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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 4 years ago

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Hi, I have an idea for Chishiya if it's okay! He have something going on with Kuina's friend, and after she didn't came back from a game everyone thought that she died, but she actually just left (she didn't want to become too attached to Chishiya maybe?) and 1 month later the militants found her and Chishiya is rather cold toward her because she left him without saying anything. Happy ending if possible, please

Thanks for requesting, here you go. Enjoy! 🥰

Home | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Niragi)

Summary: You run away from the beach, but soon were found by the militants again. Chishiya, your closest companion, is mad when you return for not saying anything.

Warning: mention of sexual harassment, swearing, grieving, heavy angst

Word Count: 4.8k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if the ending is a bit cliché, but I really enjoyed writing this one!

“I’m so sick of this shit Kuina. She’s gone. What the hell do we do now?”

Chishiya and Kuina sat on the top roof of The Beach. Their legs were dangling over the edge, above the groups of people who sang their hearts out over the loud music. They couldn’t be down there themselves, not that night.

“It’s so unfair,” Chishiya grumbled, rubbing his stained eyes with his hands. “I hate how everyone just moves on like nothing happened.”

Kuina sniffled, trying to control her runny nose as she listened to Chishiya’s pained words. “Look Chish, it was going to happen to one of us three at some point, it just happened to be Y/N.” Kuina tried to keep her voice stable, but the occasional voice crack gave away her sadness.

“Yes I know, but it still hurts so fucking bad.”

You hadn’t returned from your game. You hadn’t returned back to Chishiya and Kuina. You hadn’t returned home.

*******

“Oi Y/N! Slow the hell down!”

You heard Kuina yell out to you from down the hall. You laughed at her desperate attempt to catch up while Chishiya walked at his own pace watching you guys.

“Why are we suddenly having a race?! We have all day to get down to the pool!” Kuina called out. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face her. “I want to get down there before the sun comes out and everyone wakes up! Don’t you want to have it just for us three for a while?”

“I suppose so,” Kuina breathed out heavily.

Chishiya’s lips pulled up into a smile as he watched you too bicker. “Oi you two. Be quiet. People in these halls are still sleeping,” he said.

Kuina turned to Chishiya and pulled a mocking bored face towards him. “Well you’re fun this morning,” she muttered in a sarcastic tone.

All three of you made your way to the pool on the bottom floor of The Beach, tripping and shoving each other playfully while giggling. You hardly ever did this together, because Chishiya always slept until noon, so you were excited about having the pool to yourselves before the sun came up.

When you reached outside, your chatters and the sound of your bare feet on the pavement broke the silence of the night. You hoped that Hatter kept the windows closed to his suite because you knew if you woke him up he would come down and beat your asses for being awake so early.

You looked over towards the pool that was still lit up with underwater neon blue lights from the night before. You’d think that they would shut all the lights off at least to save a bit of electricity, but apparently not.

Kuina had thrown her towel down carelessly on a nearby deck chair and was now chasing after Chishiya, who powered his short legs to try and escape her.

“Chishiya you’re going in the pool! You can’t chicken out forever!” she yelled as she caught up to him and wrapped her strong arms around his waist.

You could tell the years of martial arts training paid off for Kuina as she lifted Chishiya into her arms like he weighed nothing. “Bitch, put me down! I don’t want to go in the pool! Why is that such a crime!?”

You doubled over in laughter as Kuina held the cat-like blonde in her arms, him squirming more violently as she got to the side of the pool.

“Goodbye!” she yelled and dropped him into the pool. His screaming cut off as he was submerged into the water. You walked over and placed your stuff down, listening to Kuina and Chishiya bickering in the background.

It was a shame that you were planning on walking out on these guys. But in a world like this, the bad moments really outweighed the good ones.

“Alright you’re next!” you heard behind you, making you snap out of your short daze.

“Wait, no!” you bellowed as Kuina repeated the same thing she did with Chishiya. This time, it was his turn to laugh at you.

“Jesus christ woman. The fuck got you so lively this morning?” you laughed at Kuina, who gracefully dived into the pool to tease you two.

You felt Chishiya tuck his chin on your shoulder gently, taking you by surprise. “I guess we got to act as happy as we can now. Our five day visa ends tonight.” Chishiya mumbled to you two.

The air around the three of you suddenly became stiff at the mention of the games. You lifted your hand and placed it on Chishiya’s damp hair. “It’s alright, it was a fun and relaxing five days while it lasted,” you said cheerfully.

“Don’t say that like as if you’re going to die,” Chishiya scolded you. “You won’t die, none of us three will.” He was trying to reassure himself that he would come back from his game with you all happy and healthy waiting in the lobby for him. He hoped for that exact reality every time he had to leave you to restore his visa. He panicked even when you were ten minutes later than usual. It was a constant battle with anxiety when it came to caring for you in a world like this.

