#knowing January smiled and then immediately got kicked in the heart

[themostdearofspaghettis]

Artemis no, Artemis no!!!!! You say he was right then stay the fuck away from Ethics(town mayoral position)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dear--charlie]

Dear Charlie,

It's been 3 years since I've written to you. Every time I write, I feel like I'm a different person. Life feels like a complete mess but I'm also okay ish? I stress about work, money, family, relationships, the usual things. But it feels manageable. Hard as fuck, but manageable. I'm trying to be a better person. My parents really fucked me up, and now I can see how that has made me a not-great-person at times. Christ, I have a sharp tongue. And I wield it carelessly, and it hurts people I love. But I am trying. I don't want to be like them so I have to work at it. It's harder than I thought it would be. So often I don't even realize that what I'm doing is not only harmful/unhealthy, let alone recognize that I sound just like my mother/acting like my father. It's so hard trying to have a good relationship with them. I love them, I recognize that they're flawed people who have traumas of their own, and I have endless empathy for them. But I'm still so fucking mad at them. Its like there is this anger at the core of my being that I'll never shake. I'm so fucking fucked up and how they treated me was so wrong and they were so irresponsible all of the time. When I was a year old, they took me on a trip to New Orleans w my mom's parents. There's an adorable picture of me riding on my dad's shoulders from this trip, I've heard funny stories from it all my life. Then I find out that when they went on that trip, they were nearly 6 months behind on their mortgage payments. And that kinda encapsulates the irresponsibility and the instability it caused. They couldn't afford that house, but they bought it anyways. I don't know how many times we had our water or electricity shut off because they couldn't pay the bills. Showering by the light of a fucking oil lamp. I was a kid, but I knew something was wrong and this shouldn't be happening. We lost that house in the 2011 housing crisis. There are thousands of other examples but yeah :) all that bullshit, and then immediately afterwards the turmoil of 2011-2015 started.

Anyways, Charlie, I'm working to be better. Need to find a new therapist but I started reading this book about how emotionally immature parents can fuck their kids up. Christ, Charlie, every page is like a punch in the face. An over developed sense of empathy?? Emotionally dissatisfying romantic partners?? Extreme anger that turns inward, causing thoughts of SH???? It's like reading a book about myself and while I hate feeling known, it's really helping.

As a life update: love where I work and my coworkers, but things are...complicated w management and I'm struggling so I'm considering leaving which kinda blows. My little brother has been living somewhat close to me for the last two years but he'll be moving away soon :( I wish I'd taken more opportunities to go see him while he was within a days driving distance. I miss him a lot. He's one of my best friends. I don't think there's been more than a week (at the most) since the day he was born that we haven't interacted in some way. So yeah, kicking myself for not visiting him way more. The relationship is much stronger, but there are still things we have to work through. Unfortunately he has been on the receiving end of my sharp tongue to say the least, which has given me the much needed kick in the ass to get serious about being better. Leo is good, he got some teeth taken out in January but he adjusted very quickly and it was a quick healing process. Words cannot describe how thankful I am for this cat. He is a momentous comfort in hard times, he never fails to bring a smile to my face and peace to my heart. He's laying on the bed with me right now, and when I'm done writing I am going to scratch his belly.

Life is weird, Charlie. There's a Nauhtl proverb that says the earth is slippery. It's hard to be a good person, life is full of shit that will trip you up. You have to work hard at remaining upright. It hasn't been an easy road getting here. I didn't want to live past 17. I'm nearly 27 now. It's been hard and a lot of things still hurt, but it gets better. I would have missed out on so many incredible moments had I ended at 17. I'm glad that I'm still here.

Thank you for being here for so long, Charlie. You'll always hold a special place in my heart ❤️

Love,

J

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Love at first sight.

Reader is like a forgotten child/ sister of the wheeler family? And nobody knows that Mike & Nancy have another sister and at school she is kind of a nobody and when Eddie sees/ finds out about her he’s just in love and is wondering why he hasn’t noticed her before

Request by anon.

Nancy is 19. Reader is 18

Warnings; none, fluff. Eddie and the reader are smitten with each other.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.

January 1987

It was nearly nine o'clock on a cold, January night and her mother had asked her to pick up her brother Mike from The Hellfire Club.

She loved her family but she was the middle child so she kinda got forgotten sometimes not that her parents did it intentionally, well at least her mother didn't.

Her dad wasn't really interested in any of his kids so she didn't take it to heart. It's just with Nancy being the oldest and the golden child, Mike being the only boy and Holly the baby it didn't leave much room for her.

So she forged her own path and became more and more independent as time went on, she loved her siblings and they loved her but they didn't understand her feelings.

Sighing she heads into the auditorium where Hellfire Club was held and heard the campaign was still ongoing.

Mike groans as she comes into view.

"Aw come on y/n five minutes". Dustin beams at her and she ruffles his hair. Lucas and Will are still engaged in the game.

"Wheeler who is this?" She startles as a deep voice barks out and she turns to the head of the table where Eddie Munson sits.

Her brother idolises him and even though Eddie and the older members of Hellfire have graduated now they still attend Hellfire meetings and Eddie is still the Dungeon Master.

Her stomach fills with butterflies and she smiles sweetly, he's really cute. His curly brown hair and brown eyes make her melt and those dimples and tats? He's very sexy.

"Hi, I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm y/n". Mike frowns.

"This is my sister, I'm sorry she doesn't know that no one interrupts the campaign". Mike replies and introduces her to Eddie.

Eddie takes her hand and kisses it tenderly.

"Well hello, fair maiden, I'm Eddie. I didn't know that Wheeler had a third sister". She shrugs.

"Don't worry people don't really notice me anyway". He raises an eyebrow.

"Princess, I find that very hard to believe. Wheeler, he snaps why have you never introduced us?". Mike stammers for a second before scowling.

"What is it with guys wanting to date my sisters, Steve, Jonathan for Nancy and now you with y/n!".

Eddie frowns at Mike and turns back to y/n who he's kicking himself for not noticing. She's beautiful and he's instantly smitten with her and her pretty eyes and kind smile.

The game is finishing up anyway so he suggests for her to wait for a few moments and doesn't want to miss his chance to ask her out.

He just hopes she says yes.

"So uh princess what are you doing after dropping the kids off?". Her eyes light up and she moves closer to him batting those pretty eyes at him.

Oh, sweetheart. You already have me falling hook, line and sinker for you he thinks dreamily.

"Well, the boys are having a sleepover, boys' night in the basement. So I was just planning to watch a movie".

Mike is gaping between them as Dustin, Lucas and Will watch him trying to hide their laughter.

"Mind if I join you, sweetheart?". She beams at him and he swears his heart skips a beat.

"You mean like a date?". She asks him softly there's a hopefulness to her tone and he nods trying to keep his cool.

"Yeah, like a date". Still beaming she answers his question.

"I'd love that Eddie, Mike, get your ass in gear I've got a date tonight". Mike looks horrified but one look from him and y/n silences him.

They head out into the cold January night with Dustin, Lucas and Will teasing Mike relentlessly.

Y/n shivers and he immediately takes off his jacket and places it around her shoulders marvelling at how fucking gorgeous she looks in his jacket.

He can't believe his luck that she wants to go on this date and spends the ride in anticipation of what will happen.

Once the boys are at the Wheeler's house and in the basement she puts on a movie for them to watch.

It's Friday the 13th and he finds out that she loves horror movies, though he does offer his services for her to cuddle into if she ever got a bit freaked out.

Turns out they don't watch much of the movie at all, the tension between them is palpable and when they kiss he's hooked, teasing little moans from her mouth that drive him wild

He could imagine kissing her forever, even when he was old and grey. He had never felt like this before for any girl, his cynical heart refusing to believe in love and romance and all that soppy shit.

Truthfully Eddie always thought love, at first sight, was a load of shit but now he was starting to believe in it.

With y/n he fell hard for her and kept on falling.

"Ugh gross!". They break apart and Mike has come upstairs for some snacks and mutters under his breath as Dustin grins.

"They are going to be kissing all the time now you know". Mike covers his ears and y/n bursts into laughter when Mike rushes down to the basement.

"Hey, where are my kisses?". She pouts at him and he smiles stroking her cheek and capturing her lips with his.

❤

[helloliriels]

You want fluffy fic titles? Ok then…

Candy Floss and Bumper Cars

"It's January ... in Dartmoor, Sherlock," John said matter-of-factly. Teeth chattering to prove the point. They climbed back into the land rover. "Where are you going to find a carnival? You'd have better luck in July? August, maybe?"

He shut the passenger side door and immediately began fumbling with the heater knobs as Sherlock started up their vehicle.

The thought of summer heat was rather a nice one ... If only the heat would kick on now!!!

.

"Oh, I don't know," Sherlock replied, casually, after a moment, "might be one here or there?"

John laughed at his apparent optimism, shaking his head and buckled himself in, "that's not how these things work, Sherlock!"

"Besides," John asked, "what brought that up?"

Sherlock drove a little ways further before responding. "I was thinking of those cages ... What I put you through-"

John cut him off with a touch of his hand on his arm, "'s'ok? Yeah? We discussed this. Don't beat yourself up. You were trying to save Henry ... and ..." he added with finality, "you did."

.

Sherlock gave him a look. As if he wasn't sure he had yet atoned ...

John smiled, "it's fine, Sherlock." He sighed, "it is what it is ..." John leaned forward then, eyes suddenly bulging, trying to get a better look, "and what is ... that?"

They were slowing down, coming up on a giant red and white tent and a pop up carnival out in the middle of ... here?

"Sherlock? Are you-?" He asked tentatively, clocking Sherlock's response? Not trusting his own eyes.

"Seeing a country fair?" Sherlock replied, "Yes, John. The carnival is real," he popped open their seatbelts, running around the car to open John's door with a flourish.

John just sat there. Staring up at the giant ferris wheel, dumbfounded ...

Then turning to look at Sherlock with growing amusement on his face.

"Did you ... ?" He began, now climbing out, taking Sherlock’s hand, "you knew this was going to be here? How?!!"

"Simple to know something, when you're the one who's arranged it," Sherlock replied tellingly. Hands behind his back, and a timid expression on his face ... like a small child. He bit his lip ... waiting ... on John's approval???

John's face blossomed into a beautiful grin and he grabbed Sherlock into a tight hug laughing, "C'mere you idiot!"

Needing no further explanation, John was soon grabbing his hand and racing with him into the heart of the carnival. Making a beeline for the Scrambler! The whole way, laughing his head off like a schoolboy on holiday!

"Look at that!" John was pointing at the funnel cakes, "and THAT!" John had spied the ring toss booth, "and ..." John took in a deep *gasp* of pure delight and Sherlock let himself relax into the joy of the moment as John beamed up at him - the ride starting up!

"We're SO DOing the bumper cars next!!!!"

*** 🎡 ***

They got off the ride - a bit dishevelled and undignified - giggling and gripping onto each other, as they regained their sea legs ... only to tear off towards the next ride, and the next. Acting as if the rides would fill up without them!

.

Sherlock followed John around late into the night. Far too much candy floss and popcorn and root beer ... for either of their stomachs to be happy come morning ... but ... clearly having the time of their lives ...

.

... John made everything seem brighter ...

The flickering lights.

... John made everything feel full ...

The empty grounds.

... John painted the world in technicolor ...

The chipping paint.

The tired clowns.

The faded banners.

.

... and Sherlock never wanted this night to end.

.

"What do you want to do next, John?"

Sherlock asked. With a softened smile and a tinge of sadness in his voice ...

... It was already ending.

.

John just looked up at him. Kicked back on the bleachers. Watching a juggling performance with fire and hoops. His face the picture of content. And smiled back, mirroring Sherlock's own feelings.

"Do you really want to know?"

John asked then, playing with the hem of his jacket. Zipping it up tighter.

He was looking away, and then back up at Sherlock. All seriousness.

Sherlock simply scooted closer ... taking the scarf from around his own neck, and carefully - gently - wrapping it around John's, the whole while maintaining eye contact ...

John swallowed. Sitting up straighter.

.

"I would." Sherlock replied then ...

His face so close ... his lips, perfectly touchable ... perfectly near ...

And John leaned in.

Taking.

Him.

Up.

On the offer.

.

As they pulled away, breathless ... Sherlock felt the departing of entertainers. Hearing the beginnings of tear down from the crew far out on the edge of the carnival grounds.

The world had stopped moving though, for him.

Only John was here.

Only him.

They looked at each other, eyes testing the response on one another's faces ... to read what to do next ... before they were kissing again. Arms wrapping beneath jackets and layers to touch to hold. To take.

Sherlock's heart was in his throat. Pounding. Begging for him to brave the words ... to ask? For more ... ?

"John?"

He at last managed. Between kisses too perfect to be real. How long he had waited? Wanted? This.

"Mmhh," John replied, opening his mouth with his tongue and treating him to another surprise ...

His hand fumbled to find John's and he grasped it. Lips and teeth and tongues dancing as he again struggled to form words ... coherent thoughts ... outside of the one overwhelming desire ...

John relented this time only reluctantly, with a sigh. Resting his forehead against Sherlock's.

Both panting heavily and watching their breaths ... puffs like dragons against the cool night air.

"It was perfect, Sherlock."

The ache on John's voice was only mirrored by the growing tug in Sherlock's heart. He wanted everything tonight. He wanted anything John would give him.

"But ..." John said slowly, reaching his fingers up into Sherlock’s raven curls, he brushed them aside ...

"I am freezing my arse off."

.

Then they both started to laugh,

. Taking account of their pale knuckles, hands frozen even though intertwined ... and their red, red noses!

"I suppose we could head back ... ?" He began, then added, "to the inn?"

Watching ... waiting ... for John's next move?

"Mmhh," John nodded. Locking eyes and replying nonchalantly ... "Warm there. Nice fire, yeah?" He licked his lips, before adding, "comfortable bed." He rose and lifted his companion to standing ... "Although ... I'm not sure I'm quite ready yet for sleep ... ?"

.

He asked it as if it was a puzzle?

.

Sherlock grinned.

Stepping forward to acknowledge the challenge.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something ..."

| thob alternative ending | johnlock night | friends to lovers |

Ty for this one!!! 💓 sorry for the delay in reply!

[fatefulfaerie]

Law

A happy January birthday to @lawchan89 !! I hope you like it!

Link thought he had everything under control until the sound of crumbling and cracking earth echoed in his ears. Both his bent knees to absorb the shock and the look behind him were instincts.

“Zelda!” he cried out, although the plates of rock beneath her feet had only shifted a foot or so lower than Link in the sudden quake. Zelda had her arms out, and although she looked down worriedly, she voiced,

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Link asked. She didn’t look sure. Zelda nodded, glancing up to him and letting his presence quell her fear. She nodded again. Link held out his hand.

“Just stay close to me,” Link said as he offered it. “I don’t know what’s happeni–”

Zelda shrieked as the platform she was on slid down further, so far that Link couldn’t see her at all.

“Zelda!” Link exclaimed, much more panicked as dropped his torch without a care and knelt down to peer off the edge. He felt his sigh of relief in his heart. Link offered his hand downwards.

“Please take my hand, I swear to Hylia if I lose you again I’ll kill all three of the golden goddesses myself.”

With a slight hop from the former princess, Link was able to catch Zelda’s hand. He braved a small smile, even a chuckle.

“I got you,” Link said. Zelda, although she had faith in Link’s strength, didn’t have enough faith to brave a smile like him. She was scared, and Link could see it. “It’s okay,” he said, before repeating, “I’ve got you.”

She swallowed nothing, and Link tried to stay calm for her, even as the platform that once supported her weight fell off into the abyss.

Link pushed his weight into his feet as he pulled her, feeling almost embarrassed that he, the Hero of Hyrule, had an arm that felt strained and knees that started to ache. But she was Hylian and he was Hylian and any Hylian trying to lift another Hylian with just one arm would have been a challenge. Link would have risked the other arm to pull her up faster if it wasn’t gripping to keep him stable.

Backing away centimeters at a time, his boots slipping far more than he’d care to admit, he eventually pulled her up, taking her immediately into his arms. Her form slid between his bent legs and hugged his neck.

“I told you I had you,” Link said as Zelda clutched the blue tunic under his thick, leather straps. Similarly, Link held her tight, as if telling the caves that entrapped them that if she were to fall, he was falling with her.

“We should get out of here,” Link forewarned. “It’s not safe.”

They were wary of another quake and they stood up in each other’s arms, Link slightly limping because something went wonky with his left knee, but he tried to ignore it. They were almost where they first entered when an invisible force separated the two, hurtling Link against the wall and throwing Zelda dangerously close to the edge of the abyss.

Ears ringing, Link sat up slowly and only needed the blurry sight of Zelda rolling off the edge like a ragdoll to spur his foolish instincts. His eyesight not even fully sharpened, he let out a scream of effort and ran as fast he could, jumping off the edge to follow Zelda, arms swimming in the air like they were when he went off gallantly to cleanse Rudania.

But he was too late, only seeing Zelda falling, facing him in tears with a hand only lightly stretched upwards. Link reached downwards as she fell but she was too far gone. He was ready to find a way to fall faster so he could somehow catch up with her, but someone else caught him at his wrist, a large hand that he didn’t care to look up at immediately.

“Zelda!” He screamed, a cry in his throat nearly breaking it. He looked up at the hand, or more accurately, the claw that took up his forearm with a furrowed brow.

“Let me go!” He commanded. He flailed, he scratched, he kicked his legs like a child who refused to be carried to bed.

“I can save her!” He exclaimed, so loud that Zelda surely must have heard it echoing as she fell to her death. He bit the slimed fingers to try and hurt it, he yanked at the palm to try and slip free, but the hand lifted him up and tossed him back onto the ground above nonetheless.

“Why didn’t you save her?!” was the last thing Zelda heard before he fell out of earshot, her heart anticipating that at any second, she would meet her deathbed with a great and terrible crack of her spine.

Zelda closed her eyes. She had communed with Link via telepathy before, why not now?

Link…

Link…I love you…remember that

The response was a scream, a prolonged, agonizing scream that hurt Zelda’s ears and opened her eyes wide with a gasp. She’d never before heard him scream like that. Was he in pain?

Link?

Not…Link…

The strained response chilled her to the marrow of her bones, and the silence that followed told her that it was all she would hear from the tones of his voice.

Zelda felt a keese slam hard into her back. She must have fallen into one that was flying.

“Sorry,” she said when she saw it, and when she finally met the end of her fall, she almost thanked the keese for breaking it, standing with only a growing bruise on her back and a stinging pain on the forearm she had fallen onto. She massaged it and braced it with her hand without thinking even about it.

Link, I…I’m okay

She tried not to be too scared when he didn’t respond.

I found ground and I’m still alive

It felt like their early days, where she just talked, and he just listened. Yet, like then, she didn’t even know if he was listening.

I think we’re gonna be okay

Perhaps her feigned optimism would give hope to Link, whatever state he was in. Zelda found herself in a cave just like the one she left, dark, with turquoise stones and engravings etched a long time ago in blood. However, it was far warmer down here, and embers rose from lava she couldn’t yet see.

She was determined, even if she had landed in the core of the earth itself, to find her way back to Link and save him from whatever fate had befallen upon him.

I’m coming, Link

No response until…

Hurry

[sunnypogue]

college rafe gets jealous (blurb)

lil bit of jealous rafe per anon request

college!rafe verse bc why the f00k not

note - jealous/possessive boyfriends usually are not the bizzzzz...not trying to romanticize any toxic traits, but hopefully you can sense a bit of growth from mr. cameron here.

