, tucking itself tighter against the hero’s chest, and Lexa kissed the top of Clarke’s head, her nose digging into the somewhat damp scalp with the floral shampoo left in the shower.

“That was a pretty elaborate plan, to get me to bed you, Doc,” Lexa whispered.

She couldn’t sit still, moving fingertips up and down the protrusions of Clarke’s spine. It was summer, but the radiator hummed and sputtered, drying their clothes haphazardly against the wall. The sheets hung low on hips, entirely unneeded. There was sweat, and a dew-like sheen to the scientist’s skin. Lexa felt proud of it. A chin shifted against her chest and a nose wiggled against her collarbone.

“I never had a plan.”

“A storm for the ages, a long hike, the last room available,” the princess disagreed, teasing her. “You pulled out all of the stops, when all you really had to do was grab me by the shirt and tell me to take you. I was more than willing.”

“You really know how to ruin a moment.”

“I’ve never had moments,” she shrugged, earning a look as Clarke pulled away from burrowing into her neck. “Not until you. I think I’ve had a hundred since you appeared.”

“How, if you’re ruining them?”

Clarke propped herself up, tugging a pillow and staring at the girl in the tiny bed with her. Their legs were tangled. She was damp, again, but didn’t mind as much.

Lexa’s eyes were green, like the woods must look now, after the rain-- a deep emerald kind of green, rimming the wide pupils, dilated in the near darkness of the singular light that kicked back on and the somewhat sunrise that must have been inevitably starting. Her hair was nearly dry, huge and wavy, a mess in all directions. She had her father’s jaw, and Clarke wasn’t sure how she missed it before. So she touched it now, because how could she not. She twisted Lexa’s smile around, looking at her in different angles.

“The moment you woke up in Atlantis. The one where you didn’t have a shirt on and you blushed. The one in the gardens. The one when I was saying goodbye-- and you squeezed by hand. The moment you saw me in the Spindrift. It was late and you weren’t sure I was really there. When you handed me chamomile to eat on the trail. When you held my wrist in the lobby last night.”

“No where close to a hundred,” Clarke reminded her.

Lexa felt Clarke’s fingers tangling with the chain that hung low around her neck, the crest of her family stamped, ancient and important there, the trident rubbed clean from Lexa’s anxious tick on occasion.

“I’d like to keep the rest, if that’s okay?”

“You keep lifting me up and tossing me around, and you can do whatever you want.”

With a sigh, Clarke leaned to her back, collapsing on the sheets with a smile on her lips and her eyes shut, a big stretch emerging from her toes to her fingertips. Lexa smiled and watched-- another moment, if she had any say about it. She pressed her hand against Clarke’s chest and rubbed there slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

“You haven’t been on land that much,” Clarke shrugged, amused by the compliment, easily dismissing it.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Not believing me when I say something.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

Try as she wanted, Clarke couldn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to be tugged back to Lexa’s chest, her hand resting over her heartbeat.

“I don’t know if I��ve ever been this happy or done anything so reckless,” Clarke whispered. “It’s easier to just…” There was a heavy sigh to finish the thought. It said more than any word she could think of.

“I’m reckless?”

“Yes. And it’s one of my favorite things about you-- how you just throw yourself, full body, full force, into whatever is in front of you.”

“Including you.”

“Including me,” she nodded. “You came in and are so genuine and giving and trusting, and I’m terrified of letting someone like you have that-- all of me.”

Lexa furrowed and pressed her hand over Clarke’s, holding it to her chest. She took a deep breath and chased her eyes, eager to hold them.

“I’ll wait.”

It was simple and honest and Clarke furrowed even harder at the notion. Lexa lifted her palm, kissing it before placing it back where it belonged. Nonchalant wasn’t even good enough to describe how easily she said it.

“What?”

“For you to believe me, to trust me. I can wait. I’m patient. I can be safe for you. And I’ll just wait until you are ready.”

“I don’t know how.”

“That’s okay. I can wait,” she reiterated, firm and adamant. “But you said I shouldn’t wait to kiss you ever again. And I’m not.”

Clarke smiled because if she didn’t she was going to cry. She wasn’t one to cry too often, and there felt like a swell of tears prepared to emerge at any moment. Everything about the princess was cathartic and felt right. She tugged on the chain again and kissed Lexa softly, leaning into hit, pushing herself atop her.

“You don’t have a mermaid back home waiting for you?”

There were thighs around her hips now, and Lexa held them there, the sheet falling as the blue-hued expanse of Clarke’s naked body hovered there. She took a second to answer because Clarke adjusted her hair, tossing it over a shoulder, stretching her ribs and grinding her center into Lexa’s.

“No. No one.”

“How?”

“There were… there was the occasional… I had fun. I just never--” Her face contorted as she tried to figure out what to say, but instead took a deep breath. “How could I be with someone if I didn’t know who I was?”

“And now you know?”

“I’m figuring it out. But for the first time in my life, I figured out that I only want to be someone you like.”

“And I like who you are now.”

“A very foreign concept to me,” Lexa smiled softly. “I feel… better. Like I feel better here. I feel like I can breathe without the crown and the palace and the duty. I never knew I was drowning.”

Thoughtfully, Clarke braced herself on Lexa’s ribs and listened. She rubbed her thumbs on the soft skin beneath her breast. She knew how hard it was to be honest, to admit such things, things no one else might want to know.

“So no girls then?” she grinned.

“I might have made my way through some,” she shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone have certain needs?”

“I imagine you had quiet the harem.”

“Not quite.”

The guilty look on her face made Clarke shake her head. She grabbed the wrists of the hands holding her and pinned them to the bed. A bicep flexed, reminding her how easily the girl she was holding could escape. It just made Clarke push her harder into the bed.

“And you?”

“A serious boyfriend I broke up with a few years ago. A few dates since. I kind of got obsessed with my work.”

“Now I sound like a halktikes.” She earned a quirked eyebrow. “Someone who... enjoys the company of others in a sexual way… a few times, but never more than just sex..”

“Didn’t you?”

“Yes, but not with ill-intent.”

“Ah,” Clarke chuckled. “A fuckboy with a conscious.” This time Lexa cocked her head. “Someone who does what you did-- hooking up and not looking for something serious- a fuckboy, but with a heart.”

“I wasn’t not looking for something serious,” Lexa admonished. “Just didn’t find it. I never felt… felt... “ she took a deep breath. “I never felt like when I saw you for the first time.”

“Bleeding and drowning?” Clarke scoffed.

“Yes.”