But unfortunately, while Chishiya was willing to fight against the growing anxiety that came with loving you, you didn’t want anything to do with it.

You and Chishiya have been as tight as two peas in a pod since Kuina introduced you. Kuina and you happened to meet at a diamonds game that was further in the centre of the city which was where you appeared in the game. She was nice enough to take you back to The Beach, because she thought that your intelligence and gentle personality would be useful.

But the plan of using you for Kuina and Chishiya’s own personal gain went out the window when both of them built a strong connection with you. They tried so hard to stop it, but in the end, they decided to make you an addition to their little manipulative games with the others. A mysterious duo became a peculiar trio.

That’s when Chishiya began to notice other things he felt.

He began feeling an irrational attachment to you, always wanting to be around you and always wanting to make sure that you were safe. You began noticing his additional little quirks as well, as soon you both fell for each other, without the other knowing of course.

Kuina obviously knew, as she was incredibly observant. She always kept her mouth shut though, wanting to see the drama play out in front of her. It was entertaining at times.

“You two are cute,” she gushed at you and Chishiya, holding a cheeky smile on her face.

Chishiya tucked his face into your neck to hide his blush, but it only made your heart skip a beat. “Shut up,” he mumbled into your skin.

You sighed heavily as he kept his place there, snaking his arms around your waist. This was honestly normal. The closer you’ve gotten with Chishiya, the less shy he’s been to convey physical affection. You loved and hated it at the same time, because you knew the more he made your heart race, the harder it would be to leave him.

At times you thought you’d rather deal with his cold and untrustworthy personality, like how he was when he first met you. It was easier to dislike him then, but now that his real personality has shown through, you realized how good of a person he actually seemed to be.

Chishiya never became close to someone, because he knew it would be hard to pull away when he needed to use them for his own survival. So he’s just always chosen to keep everyone at a distance.

You on the other hand, you hadn’t fallen down the deep whole of caring fully for someone in this world, but you knew you were about to stumble off the edge.

While Kuina and Chishiya waited to renew their visas, you waited to run away from the stress of waiting for your friend’s potential deaths.

******

You, Kuina and Chishiya trudged down the steps that led to the lobby. Hatter had called everyone to meet there a few minutes ago to prepare for the games. Hearing the familiar bell ring throughout the so-called paradise made your heart weaken. It was calling you to your end, every single time.

The trio of you took your usual place towards the back of the lobby, leaning against the cement walls and looking over everyone’s heads. How weird it felt, that by the time you gathered here next, the number of people would reduce by a couple dozen. It made your stomach sink in remorse. You truly were nothing more than soldiers fighting a war that wasn’t your own.

You looked down at your own feet, beginning to feel guilty about your plan of running away. The people you would abandon, the friends who would miss you. And even they can’t come find you, but you knew it was for the best. For both you and them.

You felt something tickle your hand. You glanced your eyes down to see that it was Chishiya, trying to sneak his hand into yours as Hatter began his booming speech across the crowd. You looked up to the blonde’s face, but he was focused on Hatter. You smiled sadly and accepted his hand into yours, earning a soft squeeze from him.

Kuina placed her head on your shoulder, leaning closer towards you. It was as if they knew, and they were trying to get you to change your mind. You felt tears building up in your eyes, but quickly wiped them away with your hoodie sleeve before anyone noticed.

Damn. You were never going to forget them.

******

Chishiya sat in the leather lounge in the lobby. He had just arrived back from his spades game. Wasn’t too difficult, for him at least.

Only now he was stressing inside, leg bouncing up and down on the carpet quickly. He knew you wouldn’t return for a good while, but yet he always was worried about you. No matter the situation.

Niragi didn’t help the situation. He strolled over earlier with a few of his militant mates and roughed Chishiya up for a bit. He honestly wasn’t in the mood for their antics, so he didn’t fight back much. They eventually got bored and walked away.

There hardly was anyone in the lobby, it was strangely quiet.

Chishiya looked towards the entrance to the lobby where a small group of people just walked in from. He recognized them as the group Kuina was placed with, so he stood up from his seat and quickly made his way over.

He managed to spot Kuina walking by herself at the back of the group. Chishiya let out a relieved sigh and strolled up to her. “Thank god you’re okay,” he said, giving her a short hug. “You too,” she replied.

They walked back over to where Chishiya was sitting beforehand and sat down. “Do you know who Y/N went with?” Kuina asked.

“No idea, I had to leave with my group before hers,” he answered.

They both sat in silence for a while, hearts squeezing in on themselves from tension.

As group after group piled into the lobby and moved to go to the back pool to celebrate their wins. While their hearts and minds were overflowing in joy of surviving, Chishiya’s and Kuina’s slowly became heavier and heavier with grief.

One of the last groups finally came back, being a few hours later than everyone else. Chishiya searched the small crowd for your familiar face, but didn’t see it.