(warning: nsfw-ish, possessive!rafe)

you’re sippin’ on bud from the bottle, chatting with your friend michelle & her boyfriend tyler, when he walks up.

it’s one of tyler’s pi kapp fraternity brothers, notorious for getting too drunk & a little too friendly - it looked like tonight would be no different, as he clasped your bare shoulders with his hands.

“wooo!” he yelled over the thumping base of the bar’s music. “I fucking LOVE game day!”

unc had destroyed florida state in a basketball game earlier that evening, resulting in a rather chaotic post-game celebration at the local bar. you, having worked the game, only got to the bar 15 minutes ago, playing catch up with your significantly more drunk friends.

“hi michael.” you winced, his voice booming in your ear - you were NOT drunk enough for this.

michelle laughed at your face as michael swung his arm around your shoulder, leaning down to drunkenly snuggle into your neck (you were never good at hiding your feelings, your face getting you in trouble more often than not). michael was slurring words you couldn’t understand as he started to dead weight himself on you, causing you to slightly stumble under the 6’2” frat boy.

“michael, get off.” you groaned, pushing him on the shoulder. “and lay off the dollar beers, for Christ’s sake.”

michael made no effort to move, instead weaving his arms around you in a pseudo-hug. you rolled your eyes, trying to shake him off. as tyler made a move to help de-tangle his friend from your body, you immediately felt a 220 pound weight lifted from you, the freedom almost disorienting you.

“what the fuck is going on?”

you looked up to see your boyfriend, rafe, angrily fisting the front of michael’s sweatshirt, two buds comfortably sitting between the fingers of his other hand.

“hey baby,” you started, moving to rest a gentle hand on the arm that was holding a very inebriated michael up, trying to disregard the small crowd of lambdas that flanked rafe, in case shit went down.

rafe ignored you, pulling michael closer to his face, “keep your hands off her. I don’t want to have to explain it to you again.” his words were scarily even, face emotionless as he stared michael down.

he shoved michael back towards michelle and tyler, who barely caught the stumbling boy, before rafe pointed a beer at them, “tyler, keep your little bitch in check. shit’s embarrassing at this point.”

you looked apologetically towards michelle, who was trying to simultaneously hold michael up and talk tyler down from a fight, before following rafe, who was stomping towards the front door, knocking the remainder of his beer back.

“hey!” you yelled, tugging on his arm before he started to put back the second bud, stopping him from leaving the bar. “what the fuck?”

he looked down at you. “I should be asking you that.”

you rolled your eyes, “it’s michael. he’s trashed, I genuinely think he thought I was a wall or something to hold him up.”

rafe chuckled mirthlessly, before polishing off the second beer, setting it down on a dirty table. he turned his backwards hat around, pulling it down low over his eyes. “let’s go.”

you crossed your arms. “really? you’re gonna do this shit right now?”

rafe turned towards the exit, growling, “I’m leaving.”

great - he’s deflecting. you thought, as you chugged the remainder of your beer, before hustling after him.

you shivered in your tank top as you caught up to him on the side walk outside the bar, watching as he ordered an uber, his breathing deep and heavy. you wordlessly leaned into his warm body, teeth chattering in the cold january air.

“here.” rafe grumbled, sliding his sweatshirt off to wrap around you. “it’s january, baby. what the hell are you wearing?”

you grinned, half pleased he wasn’t completely shutting you out, half pleased you were cozy and warm. “who cares? I look cute.”

he grumbled again, wrapping his arms around your neck from behind, pulling your back into his chest. y’all waited like that for the uber to pull up, before sliding into the back seat, rafe propping your feet up on his lap, a hand wrapped possessively around your ankle.

you caught his eye about a block from his house, giving him a shy smile and a wink. he growled, hand sliding up your leg.

you couldn’t get upstairs fast enough, practically tumbling out of the uber as rafe stalked after you, still slightly worked up from the incident at the bar. you went to go casually sit on the foot of the bed, kicking your shoes off, when rafe caught up to you, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

“you gonna be pissy all night?” you teased, pulling your hair down from its half-updo.

“what, I can’t be mad about some fucker groping you at a bar?” rafe growled, pulling his hat off to run his hands through his hair. you sat up on your knees, grabbing the hat from his hands before popping it backwards on your head.

“he wasn’t groping me,” you said, exasperated, adjusting your hair under his hat. “he was trying to stay vertical. very different.”

rafe gave you an amused look as you started to shimmy your jeans off while sitting, giving you a hand when they got stuck around your ankles.

“lookin’ good.” he laughed, taking in your appearance - you were down to just his hat and his sweatshirt, the rest of your outfit on the floor.

you smiled at rafe’s more-relaxed demeanor, popping up on your knees. “you’re a lucky man, rafe cameron. I’m not sure any other girl could pull this look off.”

rafe hummed, walking up to the foot of the bed to grab your ass, pulling you in. you squeaked, tipping forward into his chest, the too-big cap slipping down on your forehead. 

you peered up at him, using one hand to steady yourself on his chest, the other to push the hat back - “you better now?”

rafe leaned down to catch your lips in a heated kiss, teeth nipping your bottom lip enough to make you gasp, allowing his tongue to slide in. one hand slid to roughly grasp the back of your neck as he dictated the pace, the other palming your ass cheek, keeping your body flush to his.

you pulled away a couple minutes later, breathless and lips already feeling bruised, hand moving to your chest to settle your heightened heart rate.

“a little better.” he mumbled, hand moving to the front of your neck, lightly tracing your throat with his fingers. “I know what will really help, though.”

(later, you found yourself seated on his cock, tits bouncing as you rode him wearing nothing but the hat, his hand spanking your ass as he made you tell him who you belonged to - you screamed his name as you came on his cock, screamed his name as he came inside you, and screamed his name as he went to eat his come out of you, listening to him growl “you’re mine” as he shoved his face in your dripping cunt.)

as y’all basked in the afterglow, your legs twisted around his, his hand cupping one of your breasts, he breathed out an apology.

“sorry, baby. I know you hate that shit.” he murmured, mindlessly letting his finger circle your nipple.

you wiggled under his light touch, “s’okay baby. you didn’t fight anyone tonight.”

he smirked, rolling your now-hard nipple between his fingers, watching your head tip back in pleasure. “what can I say baby, I’m practically a pacifist now.”

you snorted, smacking his bare shoulder, pleasure forgotten in the humor. “okay bub, whatever you say.” you giggled again. “pacifist my ass. you literally fought a beta in october because he looked at my ass.”

you yelped as rafe tugged you into his side, rolling you under him, his arms bracketing your head. “like it didn’t turn you on.”

you moaned as he leaned down to kiss you again, filthy and slow, tongues fighting for control.

he pulled away a few moments later, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hand cupped your cheek.

you pouted, nuzzling into his palm. “I really should stop sleeping with you after you get all jealous - I think you think I’m encouraging it.”

rafe grinned down at you, slipping his thumb between your teeth, watching as your eyes widened. “whatever babes,” he chuckled, pressing the digit down on your tongue, “you’re mine.”

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

Can I Have This Dance? (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: PG - Fluffy 

Word Count: 2,689

Synopsis: 4 times the reader asked Steve to dance with her and one time Steve her.

Info: Written for @cockslut-padalecki​’s Not My Ninth Challenge in celebration of 9k followers! Also Happy Belated birthday, I hope you had a great one. I choose, How Do I Live by LeAnn Rimes and Wedding Ceremony. The dividers are by @firefly-graphics​ 💘 I’m posting this on my barley working laptop, so forgive me. Also all mistakes are mine as this is not beta read.

1st Time:

Honestly what possessed her to wear her favorite white denim overall shorts to Sam’s barbecue? They were now stained with all all kinds of food and handprints from the children of the Avengers children asking to be held by her. Admittedly seeing everyone so happy and spending the afternoon with her fiancé made it worth it. Also Natasha would probably be able to show her how to get the stains out.

“Want to queue up the next song?” Sam nudged her handing over his phone that was connected to speakers. Giddily Y/N took the phone and went through the approved barbecue playlist as Killer Queen started to play, she continued to scroll as her head bopped to the song. Finding the perfect one she handed the phone over to Sam’s significant other Lou who kissed her on the cheek. 

Bucky and Steve were sharing a phone screen laughing at whatever video it was they were watching, probably one of Alpine that Bucky had taken. Getting up from her chair Y/N stood beside Steve’s and brushed her right hand across his broad shoulders, goosebumps started to rise on his skin as she leaned in to brush her lips beside his ear. 

“Come dance with me, Stevie please?" the blonde's face blushed as his fiance turned away from him making her way back towards the dancing couples. “Punk if you don't I sure as hell will.” Steve turned to give his best friend a glare just as the baritone voice sang out, jumping to his feet.

“I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt. Why were you digging? What did you bury? Before those hands pulled me from the earth.” Steve rushed to Y/N’s side, a small smile on her face her fiance placed his face at her time taking in the scent of lavender and mint, while his hands rested at her hips. Y/N’s arms circled his neck interlocking her hands, eyes closing she placed her heads against his chest over his heart. As Hozier sang the couple just swayed from side to side, loving each other.

“I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we could just kiss like real people do.” As the song came to an end Steve and Y/N’s eyes met, she was biting her lip, a look of worry was in her eyes. 

“What?” Looking placed his hands on Y/N’s face doing everything he could to ease the worry in his fiancés face. 

“Just, how would I live without you?” Steve scoffed and pulled Y/N into his arms, hugging her close, “You’ll never have to live without me, I’m going anywhere. I love you.”

2nd Time:

“Well son her mother would have loved you and I’m so proud to have you joining our family.” Andy clapped his daughters fiancé on the shoulder, before looking out on the dance floor to see all four of his children dancing together to the Macarena having a good time. 

“I’m lucky to have her Andy and I love both her and this family.” Steve assured Y/N’s father how much he loved her as the song came to an end. The DJ for the reception started to walk towards Y/N’s  sister and her husband. 

Y/N stood between her brothers playfully nudging each other like they used to do as kids. Suddenly it was quiet in the reception hall, both her and Steve were looking at Y/N’s sister and her husband who smiled at everyone, but they were staring at Y/N. 

“I need my sister Y/N and her fiancé Steve to come up here for a second.” Y/N’s brothers pushed her forward, suddenly glad she had exchanged her heels for converse 4 or 5 songs back. Steve and she met halfway there, hands grasping at each other as their fingers intertwined. The blonde leaned over and kissed the crown of his fiancé's face making her blush as they reached Legacie and Michael. 

“This weekend was actually supposed to be the weekend that Y/N and Steve got married, but 6 months ago I came to my sister and told her I was pregnant. Y/N knew Michael and I would want to move our wedding up, Y/N and Steve immediately asked if I would like to take their wedding and for that we are so thankful. The thing about my sister is she is just like our mom, always giving and so loving, it makes so much sense why Steve fell in love with my little sister. I got to thinking a way to thank you and that is dedicating a song to you, your favorite song as a kid.” Legacie passed the microphone back to the DJ, before she reached over kissing her little on the cheek. Y/N looked at her sister before her jaw dropped and her cheeks turned pink as the keyboard of the popular ’90s Australian pop singer hit started to play. 

“I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish. I'll be your fantasy, I'll be your hope, I'll be your love. Be everything that you need.” Y/N still holding onto Steve’s hand turned to stand in front of him and looked up at him. 

“Will you dance with my love?” with a smile on his face, Steve didn't even verbalize his answer, he just gave a tug of her hand pulling her body closer to his, as other couples joined them on the dance floor.

“I wanna stand with you on a mountain. I wanna bathe with you in the sea. I wanna lay like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me. I wanna stand with you on a mountain. I wanna bathe with you in the sea.I want to live like this forever. Until the sky falls down on me.” As they continued to dance among Legacie and Michale's family and friends, he tried to imagine how he would live without her in his life. He had an answer before the song was even over he knew a life without Y/N was no life at all. 

3rd Time:

She was trying really hard not to cry but it felt but it was 3:12 in the morning, it was raining, it looked like Bucky had finished off the rest of her Ben and Jerry Star Spangled Berry Swirl, and Friday was playing her I got the blues playlist. Boy did she have the blues, she shouldn’t though, it was November, the holiday season was in full swing, but it was as if her heart wasn’t in it. 

Then the piano kicked in and the tears really started. 

“Look into my eyes, you will see what you mean to me.”

Steve down the hall in bed they shared hearing sniffles of his fiancé, got out of bed, grabbing her cardigan from ottoman at the foot of the bed. Y/N stood at the kitchen island sipping a cup of hot tea as Bryan Adams sang. 

“Darling?” Steve came up behind her and placed the over side article of clothing over shoulder, kissing her temple. Setting the steaming cup of lavender and blueberries down, Y/N turned around to look him in the eyes, with tears still coming down. 

“Dance with me Stevie, please?” with a little lift of the right side of his lips. Steve pulled Y/N to him, placing her head over his heartbeat, he encased her his arms and started to sway them. 

“Don't tell me, it’s not worth fightin' for. I can't help it, there’s  nothin' I want more. You know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you.”

“I can’t live without you Stevie.” Y/N whispered into the night as she looked out at the rain coming down in the night. 

“And you won't have to," Steve promised. 

4th Time:

It was finally the New Year, 12:01 on January 1st to be exact and everyone was partying at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, thanks to Pepper and Tony. Peter Quill and his friends had made it, Thor with Jane, Carol Danver, Monica Rambeau with her friends Jimmy Woo and Darcy, Fantastic Four, Peter Parker had brought his best friend Ned and girl friend MJ, all the Avengers were there, even the Wakanda gang was accounted for, the place was packed. It seemed as if the bad guys were in need of a day off. 

Steve stood a few feet away from Y/N who was dancing with Natasha, Clint, Shuri, Peter, MJ, Wanda, Scott, Johnny, Groot, Darcy, Sam, Lou, and Jimmy Woo, they were all dancing to thank u, next, laughing and having a good time. Lou was currently on Sam's shoulders making the Bucky who was beside Steve, hoot’d, as he took a shot from the Asgardian mead. It was great for Steve to see all his friends and family to be letting loose. 

Y/N walked over as the song came to a closure and pulled Steve in for a kiss earning a cheer from the group they had surrounded themselves with. Blushing they pulled apart as the familiar violin started to play across the room, making the room erupt cheers yet again. Tonight’s crowd was easily pleased, who knew all it took was alcohol, food, friends, and good music? 

As the drum kicked in, Y/N’s head started to bop her foot tapping along, grabbing Steve’s hand she started to pull him towards the group, grabbing Bucky’s hand along the way. 

“Steve can I have this dance?” Looking over her shoulder as she got ready to start jumping up and down, Steve looked at her as if he had to think on it, but stopped when Bucky hit him in the bicep. “Not with the metal arm, and yes!”

“Come on Eileen! Oh, I swear, what he means. At this moment you mean everything, you in that dress. My thoughts I confess, verge on dirty. Oh, come on Eileen.” The group's form of dancing was jumping up and dancing, moving their heads side to side, throwing in mixed moves, like the sprinkler or epaule here and there. It was just about letting go. Steve and Y/N danced together with the fingers of their left-right hands interlaced jumping up and down, throwing their heads back and forth like they were at a rock concert. 

As Bucky danced with his best friend and the girl that had become like a sister to him, he couldn't picture their lives without one another. There was no Steve without Y/N in it, no Y/N without Steve. They were so madly, deeply in love, that to lose the other it would be close to losing themselves. He vowed at that moment to do whatever it took to always bring Steve home and to always protect Y/N for him. 

The 1 Time Steve Asked Y/N to Dance:

“This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for!” Bucky raised his glass of bourbon to the crowded room, before he leaned down to place a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. He had just given his best man speech congratulating his best friend on finding his soulmate who made him happy, and on his retirement. Lou leaned forward putting their arms around Y/N’s shoulders swaying, making the bride laugh as the best friends hugged. 

Steve took the microphone from Sam and pulled Y/N away from her best friend, confused she looked up at him. The room was silent with all eyes on them, as it had been since the moment she stepped out onto the wooden boardwalk Pepper’s people had built leading to the dock, everyone’s eyes had been on them. 

“Through this whole wedding process my wife has been so incredibly patient with me. Originally I just said whatever you want Y/N it’s your day, but she would scrunch her face up, for her family they know what I’m talking about, the one where she doesn’t like something or doesn’t understand, anyways. Lou, Y/N’s best friend and the perfect person for Sam came to me said,

“Rogers for a superhero, you are pretty dense, the wedding day is both your big day. This is a day you both are going to look back on, tell your children about and share with your family and friends. Don’t make her plan it and make all the choices on her own.” Steve looked down at Y/N and smiled, as his wife laughed and gave her best friends hand a tight squeeze before letting it go. 

“So I did what I could, your napkins I chose, thank you very much, your centerpieces though, you are going to have to take that up with the my beautiful wife’s cousin, Willow, she handmaid these beautiful pieces for us, so we could reuse them in our winery and barn.” Willow blew the couple a kiss making the crowd laugh as Y/N caught it and stumbled back, before throwing one back just as extravagantly. 

“Anyways the reason I’m up here is because I really didn’t do that much, but I made a promise to my wife that I, the man out of time, could pick the song we dance to as a married couple.” Turning his body so now the newlyweds were now facing each other, Sam took the microphone holding it up to Steve's mouth, as Steve held both Y/N’s hands in his.

“Steve we’ve talked about this you’re right where you need to be.” Steve just nodded his head and kissed her on the lips getting a few people in the crowd cheering. Bucky, Sam, Lou, and Y/N’s siblings are motioned for the crowd to quiet down. 

“I admit I waited till last night to e-mail our DJ Ned and tell him our song. But to be fair if it hadn’t been for a talk I had while sleeping at Sam’s and him playing this song we probably would just have some random song. Thank you Sam for saving the day.” Sam pulled the microphone telling the couple it was no problem really. 

“With that all said and done, Mrs. Rogers can I have this dance?” Laughing Y/N nodded as they made their way around the tables holding hands waving to their family and friends. Ned Leeds, was the nights DJ, thanks to coming recommended by his friend Peter Parker, this was his hobby by a means to pay for college and his growing obsession of Star Wars Legos. As soon as the couple had made it to the center of the faux hardwood dance floor, he hit play.

“How do I get through one night without you? If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?”

Y/N let a gasp slip past her lips as the familiar country song played. Her arms held onto Steve’s shoulders, while he held onto her hips, they did their usual sway, there was no need for fancy footing or putting on a show. This was just them being them, in love, sharing that love with a room full of their closest family friends. 

“I promised you, you wouldn’t have to know what it was like to live without me, and you won’t either of you.” Y/N looked up at him placing a kiss on his soft lips, letting a few tears of happiness slip. This is what contentment felt like, to feel whole, be loved, and find that perfect person. 

“How do I live without you? How do I live without you, baby? How do I live?”

[hunflowers]

memememe

okay okay hopefully you like it

Morning 1, January 17th, 2016

The frigid, January air had woken her up, rather than her alarm. Her legs were curled up to her chest while she gripped the comforter close to her body trying to maintain any sort of heat that her body could emit. Peeking over her shoulder to glance at her boyfriend, Y/N saw he lay with the blanket half off of his body while also being shirtless.

That’s just unfair.

She can feel the tips of her fingers and toes growing numb.