Lexa was serious. Clarke knew it. But she couldn’t hear things like that, so she leaned forward and kissed the girl now completely under her command, at least in her head. Wrists pinned beside her head, Lexa’s body relaxed at the contact before her hips shifted upward, earning a purr.

“You’re letting me hold you down.”

“Yes.”

“At any point you could just pick me up and move your hands like it was nothing.”

“Mhm,” Lexa nodded, lifting only her head to chase Clarke’s lips.

“Did you never do that for anyone else?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

“I trust you. I like looking at you. You’re the first to try.”

“No one was brave enough to conquer the princess?”

Lexa just shook her head. Her chest felt like it was on fire, and suddenly she didn’t want to ever say another word, just do what Clarke suggested, just flip her over and take her again. She wanted nails in her back and teeth on her shoulder. But she didn’t. She let Clarke have her fun. She let herself be at her mercy.

“I don’t know if you’ve conquered me,” Lexa whispered. “I’ve surrendered quite willingly to anything you might want from me.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“That’s okay. Have it all.”

Again with the honesty, so brutal, it knocked the air from Clarke’s lungs. But she didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t, and so she ignored the meaning and took it for just this moment, just this bed, just this motel room, and she bit Lexa’s neck before sucking there, earning a sigh and moving hips again.

“Am I better than all of those other girls?”

It was a moment of weakness, perhaps inexperience or at least perceived as such. Clarke hadn’t thought to compare, but now she realized she was fucking a princess who undoubtedly had her pick of the kingdom. A concept that she never thought to consider in her life.

“No contest. I’ve never wanted anyone like how I want you,” Lexa promised. “I have this hole, it feels like. And I am never satisfied. I see you, and I want to drop everything and just follow you around and listen to you talk and touch you. I’m afraid it’s only going to be worse now that I know…”

“Know what?” Clarke softened her grip.

She had long eyelashes. Beautiful eyelashes. Clarke studied them.

“How you feel, taste, sound like.”

Oh. Clarke swallowed, feeling a tingle race across her entire body. She shivered and felt Lexa’s skin prickle.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t just say things…”

“Like?”

“Anything, ever again. Just-- no more talking,” Clarke decided, earning a smirk.

She was done. She didn’t want to hear the perfect words or the outright earnestness ever again. She couldn’t. She might start to believe it. There wasn’t time for such things. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed the girl she’d pinned again, reassuring her control, and potentially an unearned ownership she might have wanted.

But Lexa let her. She wasn’t going to do anything else. She wasn’t here to push. Clarke truly was like breathing, and she came naturally to the princess, almost intrinsic, instinctual. Lexa could be all of those things Clarke needed without even trying.

But then Clarke bit her jaw and kissed her nipple and paused, playing there, toying, her thigh not enough friction. And Lexa couldn’t just wait for such things. She didn’t want to wait. But when she moved her hands, Clarke stopped and looked up at her.

“You’re killing me,” Lexa begged.

“I want this.”

With a sigh, the princess collapsed back in the bed. She really would give the scientist anything she wanted.

Halfway out of her mind a few minutes later as Clarke took her time moving lower, a banging on the door made them both jump. Finally between the princess’ thighs, Clarke looked up, hair half falling across her face before looking at the door. The clock was useless, blinking 4:21, obviously not working after the storm knocked out the power.

Lexa furrowed and waited for another noise, she motioned for Clarke to keep quiet, her hands finally freed. Softly, she moved from the bed, pulled on someone’s shorts and someone’s shirt, and grabbed Clarke’s pocket knife from the desk, silently waiting near the door when another knock came.

“Ms. Curry, I’ve been asked to escort you, as your expertise is needed for a very sensitive matter.”

Holding up her hand to tell Clarke not to move, she peered through the peephole to find a mildly annoyed looking older gentleman, his accent unfamiliar to her, a raincoat hiding any clothes to give an indication as to who he might be. She flipped the small knife and held it near the lock.

“Who are you?”

On the bed, Clarke held the sheet up to her chin, she knelt near the headboard.

“My name is Alfred. I was asked by my employer to fetch you.”

“Who’s that?”

“He said you would need to see this,” he muttered, rummaging through a pocket before holding a ring with a seal of her father on it.

“Where did you get that,” she flung open the door in an instant.

“As I’ve stated, my employer--” He was shoved against the door in a second, snapping a hinge, Lexa holding him up by the shirt collar. “Bloody hell, you’re just like him,” he grumbled.

But she didn’t budge or let him move, his feet dangling there. It was still raining, the droplets dripped onto the ancient carpet from his coat.

“Gods above and below, Lex, you beat up old men now?”

She didn’t move her head, but she let him drop to the ground a second later. It was a long lost voice. The kind she hadn’t thought to remember in quite a while. It certainly wasn’t unwelcomed.

“Donna?”

Even from the bed, Clarke felt her eyes grow wide as what felt like the second god she’d met in her life appeared. Hair so brown, it was near black, perfectly wavy, perfectly coiffed, her face was round, a soft heart-shape to it. Her smirk was cocky, her arms crossed in the leather jacket she was wearing, practical tailor made for her. Her jeans were tight, painted there.

“I’m not that old,” the gentleman corrected, straightening his coat. He took back the ring from Lexa’s frozen hand.

“What in the depths are you doing here? How did-- What?”

“You look like shit.”

“It’s been a long night,” Lexa shrugged. The shirt she’d grabbed was Clarke’s, and clearly two sizes too small. The shorts hung low, too big and lopsided from the gift shop. Her friend hugged her quickly and she squeezed back just as tight. It’d been a long time, and again, a friendly face was not unwelcomed in the slightest.

Donna shifted only to look over her shoulder and grin as she met Clarke’s eyes, nodding appreciatively before Lexa shifted, blocking the view.

“You’ve only been here for a month. Look at you go, blowhole.”

“Don’t call me-- What the hell are you doing here? You’re off the island?”

“It’s complicated.”

“We need to leave,” Alfred interrupted the reunion.

“Give me a second.”

With a nod, he turned to the girl in the bed.

“Your car is here in the parking lot. Topped off the gas, as it were. Be mindful of the trip back, as the bridge has washed out on route 5.”

And as weirdly as he came, he disappeared from her view, still adjusting his clothes from the tumble he’d taken at the hands of the princess.

“I need your help on something,” Donna sighed. “Rather, a group of us need your help on something.”

It clicked then. Clarke’s eyes went wider han before because of course, Wonder Girl was standing there, perfectly coiffed and beautiful, recruiting her girlf-- her-- recruiting Lexa for something. Clarke regretted thinking that it could have waited twenty-minutes until she was finished, because it might have actually been life or death.