“Kuina,” he started with a tense voice. “Don’t say it,” she immediately cut him off. “Don’t say anything Chish. She’s fine, I know it.”

That became harder and harder to believe the later into the night it got. Soon enough, no one was left in the halls and the lobby, either gone to bed or stayed out in the pool area.

Chishiya didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t feel anything. His body was tired from the constant tensing, the constant anxiety.

He stood up abruptly and looked towards Kuina, who had her head in her hands. He gave her a sad smile, and reached his hand out to help her up. “Come on, let’s go to the roof like old times,” he smiled, fighting the tears building up in his eyes.

*********

When they reached the top of the building after climbing many annoying flights of steps, Chishiya tilted his head back to feel the wind blow around his head. He opened his eyes and saw the galaxy of stars above him. ‘So weird,’ he thought to himself. ‘In a horrible place like this, such beautiful things can still exist.’

Kuina and Chishiya sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the edge. Complete silence took over them. Neither of them knew what to say.

Kuina broke her gaze off the staggering height of the drop below them and glanced at Chishiya. He was staring straight ahead of him, hoodie covering his face so she couldn’t see what he was looking at.

“Chish, are you okay?” Kuina asked quietly, leaning forward to try and see his face. It felt strange to her, having Chishiya be completely silent for a change. Usually he would be making a smartass comment or a teasing joke towards her or Y/N. It was like the happiness in him had drained out.

He didn’t answer for a short moment, but then he turned his head to look at Kuina in the eyes. Kuina was taken back.

Chishiya had pools of tears cascading down his pale face, mixing with the sweat that he still endured from the game. He let out no sobs and no cries. Just dry, empty tears running down his cheeks like doves flying down the edge of a cliff.

“No, I’m not okay,” he muttered to her. “This fucking sucks.”

*******

It had been a few weeks since your death, not that there was a huge difference at The Beach from your disappearance. Everyone carried on like normal, everyone except Kuina and Chishiya.

They became secluded, more than usual. Kuina spent most of her time in the hotel’s gym, trying to distract herself from everything that happened. She wanted to get stronger so she could win games, she knew that’s what you would have wanted.

Chishiya however, he wasn’t taking your death well at all. Chishiya lost his fire, his headstrong attitude and snappy remarks. He kind of disappeared himself, but only his body stayed.

He felt stupid at times. What would he have expected? Of course you died, knowing his luck. He began irrationally thinking, believing that the world took you away because he didn’t deserve someone as warm-hearted as you. He felt cheated almost. It was like the universe had you dangling on a string in front of him, and when he finally had the courage to reach towards you, it yanked you away out of his view.

When he was having particular hard days, he would lie on his bed in his room for hours, not bothering to get up for food or the bathroom. He felt numb inside, he honestly thought nothing would be able to hurt him anymore, because he’s endured the worst of his emotions.

The mirror in his room was smashed, due to his own doing. He broke it a few days after the incident, screaming into the stuffy air of his room and throwing one of his makeshift knives at it. He watched in pain as it crackled and crumbled under the impact, seeing his own reflection fall into a million pieces, much like how he was feeling at that moment.

He had never experienced this kind of hurt before. He always thought other people were being dramatic when they broke down crying after hearing their significant other or friend didn’t make it back to The Beach. He thought that it should’ve been expected, that they shouldn’t be surprised that it happened. But he guessed you never know what another person is feeling unless you experience it yourself.

But god, does he wish he didn’t, because it hurt more than a thousand knives to his cold, stone heart.

**********

One day, Chishiya was standing on the edge of a balcony that looked over the entrance to The Beach. He enjoyed standing up there because he loved the spectacular view of the ocean. It reminded him of his real home, when he used to ride his bike down to the beach with his friends and swim in the water for hours. He missed life when it was so easy for him.

The breeze was cool on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It felt refreshing and somewhat free, a small taste of bliss for him. His eyes were shut as he listened to the crows screech in the distance and the ocean waves hit the shore. The sound of nature rang in his ears, making his endorphins swirl in his brain.

It was a good break every now and then from the usual melancholy emotions that swarmed around him, keeping his happiness locked down in chains. While he was on that balcony, actually breathing fully and normally for once, his demons decided to let loose of the chains that held his sweet happiness trapped.

Chishiya opened his dark eyes and glanced downwards towards the bottom level and saw something that caught his eye.

A group of three militants seemed to have a young woman in their grasp, one of them being Niragi himself. Chishiya watched as they tried hard to hold the smaller person at bay, as she was thrashing around trying to escape.

He frowned, confusion painting across his face. That girl, she looked oddly familiar.

Niragi told the militants to bring her around the side of the building, where a small alley was located beside the entrance. Chishiya knew that’s where the militants dragged people to kill them off, they were planning on killing her.

Chishiya wondered what she did that was so bad. Hatter hardly ever gave the order to kill someone, unless the situation was betrayal or anything worse.