There’s been a problem with the thermostat for approximately two weeks, but no matter how much they pester the landlord, the problem is yet to be fixed. Yet they couldn’t really stay at her place seeing as she’s been kicked out a week ago because her roommate offered up her room to her cousin that was, “In desperate need of a place to stay.”

It was quite the shock to get home and see her stuff haphazardly tossed into the living room and hallway and a completely new person lying in what was once her bed. Tatiana, her roommate, appeared next to her, explaining what was going on. “Plus, I figured since you’re at Finn’s a lot this wouldn’t be a big problem. I would’ve talked to you first if you had nowhere else to go.”

Even though she did have somewhere to go, it would’ve been nice to get the memo beforehand.

Gently placing her sock-clad feet on the floor, Y/N’s grateful she can’t feel the chill of the wood beneath her. She’s a hater in regards to sleeping with socks on, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures, no matter how sickening. Silently making her way out of the bedroom, she quickly glanced over her shoulder again to see Finn, her sleeping beauty, still peacefully knocked out.

She’s envious.

Pulling her sweater tighter against her body, Y/N made her way down the hall to the kitchen in order to make herself a cup of coffee which, hopefully, will warm her right up.

Though, she nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees a figure in the dark, the light from their phone barely illuminating their face. Reaching blindly for the light switch along the wall, Y/N cringes the second the brightness invades her vision. The person also yelps from the sudden change in light.

When her eyes hurt just a little less, Y/N peaks open an eyelid and sees Finn’s roommate as the suspect. “Shit, Harry, you scared me.”

They both are clenching their chests while taking in a deep breath. After a few brief moments, Harry gives her a sheepish smile after profusely rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, love.”

God, she loved his accent.

She remembers when Harry first moved in a couple of months ago, how she wasn’t at all expecting his accent when he stuck his hand out to introduce himself. “Hi, m’Harry. S’nice to meet you.”

Finn had told her he was from England, but frankly, she was still surprised when she met him. To this day it still surprises her.

“Maybe turn on a light next time or perhaps announce yourself in the dark,” Y/N laughs, watching as he nods his head almost as if to promise he will next time. Hopefully there isn’t a heart attack inducing next time.

Walking over to the Keurig, Y/N began prepping her morning brew, reaching into the cabinet above her head to grab her favorite mug. White porcelain covered in different colored butterflies. “What’re you doing up so early? It’s only six.”

“Just got home from m’shift,” he says, which is immediately followed by a yawn. “And you?”

“Well,” she also lets out a yawn, “the opposite actually. Have to start getting ready for my job.”

Harry watched her glide across the small kitchen as if it were her own – and to a certain degree it kind of was. She hardly had to look for anything as she whipped up a quick breakfast for herself while her coffee brewed, blindly reaching for everything, knowing exactly where her fingers would land.

She was a bit of an enigma in Finn and his small kitchen. She almost seemed like she was too big for it. Her energy exuded the pale walls and brown cupboards. Her mug full of colorful butterflies was the only pop of color this kitchen saw. Everything else was bleak. Too bleak for her.

It wasn’t just the mug that Harry noticed changing around the apartment. He saw various pops of color that only came about after Y/N had moved in. There was a crocheted throw blanket laying across the back of the black couch in contrast, a few pictures along windowsills and on tables that decorated what once used to be barren land. A few plants (both real and fake) were even able to call this apartment home now.

Not that Harry was complaining about any of it. He actually liked that this place looked a little lived in. He especially liked that it all came from her. But that was a subject he didn’t let his mind wander on for too long.

He honestly hadn’t realized how long he had been staring until he heard her clear her throat. His eyes snapped up to hers, watching as her eyebrows raised in question. “You look pretty tired, maybe you should get some sleep.”

Y/N watched as he nodded his head, quietly mumbling a, “good night,” before all but running to his room. She was just a little confused but didn’t bother to think too hard into it before grabbing the creamer out of the refrigerator and pouring it into her mug.

A couple moments later Harry popped his head back into the kitchen, now without his jacket on, wondering, “Is the heat still not working?”

Wrapping her hands around her mug, Y/N shook her head before blowing a little on the hot substance and taking a small yet satisfying sip. Her body could finally stop shivering.

“Shit,” Harry mumbled under his breath. “I’ll go talk to Ben again later.”

“Okay, thanks. Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N hummed over her mug, maintaining excruciating eye contact.

Harry only smiled in return before retreating back into his room.

Now she was left to her lonesome. Something she tried not to dwell too much on.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.4

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (4.1k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic descriptions of violence and blood, major character death

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, January 12 

You and Namjoon return back without much of a word exchanged. 

The stifling silence lingers longer than its welcome, and there’s occasional swaying of your eyes, hastily scanning over Namjoon’s features. Moments like this make you wish you could figure out what was churning inside his head, the knowledge of his thoughts easing your work by tenfold. 

But alas, Namjoon is the heir to the Kim Empire. Although you have a carefully constructed image of him in mind, he has only been kind and considerate to you, and volatile when the situation calls upon him for action. Something that makes you truly wonder if you’ve been able to assess his character properly at all to this point. 

Entering the house, you plan on heading back to your bedroom and reporting back the information you’ve obtained ‒ until a hand covers yours against the doorknob. 

You swivel, brows knitting together. Your breath immediately hitches, noticing how Namjoon is just inches away from you.

He simply stares at you for a moment, like he was deciphering a puzzle. Lips moving, out escapes a question that you weren’t expecting. 

“Why are you trying to be a part of this?” 

Your eyes enlarge and you rattle through your brain for the clearest of answers. 

“This is your work...I just wanted to know more…” As if on instinct, you attach your role to it. “A-As your wife.” 

Namjoon’s lips draw into a line, and there’s a heavy crease forming in between his brows. A soft ‘tick’ leaves him as he spins around, planting a hand on his temples. 

For a second, you’re not sure what to make out from the gesture. In fact, you can’t recall if you’ve seen Namjoon like this before, especially towards you. 

Hesitating for a moment, your hand begins to slowly advance, moving towards his shoulder. 

He whirls around and you retract it in an instant. 

The breath is knocked out of your lungs when Namjoon clasps onto your hands, desperation reigning heavy in his eyes and rendering you immobile. 

“Please, don’t.” His voice cracks and your gaze instantly latches onto his, “I‒.…I don’t want you succumbing to it too.” 

Confusion swirls in your eyes and Namjoon exhales, fluttering his own shut. “The work I do‒the work I continue on from, it’s not the most pleasant...” 

“And…it’s something that’s completely broken my family.” 

Your pupils flare and Namjoon opens his eyes, tenderly gazing at you. 

“They act as if they don’t care much about the business or about controlling it, when in reality it’s all they ever concern themselves about.” Namjoon explains, “When we got married and you had dinner with them….I saw the family I knew before I became the heir, the ones that hadn’t let this business take precedence over everything else…” 

He continues, anguish leaking into his words, “I….I don’t want things to be the same way with you.” 

Your eyes don’t leave him and the pulse of your heart rate steadily increases, almost doubling when Namjoon squeezes your hands. 

“Get involved in something else, please.” He pleads, “It can be anything, just‒…” 

There’s a moment of hesitation, before he decides to be completely truthful. “Just know that my hands are the ones that have been tainted enough.” 

You harshly suck in a breath, warmth rapidly radiating over your skin. Namjoon expectantly stares at you, waiting for an answer that you can barely conceive. 

Swallowing hard, you nod in response. His shoulders deflate with relief and a genuine smile spreads across his features, but all it serves to do is make the sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach worse. 

I’m sorry, Namjoon. 

You weren’t sent here to not get involved, you weren’t trained and tasked with the mission of relaying information back, seeking an infiltration rather than a relationship from your marriage. 

Picking up the familiar box and hearing the static that reigns out, you patiently wait for the signal to correspond. The thought of Namjoon holding your hands and begging for you to delve deeper elsewhere because of the impact on his family, pangs through your mind more than you would like. 

The signal is sent through and you prepare yourself, placing your hands on the box. 

But for the first time since you’ve been married, you hesitate. 

“W-What?” 

You wonder if your ears heard right, but the remorseful look on your parents suggests otherwise. 

“We’re sorry, Y/N....” Your father states, turning his back without a second look in your direction. Your mother follows suit, not foregoing a glance either. 

You stand frozen, pupils latched onto their disappearing backs. Water begins to surface within your eyes and the door begins to slowly close behind them, all traces of light cutting off. 

┈

“Again!” 

The voice roars in your face, a wince running through your shoulders immediately. 

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking a-about…” 

His hand immediately grabs onto your chin, pushing you forward. Your breathing is uneven, eyes wide with fear. “This is the face of a liar? Say it firmly!” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You swallow hard and the daunting man in front of you seems satisfied for once, stepping back to look through the thin glass on the other side of the room. You don’t dare look, accepting that you were merely a puppet whose strings had to be pulled the right way. 

At the sound of approval from the glass, there’s a smile that curls on his lips as he turns to face you again. 

┈

“I-I can’t…” 

A hand slams against the metal table you’re sitting at and you jolt, “A woman tells you she has information regarding the Kim’s and you need to get it out of her.” He nearly snarls in your face, “What. do. you. do?” 

You almost feel like you’re being suffocated, but the answer slips through your lips after being drilled in there for a thousand times. 

“E-Exploit her weaknesses.” You squeeze your eyes shut, “Guilt her into thinking she can trust me…” 

He steps back, staring down at you with cold eyes. His gaze would make you waver, gawk at something else until it was over, but you raise your eyes, staring back at him without hesitation. 

A smile curls on his lips when he notices you’re beginning to hold the same coldness in your eyes that he has. 

┈

“AH!” 

You clasp your hand around your shoulder, the throbbing radiating all the way through your back. A punch is thrown your way and the grimace you hold vanishes in an instant. 

He scowls, “Keep your eyes on your opponent, Y/N!”

“S-Sorry…” 

A hard kick lands on your leg and you immediately collapse, a pang of pain shooting down where your hands grasp on. 

“What did I say about apologizing?!” 

Your mouth remains sealed shut and you attempt to get up, ignore the wobbling urge your knees have. Another punch is thrown in your direction and although clumsily, you manage to defect it in time. 

A wide grin spreads over his features. 

┈

“I-I can’t do this...I-I can’t…” 

His voice is far from gentle, “Y/N.” 

“I was never meant to be a spy.” You plead, “I-I can’t do any of this…” 

“Y/N.” 

Your voice cracks, “I-I just want to go home…” 

Your fingers are forcibly pride open, the cold metal jamming into your skin. Despite your protests, your arm is lined up in front of you, the man on the chair cowering away with wide eyes. 

“This is your job, Y/N.” He states coldly, “If circumstance calls for it, you will have to do this.” 

There’s a group of individuals behind him, all carefully observing you like some sort of lab rat. Your hands tremble uncontrollably and there’s a sick feeling in your stomach, but despite all that, you know there’s no way out. 

You’ve pleaded with him. You’ve pleaded with your parents - who aside from concern-filled faces, turn away with a blindeye. 

There’s no use. This is who you are now. 

“Y/N.” Your instructor scowls, “Shoot.” 

Hot water rolls down your cheeks, the weapon threatening to slip away from your hands. 

“Y/N.” His voice grows louder, commandful in nature. He doesn’t tell you what to do anymore, instead he glares, the silence in the room being daunting enough. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to think about how terrified the man in front of you looks. 

Your body propels backwards, and you’re sent flying until your back smacks against the wall. The metal slips from your fingers and you can’t bear to open your eyes, the scent of blood already alerting you of your lethal actions. 

The sound of footsteps coming closer greet you, and you don’t even need to look at him to see the smile that curls on his lips. 

His words are laced with satisfaction and pride, but they only serve to increase the emptiness inside you. 

"You're a tool now, Y/N. From on, you must follow our every instruction and order."

Like a robot, you solemnly nod. The mayhem of your doing is dragged away from the room, leaving behind a steak of crimson against the ground. 

From there on forth, the nightmare begins. 

Your eyes shoot open, a harsh gasp leaving your lips. Glancing rapidly around, you notice the wide two doors in your direct view and the luxurious bed that sits in the corner of the room. 

Your heavy breathing begins to still, shoulders slowly sinking down. There’s a silky texture against your skin that shifts, the length of the maroon gown pooling onto the ground. 

You sit up straighter, mind still dazed. 

Namjoon walks in, adjusting the cuffs to his suit with a deep frown. His eyes flicker up on you at once, a smile of relief tugging on the corner of his lips. 

“You’re awake?” 

It takes you a second to register his words, but after a moment you nod. “I hope you’re not feeling too tired to come with me.”

Shaking your head, Namjoon grins and you rise from your seat. He lets you loop your hand around his outstretched arm and you attempt to void your mind, aware that you’ll be spending the rest of the evening underneath a scrutinizing spotlight. 

***

The night swiftly passes by, individual's intermingling and conversing amongst themselves. You remain latched onto Namjoon’s arm, following him around as he greets members and thanks them for coming. Save for the chance encounter you have with his parents and a brief run-in with one of the company managers, your eyes continue to stay glazed over. 

Namjoon seems to notice right away and for once, you don’t question the motive behind his intention. 

“I’m fine.” You ease when he piques if you’re fatigued from the gathering. A waiter passes by you and you instantly reach out, reluctantly grabbing onto a glass of wine.  

Namjoon doesn’t question you again, but when he rounds the corner and heads towards a group of four familiar individuals, you’re grateful for picking up the beverage. 

Contrary to previous encounters, the shareholders don’t appear utterly offended nor hostile by your appearance. You presume that to be a good sign. 

“It’s about time you showed up.” Yoongi quips. Namjoon sheepishly smiles, and Hoseok chimes in. 

“Have you heard anything about the recent deal?” He quirks up a keen eyebrow and Namjoon advances forward, beginning to explain into detail. Although intrigued, you take occasional quiet sips from your drink, making no move to intervene. 

“How have you been this evening?” You blink for a moment, before turning in astonishment towards the source of the voice. 

Taehyung takes a sip out of his own drink, eyeing you for an answer. “I’ve been alright.” 

“You seem tired.” Brows furrowing, you glance at him peculiarly, wondering if it was truly obvious.

“I’m just a little under the weather.” 

He hums, continuing to drink from his glass and standing near you during Namjoon’s explanation. It draws curiosity out from you, but there’s a bitter taste lingering on your lips. 

You draw your upper and bottom lip together, smacking them together with puzzlement. Your stomach churns, the acidity in your throat abruptly spiking up and overwhelming your senses. A sudden wave of vertigo hits you out of nowhere, nearly causing you to trip. 

Two hands shoot out to steady you immediately.

“Y/N?” 

Although you recognize Namjoon’s voice, your response is cut off the moment your hand reaches up to cover your mouth. His grasp on you tightens, and before you know it, you’re being led out of the room immediately. 

You can’t recall where Namjoon brings you, but you can feel the cool texture of a wall against your hands as you attempt to steady yourself. There’s still a hand covering your mouth and Namjoon leans in closer, whispering underneath his breath. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Oddly enough, his calming voice is a lot more soothing to listen to compared to the bustling mixture of sounds coming from the gathering. 

You nod, shakingly letting out a breath. “I-I almost felt like I was going to throw up.” 

Namjoon sharply gazes at you with alarm and although you seem to be doing better, his grasp never leaves you. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

Your involuntary assumption is to first contemplate. Contemplate on whether or not it would be a smart move on your part to not be here by his side when he’s clearly interacting with important individuals. But unfortunately, the acidity tickling your throat seems to have an agenda of its own. 

Letting out a sharp cough, you nod and Namjoon instantly looks around for an exit. 

“Namjoon!” A man stands at the end of the hallway, tilting his head in confusion, “What are you doing out here?” 

You recognize him as Kim Yooseon, one of the company’s deal makers. You hear a sound of dismay leave Namjoon and with a heavy sigh, you tug on his suit’s jacket. 

“Just drop me by the entrance.” 

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to protest, “But Y/N‒”

“It’s okay.” You reassure, “It’s more important for you to be in there compared to me. I’ll manage.” 

Namjoon appears to be caught in between agreeing with you and on the verge of letting out a string of protests. However, when you pleadingly glance at him, he can’t seem to say no. 

He ends up dropping you off with his driver just like you had requested and with a persistent gaze, leaves without another word. The moment he vanishes, you let out an audible breath, the proximity he was holding you on top of your nausea becoming more overwhelming then the urge to let your insides all out. 

You’re luckily dropped off back at the house in silence, only seeking out assistance from the driver for a bag in case the urge abruptly hits you in the midst of the ride. He questions if you’re alright and you quickly reassure him just like you had done with Namjoon, before hiking back to the house with swaying feet. 

Alarmingly, another wave of vertigo washes over you, this time with an aftermath of a throbbing sensation cascading through your head. Your stomach swirls at the same time, the hurling urge returning at full force. 

It’s only when you cradle your stomach with your hand and rest against a wall that your vision begins to blur, eliciting a sudden rush of panic that you’re ultimately faulty at coping with. Your feet mismatch and you collapse onto the ground, right in front of the house you needed to be in. 

As your eyes begin to droop and lull back, the sound of heavy footsteps greet your ears. 

***

Your eyelids slowly flutter open, the sight of crystals hanging from the ceiling greeting you. The familiarity strikes you at once, and you instantly scramble up onto your hands. 

You’re sprawled out on the ground, still wearing the maroon gown from the evening. 

“I never knew the L/N’s tried to create their own spies.” The deep voice halts your movement, a trail of goosebumps spreading over your skin, “Not a bad move, if I do say.” 

You don’t spin around right away. Instead, you slowly turn your head to the side, the sight before you distorting your breathing pattern. 

Your body violently trembles and the delicate maroon material you adorn is fisted within your hands. 

He stands against the wall, a familiar box in his hands and the door to the bedroom sealed beside him. Cocking his head to the side, he sends a smirk in your direction. 

“How stupid did you think the Kim family is?” A playful look dances in his eyes, “Are we that easily fooled?” 

At your quivering silence, Taehyung grows dismayed. “According to you, I guess we are.” The sound of metal alerts your ears right away and your eyes grow wide, fixating on the sharp object in his hands. “But don’t worry, you won’t be able to trick anyone after this.” 

You roll over in a flash, instincts thankfully taking over for a split second. Taehyung sighs, yanking out the curved knife from the ground before whirling around and lunging for you again. You’re able to evade him again, rising up onto your feet. 

Your heartbeat petrifying thuds against your chest as you glance around, mind becoming erratic. 

Taehyung sighs again, unclasping the knife in his hands and placing it back into his pocket. For a moment relief fills you, but it’s short lived when a revolver emerges out instead. 

He points it towards you, holding onto the same expression as the first time he aimed a gun in your direction.  

You attempt to swiftly move out of the way, but you’re not as lucky this time around. 

A loud cry escapes your lips and you collapse onto the ground, a pulsing sensation radiating from your left leg. Tears begin to emerge in your eyes and Taehyung appears relieved for once, satisfied he won’t have to chase or hunt you down for this to end. 

He aims the gun down at you. “Goodbye, Y/N.” 

The sound of firing echoes through the walls, and the remainder of the bullet clanks onto the ground. 

Nearly having scratched the surface of the polished floor. 

Taehyung’s eyes are wide and your hand tightens on the metal, having successfully knocked him down with your body weight. His irises darken considerably and a small grin tugs on his lips. 

“What are you waiting for? Shoot.” He chuckles boisterously, like he’s isn’t the one currently on the ground and being confronted with a gun. 