“Didn’t want to bother you if I didn’t have to, but there’s something happening that I think you can help with.”

Lexa looked down at her outfit and finally back at the girl in the bed.

“Alfred already has your gear in the car.”

“How?”

“I have a lot to catch you up on. I’ve been networking the past few years and I have a few people you might want to meet.”

“I don’t think--” Lexa searched Clarke’s face before earning a small, hopeful nod. “Can I have like two minutes?”

“Seems you might have some stuff to catch me up on, too,” Donna wiggled her eyebrows and grinned again.

Clarke was sick of it. You shouldn’t be able to look like that and smirk like that and be a fucking god. It was excruciatingly unfair.

“I might,” Lexa nodded. “Lasso-twirling asshole.”

She smiled as she said it, hugging her friend again.

“Make it quick. We really are behind schedule, you know, to potentially save the entire west coast.”

“Right.”

Lexa didn’t close the door, just stood there when they were left to their own devices. It was quiet enough that she could hear the rain puttering outside, so much gentler than the night before. Clarke stared at her still, sheet pulled around her chest, legs tucked under her.

“You have to go,” Clarke offered. She watched as Lexa looked back at the door and scratched the back of her neck.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

“Your loss, I was just getting started.”

“Don’t I know it,” she blew out a raspberry, her lips puttering in frustration. “I’m sorry, I never would have-- for Donna to-- Well, I guess… what I mean is.”

“It’s okay,” the scientist promised.

“You have no idea how much I don’t want to go.”

“I kind of do.”

They shared a small smile. Lexa wasn’t sure what to do next, just that she had to hurry, and suddenly she was afraid to leave the room. If she left, what would change? Something would, and she wasn't sure what and the uncertainty didn’t work for her.

“You’ll get home okay?”

“Yeah, and I’m still going to stop at the diner to tell you how good it was, and how much you missed a great meal, galavanting off with an Amazonian or whatever.”

“And here I was afraid you didn’t have a plan.”

Clarke chuckled softly and sighed, unable to hide her disappoint for too long, unable to keep up with Lexa’s banter. A small part of her was worried strictly about whatever Lexa might be walking into. Clarke saw the news, and she knew what existed, and she knew that she couldn’t even imagine half of it.

“Be safe. I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Nothing could keep me away,” Lexa promised, hand resting on her diaphragm. “You’ll let me make it up to you?”

“I might. If you’re quick about it.”

“I can be quick,” the princess nodded. “It’s a date.”

“A date,” Clarke agreed.

Only then did the smile return, the easy one, the one Clarke was beginning to recognize on Lexa as breathing. She finally moved, walking the few steps back toward the bed where she leaned down and lifted Clarke’s chin to kiss her.

A car horn honked outside, rushing them along. Lexa stood up slightly. She tugged the thin chain from around her neck over her head and careful placed it over Clarke’s.

“I don’t know how long this might take. But think of me, sometimes?”

“You too.”

Clarke held the crest, the size of a saint, between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing it tightly. Lexa gave her a final smile before kissing her cheek and finally moving toward the door.

“A date,” she called again from the door before closing it.

Clarke chuckled and sunk into the bed, her legs spreading out longer now that there wasn’t an audience. When the door finally clicked shut after some careful maneuvering after the damage, it was quiet. The radiator still hissed. The rain still pattered. And all that was left was the smell of hotel shampoo and Lexa on the sheets. Clarke toyed with the charm, holding in in front of her face and rubbing her thumb along it.

“Donna of fucking Troy,” she groaned, covering her head with a pillow after she let the charm drop to her chest.

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Fire and Ice Day for @nessianweek Yes, I just wanted an excuse to write more hockey player Cassian. No, I will not be taking criticisms at this time. Follow up to this drabble. Hope you enjoy! :)

Nesta steps out of the English building, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, winter air. The lecture hall had been stifling, and the way Professor Matthews had droned on and on about Chekhov had her desperate for the class to end. She cuts across the Commons, heading toward the library, when she hears heavy footsteps fall in beside her. She doesn't need to look to know who they belong to.

"So about that dinner," Cassian starts.

"I don't actually recall agreeing to it."

"Well, how else am I supposed to thank you for being there in my time of concussion need?"

"You don't need to thank me. Maybe I was just hoping to see if a good thwack to your head would finally fix it. Clearly, it didn't."

"Sadly, all it did was make my two working brain cells become just one," Cassian says, putting on his best solemn tone.

The comment pulls a surprised laugh out of Nesta, and when she turns her head to look at Cassian, his smile is wide and his eyes are bright. She swears she can almost see pride swimming in those flecks of gold that make up his hazel eyes.

"So what time should I pick you up?"

Nesta doesn't respond. She merely rolls her eyes with a scoff and continues toward the library. That is until Cassian uses his long strides to step in front of her, effectively cutting her path off.

"What do you have to lose?"

"My sanity?"

"So 6:00 then?"

Nesta takes a moment to take Cassian in. He still has that cocky grin that never seems to leave splashed across his face. But she doesn't miss the way he fidgets, running a hand through his tangle of dark curls, nor does she miss the nervous pinch around his eyes. She supposes she could go for a good meal, and while Cassian most definitely gets under her skin, he's not the worst company.

"I have to meet with my group for our psychology project. 7:00?"

"Deal."

The smile on Cassian's face pulls even wider, and Nesta's pretty sure the only thing keeping him from actually cheering is the way he clenches his fists at his side. It's endearing, and Nesta bites the inside of her cheek to keep her own smile tampered down.

"Well, see you then," Nesta says, starting back toward her original destination of the library.

"Wear something nice, yeah?" Cassian calls after her.

Nesta flips him off over her shoulder at the comment, and Cassian's booming laughter follows her all the way across the Commons.

Luckily, meeting with the students in her group project isn't too migraine inducing. They divvy up the work and all agree on who will take which slides. When she makes it back to her dorm, she pulls a black dress out and gets started on her makeup.

At 7:00 on the dot, there's a knock at her door. She quickly slips on her heels before pulling it open, Cassian waiting on the other side. The way that Cassian's mouth drops open and the awed way he whispers, "holy shit," has a blush creeping in and settling on Nesta's cheeks.

"You clean up nice," she notes.

And he does. Cassian has on a button down, the sleeves rolled up slightly, the tanned skin of his forearms and the ink that swirls against it on full display. Both the shirt and the black slacks he's wearing are form fitting, showing off the athletic cut to his body, years of skating having done wonders for honing the muscles. And while Cassian's dark curls are loose against his shoulders, Nesta can tell he's put product in it.