He moved himself along the balcony towards where the commotion below him was occurring. He wanted to hear what they were saying, because who knows what shit Niragi gets up to without Hatter knowing. It seemed a little too suspicious to be dragging someone to their death in broad daylight, especially where everyone could see.

Chishiya heard slight fragments of what they were yelling: “You thought- … run away?!” Niragi screamed in his psychotic voice. “Let go of-...! …could have just left me there!”

Chishiya felt his heart drop. That voice, it was all too familiar. How could he have forgotten what your voice sounded like.

He lifted his head and stared forward in shock. That couldn’t be right, you’ve been dead for weeks!

He thought for a second, trying to come to a possible conclusion with the horrific yells in the background of his mind. How is it possible you could still be alive?

That couldn’t be you, it just couldn’t be. Chishiya shook his head and chuckled. “The fuck am I thinking? Great, now I’m hallucinating. No one told me that was another stage of grief.”

He turned his body to walk back inside to look for Kuina, until he heard the young woman getting attacked yell again, this time, clear as day.

“Chishiya! Kuina!”

That was it. That was definitely you.

Chishiya lifted his legs and began sprinting towards the staircase inside. There was no doubt in his mind that that wasn’t you. The way you said his name was too real to not be you.

He tripped and stumbled down the stairs, almost falling flat on his face on one flight. He had to get there before you were dead, for real this time.

As he pushed his entire body weight against the entrance doors to the hotel, he pulled a small knife out his white hoodie pocket. He had made it out of glass from his broken mirror, considering that Hatter wouldn’t allow him to have his own weapons.

Your screams were much more prominent now, more desperate sounding and more fearful. The sound pierced through Chishiya as he made his way quickly around the side of the hotel.

There you were, being pinned against the wall by two militants while Niragi held the barrel of his rifle against your chest, right over your heart.

Chishiya yelled out, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering his current situation. It was three tall men with guns against a small, frail man with a makeshift knife.

“Chishiya! The fuck you doing here?” Niragi asked with a cheeky smirk on his face. God, Chishiya wanted to punch him so bad.

“Let her go Niragi, you don’t want this to get ugly do you?” Chishiya threatened, holding his glass knife out.

Niragi laughed along with the other two militants. You still struggled against their grip, seemingly more calm with Chishiya distracting them.

“How cute ‘ey? Little blonde twink coming to save the love of his life, how sweet of you.” Niragi pressed, pushing his rifle harder against you just to push Chishiya’s buttons.

“If you haven’t noticed Chishiya, she ran away! She never died like you thought she did! She ran away from The Beach, she ran away from you!”

His words were like bullets in Chishiya’s chest. He felt belittled and mocked, he hated it.

“Shut up! She wouldn’t do that!” he yelled frustratingly.

“Oh really?! She wouldn’t?! Then explain why we managed to find her strolling the streets of Tokyo! Not a scratch on her, and she seemed smart enough to run away when she saw us.”

Chishiya’s scowl dropped on his face. He looked at you to see if you would deny it, but you had stopped struggling against the two men and hung your head low, not looking into his eyes.

He shook off the hurt he felt from this fact. He had to focus on getting you away from Niragi before he took time to think about other things.

“Niragi please. Just let go of her, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Chishiya begged. He felt small, never has he ever begged for something in his life.

“Hmm? How though? I was just about to have some fun with her before I killed her off. Why should I give that up just because you want me to,” Niragi spat at him. Your eyes widened in fear and you thrashed around in the grip that the militants had on you, panicking from Niragi’s threat.

Chishiya thought for a second. He would honestly give anything to bring you over to him. “My cards. You can take credit for every card that I collect for a couple of months. If Hatter or Aguni asks, just say I’m slacking. I’ll take any punishment they throw my way.”

You saw Niragi consider it before lowering his weapon off of your torso. You breathed out heavily in relief.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to do this again. You can’t bribe me with everything you sneaky fuck.” Niragi growled. The two militants let go of you and followed him out of the alleyway and into the entrance of The Beach.

You leant against the wall, staring at Chishiya as he stared down at the ground below him. The air between you two was tense. You could tell he was mad, Chishiya was always silent when he was incredibly angry.

“Chish, I-”

“Don’t talk to me. Just come.”

Don’t get me wrong, he couldn’t have been happier to see that you were alive and well. But the betrayal he felt from the fact that you ran away from him greatly outweighed his happiness.

He walked briskly ahead of you, you didn’t dare walk next to him or too close to him. He was scaring you a bit, and you wanted nothing but to sprint to your own room and hide from the rest of the world.

You were embarrassed and also frustrated you were caught. Trust Niragi and his cocky ass to find you.

Chishiya stopped in front of his own room, opened the door and gestured for you to walk inside. You hesitated before slowly making your way through the door. You hated how tense it was, it was the complete opposite of what you usually felt when you were around Chishiya.