Your mouth twitches, the hot excruciating throbbing in your damp limping leg tingling through your skin. The ends of your fingers tremble the slightest, and it’s something Taehyung doesn’t ponder to take notice of. 

“I knew Namjoon shouldn’t have married a L/N...all of you are always the same....” A devil-like smirk crosses him, voice dropping into a low whisper, “Weak.” 

Abruptly, he’s off the ground, smacking the back of your elbow to loosen your grip. Thankfully, you latch onto the weapon tight enough, gripping it away from his preying hands. 

An echo murmurs through your head. 

“….if you ever are found out, Y/N….. 

....at the split second in discovering your true nature….

He successfully snatches the gun, propelling the hammer back in a hurry. 

….you cannot choose hesitation….

...and the evidence must be destroyed….” 

Once the gun is pointed right against your temples, you hope that Taehyung has prepared himself for a rude awakening.  

A hard punch lands straight on his nose and you grasp onto the gun, aiming it straight for him. 

Taehyung’s eyes are wide, and for the first time you can see fear in them. 

Fear of the emerging coldness that resides in your own. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you fire. 

The sound of a thud greets your ears, and the reeking stench of freshly spilled blood is enough of an answer for your actions. 

***

Small huffs leave your lips, body limping as you walk out of your bedroom. Red residue coats your hands, dripping down your leg as you apply pressure to the metal embedded into your skin. Your other hand still tightly grasps Taehyung’s gun, keeping it securely by your side. 

Slowing turning around, you glance over your shoulder at the corpse on the ground. A grimace runs through your features, but it’s accompanied by a hiss as blood continues to trickle out of your wound.  

You begin to limp ahead, continuing to move forward. 

A tray clatters against the ground. 

You flinch, dilated pupils glancing up and preparing for defense. However, your breath hitches in an instant, terror pooling into them instead. 

Eunjoo stands before you, her shaky hands reaching out to cover her mouth. 

“M-Miss Y-Y/N…?” Her eyes have grown in size and your breathing becomes erratic as they continue to soak in the red staining your gown along with the gun in your hand. That’s when her trail of sight freezes, latching on the body behind you that you have yet to dispose of. 

In that split second, the fear in her eyes morphs into utter rage. 

“Y-You…” Her chest heaves, face flushing red, “Y-You’re a spy.” 

A pang of pain throbs through your heart, “Y-You’ve been a spy this entire time!” Disbelief strikes her, the dots beginning to loosely connect, “Betraying the trust of M-Master Kim...”

Eunjoo’s voice cracks and your eyes screw shut at the sound. 

“A-And me…” There are a thousand regrets laced in her bitter words. Tears begin to form in your eyes, but you fight back the urge to let them drip down your cheeks. 

The sharp sound of silver suddenly greets your ears. You jerk your head up, ignoring the way your vision has started to blur. 

Eunjoo stands in front of you, a butter knife in hand. You’re not given a chance to react one bit when she charges right at you with a cry. 

She’s unarmed and pinned to the ground in an instant. 

You aim your gun straight at her. 

Struggling for a moment, you notice the tears running down her cheeks and the soft sobs escaping her lips. 

“W-Why, Miss Y-Y/N? Why?” 

As she pleads, her frantic state mimics your own. You can’t hold the tears at bay anymore, your bottom lip quivering as they uncontrollably stream down your flushed skin. 

After a pregnant silence, you choke out the words, “B-Because there’s no other way…...” 

Your vision has blurred over entirely, “I’m sorry, E-Eunjoo…..but you’ve seen too much….”

Unlike Taehyung’s eyes, Eunjoo’s aren’t filled with either fear or horror. Instead, there’s just lingering disappointment, and for some reason that makes your heart tighten even more. 

Your hand trembles as you place your finger on the trigger and for once, you keep your eyes wide open when it’s pulled. 

***

The floors are shimmering, a near pearl hue twinkling from their surface. 

There are void from any pieces of glass, the silverware properly tucked away. No scratches litter the outside of your bedroom door, and there are no remains of a static box leftover. 

You steady yourself against the bathroom wall, sliding down until you’re fully seated on the ground. Disinfectant in hand, your leg is raised, now angrily blotched with murky dark red cracking around the small metal pocket. 

Once the area stops stinging and is finally clean, you shakingly inhale, before digging your fingers into the hole. You harshly bite down onto your teeth, a silent scream ready to erupt from the bottom of your throat. 

Metal clinks onto the ground and your shoulders visible relax for a moment, before you take out the disinfectant again. This time around, a sharp needle is plucked in between your fingers. 

The echo of footsteps entering the front door halts your actions, freezing you in place. 

Abandoning the needle, you quickly peer around, confirming that the door was locked. The footsteps continue to grow in sound, and with a haste opportunity, your vision fixates onto the shower tap. 

It’s not long before a knock resonates against the door, “Y/N? Y/N, are you feeling better?” 

Namjoon places his ear against the door, the sound of water sprinkling drawing a frown on his lips. 

“Y-Yeah...I’m feeling much better, Namjoon.” 

He hums, wondering if the water hitting the ground was the reason why your voice sounded deeper and thicker than usual. “Alright….I’ll just be here, if you need anything.” 

You make a sound in approval and he softly smiles, ultimately deciding to head back to bed after a long night. 

Water continues to splash against the surface of the ground as a fine needle quickly moves against your skin. In the midst of this, your hand ceases to tremble and a whimper escapes your quivering lips, right before you erupt into sobs. 

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXX

February 11, 2278.

Ten fifteen in the evening.

I loaded my shotgun and watched the rear, gunfire bursting as the tin cans yelled. This was supposed to be a stealth operation. If only DeLoria hadn’t tripped on that one guard…

Truth be told, this was an absolutely fucking stupid plan. Taking away a comatose patient from the Citadel isn’t the brightest idea DeLoria and I came up with, but we had no other choice. Whatever secret about Percy that Dr. Li wanted us to protect, it seemed important. Seeing how Lyons figured out that she’s a living atomic weapon, I understand her.

DeLoria looks goddamn constipated as he helped me push the gurney with my partner in tow, secured with leather straps so she wouldn’t fly off. In the front, Fawkes soaks up most of the damage.

Of course we had a Plan B if the stealthy approach didn’t work. Thank fuck Fawkes is willing to cooperate, too. This wasn’t the first time we worked together to help Percy out of the tight spot. Then again, Percy got us out of our predicaments first. Knowing her, when she wakes up, she’ll scold us for risking ourselves for her, and for coming up with this awful plan.

Too bad. She can’t stop us now.

“Charon, what now? I only brought a pistol,” Butch yelps, narrowly missing fire.

“We’re gonna let Fawkes soak up the brunt of the gunfire, and we keep pressing forward and watch his six,” I grunted in return.

“Shit, this is a bad idea man! What if they hit Percy?”

“That’s why we’re fucking here to shield her! Are you scared of a little gunfire, DeLoria?!”

The younger man gulped and kept pushing. Our group kept pushing forward, already at the courtyard. How we managed to pull this off is beyond me. I expected to be dead right now.

“Hold your fire!”

Whoever issued the command is old, judging from their voice. Almost immediately, the tin cans stopped shooting.

“Father, what’s the meaning of this?” a more feminine voice called out. “They’re kidnapping a comatose patient! An honorary member of the Lyons Pride! I-”

“Sarah, please, enough. I’ll talk to them,” the Elder says, emerging from the crowd.

Another one of the tin cans interrupts. “Elder, they let in a Super Mutant in Citadel grounds! We-”

The old man gives the soldier a stern gaze, and he backs off. Coming face to face with Fawkes, the elder looks up, a neutral expression on his face.

“Please explain the meaning of this.”

DeLoria rushes over from the rear, facing the old man. “We’re getting our friend out of here! Clearly you assholes haven’t been doing her any good, so we’re transferring her to another hospital.”

“Another hospital?” the younger Lyons interrupts. “Listen kid, the Citadel is one of the few places on the Wasteland equipped to handle Zhou’s injuries.” Armor clinking, she marches towards the greaser, a livid expression on her face.

“What makes you think that whatever ‘hospital’ you’ll be transferring her to is equipped to help her, huh?”

A shouting match erupts between those two. Before things get ugly, Elder Lyons intervenes again, placing himself in front of the greaser and his daughter. Grumbling, I reach out and pull DeLoria back.

“I’ll take it from here,” I griped, and shoved past Sarah Lyons. I came face to face with the Elder, and I folded my arms.

“Before she left, Dr. Li told us she doesn’t think that whatever tests you’re running on Percy isn’t for her best interests. Percy trusted that doctor, so I trust her.”

Blondie scoffs, about to go off on us again, but she stops in her tracks, looking at something, or someone, behind us.

“Then, why don’t you ask Zhou herself, if she wants to stay here or not?”

My eyes widen, and I turn around and see Percy, sitting up on the bed, her restraints loose. I checked again, and no, they weren’t loosened. They were pulled away from the bed, and she’s gripping the leather straps.

My breath caught in my throat.

“Percy,” I mumble, taking slow, tentative steps towards her.

She’s looking blankly ahead, eyes glassy. No. Oh no.

What the fuck is happening?

Rough and calloused, my fingers brush against her arm, and her eyes flick towards me. “Percy? Are you there?”

Letting go of the leather strap, her small hand grips mine, and she exhales sharply, panic rousing within her. Through her hospital gown, I see a sickly green glow pulsing below her throat, at her chest.

Barreling her way through, Sarah Lyons points a minigun at my partner, ready to fire.

“Everyone, get back! She’s going to blow!”

“No!” I screamed at her, and instinct kicking in, I scoop Percy’s frail body in my arms and started to run to the exit.

“Move, fucking move aside!”

My lungs are burning as I run through the Citadel gates, Percy still pressed to my chest, unnaturally warm to the touch. Fawkes is following closely behind, footsteps pounding.

Away from the people, I gently laid Percy to the ground, the green glow emanating from her searing now, and covered her body with mine. If I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go holding her.

Screwing my eyes shut, I wait for the inevitable.

Instead, I was pulled aside, and Fawkes crouches over Percy’s body, careful not to crush her.

A bright, blinding light flashes from Percy’s body, and Fawkes covers her completely. Her body erupts, heat and energy bursting outwards, and Fawkes just absorbed all that. I watched the explosion barely made a dent on the mutant’s thick skin, and the mushroom cloud that billows towards the dark sky.

He pulls back, and Percy lies there, hospital gown in tatters.

I rushed to her side, checking for breathing, and felt my heart drop as I heard none.

“We need a medic, get a medic!” I snarl at the bystanders who witnessed the entire ordeal. After the initial shock has worn off, DeLoria weaves through the crowd and runs towards us, kneeling beside Percy.

“Shit man, shit! She’s not breathing, she needs CPR, oh my fucking God I don’t remember how to do it,” he babbles, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

Gnashing my teeth, I try to remember whatever first aid I learned from observing Percy in the past. I pulled away Percy’s hospital gown, and with my palms together, I pressed between her nipples, pumping and hearing her ribs crack underneath her skin.

I tilt her head, pinch her nose, press my ruined lips against hers, and blow. Twice.

Then, I go back into giving her chest compressions, and I look over my shoulder. I must’ve looked so feral at that moment.

“Where the fuck’s that medic?!”

I turned back to my partner, and after another set of compressions, I breathed into her again.

“Percy, remember what you told me when you got captured by the Enclave, huh?!” I rasped, gritting my teeth.

“Well, it’s your goddamn turn to listen to me now!”

January 14, 2278.

Fingers clacking on the keyboard, Percy hacked away at the terminal. Once given access, she terminates the hostile creatures in the other holding cells. I wince as I watch one particularly screwed up creature burst into flame, high pitched, inhuman squeals coming out of its… mouth?

Jesus Christ. I don’t want to think about it, ugh.

Then, Percy selects another command in the console, and the doors hiss open.

My partner turned around, footsteps urgent, and I followed her closely behind. Fawkes emerges from his cell, carefully, like an animal let loose from a trap, and he turns to us, towering us both.

“Thank you,” he boomed, and though his voice sounded rough, I felt his gratitude for Percy. “As promised, I will retrieve the GECK for you. This is a debt I am most happy to pay, my friends. Follow me!”

Percy smiles and nods, and she turns to me, looking over her shoulder with a pleased expression.

“See Charon? He isn’t bad at all,” she starts, and I only grumble in response. Percy senses the apprehension that lingered in me, and chuckles.

“To be frank Charon, the first time I met you in Underworld, I might have felt the same thing,” she says, and I look down with a questioning look.

“Dad told me to judge other people by what they looked like, but even then, I felt kind of uneasy around you. Then I heard you beat up Patchwork, and I was really angry for a while.”

I gulped. I never thought about what she thinks of me during that time. It was an entirely different reality back then; her thoughts, or anyone else’s, didn’t matter. Only Ahzrukhal’s did.

“But what Tulip said to me about you being Ahzrukhal’s employee really challenged my perspective. Getting back at you would only end in me getting hurt. You were at Ahzrukhal’s mercy as much as Patchwork was.”

“So is that why you bought my contract back then? You felt sorry?”

“No. I felt your frustration at being powerless. So, I bought your contract to create an opportunity to seize that back. Of course it wasn’t easy after that,” Percy chuckles sheepishly, and I sigh, remembering all the times I struggled with the contract’s hold over me.

But it’s gone, right?

No sense in dwelling over that.

“So, where were you going with this, Percy?”

“Give Fawkes a chance.”

I stop in my tracks, feeling guilty as hell. All this time, all I thought about is Percy, and myself. Meanwhile, she tries to consider everyone around her.

“Fine, Angel, I will.”

I felt a light jab on my ribs; Percy elbowed it playfully. “Whatever, big guy.”

“I don’t think that nickname suits me anymore, Percy. We’ve got a bigger guy now,” I tease her, pointing at Fawkes, who’s taking our conversation in stride as he pummeled a dumb mutie in our way.

“Nah. Fawkes doesn’t need a nickname anymore.  You’re my big guy,” Percy teases back.

Is this flirting? Is Percy flirting with me? Goddammit. If I had more skin left on my cheeks, I would have blushed.

I almost ran into Fawkes when he stopped walking. I look to the right, and see the sickly green glow of the irradiated room that the GECK is in.

“Alright. You better not enter, human. This radiation is lethal to you. Stay here, and I will fulfill my end of the bargain,” he grunts, and my partner nods at him.

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

“No. Thank you, human.”

He turns around, and enters the room. On her tiptoes, Percy watches him inside through the window, while I keep watch, guarding her six just in case. Soon after, Fawkes returns carrying a briefcase.

That’s the GECK? What the hell?

“You got it!” Percy exclaims, taking the briefcase off of the super mutant’s hands gingerly. “Again, thank you so much Fawkes. You wouldn’t believe how important this is to us.”

“It’s my pleasure, Percy. Now, I believe this is farewell.”

Farewell?

I turn to Percy and see her somber expression. Good grief, don’t tell me she’s already getting attached to him. This happened with the Big Town kids too.

“Farewell? Fawkes, why don’t you come with us?”

Okay. Okay, I am definitely accepting that Fawkes indeed is good and that I shouldn’t judge him because of him being a super mutant, or metahuman, but this? Had Percy gone mad? Travelling with him could get us killed!

Before I can open my mouth and say something that might possibly anger her, Fawkes already took care of the problem.

“Sorry, I’m afraid a Super Mutant wouldn’t be welcome in the places you frequent.”

“But you said it yourself, you’re a metahuman! You’re different from the other mutants we-”

“All I would do is cause you undue attention and probably get you killed,” Fawkes interrupts, a tinge of sorrow in his grating voice.

“I- you’re right,” Percy sighs, relenting.

“Take care of yourself, friend.”

And with that, we parted ways.

I can tell Percy is sad by the slump in her shoulders. As much as it pains me to see her like this, it’s for the better. The Brotherhood can barely tolerate my presence. Fawkes? They’d shoot him on sight. It’s definitely for his safety too.

“Do you think we’ll see him again, Charon?”

“I don’t think we’ll see him anytime soon.”

“I’m worried.”

“Worry about yourself, angel. Have you seen him? He pummeled that other mutie no problem, like a kid throwing a teddy bear.”

“I guess you’re right. I- Charon, get down.”

Out of instinct, I listen to her. Percy pulls up her PipBoy, and a worried expression is etched on her features. “So many red dots… Charon, I think we’re about to encounter a huge group of muties.”

“Should we go back and get Fawkes?”

Gripping her rifle, she checks the magazine, then she pats at the ammo pouches on her waist. I proceed to check my own ammunition too. Just two boxes of shotgun shells left, and a grenade; the same grenade Percy gave me when she first hired me. I haven’t used it yet, after all these months.

We’re running low on ammo.

“No, no. Stay low. We’ll sneak out of here,” Percy tells me, and she crouches low, the helmet of her stealth suit protracting over her face, then her suit’s stealth mechanism activates. All I can see is a faint silver-white outline.

“I’ll scout ahead. If I raise a fist, move to my location.”

I nod, and she proceeds.

Cautiously, Percy moves through the hall. My grip on my shotgun remains steady, watching her inch slowly but surely to the open area ahead.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

A pulse grenade drops from the ceiling.

It felt like time slowed all around us. Percy sees the grenade landing near her foot, and turns around, movement abrupt, her helmet retracting from her head and revealing her panicked gaze. Her eyes are wide in terror, lips trembling as she yelled at me.

“Charon!”

My feet are ready to take me to her, but what she screamed before the grenade fried her suit’s systems and took her down made me freeze in my spot.

“I order you to live!”

The pulse grenade burst, and so did the walls of the vault. The rubble flew at Percy, who was falling backwards, her helmet thumping against the metal flooring as she hit the ground. Losing consciousness, the GECK escapes her grasp, and skitters a few feet away from her.

From the newly formed hole in the wall, a man emerges. Colonel Autumn. I thought that asshole was dead!

The Enclave is here.

Heart in my throat, I didn’t know what to do. At that moment, I forgot the contract was gone. I turned around, and obeyed, fleeing from the scene with Percy’s words echoing in my head.

“Charon! I order you to live!”

“I order you to live!”

“Live!”

Live.

[fallingoverharrypotter]

If We Make It Through January 7th

Draco and Harry on the wrong side of the holiday season, making the gloom a little bit brighter. Also on AO3 here.

I’m barely through the front door of the place before I catch a glimpse of the man behind the counter and freeze up. Right there in the doorway.

A frustrated cough comes from behind me, and I hear a rude “excuse me.”

I swear. “Sorry,” I move out of their way, back onto the icy cobblestones: the patron flicks me an insincere smile as they hurry into the warmth of the bakery, and the door shuts in my face with a clang. The noise of the store, regular café sounds and music with it. That’s unfortunate, as Diagon still has Christmas jingles incessantly twinkling across the cold brick back and forth down the alley on this side of the new year, and that’s… only one part of the reason I want to enter.

Surely there are other places on Diagon that sell hot drinks and buns this late on a Wednesday. But… I know there aren’t. Even in muggle London.

Going home empty handed on Monday was one thing, but going home empty handed on Wednesday seems out of the question.

The cheerful drawings of smiling faces and steaming pastries on the glass are mocking me - there’s raucous noise of laughter just from the other side of the windows. I’m drawn up close and shivering in my winter robe, and it’s so cold that the warming charms keep wearing off. There are the sludgy remnants of snow on the cobbles, and I had to save myself from a couple of falls on the way down here. The blush on my cheeks is definitely from the embarrassment of the wobbles, but thankfully it’ll be passed off as the bite of the air. He probably won’t realise a difference anyway.