Nesta waits for Cassian to make some sort of quip back after her comment, maybe for him to even comment on her, but he just continues to stare like he can't believe she's actually real. She tries not to focus on the fact that look has her heart beating double time in her chest, or the fact that warmth settles through her whole body. Instead, Nesta just rolls her eyes and steps fully into the hall, closing her door behind her. The sound seems to jolt Cassian back to reality, who blinks hard before his eyes focus properly on Nesta's own.

"Wait," he says. "Bring your skates."

"My skates?" Nesta asks confusedly. "I thought we were going to dinner?"

"We are, but bring them."

"Why?"

"Just bring them."

Nesta sighs, clearly not getting a straight answer out of him. But she heads back inside, stuffing a heavy pair of socks into her skates. She steps into the hall, skates in hand, and raises a pointed eyebrow as if to ask, 'happy?' Cassian's just answers with a wide grin.

Cassian leads Nesta down to his truck, and she's surprised when he drives them to one of the higher end chophouses downtown. Dinner is good and the conversation flows easily between them. Cassian even asks Nesta about her current book and actually looks genuinely interested as she explains it. Although, his smirk is infuriating as she tries to subtly skip over the more… scandalous parts.

After dinner, they clamber back into Cassian's truck, and Nesta's brow pinches in confusion as they pull into the rink parking lot. This explains the skate request. When Nesta looks over at Cassian, his eyes are already on her. Under the yellow glow of the parking lot lights, his eyes look extra golden, but Nesta doesn't miss the mischievous glint swimming in them.

"I'm not exactly dressed for skating," Nesta points out, glancing down at her dress as if to prove her point.

"Says who?"

"I'm serious."

Rather than respond, Cassian just reaches back into the backseat of his truck, producing one of the hockey team sweatshirts, which he holds out toward Nesta. Nesta hesitates for only a moment before she's pulling it on over her dress. It's clearly too big on her, but the fabric is soft and the scent of fabric softener and Cassian fills her senses.

When they get inside, the Friday night public skate is still in full swing, families and awkward high school dates milling about on the ice and in the lobby. In their attire, Nesta is sure that she and Cassian must stick out like sore thumbs. They walk up to the reception desk, and Nesta expects Cassian to ask for two passes for the public skate, but instead he and the rink staffer share a pointed look and then a key is being slid inconspicuously into Cassian's hand. Before Nesta can even start to ask what that means, Cassian is grabbing her hand, pulling her down the hall, past the locker rooms and snack bar. His eyes quickly dart around before he slides the key into the right side of the double doors, tugging Nesta inside and flipping on the lights.

"The tiny-ass practice rink?" Nesta asks, looking around.

"Bal owes me a favor," Cassian explains, pocketing the key.

Cassian grabs Nesta's hand again and leads her around to the benches. They each take their time trading their shoes for skates before stepping out onto the ice.

There's something about the way ice feels under her feet that calms Nesta in a way nothing else can. The cutting sound of her skates against it is like music to her ears. She glides easily to center ice, taking a deep breath and letting the cold welcome her into its embrace. She feels Cassian's presence behind her, warm hands settling on her hips.

"You know you look better in this sweatshirt than I ever did," he says, voice pitched low.

"Sounds like a personal problem," Nesta counters, turning around to face Cassian. "It's not my fault even hockey things look better on figure skaters."

"Big words coming from someone who needs a toe pick to stop."

"That's not what a toe pick is for."

"How about a race then? To settle things."

"Fine."

They both skate over to the goal line, getting into their starting positions. Cassian counts them in with a ‘ready, set, go,’ and then they’re off, sprinting down the ice. Nesta’s hair whips past her face, the cool rink air rushing along her cheeks, as she pushes her legs to go faster and faster still. Cassian crosses the other goal line first, an icy spray flying up as he stops hard before the boards. Nesta stops beside him, crossing her arms as she takes in his wide smirk.

"You totally cheated."

"What? I did not."

"You have longer legs. It's an unfair advantage."

"Sounds like excuses to me. Just admit it. Hockey players are better."

"Are they? Could a hockey player do this?"

Nesta pushes off the boards and settles easily into her stride. A swing of her leg and a push of her foot and she's up in the air, pulling her arms in tight as she twists and twists around. Her feet land back on the ice and she glides out of the move gracefully. When her eyes land back on Cassian, his own are wide and awed as he watches her. But then his eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest.

“Who’s cheating now?”

“Fine. Something simple then.”

Nesta jumps and does a single twist, holding her arms out when she lands and raising an eyebrow toward Cassian in challenge. His eyes stay narrowed on her, but he pushes off the boards, settling into a stride toward center ice.

“How hard can it be,” Cassian mutters.

Cassian skates a few circles, clearly trying to walk himself through the move, trying to hype himself up. Nesta has to bite the inside of her cheek while she waits. After a few moments, he throws himself into the air, spinning around once. His skates land back on the ice, and for a moment, Nesta is about to be impressed, but then his left foot is slipping out from under him. He falls ass-first onto the ice with a loud ‘oof.’

Nesta can’t help the loud laugh that tears its way out of her chest. She tries to press a hand to her mouth to stifle it, but her whole body shakes with it. When she finally calms down and finds Cassian's stare again, his face is marred with an unimpressed frown.

“I’m so glad my pain brings you joy,” Cassian says sarcastically before holding his arms up toward her. “Aren’t you going to help me up?”

“No.”

Nesta realizes she’s made a mistake. A slow smirk slides across Cassian’s face and even from across the rink, there’s no missing the mischievous glint in his eyes. Before Nesta can even blink, Cassian is on his feet and charging toward her across the ice. The rink is small with nowhere to go, so soon Nesta finds herself cornered back against the boards, Cassian’s arms bracketing her in on either side.

Cassian opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but it gets lost along the way, and instead he just stares. This close up, Nesta can see the greens hidden in his hazel eyes, the way they flicker under the rink lights. Cassian’s eyes drop down to her lips before settling back on her eyes, and Nesta’s heart does a little flip in her chest.

"Can I kiss you?"

"What if I say no?"

Cassian leans in closer, and Nesta can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips, is sure that he can feel the way the breath hitches in her throat.

"Say no, then," Cassian whispers.

The silence hangs between them for only a second before Cassian closes the distance, pressing his lips to Nesta’s. Nesta practically melts into it, pressing closer as their lips slot and slide against one another. One of Cassian’s hands comes up to bracket her jaw, his other arm wrapping securely around her waist. She can feel the way he sighs against her lips, the deep groan in his chest as the kiss deepens.