You sat down on his bed, sitting in an awkward position and looked towards Chishiya. It was complete silence as he was frozen at the door, back towards you and holding the door handle harshly.

“What the fuck Y/N?” he mumbled. It was almost inaudible, but you could hear pain in his words, which made you immediately feel guilty.

“What the fuck was that? You ran away!?” he turned and yelled at you, tears building up in his eyes.

You flinched as his loud voice. You had never heard him yell in anger before, usually he kept his calm. You looked down to the ground, feeling your own eyes fill with hot tears. You felt like you were back in high school with your parents screaming at you for running away from home.

“I THOUGHT YOU DIED!” he shouted louder, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN YOU PUT KUINA THROUGH?! HOW MUCH YOU PUT ME THROUGH?!”

You couldn’t breathe. Pain and suffering dripped off his words like rain on a roof, coming together and creating an atmosphere that held air that was unbreathable. You suffocated on the oxygen, making you choke and cause tears to begin running down your cheeks.

“Why!?” he cried. “Why did you run!? There was no reason, me and Kuina could have protected you if you were too scared! Why did you think that running away was the only option!?” Chishiya stumbled closer to you, almost tripping over his own feet.

You flinched heavily as he placed his cold hands on your shoulders roughly. They were shaking from trying to hold your sobs in.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE-” “Chishiya!” you interrupted him by snapping your head up to meet your eyes with his. His face dropped as he saw the sadness behind yours, replacing the wonderful and cheerful happiness that once swam in your eyes like dolphins in a sea.

“I l-love you,” you mumbled out between your shaky breaths. “That was the problem Chish. I-I’m in love with you and it hurt too fucking bad to know that you could disappear out of my reach at any moment. I ran because I didn’t want to watch you and Kuina die!”

Chishiya’s own hands shook violently against your shoulders. He gazed into your eyes which were red and puffy from your tears. They were shining more now than they had ever before.

“You don’t have to leave Y/N,” he whispered, still trying to control his own breathing. “I want you here, next to me. Not out there, because when you’re out there, I can’t be with you.”

You nodded and smiled sadly. Chishiya pulled his hand from your shoulder and cradled your face gently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek to get rid of the tears there. “I love you too, but I can’t be without you.”

A grin crept onto your face as you looked into his eyes. You felt safer than ever in his arms, why did you think of ever leaving?

Chishiya wiped his own tears with his hoodie sleeve and put on a happier smile. “You want to know how pathetic I am without you?” he giggled and held your hands in his.

“I almost threw myself off the top of the hotel the night you didn’t come back. Kuina had to tackle me to the ground to keep me away from the edge.” he laughed at himself.

You chuckled along with him. “Imagine if you did! What a shocker it would’ve been if I came back and Kuina saw me alive after you killed yourself because you thought I was gone!”

You both sat on Chishiya’s bed and laughed at each other. You had to do it, humour is best in times of stress and anxiety.

*********

You opened your eyes slowly, only to be met with the blinding light of the sun seeping through the blinds. You hissed and turned your head the other way.

Chishiya chucked at your reaction, making his chest that was underneath your head vibrate. “So cute,” he muttered to himself.

You pushed your face deeper into his chest and breathed in his scent. It felt good to be back with Chishiya. It felt good to be home.

Author’s Note: oKaY so this ended up being a lot longer than expected. Please send in some requests if you have any! 🥰🥰

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jekacatrina · 3 years ago

Text

Fate don't know you like I do

Hello, guys, have this super cheesy and self indulgent piece I wrote for Bakudeku day! I'm so happy to be part of this fandom and all the wonderful content creators out there, so here's my little contribution, enjoy! I wrote it super fast so sorry for any mistake or typo!

Also, the title is a song I love, please check it out, it inspired the whole thing!

Izuku wakes up to the sight of his bedroom ceiling, body aching and mind restless. He’s no longer wearing his hero suit, except for the undershirt and his pants, everything else is gone. Slowly, the yells of the crowd infiltrate his thoughts and he wishes to run away, to go to where he can’t hurt anyone he cares about.

He has to leave. He is being selfish. Izuku props himself up on his elbows.

“That’s the face of a rabbit ready to bolt,” the gruff voice startles him, and he turns to see Kacchan sitting on his desk, frowning. It adds up that they wouldn't leave him without someone standing guard.

Kacchan has changed out of his hero suit, and a dark grey long sleeved t-shirt hides the bandages on his shoulder and stomach, but Izuku is keenly aware of the wounds he was sporting as he flew around trying to keep him from leaving. By the end, his childhood friend was bleeding through them. That was Izuku’s fault; both Kacchan reopening his injuries and the fact that he has them in the first place.

“Kacchan, I'm so-“

“Save it, nerd,” he abandons the desk chair and shuffles closer.

Izuku takes him in; after weeks of agonizing over the state in which he left Kacchan, seeing him do a perfect arch in the air and stop a villain with a precise AP Shot, filled him with a relief so strong, it paralyzed him, and he was only able to stare in awe.