I take a deep breath, and go to reach for the door again, but then my hand stops, barely within my control. I close my eyes and try once more. Breathe deep, hand out to grasp the handle. I pretend not to think about whether any patrons of the bakery are staring at me through the glass. I hypothesise that if this takes me longer than five minutes, I’ll get an Auror called on me for drunk and disorderly, and wouldn’t that truly make my day.

Suddenly, it’s too much. I don’t even want to see his face. Wednesday pastries will just have to go without. It’s a silly tradition anyway. Surely if I’m ever allowed to forgo a habit, it would be as a new year’s resolution. It was his neurotic practice anyway. Probably one of those things I should toss out like I did all the rest of his stuff.

I take another deep breath and point my chin up, stare challengingly at one stupid smiling figure on the glass, and turn to make my way down to the other apparition point at the end of Diagon.

Stupid ex-boyfriends and stupid bleeding-heart holiday seasons. I manage to keep my feet reasonably stable as I walk down the almost icy path on this darker end of the street.

Unfortunately for me, however, a loud noise startles me and I completely wipe out.

A loud grunt expels itself from my chest as my back hits the ground. Thankfully my neck and head seem to be pretty well protected by the thick green scarf I’ve got wrapping me up, but my ass doesn’t fair all that well. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, and groan as I roll over onto my side. I wince when a sharp twinge in my back is set off with my movement.

Thankfully I’m not alone in my predicament, because the noise that startled me was an initial slick sharp sound of a slip against the icy cobbles. I tilt my head up and see heavy black boots, worn just slightly at the sole, and the figure of their owner, a man in amongst a mountain of sludgy snow that someone had just moved to the side instead of vanishing. I mutter to myself about the absolute travesty which is Diagon without proper foot traffic. People here get bloody careless this time of year.

I push myself up by my gloved hands, now soaked, along with the backside of my cloak. “Are you alright?” I half-heartedly direct to the man who I can hear angrily muttering to himself in his current position. I have to pay direct attention to getting my feet under me so that I don’t make another trip, but I do finally stabilise myself. I sigh crossly. My penance for getting so startled is that I don’t immediately get to grab my wand and dry myself off.

The man sighs too. His reply is muffled, but I think I can make out a “yep”. Charming.

He’s not moving though, so I huff out a breath impatiently and wander over to where he lies carelessly under an awning, face shadowed from Diagon’s twinkling lights. Good King Wenceslas chimes out of the charms on the street, and seems to mock me, and I have to force myself to think of how best to rectify this. I hope this guy isn’t drunk. Or maybe I hope he is, so that I can just call the aurors to deal with this.

“Are you pissed?” I ask, just to know.

“I wish.” Is his muffled reply. “Would be a bit less embarrassing if I were, I think.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you get up?”

“Yep.” He repeats, and then groans again as he pulls himself out of the soaking wet, dirty grey cushion, that is the snow bank.

My mouth drops open. “Potter?”

And, yep indeed. It’s Potter. He’s leaning back on gloved hands when he looks up at me quickly and then he groans. Throws his wet haired head back, and those green eyes look up at the awning like he’s berating whatever trickster god pulls his strings of fate. Or, so I assume.

He leans his weight on a single hand and stretches out the other in my direction.

For a second, I think he’s extended it so we can shake hands, before I realise that he just wants a hand up. I flush and hasten – carefully – over. A quick pull from my hand and he does the rest of the work, but he has to grab at my shoulders when he’s upright, a little wobbly.

He looks at me and grimaces. “I’m a danger to myself and others.” His hands release my shoulders, but only, it seems, to brush off bits of snow and dirt off of my coat.

I huff, my breath making a cloud of vapour in the space between us. “Well, I won’t disagree with you on that. Do you need me to go and get someone for you, or can you make your merry way to your reserved bed at Mungos?”

He laughs just a little. “It’s always a pleasure, Draco, honestly.” He’s joking, so I reserve the right to kick him until later. Maybe when he’s a bit less pathetic from the slip. “Are you okay?”

I scowl, and don’t answer his question. “It’s bloody 6pm on a Wednesday. In the middle of winter. After a snow storm. Who’s honestly buying wands this time of year?”

He smiles, winks slightly. “Gotta be made, don’t they?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re chained to your desk. A snowstorm fit for the arctic circle could blaze through here and you couldn’t be moved.”

He laughs. Harry laughs the same way he’s always laughed, and I blush just a little bit, as I’ve always done. I feel a shiver start to come upon me, but I keep it away by share force of will as he continues. “The new year is good for the thestral tail hair.” A dirty glove subconsciously comes up to rub at his wet hair, and he grimaces when he feels it. “Decay, new life, you know. The Death-horses and Winter going hand in hand.”

I smirk as he tentatively tries to rub his dirty glove off against a cleaner part of his cloak. “Cruel of them. Not taking the time to consider your plight.”

“Well,” he challenges, “I doubt it’s a major concern. It’s actually not every day that I slip and fall on the pavement. I survive my walks, mostly.”

“Well,” I answer, “I never slip or fall.” I raise a haughty eyebrow at him, and I can see the humour dust his eyes a little bit more. “Don’t go blaming me for this.”

He rolls his eyes and grimaces. “Why are we still so wet.” He flicks his hand and a wave of annoyingly familiar magic crests itself over my figure until the dirt and the moisture are driven right away. I flick a warming charm over him in thanks.

He seems to pay a bit more attention to his surroundings now that he’s dry and warm. “You just come from Finch-Fletchley’s? You mind reminding him that if the other shops are closed down for the holidays that it’s his job to vanish the snow after a blanketing?”

I avert my eyes, drawn to the bright lights of the bakery. I scowl. “You can tell him yourself, thank you very much.” I take a deep breath, and straighten my back. Keeping some decorum, hopefully. “We’ve broken up.”

Potter’s eyebrows are up when I glance quickly back to his face. He looks at me, and his face is very controlled. He looks at the bakery. “When?”

I swallow. “Week before Christmas, if you can believe.”

He can’t seem to stop himself from whistling sympathetically. Then he winces. “Sorry.”

I shrug, casually. “No matter.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious” I say, pointlessly.

He crosses his arms and looks hard at me. “Oh yeah? What are you doing here, then? Surely not too many muggleborns turning 11 around this time of year.”

Not to back down, and turn to face him properly and cross my own arms. “You know full well that’s not all I do, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like my point doesn’t still stand. What? You doing a lot of muggleborn house calls the week after new year’s?”

“Not every muggleborn celebrates Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Sure, technically. In reality, though?”

I turn away, and don’t answer his questions. He snorts, but then steps a little closer. We’re facing the bakery, because of course we are. O’ Holy Night plays above us. I wonder who chooses these songs.

I hear him take a deep breath in and out. “I really am sorry.”

I sigh, too. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Draco.”

Two weeks and 5 days. If we’re counting. I don’t say this though.

He bumps my shoulder. “Not to pick at the wound, but what areyou really doing here.”

I consider lying to him again, but we’re not really in the business of doing that. It’d just be a bore. And he’s always been… good about things like this. “Christmas.” I swallow. “It gets lonely, you know.”

He hums.

I kick out at the ground with my foot and it slides a little bit too far, and I end up having to take a step forward to balance myself again – Potter grabs at my arm.

He laughs, a little anxiously. “Never slip and fall, huh?”

I ignore that, my face flushed and hot. “We had a tradition. Wednesday pastries at the bakery. I would assume it’s common decency to let someone know in advance if you’re going to break up with them. So that one can plan for these moments, right?” I close my eyes against the lights of Justin’s bakery, feeling unwelcome. “I apologise. I’m morose. It’s not exactly the post-holiday cheer I’m sure you want on a nice evening.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t call this a nice evening.” My warming charm wears off, and he flicks his wrist for another one to settle over us. He lets go of my upper arm, and puts a hand on my shoulder – drags me around a bit to face him. “Fuck him, right?”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not a bad guy, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes right back, and then looks quite serious. “Be a little indulgent with yourself sometimes, Draco.”

I look back at him. He’s only just shorter than me, and I’ve always cherished that fact, but now he almost seems to be towering over me, even with a bit of a slouch to his stand. His messy hair and his shadowed cheeks and under-eyes the likes of which I only really see during the summer break when I’m chaperoning muggle families and their muggleborn children to get their first wands before September. Working too hard. Chained to his desk.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” I blurt out.

His eyes widen. So do mine. The heat in my face expands to a blaze, and I groan as I drop it into my cold gloves. “Merlin, I’m sorry. You just said the indulgent thing, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He grabs at my wrists lightly and tugs a bit, but I don’t budge. “Draco.”

A clang mutely sounds from just up the street, the usual echo of the door in the cobbled street trapped by the snow. “Draco?” I hear, and look up. Startle, because that’s definitely Justin at the door, surrounded in the glow of the lighting. I take a step back almost without thought, and Harry’s grip on my wrist unfortunately makes me lose my balance. I go right down, and he follows. Right on top of me.

I groan loudly, my head and back and arse all once again wet and cold. Harry groans too, and his warm weight gets off me very quickly, tugging me up by my hands, and then a hand tight on my waist to right me. I don’t step out of his grip immediately, too overcome with the situation. Ready to take another crack at the cobbles and see if this time I brain myself.

“Hell, Draco,” Harry mutters, and then grabs his wand to get the wet and the dirt off the both of us again. Another of his beautiful warming charms settles over my body. “We’re even now, okay? No more falls, for god’s sake.”

Justin has wandered a bit closer by the time I look away from Harry’s face, a little consternated. “Draco? Are you okay? Merlin, what are you doing standing out here?”

I don’t respond. Harry coughs. “That’ll be me. I basically tripped him earlier, and we got talking.”

Justin’s eyes widen just a little, and he looks at Draco in concern. “In this weather? It’s freezing! I’ll grab you mug of spice cider, alright?”

“No,” I say, finally finding my bloody voice again. “No, I’m fine. And anyway.” I shoot a glance at Harry. “We’re tied one-for-one.” Harry smirks.

Justin continues when I look back to him. “Dray, come on. A cup of cider, a bite to eat.”

I shake my head, wanting this day to be done with already. “I’ve got plans.”

Justin eyes get just a little softer. “Come on, please?”

“He does. Have plans.” Potter says, and my neck twinges with how fast I turn to look at him. “We’re going to dinner.”

Justin goggles, just a little, looks between Harry and me. There’s a certain part of me – a different part to the one that’s processing whether or not Harry means what he said about dinner – that’s a little vindictively pleased about Justin’s reaction. “Oh!” Justin says. “Okay, no… No worries!” He meets my eyes, and I flush. “It was good to see you. Please, do come around. The staff miss you, you know.”

I smile politely. “Thanks, Justin.” I stand a little taller, and nod to him. “Take care.”

“You too.” And he grins kindly, lifting a hand to Harry and me, before hastening back into the warm sanctuary of his bakery. The door does its little muted clang again as it closes. My mouth – still sitting in a polite smile – relaxes, leaving a little pain in my cheeks.

Harry hums. “Do you ever think that we’re all a bit toomature now?”

Surprisingly, I laugh loudly at that. I’m nodding even before I get the words out. “Yes. I’d almost wish to be fifteen again and have a real proper tantrum about this.” I sigh, laugh a little again. “But, you know. Fifteen-year-old me? Good riddance.”

“I don’t know…” Harry trails off, “there were some redeeming qualities. He was certainly a creative sort.”

I goggle at him, and immediately stop when I realise that I’m imitating Justin to some extent. “Stop having me on.”

Harry… laughs. “Yeah, I’m having you on. You were a right bastard.”

I shake my head, and turn away from the lights of the bakery, and start walking. He’ll surely catch up.

“I was serious.” Harry says, and I turn my head a little to let him know I’m listening as I walk. “About dinner.”

“I assumed so,” even though that’s a bit of a lie.

“And,” Harry catches up. “I mean ‘dinner’ as in. A date.”

I’m not proud of this, but I slip. Just a little. “Fuck,” I say as I try to catch myself. Thank goodness that Potter’s a bit more onto it, though. He just grabs my arm, and an arm around my back. Straightens me up.

“Bloody hell, I should have talked to him about the snow vanishing,” Harry’s saying as I brush off my cloak to hide my flush. “It’s all the Diagon Business Association talks about during winter, I don’t know what he’s on-”

“Harry.”

He stops and looks at me. Christmas music is still playing, and its still grating, but goodness the lights work well on his complexion. And his eyes.

I smile, just a little. “We’ve got dinner plans, I thought? We could talk about this there, surely?”

He laughs.

[keijikunn]

Memories ─ part i

── A @celestialarchiveshq collab “Connected by fate”

Pairing: Semi Eita x fem!reader Tags: college!au, kinda angst i guess, fluff, SLOW BURN, maybe strangers to lovers!au Summary: On the last day of the year, you dream of your soulmate’s most impactant memory that happened within the year. Each memory will be different each year. Word count: ~3.6k

Author’s note: I’m late and I’m so so sorry! I said I’d comeback by the end of January, but here we are in March lol. I can explain why I took so long in another post, if you want, but anyways. Here’s my piece from the soulmate!au collab from @celestialarchiveshq ! I decided to break it into pieces, because so far I have 9k words and you don’t deserve this. Anyways, hope you enjoy and stay tunned for the next part!

WARNINGS: insecurity, mention of injury (it’s a broken arm), self-esteem issues, let me know if I forgot anything 

MEMORIES’ MASTERLIST

You didn’t know who your soulmate was, the little information you had about them was that you only knew they were a boy and had a huge passion for volleyball and music. But one thing that you knew for sure about him was that he desperately needed a hug. Not because he’s supposedly your partner for life, your one true love, your missing piece. No. Your soulmate mark taught you things are more than that, that there’s more colours than just black and white, more than just simple and exact definitions. 

Being able to access his most important memory of the year through a dream was both a blessing and a curse. The first one is quite obvious, it meant your soulmate had overall a good year, no bad day overshadowed the good ones. However, when the second case occurred, it pained you to know that he went through a lot, and you couldn’t do anything. 

It was hard to predict how much a couple of consecutive bad memories could have changed your soulmate. Knowing only an hour or so piece of the 8760 hours of the last year, let you little to no room to guess how he coped with it. You couldn’t help but think what did he do to deserve all the insecurities and self-doubt he’s been receiving. What happened to the sweet boy that still believed hard work was worthy?

2004 (age of 10)

Your soulmate was running towards his front door, ignoring his young sister’s whines to slow down, but he didn’t pay attention. He was eager to see what was the surprise his father told him before he left for school. What could it be? Your soulmate’s voice, a pitch higher due to his age, resonated inside his head. 

“Mom, dad, I’m home!” He exclaimed, kicking out his shoes to quickly enter the living room; only to receive a stern look from his mother, pointing with her fingers his shoes, indicating he had to organize it. “Okay, I’m doing it.”

“Mom! Nii-chan didn’t wait for me when I asked!” His sister, Aime, complained, closing the door behind her. 

The older woman scolded the young boy, who scratched the back of his neck, apologizing to his sister next. The feeling of excitement filled his body once again when his father, still wearing the shirt and pants from his suit, appeared in his vision, holding a large package. 

“Welcome back, kids.” He grinned, placing the mysterious box on the floor to spread his arms so Aime could jump into his embrace. Your soulmate did not waste time to approach his father, who messed up with his hair. “Son, are you ready for your surprise?”

“It’s not fair that nii-chan’s getting a present! It’s not even his birthday.” Aime whined, both parents exchanged a brief smile, before the mother held onto her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the sofa next to her brother. He was almost jumping on his seat, bouncing his legs as if that motion would stop him from throwing himself at the box to open it. 

“The reason why me and mama decided to gift nii-chan is because he listened very well to us,” the older man started to explain. “Do you remember what he asked us a few months ago, Aime?”

“I asked if I could get my own guitar!” Your soulmate piped in, almost bursting into happiness as he connected the dots. 

“And we talked to you two about it, right?” Their mother continued, instigating her children to remember the topic of that conversation. 

“Mama and papa said that if we dedicate ourselves to something we really want, they could get us what we asked.” The young girl replied obediently. 

“Nii-chan has been dedicating himself to his guitar lessons, so we thought about rewarding his hard work.” Their dad finally announced what your soulmate had guessed all along, a smile spreading on his face. After receiving a light nod from them, the boy immediately put his hands on the wrap, tearing it apart to reveal a beautiful guitar. “We’re expecting extra hard work from now on, buddy.”

“I will!” He exclaimed, hugging both parents tightly, cheeks hurting from his large grin. “Thank you so much!!”

September, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

The memories were blurred in your mind, though all feelings and sensations burned in your heart whenever you remembered it. You always saw them in your soulmate’s perspective, being privileged enough to have a piece of his happiness - or cursed to feel the sadness that washed over in other years. 

It was perhaps his fault that you got so hooked on music and learned how to truly appreciate it, you somehow felt connected with him, as if it was a language only you two knew. It didn’t really matter the genre of the music, you could listen to an indie band from your college or a worldwide superstar; your heart knew how to stay tuned to different frequencies, absorbing the perfect high notes to the bass riff that made your bones shake.

That was how you met this eccentric lead vocal and guitarist from a rock-ish band in your college department, a guy with ash blonde hair, narrowed eyes and a voice filled with unsaid emotions. Semi Eita appeared to be angry at anyone at any time of the day, quick to offer snarky replies with his sharp tongue. It could be just a persona he created as his band progressively became well-known around college, or could be just himself and his lack of interest in people in general. 

You got to know him through your friend - and the band’s drummer - Akihiko, after one of their performances on a local live-house most college students go on a Friday night. Semi sat far from his bandmates, who were talking excitedly with each other and a couple of friends, with the same scowl you’ve seen in a picture Akihiko once showed you. 

“Guys, this is my friend Y/n,” he introduced you as soon as you two entered the small backstage room reserved for the performers. “She’s really into music, so I decided to invite her to one of our presentations.”

“It’s nice to meet you all!” You exchanged greetings, while you noticed the lead vocal just rolled his eyes and busied himself with his phone. “I enjoyed it a lot today! I could feel every instrument resonating through my body. Please invite me for your next performance!”

Throughout the whole night you hang out with the band, Semi stayed quiet on his own, enjoying a bottle of beer too lost inside his head. His bandmates reassured you he was fine, the guy wasn’t a fan of gathering with friends or any sort of social contact - which was ironic to say the least, after all, he spends his free time entertaining people. 

Despite the singer’s wish to avoid contact, many girls - and guys - approached him perhaps to initiate a small talk, or maybe to end up on a secluded corner of the live-house with their mouths on his. His quite mysterious façade was intriguing, you even admitted it to yourself, as a possible explanation to his “fame” around people, and maybe that was the reason he attracted many people. 

You only got the chance to have a proper conversation with him on the next band rehearsal, which Aikihiko invited you per the other’s request. Inside the soundproof studio, you sat on a chair across Semi, who was too busy tuning his guitar to care about your gaze on him. He still sported the same scowl in his face, however, this time you could notice a hint of excitement - maybe even a silent love towards his instrument and what he was able to do with it. 

“Are you done staring at me?” Semi asked angrily, lifting his head from the tuning keys he had just finished adjusting. “Why are you here? Aren’t you Akihiko’s hookup or something?”

“First of all, ew!” You exclaimed, face contorting in a grimace at the thought. “I know him too well to feel attracted! Besides, he permanently smells like cigarettes, it’s awful.”