"Hey, why are the lights on back here?"

They break apart at the sudden voice, Cassian taking Nesta’s hand and tugging her down so they’re hidden behind the boards and out of sight. They can hear the footsteps of the rink staffer walking around, and Nesta turns to glare at Cassian.

"I swear, if we end up arrested because of you…"

"Don't worry. I'd never let that happen. We're both too pretty for jail."

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

arrière-pensée

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

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

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

word count: 8,550

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

kinktober day 4 main kink: robbery kink

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

Click.

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

Pre-work jitters were a normal thing, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were as ready as you could ever be.

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

It was time to work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Name: Fuwa Mawata Position: Greeter & Inspector.

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

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

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

What now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The second floor is loud.

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

Unexpectedly, Fuwa had been right.

This job had no downtime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Ground Zero.

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

BANG.

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

“Everybody get the fuck up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s over before you can blink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too much, too much, too much!

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

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

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

But that was enough for Ground Zero.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn extra?” Ground Zero shouts to Togeike.

“Y-Yes?”

“How much fucking longer?”

“I-It’s at 63%!”

“Wonderful.”

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

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

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

“How much?”

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

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

“W-What?!”

“Show her your cock.”

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

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

Then the world picked back up.

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

“Cute fucking thong.”

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

Ass up, back curved, chest down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer me, fucking whore.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta fucking make this little slut cum soon then, huh?” Ground Zero grinned, and you felt his teeth bare into the back of your neck in a flash of throbbing, burning pain.

You cried.

The angle and power behind these growing sloppy thrusts were different than what you were used to. It was deranged almost, your body shifting with each thrust, nearly toppling over as Ground Zero claimed you with his teeth and his cock. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, ringing moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you brought your arms as best you could to his waist to keep him there.

Sweat dripped down Ground Zero’s neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“Please — fuck — do that! Do that again, please!” you screamed when a vein in his cock dragged against your pulsating, puffy walls, at the same time he pushed against your cervix.

“Such—” thrust— “A—” thrust— “Fucking—” thrust— “Whore!” thrust! “Who do you fucking belong to?!”

“Y-You, Ground Zero!” you scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “I belong to you! I’m your fucking whore, please fill me with your cum! Cum in me, please cum in me!”

Ground Zero preens at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in his zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure now spilling over.

His cock twitched within you. It knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length, and you orgasm roughly, your body shaking and spasming uncontrollably as you scream his name. Ground Zero curses loudly, slamming into you one last time with the power and tenacity of an army as he lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came in you.

“Such a good slut,” Ground Zero grins as you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, physical and mental exhaustion now catching up with you. “Sleep now, I’m not done with you.”

You couldn’t gather the energy to speak back, your world blacking out with the sounds of sobs, screams, and more gunshots.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You wake up in a car.

The warm, gentle wind caressing your face as the world is quiet. It's calm, pleasant, pleasing. Your pink wig is on your knees, slightly ruined with blood, sweat, tears, and drool.

You sigh, your body throbbing with different pain as you look to your right at who’s driving.

It’s Ground Zero, or as you know him: Bakugou Katsuki.

His arms are covered now, the old black op outfit changed for a pair of black slacks and a red button-down shirt. You would have no idea he was the man who stormed into Yaoyorozu Bankings earlier that day.

“Good morning,” you sigh, reaching against the seat to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Bakugou looks at you with a smirk, reaching towards you for a real kiss as he continues to drive. You can tell you’re in comfortable clothes, ointment on any potentially worrisome wounds he had inflicted on you while wrapped up in your twisted fantasy of yours.

“Nice to see you up,” he gruffs, his voice rough from his overuse in the bank.

“Did we get it?” you ask, head pressing to his shoulder, and with a chuckle, he raised the black USB.

“Damn fucking right we did, y/n.”

“Perfect.”

It goes without saying that despite the sheer brilliance of Bakugou’s work as Ground Zero, he would have never pulled off such crimes without you. His pretty, small girlfriend, who always played a victim of his lust at his operations just for good measure. It was a fun life both of you lived.

You looked at the expensive Cartier watch on your wrist, a beautiful gift he had gotten you after your first successive robbery. It had also been programmed for you to communicate with Bakugou on how many guards there were on the floor.

“I love you.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

arrière-pensée: a concealed thought or intention; an ulterior motive.

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tags in comments, theres too many of you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bbs kinktober 2020 #bakugou katsuki x reader

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brown-little-robin · 2 years

Photo

You’re asking me to cripple him? Me?!

[a draft-preview of Clone Six. Subject to change.]

Thad Six is my dearly beloved clone. Created by a bored villain who just wanted to watch a speedster wreak havoc, Six will be an antagonist in Strange Redemption. He is capable of enormous destruction—and he indulges himself. He believes that life is a game where the most powerful people have the most fun. As Inertia, he taunts the Flash family, creating destruction in various places to draw their attention and running away before they got close enough to confront him, dodging into unrelated fights just to create chaos. He is a master at escaping unscathed, leaving only the echoes of mean-spirited laughter behind him.

It comes as a shock to him to have his speed stolen.

Six is no stranger to injury, but he can hardly breathe when he realizes that he’s going to have to clean out the gravel stuck in his cheek. It lodged there, stinging, in that final fight with his genetic double, and his cheek will not fully heal. Ever.

Nothing can compare to the sheer power of a speedster, the sizzle-crack of lightning in their veins. The golden light of the speed force is the shine in their eyes. The speed force, with the souls of the dead, sings and whispers in the back of their minds. Six will long for the speed force for the rest of his life.

He wakes up that night with his cheek stinging, tears dripping salt into the gashes on his cheeks. It’s dark.

Six wakes up at 1:54 AM in a strange purple-swathed room in the house of his genetic double, and he thinks: I can’t do this.

He runs away six days later. Runs, not on the air, not with the wind in his face, not with the speed of lightning, but on a stinking, humid, crowded bus to Gotham City. He is surrounded by tired people, human beings, the scum of the earth, sweaty, miserable creatures. He takes a pile of pages he printed at the library, which his oh-so-generous genetic double allowed him to visit. The papers advertise a meeting of magicians on the night of the solar eclipse. That was six days ago, mere hours after he had his life ripped out of him.

He goes to the site of the solar eclipse meeting and asks around. Three bars later, after being treated like some kind of idiot child and being forced to out himself as Inertia five times in order to get any leverage, he finds a magician still lingering in town after the solar eclipse event. The magician sends him to another magician, who sends him to a witch, who sends him to an honest-to-god wizard.