During the following fight, if Izuku can call it that when it was against his friends, Kacchan was everywhere; coordinating different maneuvers, and he even had a new move. Izuku told his friends they couldn’t keep up, and he remembers vaguely that he apologized, because in reality they’re miles ahead of him.

Still, nobody is like Kacchan: certain and absolute, pure will held together by his convictions. He never backs down, and he never gives up, only marches forward. Izuku never stood a chance against him, in more than one way.

Kacchan kneels by the bed, putting an elbow on the bed, close to his hips, and lazily resting his head on his hand.

“Kacchan, I can’t stay here,” he mumbles, trying to convey all his inner turmoil. He wants to stay, he is so tired and scared, but he will not risk anyone for his sake.

Kacchan frowns in response.

“You can, and you will, dumbass,” he states, surprising him by clutching his forearm. “I’m not chasing your sorry ass around anymore.”

“Then let me go,” Izuku turns his arm, grabbing him as well.

“You’re not going anywhere, Izuku.”

The name travels through his body, lighting him up on the inside, coursing through him with the violence of the first time he used One For All, equally exhilarating and terrifying.

It all comes back to him; the rain, his words, his bow, Izuku collapsing and Kacchan appearing in time to support him.

Izuku.

“You apologized,” he whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “You said all those things in front of the whole class.”

“I had to, asshole, you left before I could tell you in private,” he doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful. Kacchan doesn’t shy away from his decisions once he makes up his mind. “Only a shitty letter for explanation and that was it.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t even let me go with you, idiot.”

“You’re still dealing with the outcome of the last time I let you come with me.” The tears are running freely down his cheeks. “I had to watch how he almost took you away from me.” He scrubs his eyes furiously with his free hand, not letting go of Kacchan. “I can’t allow more people to suffer because of me.” He’s on his way to a full on breakdown, struggling to get air in his lungs, and blood roaring in his ears, the noises muffled.

Suddenly, Kacchan is hovering over him, shoving his shoulder firmly.

“Hey, Deku, scoot over,” Izuku only glances at him through his crying, baffled. “Give me some room to lay down, like when we were kids.” He’s already in the process of climbing on the bed, and Izuku manages to slide his body closer to the other end, grabbing the bed cover when the weight of his childhood friend laying down almost makes him roll over him. “Jesus Christ, you stink,” Kacchan complains.

“I know,” Izuku turns on his side, creating more space between them. Hygiene wasn’t that high on his list of priorities, not even eating or sleeping was, and he feels awful. He didn’t have the energy to shower before passing out.

“You smell like dirt and sweat.” Kacchan scrunches up his nose. “Worst of all, you reek of that goddamn martyr complex, and it pisses me off.” he turns too, and traps Izuku in his red gaze. “If you’re choosing to ignore all I said before, at least pay attention to the last part.” He’s not sugarcoating his words, he’s as brash as he always is. “We all want to fight, because we’re heroes and we want to protect everyone, including the fucking chosen one, whether you want us to or not. I’m not asking for your damn permission, and neither is any of the rest. So, you can either play nice and make it easy for us, or be a self-sacrificial idiot, making it all the more annoying. Your call.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” Izuku grimaces, reaching for him with a shaky hand, and awkwardly squeezes his arm. “I’m not ignoring all you said, Kacchan” he chooses to focus on that, gaze in his All Might covers. “I, I forgave you a long time ago, mostly because I wanted to focus on the good parts, so in a way I let go of it for me.” He forgets about his smell, and scoots closer, resting his forehead close to his shoulder. “But thank you, Katsuki.” He hasn’t said that name in ages, but that doesn’t come from any animosity on his part. Kacchan has always been and will always be Kacchan. Izuku feels him move as Kacchan places his chin on top of his matted curls, and they stay like that for a while, with their past laid to rest at last.

Kacchan speaks up first.

“Listen, Deku, everything is getting pretty fucking real,” he pauses for a moment. “Shit is really dangerous for any of us, but for you it is like a thousand times worse. Your ass is a fucking death magnet, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“One For All is a big responsibility, Kacchan, but it’s not yours.” He does his best to keep his voice low and soft, the weight of the legacy crushing him.

“The Hell is not!” Kacchan retorts vehemently. “You made it my deal the moment you told me!” Izuku winced. “What’s up with that? Wasn't that the biggest secret ever? Are you that much of a blabber mouth?”

Izuku clutches his arm harder.

“I wasn’t going to let you think I lied all those years.” He explains, and in a moment of bravery, he continues. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Kacchan.”

The anger in his voice disappears as fast as it came.