“Just wait until he arrives, the studio will be infested by this shit.” He replied with a huff, rubbing his hand against his face. “For real, though, why are you here?”

“The other guys invited me to watch you practice,” you said, then leaning down to grab a notebook from your bag by your foot on the floor. “They think watching you play will help me with an activity I have to turn in before the winter break.”

“What is it?” Semi seemed interested, you noticed, putting his guitar on its support, crossing his left leg. Although you two were talking for a couple of minutes, you still felt a cold barrier between you two. It was quite noticeable as how the lead singer guided the conversation, questioning you and your reasons to be there.

“I attend the music course as an extracurricular activity, and I have to produce a song by the end of the semester.” The room fell in silence, but you could almost hear the gears in Semi’s head turning. “And I’m also here to convince you to sing for my project.”

“No.”

“Expected.” You laughed amused as Semi’s eyebrow twitched at your response. “Do you like barbecue? I can take you to an expensive restaurant as a payment.”

“You’re not gonna bribe me.” He stated, narrowing his eyes to send you sharp looks. In response, you smirked at his reaction. Just like Akihiko told me he would react.

“You’re right, I’m not gonna bribe you,” you mirrored his posture: left leg over the right one, arms crossed on the chest. But, contrary to him, you opened a smile, though your eyes screamed at the challenge in front of you. “I’m going to make you agree with me.” 

October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

A month has passed since your very first talk with Semi Eita, and although you didn’t make any progress regarding your project, you’re getting to know a bit more about the real Semi - not just the cold façace he shows. He is indeed quick with comebacks, hot tempered - especially when he’s talking about music, the boy stands still for his beliefs in what would be better for the band - but, Semi seems to have a huge wall separating his deepest sides from his friends. As if something holds him back from being true to his feelings. 

“C’mon, Semi, we’re having a movie night,” Akihiko whined once again. “Stop watching this volleyball game and let me start choosing the movie!”

“He won’t budge Akihiko, it’s his friends playing.” The bassist, Takeshi, laughed at the rather unilateral discussion: the lead singer’s eyes were still trained on the screen, watching carefully every movement; while the drummer tried to snatch the remote control from the other’s grip. “You should know by now that he analyses carefully every Ushiwaka’s movements to scold him later.”

“I don’t do that!” Semi spoke up, diverting his gaze from the TV, proceeding to push Akihiko away from him. “Ushijima doesn’t need my comments. He never did, anyways.”

“So, the famous Semi Eita is also a sportist?” You teased him, nudging his left left leg with your foot, since you were half laying on the couch. “And has his phone number? Impressive.”

“Our lead singer had the honour to play on the same team as Ushijima Wakatoshi.” Akihiko threw his arm forcefully around the ash blond haired boy, earning a groan in protest. “And played against the Adlers’ setter, right? And you lost, right?”

“You don’t have to remember me, Akihiko-san, thank you very much.” He removed his bandmate over himself to look at you. “And I’m not a sportist.”

“How come not, Semi?” Takeshi retorted rhetorically, the smile on his face gave away his enjoyment in teasing him. “You had a sport scholarship in Shiratorizawa, you have to be at least great in volleyball!”

“Yeah…” Semi muttered lowly, lowering his gaze to the wooden floor of Akihiko’s apartment, clearly bothered by the turn the conversation took. “Choose the movie, I’ll make the popcorn.”

As he left the room, the other two guys exchanged looks, and you kind of deduced they went too far in this topic. To say you were curious about why him attending such a powerhouse school was delicate was an understatement, the urge to get up and follow him to the kitchen and shoot him questions was undeniable high - but you weren’t a senseless person.

Another part of Semi Eita’s personality presented itself to you, holding as many secrets as the façade he shows to everyone else does. You couldn’t help but think about how many experiences he went through to close himself like that, but more than that, you tried to imagine what kind of story Semi could tell through a song. That was the reason why you wanted so bad his participation in your project. 

Semi Eita could tell a great story if he wanted to. And you would try your best to make it happen. 

2008 (age of 14)

Your soulmate slowly dragged himself back home from school, body sore and longing for a long hot shower to relieve the stress of his muscles. Finals were taking a toll on him, especially when he was about to graduate middle school and needed to pave his way to good high schools. The sidewalk was slightly slippery due to the recent melted snow, droplets of water occasionally hitting his uniform’s pants near his ankles. 

Soon enough, he found himself opening the front door, being welcomed by a warmer environment. The young boy removed his shoes and heavy coat, greeting tiredly his mother and sister, who were both in the kitchen making dinner. Your soulmate headed to his bedroom ready to throw himself on his bed, wishing the mattress could swallow him. However, as soon as he turned the lights on, a white envelope with a familiar purple logo on the table caught his attention.

His hands worked quickly in tearing the material apart, removing a single sheet from the inside. The euphoria already dominated his senses, eyes barely proceeding to read the name of the institution at the top of the paper - but he knew which one was. His eyes scanned the words, eagerly searching for what he was wishing to himself for the past few weeks. 

“Mom!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, running out of his room to find her. “I made it! With a sports scholarship!”

“Oh my gosh, congratulations!” The woman cheered, drying her hands on her apron to involve her son in a tight embrace. His cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling, but the bursting sensation of pride in his chest made up for that.

I am good at something, after all. I made it to a huge school through my volleyball abilities. 

I’m not replaceable. 

Mid October, 2017 (current time, age of 23)

“What the heck happened to you?” The words left your mouth before you could even think after you entered the usual studio the band usually rehearses. Akihiko was seated behind his set of drums, scrolling aimlessly through his phone; and Takeshi finished setting up his bass on the amplifiers. But what surprised you the most was the cast on Semi’s left arm, holding it in a position he couldn’t stretch it. 

“Hi, Y/n,” Semi waved cynically with his right hand, “I am fine, thank you for worrying about my well being.”

“We need your help.” Both Akihiko and Takeshi said. 

“Why do I feel it’s related to the fact Semi broke his arm?” You questioned, glaring at the lead vocal suspiciously. 

“The band has a presentation in a week and Semi can’t play the guitar for obvious reasons,” the bassist started approaching you, offering you a bright yellow pick - which you accepted, still not sure about the end of the conversation. “We’re lacking a guitarist, but Akihiko said you’re pretty good, right?”

“Uh… maybe?” 

“What Takeshi is trying to say is,” Semi cut his bandmate, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “We need you to play the guitar as support for our next concert.”

It was unexpected, you thought with yourself, by the little you knew about Semi and his relation to music, you imagined he would ask any close friend of his that he trusted. Perhaps Akihiko mentioned you know how to play, he could have even shown him a few recordings you did in the college studio. Either way, hearing Semi inviting you was a surprise. 

“Sure, I guess?” Your answer sounded more like a question, evidencing your state of confusion and unsureness. “Wouldn’t you guys want someone else, though?”

“No.” The ash blonde hair boy answered without hesitation, once again surprising you. “You’ll do it just fine.”

You quickly exchanged looks with Akihiko, in hopes to discover that it was a huge prank or even a childish comeback from Semi regarding your stubbornness of having his vocals on your project. However, the drummer nodded his head; his facial expression didn’t give any sign of mischievousness like it usually does.

Semi stopped in front of you, handing you his own guitar. The instrument felt foreigner in your grasp, as if a simple guitar held secrets and hidden feelings of its owner - and it might do. You felt oddly connected to the guy in front of you, the same one who denied every invite of yours to sing for a couple of minutes for an extracurricular project. 

As your fingers strummed the strings, you noticed how perfectly tuned the guitar was and you were quickly to mentally facepalm yourself. It’s obvious Semi Eita would take such a good care of his guitar, the boy loved music after all. After adjusting the strap over your shoulder to fit your much smaller stature than the owner’s, you played a couple of chords to make the final adjustments on the amplifiers. 

“So, tell me the setlist I need to work on.” The three men smiled gratefully at you - though Semi’s looked more like a grimace, but you understood. They proceeded to fill you up with plenty of songs and minor details you should be aware of about their style, rearragended chords.

The hours flew by while you were in the studio with the band, the four of you fell in a good synchronization - if an outsider saw the rehearsal, they would never guess you weren’t the main guitarist. Playing with them felt familiar, all your frequencies merged into one smoothly, even easily. You adapted yourself to Akihiko’s excitement and Takeshi’s quirks during his solos, but the easiest one to work with was Semi. 

His style of singing fitted perfectly with your own strumming habits, even the occasional exchange of looks was easily understood between you two. He seems to be too arrogant on stage, pretending as if he was the best amaetur performer in college - but in a sense, Semi could think like this. The way he easily went with the flow with a new element in the studio, someone he has never seen playing before. 

“Great job, guys!” Akihiko exclaimed, clapping his hands a couple of times. You put the yellow pick on the top of the amplifier and cracked your knuckles, feeling your fingers a little stiff from the almost two hours rehearsal. And you did well, Y/n, you even remembered all the chords!”

“Akihiko!” Your whine made both the drummer and the bassist laugh. “I can remember things, okay?”

“Then tell me why can’t you remember your soulmate’s memories?” He wiggled his eyebrows, daring you to answer him. When you didn’t reply, he snorted. “You can’t even defend yourself on that! Anyway, we rented the studio for another hour, but I have some business to solve at home. Feel free to stay until the end, okay? Thank you for the practice!”

“Thank you.” You smiled, sending off the drummer. While you quietly went through the songs you weren’t familiar in the setlist, Takeshi bid farewell to you and Semi - leaving you two alone. “If you wanna leave, just let me know and I’ll stop, okay?”

“You are good,” Semi complimented you, not answering your statement. “Akihiko-san wasn’t lying after all, you are indeed good.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” The studio was filled with rhythmical strums, following your favourite song of the list while you quietly hummed the lyrics. “I suppose Akihiko showed you a few things I did for the course.”

“Actually, he didn’t,” His response caught you off guard, your right hand stopping its motion in the middle of the song’s bridge. “And I suggested your name as support. I kind of wanted to see what’s up with you and music.”

“And what do you think, Semi?”

“Why do you want me to sing your song for the project?” He asked, ignoring your question completely. You arch your eyebrows in surprise, earning the same gesture - as if he was inciting you to answer him. 

“I strongly believe that music has an unique power to deliver messages. It could be the lyrics, the instrumental or just the performance… everything has a meaning.” You stated, adjusting the guitar in your lap properly; eyes fixed on the man in front of you. “From my point of view, after watching you perform and how you interact with music, I imagined you have some deep feelings buried inside of you that could be delivered through a song. Somebody could relate to you and feel grateful for you expressing something they might couldn’t.”

“I’ll do it.” Semi said after a few seconds in silence, surprising you. When you looked at his face, a small smile adorned his features. You mirrored his expression, though yours were much larger in order to convey your happiness. 

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[ramp-it-up]

Fresh Squeeze, Ch. 5

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Cursing, Angsty Angst, drug and alcohol use, surprise flights, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot.

Word Count: 3.5 K

Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible.  They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love. 

A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together. And don’t come for me about Anthony.

Read the Previous Chapter.

===================

NYC, May 2023

Jasmine was blowing up your phone as you were trying to get dressed.  You had to search for it under the pile of clothes on your bed.

You had procrastinated getting ready, trying to finish one of your applications for a summer internship at this law firm in Harlem that you were excited about.  

You wanted to finally relax after finishing Columbia law in the top 10% of your class. You just wanted to relax and enjoy this weekend.

Craig, your mom and your uncle were the only ones to attend your graduation.  They knew you didn’t want any fanfare, so your famous friends didn’t attend, and they had a show to do, but they’d sent you tons of well wishes.

We're coming up, get decent!

You chuckled and shook your head. Anthony usually raided the refrigerator when he came over. This time, you told him to bring his own snacks..

You slipped on what you were wearing for the night.  Craig was in his room getting ready and you had volunteered his place, so you were playing hostess. You were surprised that he was so chill about it, actually. 

“Pika Pika,” you said to yourself in the mirror then ran to answer the doorbell. It was almost 6 pm.

You opened the door for Cookie Monster and Big Bird.  You burst out laughing. But you stopped when you saw Anthony's face. He had like five bags from Whole Foods that he was juggling in his blue arms.

"Jazzy!!!! There's my girl.  Hey Ant! leave the food and your girl. We may run off together."

Anthony came in the door loaded down with bags and kissed you on the cheek.  

“I love you Lindy, but fuck you man.” You punched him on the shoulder. 

“Ow! Time to get this party started!”

Linden heard Jazzy’s Brooklyn accent turn into a London lilt as she started play fighting with Ant. They felt like family at this point.

=================

Ever since the launch party in January, Jasmine had pursued you as a friend persistently. You normally didn’t let anyone in because of the circumstances of your life, but Jas was oblivious to your awkwardness with normal human beings.

“Girl, you are fucking DOPE, and you are NOT gonna deny my love.  I know your life has been a trip, and you don’t have to tell me all of it, but I’m not gonna let you shrivel up and be a little retiring wallflower. Life is to be lived.” 

Jasmine telling you that during a Saturday brunch date in February was the key to your heart. She drew you out, and you didn’t see what value you added to her life.

But she loved you anyway. And you loved her, and of course, Anthony was part of the package.  

He was beautiful, loud, talented, and reckless, but he reminded you too fucking much of Dell to be annoyed with him very long.

Your circle had certainly widened from just Craig. That was one thing for which you could thank Mark. You were working on him being a distant memory.  He hadn’t lasted too long in Bay Boys, quitting soon after the musical opened in March.  

Daveed’s hands and feet had ‘slipped’ one too many times during the scene when he was stomping his ass on stage. Mark cited health reasons, and publicly spiraled a bit. He was currently in rehab. 

Again. 

You had not heard from him and that was absolutely fine with you.

Because Jasmine was in Bay Boys and that was her life, the cast and crew became yours as well. Rafael was the type of chaotic creative genius that fascinated you; you could listen to him talk for hours.  

Things with Daveed were more tricky. Ever since that awkwardness with him after the launch party, you’d kept your distance, but you hung out a lot, so you were trying to be friends.

When you and Jas and Ant and Rafa hung out and talked, Daveed was there, smiling shyly and sneaking glances at you, throwing in pearls of wisdom every so often. 

He was so dope and so talented and intelligent and so freaking hot, but you were trying to get yourself together.  You were convinced that night in January had been a mistake. 

You needed some space. And time.  Law school was no joke, and you were in therapy so entanglements was not what was up.

Daveed sensed your hesitancy and decided to stop pursuing you. But he couldn’t stop how he felt.

You were both a little wasted and keyed up the night of the launch party, and despite the way you were beautiful and intelligent and sexy as fucking hell, he was not going to press you. 

Daveed was sure that you two could be something special if you would give it a chance, but he didn’t want to chase you, but he was so gone for you, that if you just nodded your head at him, he would be at your feet.

The attraction was undeniable. There was a crazy little dance you two did that everyone recognized and respected.  This group seemed to know you were fragile, and that you didn’t need to be pushed too far.

But the more they persisted, the more you came out of your shell.  The more you trusted, the more the old Lindy came back. 

Craig noticed first soon after you started hanging with the crew when you were trying to find a place to live. He went to one showing with you and sat you down for a talk.

“Girl, I love the light in your eyes.  I haven’t seen this Lindy since…well in a long time. Stay with me for as long as you want. I know you need to get through this last semester of school, you don’t need one more thing to think about. I’m proud of the work that you’re doing on yourself, Linden.”

You were grateful to Craig.  His place on the Upper West Side was super convenient to Columbia, and not having to think about finding a place was so clutch.  Third year was kicking your ass.

“Besides, I wouldn’t have this place if it wasn’t for…”

“Hush,  I don’t want to hear that.  Dell would have wanted this. I love you cuzzo.” 

=================

Craig came out in a Sully onesie and immediately dragged Jasmine into a conversation about the Met Gala that had happened a few days ago. 

You approached the kitchen where Ant stood, food all around him on the counter. You were whispering. He smiled a secret smile at you.

“I’m so proud of you doing this for Jasmine.  It’s good for you all to get away. I’m glad that she got a little break. She deserves it all.”

Anthony had arranged for this little get together to be a surprise for Jasmine. This was going to be a kickback weekend.

The show was on a four day hiatus while the set was moved to a bigger theatre.  It was a hit and was destined for a long run.

Ant’s green eyes lit up as you kept talking about Jasmine.

“Yeah, she does. And the woman of the hour deserves all the happiness in the world.” He lifted his beer to you.

They way he said that was weird and you were about to ask him what was up with that when the doorbell started ringing, you went to answer it and were stuck there for a few minutes as people started coming in. 

The food and the drinks were flowing while all kinds of characters came in. 

Now they also had Jack Skellingtom, and a Care Bear in the house to add to Big bird, Cookie Monster, Pikachu and Sully. It was an odd cast of characters who were jamming to 90's rap, eating chicken wings and basically tripping like only friends could do.

Then there was Toni, some tag-along chick who showed up with Rafa.  She had on a plain gray onesie.  What a downer.  

You’d  pegged her for  a star fucker who only hung with Rafa because of who he and his friends were.  The girl was too much in everyone's business. 

"Sooooo. You and Mark ARE broken up for real for real. The tabloids say y’all are back together!  I told my friend Susie you weren’t, but she wouldn't believe me."

You  just smiled and didn't confirm or deny, treating Toni like the paparazzi. The girl was oblivious to your hate and just kept talking.

Daveed rescued you. 

"Hey, Toni, show these folks how you can blow. They're setting up the karaoke machine over there. Show us what you're working with. Someone might hook you up with a gig."

Toni perked up and hurried over to Anthony and Craig, who were setting up the lyrics on the big screen to match the karaoke music. Some Bad Boy joints were up.

Rafa was behind them screaming, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan!" 

They were a scene.  You  breathed and relaxed a little.

"Don't stress. She's not coming with us  to the island."

You looked up at the tall, fine Grumpy Care Bear who was nursing some of your special 18-year-old Chivas Regal that you had gotten for graduation. His beautiful smile shined out of his brown face and beneath the curls tumbling out of his hood. 

“I’m not pressed. I’m chilling. You can do what you want. With who you want.”

“She’s not with me. Rafa brought her for the ride to the airport. And it’s not entirely true that I can do what I want. With who I want. Because what if who I want to do doesn’t want to do me?”

You knew what he meant. But you eyed his drink instead of looking at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him. That was far from the truth. You didn’t want to get lost in him. And you could see that happening.

Daveed saw your wheels turning. You were over analyzing again.  He’d spent three months observing you every chance he got. He felt like he knew your anxieties.  So fucking smart, but here you were thinking too much.

"Hey Genuis Ass. Want some?" Daveed’s voice was softer as he grinned and offered you some of his drink.  “Or, I could go make you something?” For some reason he wanted you to get loose. 

"Nah, I'm good Diggs.”  For some reason you needed to stay in control.  You played it off by changing the subject. 

“I still can’t believe y’all call me that.” 

Daveed just smiled and nodded, chuckling a little. He craned his neck and looked at it, having to dodge a smack upside the head.

“That ass is genius, you know. That’s the one thing He Who Shall Not Be Named was right about. And you’re one of the smartest humans I know.”  

You had to look at him then. The flecks of gold in his eyes tho.  But you could tell from the slight redness that he was a little zooted.  He didn’t get that way around you a lot, but you knew for the stories that he partied occasionally. 

He and Rafa and that Toni chick must have pre-gamed.  You remembered the last time you two were  tipsy together.You cleared your throat and looked away.