By the time he reaches the hotel lobby where the wizard is supposed to be, Six’s feet are sore. His ego is sore too.

He knows by now that he was never all that special. He’s past that. His genetic double stroked his hair while he vomited into the toilet, and then he talked him through the aftermath of losing his powers in his excruciatingly gentle way. He took Six’s verbal abuse calmly. And then he named him Six, and that pretty much killed what was left of Six’s idea that he was unique. But people kept laughing at him in the bars and it hurt.

The armpits of his black t-shirt, the one item from his genetic double’s closet that he would deign to wear, are sweaty. Six is dead on his feet. He keeps trying to pull energy from the speed force and finding nothing. Like trying to drink from an empty bottle.

Speaking of which, Six should have brought water. He can’t just steal things anymore.

Six sits down on a bench in the lobby and waits until the wizard comes out of his room.

The wizard looks very normal. Hooked nose. Greying hair. Dingy jeans. A single black earring. Six wouldn’t have recognized him if he hadn’t answered to “Mr. Marzhin” as he dropped off his keys at the lobby desk thing.

The wizard turns to the doors. Six intercepts him.

“Wizard Marzhin—”

“Don’t tell me,” the wizard says, sounding utterly bored. “You just lost everything.”

Six flushes. This guy thinks he’s entitled to drone you just lost everything like it’s the most cliche thing in the world—it’s been a horrible enough week already—

To his horror, he starts to cry.

The wizard sighs. And then Six feels the wizard’s arms wrap around him, hugging him close. Wizard Marzhin smells like damp wood and mushrooms. He is very strong.

“Well, boy,” he says. “I don’t suppose you lost everything around the time of the last solar eclipse?”

Six nods as best as he can.

“Well, I guess I’m stuck with you,” the wizard sighs.

Wizard Marzhin teleports Six somewhere deep in a forest while Six is busy crying into his chest. He also gives Six a bulky kind of jacket with a furry collar and a cup of some kind of spicy drink which Six strongly suspects was drugged. Six started seeing little blue lights, then immediately fell asleep in a confusion of warm robes and blankets.

Wizard Marzhin serves fish roasted over a fire for breakfast. Six accepts that. It’s not like Six can do anything about it. He’s not a speedster anymore. And being stuck in a forest in a weird wizard’s cabin is better than being stuck in that awful ornate house with his genetic double.

Wizard Marzhin is not talkative. He lets Six follow him like a lost puppy that day, but he doesn’t speak to him at all. He doesn’t speak when they leave the cabin. He doesn’t speak as he gathers berries and mushrooms into a basket. He doesn’t speak when he starts scaling a slope barely better than a cliff. He barely even speaks when Six cuts his hand on a spiky root and has to stop for a while, more because of terror at the way the blood keeps slowly welling up than because he couldn’t move. The wizard just stands there with him and waits until Six finds it in himself to stand up and keep following him until he reaches his mysterious destination.

The destination is a tree, where Wizard Marzhin spends some time talking to an owl about, of all things, the owl’s hunting habits. Just chatting. Six watches him sourly. He walks for upwards of an hour to talk to an owl and he won’t say more than five words to Six?

But that night, back at the cabin, sitting by the fire, the wizard says he’s going to teach Six, and Six forgets his resentment.

“What kind of magic?” Six asks, staring eagerly at the wizard. In this firelight, the wizard looks more like a proper wizard; his blue eyes have a kind of sparkle to them.

Wizard Marzhin says, “What are you?”

Six stares. The wizard’s crooked nose casts a sharp shadow that dances unceasingly on his face.

“Huh?”

“Do you know what “wizard” means, boy?”

“What?”

“Wise man.”

“Okay, so?”

“So answer the question or I won’t answer yours, smart-alec. What—are—you?”

Six frowns.

“I’m... a clone.”

“And what’s a clone?”

“Do you live under a rock?” Six asks, incredulous.

Wizard Marzhin snorts. “Just explain it.”

“A clone is a copy of another person.”

“A copy,” the wizard says thoughtfully. “Is that all you are?”

Six winces. It’s not... not true.

“Well, well. You don’t have much of a sense of your own identity. Which could be good, of course... not getting too caught up in the particulars of things, keeping your eyes on the flow of nature... but then again,” he says, and his eyes flash at Six in a menacing kind of way. “If you’re just a copy, you have no substance to you.”

“Shut up,” Six hisses. “I do so.”

The wizard stretches his boots nearer the fire, sighing. The firelight flickers on his face. Six watches him resentfully until he can’t bear the quiet anymore.

“So what if I don’t have a great sense of identity? I can still learn magic. I’m smart.”

“Smart, smart, smart,” the wizard scoffs. “Everyone’s smart. No one’s wise.”

“Well how am I supposed to be wise? No one ever taught me.”

“Well put, boy,” the wizard says. “How indeed? Well... well. You’re going to have a magic by the end of the day. No time for you to have wisdom by then, of course.”

“Oh,” Six says, absorbing that. He is tremendously relieved that he won’t be left powerless. A magic, he’ll have a magic of his own by the end of the day... “Do you know that I’ll have magic the same way you knew that I lost everything?”

“Mm.” The wizard stretches his arms above his head with a yawn. “Mhm... so, boy, what magic do you want to start with?”

“I get to choose?”

“You’ll choose the first one,” the wizard says. “Or be chosen, more like. And it will be special to you forever. But the rest will come... all of it. That’s the way of a druid.”

Six says, “I’m going to be a druid? Like a nature... wizard... whatever?”

“Oh yes. Yes, clone-boy, you’re going to be a druid.” Wizard Marzhin gives one of his sharp glances. “If you don’t let that hate in your heart eat you up like a rotten apple. Then you’ll be a stunted little sorcerer with too much power and no control and someone will have to kill you.”

Six grimaces.

“So what’s it to be?” the wizard asks. “Your first magic... the thing that calls to you... what is it for you?”

Six thinks about it. He wants to ask for lightning, or light, or maybe wind: something that could give him back a connection to the speed force. He wants it so badly. But he knows with complete surety that he is never going to see the speed force again.

Six remains silent for so long that the wizard says, “For me, it was a hawk.”

“I don’t care for animals,” Six says honestly.

The wizard makes a groaning noise. Six ignores him, thinking. If he’s going to have every nature magic eventually, then what does it matter which one he initially picks? Only how it affects Six himself. And Six... his only comfort now is...

“Darkness. I want the dark.”