“I know that, idiot.” His bigger hand finds Izuku’s hip. “One for All is your responsibility, but you are mine.” Izuku is pretty sure he stops breathing. “Since we were fucking four years old, and you were this quirkless little shit that wouldn’t quit chasing after me, no matter how much I pushed you away.” Kacchan scoffs and his breath tickles him. “Well, congrats, dumbass, now you have me and I’m not going anywhere.” His heart flies to his throat and doesn’t let any word come out. Kacchan growls, clearly bothered by his silence. “All for One VS One For All is the fucking shit show for the ages, and of course you, Deku of all people, have to be right in the middle of that crap.” He talks through clenched teeth, and Izuku longs to soothe him, but there’s nothing he can say to fix the situation. “All those who fell against that fucking maniac and now you have to-” Kacchan chokes up, and punches Izuku on the arm. “Whatever, there's nothing I can do for those nobodies that came before you, but you have an advantage over them.”

“What’s that?” He whispers in a small voice, not believing he is having this conversation in bed with his childhood friend.

“You have me,” Kacchan utters, and Izuku feels like he hit him with an explosion, sweeping his feet from under him. “Just let me set something straight, Deku, I’m not going to be your fucking sidekick, you hear me? You watch my back and I watch yours. I don’t trust anyone to keep up with you.”

I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.

“Kacchan-”

“You deal with this crap once and for fucking all, Deku, and we come up on top.” Kacchan declares, Izuku can hear the smirk in his words, and he has to smile back. “I don’t settle for anything but the best, and taking down fucking evil incarnated, I’m in, Deku, I’m all in.” He disentangles them, leaning back with a vulnerable expression, and offers his hand for Izuku to clasp. “What do you say?”

Izuku wants to say no, push him away from danger and lock him somewhere where he is going to be safe, but he knows Kacchan. He is determined, stubborn to a fault, and braver than anyone he has met. If he sets his mind on protecting Izuku, nothing is going to stop Kacchan, not even him.

That’s why Izuku loves him like he does.

In this space, with just the two of them, Izuku can be honest with himself: He is scared, and he has been for a while.

Scared of not living up to All Might’s hopes.

Scared of never mastering this power.

Scared of letting down all the people that gave up their lives to take down All For One.

Scared of being the wrong choice.

At the end of the day, Midoriya Izuku is terrified of not being enough.

In the midst of all the fear and doubt, he sees Kacchan; the person Izuku admires the most, the hero he has chased since he was four years old, and the driving force behind his progress. Kacchan, who knows all of him, and understands him because he sees Izuku for who he is, all the good and bad parts.

His Kacchan, who is now offering to help him and ease his burden, risking his dream, his precious life in the process, to stay close to Izuku and protect him.

A part of him, the one that imitates All Might, is screaming at him that he has to reject the support, to do it on his own. He should hold the weight of the legacy by himself. However, the other part of him, the one that believes Kacchan is what victory looks like, tells him he isn’t All Might and he doesn’t have to be.

He is Midoriya Izuku, and he is allowed to live his life and fight his battles on his terms, just as Kacchan does.

He clasps his hand, and Kacchan smiles, without a trace of mockery or anger, just plain happiness and relief lifting the corners of his mouth. Izuku hasn't seen him smile like that in years, and he needs to say something. He means to say yes to his offer, maybe thank him, but what comes out instead is:

“I love you.”

The punched out gasp that Kacchan lets out shocks Izuku more than his confession does. He can’t believe the words he has hidden for so long in his heart escaped that easily. More shocking is the fact that he doesn’t want to take it back. Even if he is scared of many things, Kacchan isn’t one of them. Yes, Kacchan frustrates him, he worries him, and makes him nervous, but Izuku is not scared of him, never has been. He can die any day now, any of them can, and he is done with silencing his feelings.

Kacchan is not screaming or scowling, neither he is leaping out of the bed and running away from him, so Izuku would say he is mostly stunned, although he doesn’t see why. His feelings for him are a key part of the person he is. Izuku admires him, cares for him.

Izuku loves him.

“Do you mean it?” The question seems to pain him. He hasn’t released his hand.

“Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku is not hiding it, not anymore.

“After everything?”

The words strike his heart and cut deeply. Izuku doesn’t hold any grudge or resentment, and he can’t tolerate the idea of Kacchan thinking he can feel something for him despite their past.

“Because of everything, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, touching their joined hands with his forehead, shying from the red eyes. “The past doesn’t disappear, but that’s not our present, and definitely not our future.” He takes a deep breath to calm his heart. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get an answer.”

“Deku, you can do so much better,” Kacchan says, bluntly.

Izuku doesn't let the obvious rejection deter him from speaking with the truth.

“I don’t see how,” he stares at him, mustering a wonky smile. “You are you, Kacchan; you’re brave, honest, loyal, brilliant, and hardworking.” The words spill without filter, and he drinks the sight of his pale skin blushing. “It’s not about doing better, just who I choose, because when it comes down to it, I chose you a long time ago, Kacchan.”