“Why did you lie to that girl? She can’t sing.” You were shaking your head, scowling at Toni’s screeching from the karaoke machine.

He winked at you. D was well on his way to getting LIT.

"What? She can blow.”  Daveed sipped his drink and watched her. 

“She’ll suck your soul out and spit it back in your mouth." Daveed was loose. And so was his mouth. But he didn’t care.

Your mouth was hanging open at Daveed as you wondered what Daveed had done with Toni, what Daveed AND Rafa had done with Toni... 

Shit, you were just going to ask.

"How do you know that she..."

"AWWWW SHEEEIIIITTT! THAT'S MY JAM! REMEMBER THIS LINDY??"

“No, I was like, negative 5..”

You raised your voice as he traveled away from you, smiling. He was not slick.

“Well you missed out being tardy to the party…” 

He was backing toward the mic, knocking it out of Anthony’s hand and starting the rap. Rafa joined him, trading verses.

Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,

Well, it's the underground,

You know that we're down with wutchyalike

Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah

And though we're usually on the serious tip, check it out:

Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,

We're gonna say what we like.

'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many people in the flow,

Would like to just let yourselves go

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, well tonight's your night.

Just eat food, try not to be crude or rude,

Kill the attitude, chill the serious mood,

And doowutchyalike,

Yeah, and doowutchyalike,

Everybody doowutchyalike

Everyone was dancing and Daveed had effectively deflected your question. But you would never forget.

By 8 o’clock, Craig grabbed the mic and motioned for Jasmine to come with him. You had enjoyed some cocktails finally, and just figured they were going to duet Wind Beneath My Wings just like they always did. 

You were actually moving to the music and feeling good.

"Ok guys, whew.  I'm hot.  Is it hot in herrrre?" Craig was fanning himself.

“Whoooo! Nelly!”

You yelled and everyone laughed.

Craig took his hood off and started to unzip his onesie. Jasmine did the same.

You kept dancing nervously, not realizing it, looking around at the others who were also disrobing. You did a double take as D’s abs came into view.  What was going on?

Craig continued.

"Lindy, I just need a minute to talk, can you stop whatever it is you're doing?"  He grinned at you from across the room. "You're still moving Lindy."

You blushed and stopped fidgeting.

"Ummm, Craig, what the..."

One by one people dropped their onesies, all except Toni, who had no clue what was going on. Soon, everyone was standing in Craig’s condo in their swimsuits, looking fine as hell. 

You just looked around, then in your cup wondering if you were too drunk and hallucinating.

“Lindy, you’ve worked real hard, and this past few months have been crazy, so we wanted to do something special for you this weekend, for your graduation, and for your birthday, WHICH IS SUNDAY!!”

Everyone cheered as Jasmine took the mic. “You think this party is for me. Well the joke’s on you bitch, because you have been hosting your own party!”

You opened your mouth, squeaked a little, then spoke,

"But why?.. Everybody?  But what..."

Daveed moved close.

"Damn, you fine," you whispered. 

Your hand flew to your mouth when he smirked in response. Everyone was rolling because turns out, you didn’t whisper.

Daveed cleared his throat. "Thank you. You’re fine yaseif. Anyway, Anthony and Jasmine have a house there, and we’re flying out of JFK tonight.  In about two and a half hours in fact. So we gotta get going.”

You still had only a part of a clue of what was going on. But you couldn't resist all of this.

"Okay? But... I don't have any clothes. And I don’t have a ticket..."

Craig came from the storage room off the kitchen with one of your suitcases. Others started getting their bags as well

"Everybody's shit has been in my house for a week. And girl, you know I got your information. It ain’t nothing but a thang.  Your ticket is ready and waiting. Just sent it to your email.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at Craig as everyone pulled their onesies back up and got their bags together.

Your eyes filled with tears that you hurriedly brushed away. Craig came over and hugged you. Then every else joined in for a group hug.

"You deserve, Lindy. Let us celebrate you."

You looked like you didn't quite believe it, but you went along. You laughed, visibly deciding to go with the flow.

"I'm down!"

Toni was nearby. When the hug broke up, she started asking questions.  Your  patience was wearing thin.

"I don’t believe that all these people really roll like this. Y’all wild. Susie won that bet."

You just continued to look at this fool.

"But isn’t this dope?  All these famous, successful men being so fearless with their love and appreciation for Black women, of all people. Who woulda thunk they didn't want white women?"

Toni just kept saying the wrong thing. It was the "of all people" for you.

You stared daggers at your houseguest. Toni caught the look.

"Wait, are you mixed?"

You narrowed your eyes and said, "Black mixed with Black."

Toni clutched her pearls.

"Oh wow. Didn't mean to offend. I just mean everyone knows Jasmine is mixed, with her dad and all, as black as can be. But her white British mom saved her from his skin tone. I mean, she has braids in now, so you can see it, but all she has to do is blow her hair straight and she can pass..."

Toni jumped when Rafa spoke. She didn't know he was there.

"Toni. Not Jas. She's the homie." 

The look in his ice blue eyes could burn. 

"And you are a Black woman, so you know how dope they are. Why would anyone NOT worship at your feet?"

Lindy just sipped her drink as Craig entered the chat. "Amen!"

"Maybe it is time for you to get going, honey. I might call you when I get back."

Rafa  led Toni to the door as she protested.

"But I was going to take you to the air..."

"And I APPRECIATE you Black woman, but we'll get there.  See you later."

Then Rafa shut the door in her face. Linden discovered she loved him eternally at that moment. She was rolling.

No one mourned Toni’s departure as arrangements were made for cars to take everyone to the airport.

"You and Daveed can ride with us, Rafa." Ant to the rescue.

"Yeah, Jasmine loves to look at my profile." Jas pinched him so hard he jumped.

“Fuck!”

Ant  was screaming as he, Jasmine and Rafa went out the door. 

"Peace! See you at airport security.  If you get nabbed by TSA, you on your own!”

Daveed lingered. “I don’t know if all of us and our bags will fit in one car. Can I ride with you and Lindy, Craig?”

Craig smirked at Daveed, but didn’t say anything. “Of course...you good with that Lindy?”

You tried to keep it light. 

“Sure.. no biggie,” you cleared your throat and headed to the bathroom to make sure you had everything you needed.

=================

By the time you got to your Uber, the traffic was horrible. It took over an hour to get to the airport. You felt both anxious about missing the flight and keyed up about sitting next to Daveed in the car.

His thigh and side pressing into yours in the dark in the back of an Uber Black brought back memories of that reckless night. 

When he put his arm up on the seat behind you, “For more room,” he said, in that voice and flashing that megawatt smile, you were enveloped more into his scent and warmth. You had to control yourself not to melt into him.

Craig was sitting on his phone, sneaking glances at you and smirking the entire ride. He’d insisted that you be in the middle because you were so tiny.

The whole world was against you, you thought, as you and Daveed both stared straight ahead, both flashing back to that January night.

You were the last three people to run through the airline gate just at they were about to close it. All your friends in first class cheered when you took their seats, and Rafa popped a bottle of champagne.

"Talk about cutting it close," Ant commented as Rafa gave Daveed a high five.

Daveed looked at you. You shook your head at him. Somehow, you were sitting next to him. You just decided to let it be and have some time.

“Just make sure you don’t molest me under this blanket, Ms. Marshall,” Daveed intoned when you were settled and given amenities for the night.

The flight attendant had to tell y’all to keep quiet as the cat calls went up.

Welp, you thought. This will be the vibe the entire weekend. 

You weren’t mad at it. You loved these people. And you were safe. You just smiled, settled down, and looked out of the window to watch the lights of New York fade away.

=================

Read the next chapter

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Tagging:  @braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @commandersmiley @ohsoverykeri-blog  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @id-do-it-for-free-babe

[dc41896]

Our Song

Sequel to “While Mom’s Away...” that basically has the roles reversed (I hope that’s okay) lol. The song used is Good Company from Oliver & Company (if you’ve never seen it, please do it’s adorable!), and I hope you guys like it☺️!

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff💕!

“Hey hun,” he answers finally being able to sit down and have a break after a long day of filming. Hearing rustling and air whizzing by on the other end paired with the taps of small footsteps and little giggles automatically make his smile widen, seemingly erasing his previously tired state.

“Aida, did you take mommy’s phone again?”

“No...,” she mischievously grins looking down at the screen in her hands. “Hi daddy!”

“Hi sweetie, how are you?”

“Good,” she answers in a sing-song manner. Her wild giggles soon return though being lifted to rest on your hip briefly before settling with you on the couch in your lap.

“You’re a little hacker you know that?,” you laugh blowing raspberries on her cheek while managing to slip your phone from her grasp. “Hey honey, how’s your day going?”

“Better now that I get to see my girls.”

“Well maybe if you guys would hurry up and finish the movie, then you could see us all day.”

Seeing your small pout, Aida mocks your expression poking out her bottom lip and giving her best puppy dog eyes making Chris dramatically groan with hand over his heart.

“You’re killing me with the double pout. And to think soon there’s gonna be three of you giving me that look.” Cuddling closer, your daughter’s tiny arms try their best to hug around your five month bump leaving both of you awing at how much she loved her little sibling already.

“Yep, the dreaded triple pout. How will you ever survive Evans?”

“Barely, if at all. Might as well retire now since I’m probably never gonna leave the house,” he replies making you laugh. Excitedly tapping your arm, Aida motions for you to lean down so she can whisper in your ear. Chris almost fails at stifling his chuckles when her hand covers the screen clearly not wanting him to hear their secret conversation.

“You sure you want to do it now? I thought you wanted to wait until he got home?”

“Now please mommy,” she answers sliding off your lap and running towards the piano.

“Aida slow down! I swear she could beat Usain Bolt she’s so fast,” you chuckle taking your time to stand to your feet.

“Or maybe you’re just slowing down,” he jokes with a smirk.

“Ha ha, very funny old man.”

“That’s not what you were calling me the night before I left.”

Playfully glaring at your husband, you sit at the piano bench next to Aida gently kicking her feet back and forth with the biggest smile her little cheeks could handle as you position your phone so he could clearly see the both of you.

“Aida learned something new she’d like to show you.”

“Really?,” he smiles folding his arms on the table in front of him. “I already know I’m gonna love it.”

“You want to start or should I?”

“You,” she shyly smiles now holding onto your upper arm and partially hiding her face. Fingers delicately pressing against the black and white keys, you hear a short gasp fall from Chris’ lips as he immediately recognizes the melody. It was his and Aida’s go to movie the past few months, so you didn’t even need to look up to know he was surely beaming and nearly on edge trying to contain his excitement.

You and me together we'll be

Forever you'll see

We two can be good company

You and me

Yes, together we two

Together, that's you

Forever with me

We'll always be good company

Her soft voice eventually joined in looking from you to Chris as she became more comfortable.

“This last part is all you Aida,” you gently nudge as you continue to play. No longer hiding, she sits up straighter and even starts to sway a bit making her performance even more adorable.

You and me

Yes, together we'll be

You and me

Together we'll be

Forever, you'll see

We'll always be good company

You and me

Just wait and see

“Yay!,” both you and Chris cheer clapping for the giddy four year old.

“Good job sweetie!,” you state hugging her close to your side.

Noticing his reddened cheeks and eyes before he quickly rubbed them, she becomes slightly worried that maybe her surprise wasn’t as enjoyable as she thought it would be.

“Like it daddy?”

“Like it? I loved it sweetheart! One of the best surprises I’ve ever gotten.”

“Then why sad?”

“I’m not sad,” he softly chuckles. “They’re happy tears.”

“Happy tears?”

“Yea sweetheart, they happen when you get really really happy or excited about something. And your singing just made me so incredibly happy.” At his explanation, her bright smile returns as she bounces a few times in her seat making his chuckle deepen.

“Chris, we need you back on set!,” all of you hear following a couple strong knocks on his trailer door.

“Alright, give me a minute!,” he calls over his shoulder. “I wish I could stay with you guys longer, but I gotta go. I’ll call you back as soon as I get done though okay?”

“Then we sing again?!,” Aida asks leaning closer to the camera with hands splayed on top of the piano.

“Yes, we can sing as many times as you want. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you smile.

“Love you bestest!,” your daughter giggles bringing her hand to her mouth to blow quite possibly the most over the top kiss you’ve ever seen.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found in masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[a-singleboat]

Locked In

Word Count: 4.1k

Request: great! you’re a really good writer! could I get a Shayne Topp x Reader where they end up doing a bunch of romantic scenes together in a sketch, like slow dancing and a nice dinner and the cuddles, and you guys have been flirting constantly for months and after the shoot Damien, Court, Ian and everyone lock you two in a room because they’re TIRED of it not going anywhere - @mrtopphaasmyheart​

A/N: this actually turned out a lot longer than i thought it would... sorry not sorry!

It was Saturday night when they emailed out the filming schedules for the upcoming month. You were sitting at home, reading a book and being “insanely boring” as your friends had so eloquently put it. 

But as much as you had wanted to go out with your old college friends, that week of filming had really taken a toll on you and your body. Now, as a YouTube personality, you weren’t required to do your own stunts due to the fact that stuffed dolls could easily take your place for comedic effect. However, being a former stuntwoman for a few months during college, you loved the adrenaline crashing through a window or two gave you. 

As Smosh’s stunt coordinator, that meant you weren’t on screen as often as your coworkers. Which is why the upcoming month’s filming schedule shocked you. Aside from a Try Not to Laugh and a few Smosh Gaming videos, you were also scheduled in an Every Blank Ever. Namely, the Every Valentine's Day Ever video. 

Considering Valentine’s Day was a little less than a month out, it wasn’t weird that they wanted to get this video recorded and on its way to editing. What was weird was the fact that most of your filming blocks aligned with Shayne Topp’s. 

It wasn’t a secret that you were the group flirt. Next to Courtney, you were both the most notorious for flirting with your coworkers on screen and, in your case, off. 

But with Shayne… It started five months ago. Five months ago, your harmless flirting turned into something a little more than for-good-fun. 

Five months ago, the flirty little winks you sent in his direction meant more than something friendly and the words exchanged turned into something more than just words. But you were sure that was all you. 

There was no way Shayne felt the same for you. After all, he was an extremely friendly guy and he acted that way to everyone. That was your best defense. That he was just really nice. 

You shook your head as if the motion would shake the thoughts from your mind. You closed your book and laptop, shoving both items off to the side. You reached over and clicked your bedside lamp off, settling in for the night. 

You’d figure it out in the morning, you decided, closing your eyes and letting sleep take you off to another world.

The next morning, you met up with Courtney and Olivia for your weekly Sunday brunches. You had settled on a new place, rather than your regular brunch spot. The only difference was this place offered outdoor seating, which was nice despite the fact that it was still January and it was sixty degrees Fahrenheit. 

You guessed you could blame the warmer-than-average weather on global warming. 

“What’d you do yesterday, Olivia?” you asked as Courtney wrapped up her recount on the movie night she had with one of her many siblings. They had gone out to watch The Turning, much to her sister’s amusement and to Courtney’s torture. 

“I just hung out with Sam,” Olivia revealed, shrugging. “Wrote in my filming schedule in my planner.”

You took a sip of your mimosa, nodding along. “Yeah, I had a mellow weekend too.” 

Courtney kicked your foot under the table. “But did you see who you were paired with for, like, eighty percent of the scenes, Y/n?”

You shrugged, setting your drink down. “Shayne? Yeah, I saw it.”

Courtney poked you this time. “For the Valentine’s scenes. You know, the romantic stuff!”

She wiggled her eyebrows as you fought to keep the smile off your face. “We won’t even be shooting those until Wednesday.”

You and Shayne had about three or four romantic scenes in the Every Blank Ever, marked ‘Breakfast in Bed,’ ‘Dinner,’ ‘Proposal’ (which was a continuation of ‘Dinner’), and one unspecified scene. You figured they’d tell you what the unspecified scene was when it came time to film it. 

“So that means you have until Wednesday to fantasize all about it,” Olivia said, wiggling her fingers like she was a wizard spreading magic. 

You laughed slightly, shaking your head. You held up a hand and asked your waiter for your check. You thanked them when they brought over the little black book, shooing off your two friends as they tried to poke fun of you. 

As the baby of the group, you figured a little teasing was warranted. It came with the territory. 

But by the time Wednesday rolled around, you figured your status of the baby of the group wouldn’t help you much. 

Sarah Whittle, one of your bosses, stood near you as you did up your own makeup. She was waiting patiently for the curler to heat up so she could do up your hair, making you feel much like she was your mom helping you get ready for Prom night. 

“You ready for today's scenes, Y/l?” she asked in a teasing manner. 

You rolled your eyes and took a break from applying your mascara to stick your tongue out at the older woman like the child you were. 

“It’s the breakfast in bed scene first,” you complained as you nearly poked your eye out with the wand. “Why do I need to have my hair curled if I just woke up?”

Sarah picked up the curler after sliding on the black cloth glove that was designed so that she couldn’t burn herself too badly with the heated stick of metal. 

“Well, you’re going to be wearing a hair covering for this scene so your curls can set for the dinner scene,” Sarah explained before winking. “Plus, it’d be less work for me later.”

Since Sarah had already sectioned off your hair, it made it easier for her to curl the pieces and then pin them up with bobby pins to keep them secure. Once she finished, she reached over and grabbed a patterned shower cap and slid it on over the little bundles of curled hair. 

She explained that the residue heat would essentially act like one of those giant hair dryers that you would sit under at a hair salon, but with less health risks. 

After you were finished with hair and makeup, you were ushered off to costume where you were given a nightgown and a robe.

You thanked whatever deity was up there that you had been provided a robe before making your way to set, passing a dressed up Courtney, who waved enthusiastically at you. You resisted the urge to jokingly throw up the middle finger at your friend, instead choosing to wave back and give a tight smile that showed off your discomfort. 

Thankfully, Ian was the scene’s director, which immediately put you at ease. It wasn’t that you had anything against the others. In fact, you loved being able to work with Ryan. It was just the fact that since coining Ian as your Smosh dad, you found it easier to perform better in scenes like these if someone you had already been emotionally vulnerable with was the one behind the steering wheel.

“Okay,” Ian said, clapping his hands together. “Y/n, you’re going to wake up and maybe yawn a little, and then Shayne is going to come in with a tray of food. I want you to take a bite, and chew through it while pretending you like it. You got that?”

You shucked your robe, handing it off to one of the assistants that were on hand. You gave him a thumbs up before settling into the bed, moving down so it looked like you were sleeping. 

You waited, counted three breaths, before you heard Ian call, “Action.”

You waited two more breaths before ‘waking up,’ yawning and groggily rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, moving yourself so that your back was flush to the headboard. 

“Good morning, Sweetie,” Shayne said, pretending to have come through a door. He made his way over to the bed and set the tray over your lap. You smiled at him, imagining what domestic life with Shayne would actually be like.

“Good morning,” you replied, remembering that this was a scripted moment. “What’d you make for me?”

Shayne settled into the bed next to you, pointing at each item as he listed them off. “I made the pancakes I made you on our first morning together, as well as the scrambled eggs that I know you love so much, and I got you some orange juice in a mug with a heart on it that I found from our local flea market.”

You acted like it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. Putting on a face that would read to the audience that you two were madly in love. “Oh, honey. I love it, thank you!”

You kissed his cheek, thinking nothing of it as you moved onto the next part of Ian’s directions to you. You put a spoonful of eggs into your mouth, making a face at the ‘taste.’