“The dark, boy?” the wizard says softly. “Be careful, now. Ask for too much, and you’ll go mad.”

“Not the dark in general, then,” Six says, a little alarmed at the idea of somehow owning all of the dark. He couldn’t handle that much. “Just... shadows. Some shadows. To have.”

“Shadows,” the wizard repeats. “You’ll tie yourself to them forever, you know, boy. Half your soul will be in your shadow.”

Six nods. It sounds good.

“You’re certain?”

“I’m certain.”

A cold wind comes up, pushing the flames nearly sideways—away from Six. Six shivers and pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

His cloak?

He looks down at his hands. He is holding a thick fabric of shadow. The dark garment wraps around his neck and has a weight on his back, pools insubstantially around his waist and trails thinly into the grass at the edge of the fire. His hands and shoulders feel the shadows thick and heavy, but the shadows fade away behind him.

He stretches them experimentally, and the cloak spreads out across the ground, darker, darker; the fire becomes the one light in the black expanse of the night. He pulls the shadows back to him and runs them along his arms, feeling the weight of them, and then flips them backward to extend from his back, making wide wings like a black angel. He feels like he could fly, or slip into the shadows and disappear; he has a sudden awareness of every beam of light on his face making him stronger and bigger. He grows. He spreads. He becomes very dark.

Six comes back to himself suddenly. He remembers that he’s a human being with a name. He’s shivering.

His shadow is laughing.

He tucks his shadows underneath his jacket. When he looks up, Wizard Marzhin is smiling at him from across the fire.

Six doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to run cold for the rest of his life.

#this is a complete mess of a story & will decidedly Not be in the polished version of this story #but hey it was fun to write! and kept me going during a busy time.#Strange Redemption spoilers #The Strange Redemption of Thaddeus Thawne #I've been making clones picrews for fun :)#and one of them turned into a full-blown mini-chapter #soooo.... no chapter this week.#I need to take another two weeks to plan and write the next chapter because of Difficulties with Joseph's mom (WHY IS SHE SO HARD TO WRITE)#BUT there's this!#I wasn't expecting to have anything to publish this week #but this came to me last night so... here it is!!!#I do love Six.

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infernalrevenge · 3 years

Text

Hey, Kiss Me? (Don't Mind If I Do)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Daniela is used to being the flirty one, blowing kisses and making a pass at anyone who caught her attention. It just never occurred to her that the tables could turn on her.

Notes: [slams fists on the table] LET ME FLIRT WITH THE CUTE VAMPIRE GIRL. If RE8 had a dating sim spin-off in some alternate universe where Capcom REALLY wanted to capitalize on the game's success, one of my runs would definitely involve romancing the youngest Dimitrescu. For anyone else who feels me on this, this is for you too. I also tried writing this in 2nd person POV for a change. Hope it still turned out alright, it's my first time writing this way. Enjoy!

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You had been working for the Duke for quite a while now. He took you in in your time of need and had been made an apprentice of sorts in the art of trading and bargaining.

You've met your fair share of oddities while settled in the village and running errands, including but not limited to: A man who can control metal and electricity on a whim, a talking doll who lives under a waterfall, and the numerous wolf-man hybrids that lurked around the vicinity. They were what most may consider crass company -- at least, that was what the Lady of the castle would say.

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was a frequent customer and a business partner of the Duke's, helping her in the sale of her vintage "wine" to intrigued buyers. This also meant that the two of you were frequent visitors to the castle on the other side of the village proper -- a vast estate that was entirely too large for just four women to occupy (even if one of those women happened to be nine feet tall).

Miss Bela was always the more polite and civil of Dimitrescu's daughters, offering a simple greeting whenever you would come by. When it was appropriate, she was always at her mother's side and paying attention to how meetings between the older adults would proceed, like a student eager to learn from the best. You figured that, as the oldest sibling, she might take over the business someday. You weren't sure exactly how that would happen, given what you knew of the family, but you really shouldn't prod anyway. At least, not now.

Miss Cassandra was more closed off, so to speak. It always seemed like she would barely acknowledge your presence in the castle, talking only when it was necessary and immediately leaving the room once she was allowed to. However, you would feel a prickling in the back of their neck when she wasn't around, like you were being watched from the background -- prey at the mercy of their predator. But every time you turned around, there would be no one there, not even a sound to indicate escape. A part of you thought you might have been pulled into some unwitting game, wondering what would happen if you did catch the perpetrator in the act. You weren't sure you really wanted to find out.

Then, there was Miss Daniela, whose attention seemed to lie in... other prospects. Like Bela, she offered warm greetings whenever you would stop by the property. Unlike her sisters though, who never really bothered with the Duke's apprentice, she always tried to entertain herself with your company. You had a friendly enough rapport with her that you could relax in her presence as well, so it was nice. You figured it was mostly because they rarely ever got outside company, and since the sisters stay in the castle a lot of the time, she always welcomed you with enthusiasm. And a smile. And a wink. And some passing remark about how nicely you dressed that day and that you must have been trying to impress her.

"I could just eat you right up," she would say with a giggle and a playful growl.

You've never been too sure what to make of her -- she always seemed to have her head in the clouds, only coming back down at the behest of her mother or when her sisters were persistent enough. You also never knew how to respond to her flirting apart from flustered silence, which only seemed to spur her on even more. It was like she was just trying to get a reaction from you, making a game of it. It was far different from the one her older sister seemed to be keen on playing, but a game nonetheless -- how far could she push your buttons and make you implode from embarrassment?

Honestly, it seemed to be working.

You had been well-socialized thanks to your training under the Duke, and of course the man himself was charming and likeable so a part of you liked to think it may have rubbed off as he raised you. But that was when it came to formalities and negotiations -- maybe banter, if you could really push it. You've thought about responding earnestly, but flirting was another ball game all on its own, one that you don't really play on purpose, and you frequently found yourself floundering at the face of it. Especially when that face was as pretty as Daniela's.

It wasn't like you thought she liked you that way or anything -- you genuinely thought she said all those things for fun, to amuse herself with how hot you got or how you would sheepishly shrink in on yourself. But you weren't going to deny that she was cute and that you may have just a small crush on her. Just maybe. Not that you would ever admit that out loud.

----------

One winter day, the Duke entrusted you with meeting with Lady Dimitrescu on your own. She was informed of his absence beforehand -- something about attending to Lord Heisenberg's business -- and so you were left to take care of updates. In the meantime, you kept yourself busy in the guest area, perusing the dusty books in shelves that definitely needed some cleaning. It seemed like the castle could never have enough help.