“Do you like it?” Shayne asked, still in character. 

You made a face that was halfway between joy and disgust, acting like it was the worst thing you’ve ever eaten. “It’s great, Steve.”

Ian called for a cut and you reached out beside you as the assistant from earlier rushed to hand you a bucket. You spat out the food, scraping your teeth along your tongue to get the residue egg out of your mouth. 

She handed your your robe next, to which you replied, “Thank you, Julia,” before pulling the article of clothing on. 

Shayne threw an arm around your shoulders as you got out of bed, pulling you back and wrapping his arms around you. You laughed, feeling your cheeks burn with half embarrassment and half oh-my-God-what-is-he-doing. 

“They got us up this early, they can give us a few minutes to nap,” he declared, settling his head atop yours the best he could in the awkward position he had put you in. It was nothing new, Shayne being touchy with you, but this time was different. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, but you knew something had changed. 

Maybe it was the fact that you had just filmed a scene in which you both were a couple. The fake engagement ring that sat on your finger reminded you of that. The fact that this was fake. 

“Come on,” Ian scolded, a laugh also written across his face. “The sooner you both get through the next three scenes, the sooner you can go home.” 

You wriggled out of Shayne’s grasp, laughing as he tried to tickle your sides. It wasn’t the fact that you were insanely ticklish, no. It was the fact that his hands on you felt so undeniably right, that your brain had thought of no other reaction but to laugh. 

“Alright,” you surrendered, “I’ll go. I’ll see you at dinner, Mr. Topp.” 

He kneeled on the bed, raising up from his sitting position. He bent at the waist jokingly, a goofy grin on his face. 

“Until then, Ms. Y/l.” 

You gave him a two-finger salute in farewell before disappearing from set, making your way back to hair and makeup. There, Sarah awaited you, anxious to take out the pins and reveal her ‘masterpiece.’

Once your hair was revealed, which did look insanely good, you set to work on applying a modest amount of makeup, knowing that the amount of lights on the set would even out your complexion. 

From years in show business, you’d learned that a healthy medium between your normal everyday makeup and stage makeup was the way to go when filming in a closed set. As far as you knew, you wouldn’t be filming outside or in any dark or enclosed spaces. 

When you were carted off to costume, you were glad to trade out your nightgown and robe with a red dress that really did flatter your figure in the best ways. You gave Lindsay a spin when she asked you to before being carted off to set for the second time that day. 

Luckily, you’d be in the same outfit for the next three scenes you had to film that day, which meant no more back and forth between departments. 

You thanked whatever deity was up there because ten minutes in and the heels Lindsay had put you in were already cutting off circulation to your toes. 

“Okay,” Ian said, and clapped again. It was a habit of his that didn’t look like it was going anywhere soon. “For this scene, we’re going to film the dinner and proposal all in one and splice it in editing and whatever. I’ll stop you if I want to give a little more direction, but you know what you’re doing and so does Shayne.”

You smiled at Ian’s attempt at easing up your nerves. No matter how fake, getting proposed to was always a nerve-wracking experience. 

Shayne walked up to set next, dressed up and looking a little extra fancy. 

You bumped his hip as they set up the scene, threading your arms through his. “You clean up nice.”

He smirked. “I could say the same for you, Y/n.”

You felt the heat rise into your cheeks, hating that Shayne could get any kind of reaction from you. 

You heard Ian call action and immediately started walking. The two of you gossiped about the “hot new Italian restaurant” your boss recommended before arriving at the entrance. 

“Hello,” Damien greeted them, an Italian accent gracing his lips. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

Shayne stepped forward a little. “Yes, Copper. That’s C-O-P-P-E-R.”

“Copper,” Damien repeated, though his accent botched the pronunciation a little for comedic effect. “Ah, yes. C-O-P-P-E-R. Right this way.”

Damien ‘led’ you to your table, though in all reality, the cameras cut as the set changed slightly, the restaurant tables coming in and some of your coworkers coming in to fill the seats around you. 

Damien asked for your order in proper waiter fashion before dashing off to ‘fetch your drinks.’

You leaned in, tucking some hair behind your ear as to not obscure your face from the cameras. “Babe, this place is really fancy. Are you sure you can afford this?”

Shayne scoffed and brushed you off. “Of course, I can afford this!”

He made a joke loudly, and you laughed nervously, looking around and apologizing to the other patrons of the bar as scripted. 

“Babe,” you hissed. “Quiet down, people are staring!”

He scoffed again, doing his little bit before returning to the script. 

“Let them stare!” he announced, climbing onto the table. Your eyes widened as you held onto the table, even though you fully well knew that it was bolted down to the set. 

“Ramona, I am in love with you and have been since I first swiped right,” he declared, putting his hand to his heart. He jumped off the table and leaned over to another table, taking the engagement ring right off an extra’s finger. 

You watched as she acted offended, storming off with her fiance. 

You returned your attention to Shayne, who was down on one knee in front of you. “Ramona, will you marry me?” 

You looked around, acting shocked and repulsed by what had just taken place. You gave it a few moments, waiting for the comedic timing to line up, before bursting out into fake tears and saying yes. 

The crowd around you burst into cheers, you could hear your coworkers clapping and calling out congratulations as Shayne held you in his arms. 

Ian called cut but Shayne didn’t let you go, holding you around the waist with one arm instead of two. 

You saw Ian and Courtney exchanged glances with Damien, but thought nothing of it, enjoying the feeling of Shayne’s arms around you. You looked up at him, staring into his bright baby blues. 

“What do you think the next scene is?” you asked him, leaning into his side. His arm tightened around you.

“I don’t know but I hope it's something to do with dessert,” you said excitedly. 

Shayne cocked an eyebrow at you, causing you to realize the secondary meaning to your words. You slapped his pec, unsurprisingly meeting the hard muscle there, before slapping yourself in the face for not realizing it sooner.

“That’s not what I meant,” you insisted, separating yourself from him. You crossed your arms over your chest as he laughed at what you had said. You ended up laughing a little as well, walking away from the set and kicking off the heels. 

While they were absolutely beautiful, they also made your feet hurt like hell. The assistant, Julia, offered you your casual shoes and you took them, making a mental note to get the woman a gift basket or something sometime in the future. 

Ian came up to you as you were sliding on your Crocs, clicking the toes together happily as your feet were enveloped in the surprisingly comfy croslite. 

“You ready for this next scene?” Ian asked, taking a sip out of his mug. It was nearing lunchtime now, meaning they had less than an hour to film this next bit. 

“Does that mean you’re going to finally let me know what the scene is?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled and patted your back. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, clapping your shoulder. “It’s all improv but you’re both extremely great at that!”

You winced at his tone of voice, not believing him at all yet you allowed him to lead you and Shayne into one of the prop closets, already decked out with studio lights and everything.

The presence of the lights put your mind at ease and considering you were wearing a red dress paired with your bright yellow crocs, you crossed your fingers in hopes that they weren’t about to record anything past waist level. 

Ian pushed Shayne into the closet slightly, causing the man to tumble into you. He caught you around the waist while reflexively grabbing hold of a shelf fixed to one of the walls. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks once more, glad that his attention was more focused on making sure the two of you weren’t about to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

Once he got the two of you back on your own two feet, you wheeled around, ready to confront Ian but was met with a closed prop door. 

You approached the door knob and twisted it, to find that it was locked. You shook it in hopes that this was one of the closets that would just slide open to no avail. You and Shayne were stuck in the closet with one of the hottest stage lights the company owned. 

“We’ll be back in thirty minutes,” you heard Ian call out, the sounds of Courtney and Damien snickering coming from beyond the door. 

“You’re dead, Hecox!” you shouted before resigning. “They’re not gonna let us out in thirty, minutes, are they?”

Shayne chuckled, trying to make the best of the situation. He had already made himself comfy on one of the wooden chests. 

Then, the stage light shut off and that’s when the panic set in. 

“Oh, my God,” you freaked, eyes going wide. The only light was now the half-dead emergency bulb in the ceiling of the prop closet, leaving the both of you in what was essentially the dark. You turned around and started to pound on the door, calling for your boss, Courtney, anybody. At one point, you found yourself calling for the assistant that had followed you around all day. 

“We’re going to die in here,” you lamented, leaning up against a wall. 

Shayne hopped off the chest and came over to you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his chest. 

“We’ll be fine,” he comforted. “It was probably just a blackout. We’ve been getting them around the studios pretty often recently. They’ll probably come back for us in a few minutes when they realize that the building’s powerless.

You nodded, calming yourself down in his arms. He was right. The crew wouldn’t leave you in here during a blackout… would they?

You started to think about how much of a safety and fire hazard leaving the two of you in here would be and started to panic again. 

“Shayne,” you whimpered. “What if they can’t get back to us? If the building is on lock down then they wouldn’t be able to use their key cards to get us out and I don’t even think Ian remembers where he put the backup keys and--”

You were cut off by a pair of lips covering yours. You let out a muffled noise of surprise, before closing your eyes and leaning into the kiss. Your hands flew to his hair as he pulled you even closer, if humanly possible. 

Now, when someone tells you that the fireworks aren’t real, they probably weren’t doing it right because here, with Shayne, it was like the Fourth of July. You felt the lust, the passion, the absolute adoration for the man that held you in his arms well up inside you until you had to pull away for air. 

You pulled back, struggling to regain control over your breathing. You looked up into his brilliant baby blues and searched for a reason behind what he had just done. 

“Uh,” he licked his lips, “you were panicking and I had to do something so that you wouldn’t pass out or--”

You cut him off that time, standing up on your toes to meet him with another kiss, just as passionate as the last. 

“What was that for?” he asked, when you finally pulled back. 

You bit your lip. “I’ve liked you for a long time,” you finally admitted. “And it sucks that it took our coworkers locking us in a room together that I finally grew up and did something about it.”

Shayne glanced at the still-closed doors. “Yeah, those assholes. Forcing me to get kissed twice by the woman that I am deeply infatuated with.”

He kissed you again, laughing as your lips met. You pulled back and kissed his cheek and then down his jaw, settling one last kiss over his lips for good measure. 

“You know, we should totally fuck with them,” you proposed, a hint of playfulness behind your eyes. “And then go home and figure this out on our own terms.”

Shayne’s eyes met yours with the same intentions behind his eyes as yours. “Are you thinking that I’m thinking?”

You nodded before kissing him again, and again, and again…

It was forty-five minutes later until your coworkers came to your rescue. 

Putting your plan into action, you crossed your arms and turned your head away from him. You were sure there were still black tear marks down your face from when you had started crying earlier, after realizing the power in the building had gone out. 

Ian was the first to apologize upon seeing your disheveled state. Thankfully, he had taken the state of your hair and makeup as a sign you were actually distraught. He apologized, along with the others, for locking you in the prop closet in the first place. 

You told them it was okay and that you just wanted to go home after the ordeal you had been through. 

Surprisingly, you had managed to escape the building an hour later. You met Shayne by your car, giggling as he grabbed you around the waist. He peppered your face with kisses before setting you down, allowing you to unlock your car. 

He entered from the other side as you thanked whatever deity was up there for making today one of the days he had decided to carpool with Damien. His excuse was that he was just going to Uber back to his place, seeing as it wasn’t that far from the studio.

Although that was a load of bull, the two of you were heading back to your apartment to work things out. 

“Those idiots,” Shayne joked as you pulled out of the lot. “They were none the wiser.”

You laughed as you drove away from the building. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out by tomorrow. After all, I’m your ride in tomorrow.”

Shayne shrugged, reaching over the console to grab your hand. “I’m fine with that. As long as I get you all to myself for tonight.” 

“I’m fine with that,” you said, a grin on your face. You would spend an eternity with him if it meant you got moments like these in the future. And you were fine with that.

[yanderes-stuff]

pspsps....firebrand yandera

Mmmm yes lonely fire God goes mental just 

to have you in his arms again I love it

Words:1,841

TW: Cussing, murder, kidnapping and also yandere stuff and LOTS of grammar errors

P.S this is probably the last fanfic I'll do that includes Noah Maxwell

Also, I got a head cannon that Firebrand can have inky tentacles out his back at will 

"Hey, hothead wanna hear something fucking infuriating," HABIT questioned the man towering in front of him which already seemed infuriated from the man's presence.

"Piss off and go bother someone else for the love of God." the shadow-man spat back glaring daggers at the shorter man, which just made HABIT cackle in amusement to him

"It's about your weird-ass obsession with your long-lost best friend," HABIT informed him in a ridiculing tone to capture his attention which was a success by the way Firebrand perked up at this.

A long time ago before Noah became a God he recalled kidnapping you in a snowy winter from your house before that Noah was planning to ask you to come over for dinner Which you gladly accepted following that he came over and you made pleasant conversation with him

discussing childhood memories on the sofa about how you, him, and Milo being the best of buddies but when you brought up how you were sad for drifting away from Milo he seemed miserable when you asked him what's wrong he admitted that Milo overdosed

To say you were horrified was an understatement you apologized for bringing up such a traumatic event to Noah which he excused and changed the subject

But your conversation was interrupted by the beeping of the oven signaling the dinner was ready and so you got up and started preparing the dinner which gave Noah the perfect time slot to slip a drug into the beverage you set on the table 

You clutched your glass and told him dinner was ready so you both seated yourselves and continued your conversation whilst eating some steak, and potatoes but suddenly you were more and more drowsy as the conversation progressed

 With your head hanging low in exhaustion until finally with a small thud your upper body hit the dining surface giving a sign to Noah that it's time to flee the area and go home

He cheerfully settled you in his bed in the house surrounded by the snowy woods he selected winter to abduct you since you wouldn't bother escaping the logic being

 You would surely freeze to death if you even attempted, giving you enough time to start your Stockholm syndrome for him, and also a chance to enjoy the winter holiday with each other.

But alas 3 weeks into late January long since the snow settled you managed to find a paperclip that was disguised burrowed in the carpet floor and successfully utilized it to pick the lock Noah put on your window and my God once you were running you never stopped out of fear until you knew your safe

Much to Noah's dismay, but despite that he swore to one day find you, and this time he'll be sure you won't have a chance to leave but once he hunted out for you, the collective found him once again making him their victim to torment...which leads him to now 

"This better be good." Firebrand was trying to hide his interest in what HABIT was about to say hoping you weren't dead by his hands but the shorter man just gave him a sly smirk and composed himself 

"Wellllllll...I remember how you said you knew where she used to live." HABIT said with great confidence

"I threatened the landlord to kill him and his entire family if he didn't give me her moving notice and if he told [Name.] So he gave me the new address."  He sounded so pleased with himself the fucker might've just proven to be useful 

"But that's not all, once I found her neighborhood I googled it and found the neighborhood's social media, in which pictures of her were posted…but not just her." He emphasized the word not. while explaining his efforts to him still with that sick smile

"She had a wedding ring in her posts and mentions some guy's name...what was it again." He was teasing him at this point stroking his chin while doing it

"Spit his name the fuck out." Firebrand demanded already weaving a plan in his mind on what he was going to do when he kidnapped you.

"It's Connor I'll cut you a deal, you let me kill him with free creative means while you kidnap [Name.] Deal?" Not even taking a moment to consider the man already made up his mind

"It's a deal." Firebrand approved now his objective has been set and he was trying to hold back his excitement to see you again.

The day following after that 

"Hey, Connor I'm out to do errands sweetheart I'll be back later tonight." You proclaimed to Connor who was relaxing on the couch watching T.V 

"Okay got it," Connor replied to focused on the T.V to pay attention to your words little did he know of the two men that broke in and are lurking in the living room closet 

As soon as they were sure you drove off they both stepped out of the space and HABIT set foot in Connors direction with purple duct tape in hand while Firebrand waited patiently for him  

As soon as HABIT was behind him he snaked his hand over Connors's hands pinning him while grabbed his tape with the other hand as Connor wiggled to get free HABIT was wrapping both his arms in tape

Firebrand finally stepped out while walking towards the scene in front of him flashing a malicious grin on his face he needed to know why his life would be coming to a bitter painful end 

"Look asshole this is for the best, I'm only doing this because she's mine and mine alone." Completely ignoring Connors's fearful look "All I want is her. All I ever wanted was her and I can't lose her to your dumbass. So here we are." Firebrand continues a cold look plastered on his face 

"I told him he could kill you any way he wants while I take [Name.] Back home where she belongs." Firebrand was visibly eager despite his cold look he just couldn't wait to see you

HABIT smirked at Firebrands words and carried the screaming restrained man to the basement to proceed with his work while Firebrand watched him descend the basement stairs 

When he was out of his sight he started to prepare his confrontation with you, readying a tea kettle on the stove and heating it till it made that easily recognized whistle

 While the echo of Connors screams was slowly drowned out by both the kettle and his painfully slow demise coming to an end as HABIT was most likely cleaning up the body now as Firebrand waited in the corner of the kitchen next to the door frame

As you finally walked in carrying the days work on your shoulders the house was oddly silent besides the whistle of a kettle Connor must've made tea for you and him while you were gone 

You shouted his name in hopes of some kind of response back only to be met with the same hissing...maybe he didn't hear you but when you got closer to the kitchen the sizzle came to a sudden halt

You waltzed into the kitchen only to be tackled by a bizarre-looking individual who had pinned your arms down on the floor and was straddled on top of your body you immediately started struggling to break free but upon your closer inspection of the man

He seemed to be completely jet black with inky tendrils coming out of his back to add to that his expression with pinpoint eyes and a demented smirk that seems to be getting wider by the second and a gold chain adorning his neck, he seemed oddly familiar 

"Who are you? What are you? stay away from me!" You shouted squirming in his grip you were trying to kick him off but he was easily overpowering you without breaking a sweat despite your best efforts 

"You really don't fucking remember me?" He seemed pained by your words his smile now turning into a light frown while his eyes bore into yours 

Regardless of your trembling, you examined his figure, and then you instantly recognized him "N-Noah?"

His face lit up at the sound of his name being said. so you do remember him! "Of course you remember! how could I have ever doubted you." He muttered enthusiastically "But the name's Firebrand now." He added

"Please...I don't want anything to do with you, not after the things you did to me." You told him trying not to waver your voice 

His face immediately transformed from enthusiasm to an upset expression as the words processed in his mind as the room became dreadful and uneasy. It was already getting hard for you to breathe especially when you were trying not to have a mental breakdown in front of him then he begins to chuckle which grabs your attention 

"Your pleads are so cute like anything could get you out of this." He confesses casually as he continued "I didn't think you would say that so quickly." The brunet was starting to laugh maniacally now which disturbed you further 

"You're probably still shocked and scared but luckily for you, I have just the thing for that." He whispered the last part to himself while smiling whilst you on the other hand had your heart was beating faster than ever before 

He arranged both your arms together over your head and wrapped his humid sticky tendril around your wrist while he pulled a syringe with a unique liquid from his pocket and put a hand over your mouth to smother your commotions

He searched for the best place to insert it feeling around your neck with his warm rough fingers and in a matter of seconds you felt the prick of your skin and your world succumbed to darkness 

You woke up in an unfamiliar room tied up with duct tape your mind was foggy and you couldn't think straight you tried to move but to no avail just then you saw a figure move in the corner of your eye which only made your movements more frantic 

The figure shifted to be closer to the bed you were in until he was at the foot of the bed you felt a smooth tentacle wrap around your neck 

"Hey, sweetheart did you miss me cause I really missed you." He couldn't believe you were all his again but my God was glad about it but one thing is for certain

This time he was going to be sure you would accept his demented affection