As soon as you were left alone, with only your notepad and thoughts to keep you company, you felt the hairs at the back of your neck stand. You slowly looked to the side, eyes trained on a dark corner of the room. The light from the fireplace didn't quite reach that spot, making it quite the hiding place. Was something (or someone) moving from there? Are your eyes playing paranoid tricks on you? Was it Miss Cassandra playing her one-sided game again? Perhaps... you shouldn't interfere then.

You turned your attention back to the book shelf, looking high above you, wanting to take a closer look at the selection. You dragged a stool and a few stacked cushions to the shelves and slipped your shoes off, praying to whoever was out there that Lady Dimitrescu wouldn't find you like this. Oh, the scolding I'd get from Duke about manners -- you'd never hear the end of it. Stepping carefully onto the plush surface -- a few feet from the ground -- and finding your balance, you start to pick something out that had an interesting title.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Y/N," a voice echoed in the room, catching you off guard.

You jumped in surprise and lost your footing, falling backward as the cushions slipped from under you. Oh yeah, this was gonna hurt! But before you could make contact with the hardwood floor, a hand reached out and grabbed you by the waist, catching you in a rather precarious position.

"You could've hurt that cute little ass of yours," the voice cooed. Daniela seemed to have materialized from out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin and holding onto you as she practically hovered over you. Oh god, she was so close, you don't know where your body heat ended and hers started.

"Miss Daniela," you greeted, finally finding your voice. "Um, thanks for the save."

She pulled you up to standing on the stool and raised an eyebrow at you, smirking amusedly, "And what exactly were you doing so high up in the shelves? Aren't you supposed to be waiting here like a good little one?"

"I was just... looking at the books," you replied softly, "And falling for you, I suppose," you added as a joke, chuckling as you shook off your nerves from earlier. You were a little surprised she didn't start off with that line honestly, given how easy--

Daniela's smirk dropped at your response, eyes widening as she stiffened. Uh oh... did you say something wrong?

She blinked at you, mouth hanging open slightly as if she was trying to find the words. It looked like she gave up though, just looking away and stepping off the stool. Were you imagining that her cheeks just turned pink?

"Mother's waiting for you at the meeting room," was all she said before quickly making her exit.

It took a while before the wheels in your head started turning again.

----------

The next time you came to the castle with the Duke, it was a warm day in spring. On these occasions, sometimes Lady Dimitrescu would be more open to a different venue of meeting than inside the castle -- "for a change of scenery," as she would say. The two of you met her and her daughters at the main garden at the back of the property, the sun shining generously on all forms of life.

When Daniela spotted you, she seemed almost caught unaware, but she quickly regained composure, throwing a smirk and wink your way -- her usual greeting. You couldn't help but duck down shyly, but nonetheless waved and smiled back.

The older adults took their business elsewhere, leaving you alone with the daughters at the lobby; well, more like a daughter, since Cassandra had already left before you can say another word and Bela had excused herself soon after. It was normal for you to be in the company of the redhead at this point. Not that she seemed to mind.

"Been a while since you've been back here. Betcha missed me, huh?" Daniela said, a charming smile curled on her lips. She stood next to you, seeming intent on leading you on a little walk around. Hey, you'd take any excuse to spend time with her.

You laughed softly, "Quite, Miss Daniela."

"You're still sticking to those formalities, Y/N? Come on, you can drop the 'Miss'." She sidled up closer to you, nudging your side. "You can even skip 'Daniela' altogether and just call me yours."

You unconsciously covered your mouth as you glanced her way -- she was being more straightforward than usual. You don't know if you were just trying to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks or trying to stop yourself from smiling too widely, but seeing the smug look on the other's face, you knew she succeeded yet again in flustering you.

"What's wrong? Did summer come early? You're looking kinda warm," she teased, bending down slightly to your face level. "Then again, you are hot enough for the both of us." Damn, she was too good at this. "You'd give the sun a run for its money, honey."

You took a few moments to collect yourself, standing up straighter and clearing your throat. Your eyes looked up to meet hers, showing a half-smile as you spoke with as smooth of a delivery as you can muster, "I'd always thought you would be the sun's rival, given how easily you brighten up my day."

Daniela nearly tripped when she took another step, only managing to catch herself on a nearby bench.

"Are you--"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, just, uh... stubbed my toe on something. Stupid rock."

There were no rocks on the path you two were walking -- unless one counted the flat rock ground. (It didn't.)

The rest of the day carried on as it normally would -- Daniela distracting you from the uneasy feeling of being watched from a proper walk with her usual demeanor, batting her eyelashes and telling you how she simply must teach you to dance some time. "Maybe then you'll learn to loosen up around me." But in return, you would sometimes reply with your own quips -- "Well I wouldn't be opposed to being closer to you, Miss Daniela." You weren't about to question where this newfound confidence came from; you may as well own it, right?

It was only after that visit, replaying the day in your head like you wanted to remember it for as long as you could, that a realization came to you -- the way her cheeks tinged pink and averted her gaze, how she was rendered speechless whenever you replied in the same way that was usually expected of her...

She's not used to being flirted back to.

Her self-esteem allowed her to accept most straightforward compliments with grace, so flattery did not faze her in the slightest -- but when it came to using disarming words? When charm and wit were used right back at her?

She floundered almost as much as you did.

Suddenly, you weren't just a prop in the game anymore -- you knew how to play it now. You knew uttering such sweet (and occasionally cheesy) phrases could make the youngest Dimitrescu blush harder than a maiden being courted. And by god, did she look adorable when she did.

You kind of understood why she did all that now -- watching someone get flustered and knowing you were the cause of it was fun. It was weirdly thrilling seeing her react like that, but then again you might be confusing that feeling with different kind of fluttering in your chest whenever you were alone with Daniela. Who knows?

One thought lingered at the back of your mind though: How long would it take before one of you broke and asked the other on a real date?

(Cassandra materialized behind Daniela as you bade her farewell for the day. She had been observing the two of you interact for a while, monitoring the redhead's "progress". She knocked her sister out of her faraway thoughts with a smack to the head. "So are you gonna admit you like them yet?"

Daniela seemed almost offended at the insinuation, "I would nev-- I mean how dare-- I don't like-- they're just-- I--"

The brunette only raised an eyebrow.

"They're..." She thought back to you, that cute little smile you wore whenever she tried to flirt with you, and how you suddenly rose to the challenge of using her own tactics against her earlier. It was kind of hot. "Okay, I guess. They're okay. They're fine." Quite fine. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Suuuure...")

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