Kacchan tips his head up, the blond strands cloaking his eyes. Izuku refuses to regret coming clean about his feelings, but as the silence grows between them, he starts to fidget. Little by little, he realizes the true weight of his confession, and the bridges he might be burning.

“This doesn’t have to change anything, Kacchan.”

“It changes everything, Deku,” he replies, not missing a beat.

Izuku curses his luck; it was just like him to confess his love right when Kacchan finally came back to him, something Izuku hadn’t dreamt in his wildest dreams. Dealing with these feelings much longer, when they are so powerful and consuming is not possible. Still, he should have tried, for the sake of their friendship.

A callous finger touches his chin, breaking his spiral of thoughts, and lifts his face. The fiery eyes are wide and defenseless, embers instead of the wild inferno Izuku expected.

The first touch of chapped lips is an awakening, and his first kiss is over before he can finish tasting it.

Kacchan leans back, and for the second time in his life, Izuku’s mind goes blank and his body moves on its own, chasing after him. Their second kiss is messy, they don’t have any experience, but Izuku is lost to it. He tries to commit to memory every brush of their lips and ragged gasps, how soft is his blond hair, and the feeling of fingers sinking in his curls, guiding the kiss.

They break apart, but stay close.

"You didn’t have to do that, Kacchan,” he says against his mouth.

“I never do shit I don’t want to do, Deku.”

Izuku grabs him again, bunching up his t-shirt, so full of love that he fears he is going to float away if he doesn’t get a firm grip.

“Deku, I-“ his voice quivers and Izuku kisses him again, softly and reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, you don’t have to say anything yet.” Izuku told him because he wanted him to know, but he has had years to come to terms with it. He’s not expecting Kacchan to figure everything out right now.

“You better stick around after that, you damn nerd,” he touches their foreheads together. “Or take me with you. Two options, I’m magnanimous like that.”

Izuku giggles, the sound so foreign after the past weeks.

“Okay, Kacchan, for that I’ll stick around.”

“Or you’ll take me with you.”

Izuku is still terrified of anything happening to him, but he trusts him the most.

“I’ll stick around or take you with me,” he promises, and Kacchan nods satisfied, wrapping Izuku in his arms and hugging him closer. “I thought you said I stink.”

“You fucking do,” Kacchan says immediately. “When I think about this, the first thing that is going to pop into my mind is that my first kiss smelled like a wet dog.”

Izuku laughs until he cries, and Kacchan joins him.

At one point, his back is to Kacchan, and he’s playing with his hands. Izuku’s so relaxed his eyes are drifting close, sleep taking over.

“Hey, Deku,”

“Yes, Kacchan?” he says drowsily.

“You have magnificent taste.”

Izuku snorts, pulling his arm tighter around him.

“I’m going to sleep now,” he murmurs, and he jumps when Kacchan buries his face on the crook of his neck. “Wake me up if something happens.”

“You can trust me, Deku, nobody is going to pass through me.”

Izuku believes him with his entire heart, but he still chooses to only think and not say what crosses his mind before falling asleep in his arms:

I would die before letting anything happen to you.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha 322 #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #happy bakudeku day guys!

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Words: 5,266 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: I didn't do nearly as many read-throughs with this one so there are probably typos. Also YA'LL. ARE. GONNA. LOVE. THIS. A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: After the visit from the Saviors at Hilltop, Daryl and Y/N finally head back to Alexandria, waiting on the edge of war.

Your name: submit What is this?

That night, after the Saviors left, was to be your last in Hilltop before you returned to Alexandria to officialyl kick the hornet nest. You had said something about going to talk to Maggie but after a while you still hadn’t returned and Daryl went to see if there was anything he could help with. He knocked on the door of Jesus’ trailer and Enid pulled open the door. Everyone was there, except for you.

“Hey. Y/N ain’t here?” he drawled. Maggie noticed how his brow drew down low over his eyes, a clear expression of worry.

“She was but she left a while ago,” Jesus said, climbing to his feet. “I assumed she was headed your way.”

“Nah. She ain’t been back.” His stomach twisted a little with anxiety. “Alright… Thanks,” he said, turning to leave.

“Daryl, wait!” Maggie called after him. She got up from her seat at the table and walked over. “You’re leavin’ early in the mornin’, right?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Headin’ back.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright. Then let us say goodbye to ya now in case we don’t see ya.” She grabbed Daryl into a tight hug before he could protest. He was stiff at first but he soon pressed a hand to her back and returned it. “You be safe. And we’ll see ya soon.”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. Sasha grabbed him briefly into a hug. Enid waved from her place on the couch and Jesus strode forward to shake his hand. “Thanks for all your help here,” he said. “It really means a lot.”

Daryl nodded again. “Mhm. We’ll be rid of ‘em for good soon. See ya’ll.” The archer’s broad frame disappeared back outside. He stopped for a minute and scanned the open space for your familiar frame, but he couldn’t see you anywhere. The first places he checked were all the guard posts along the wall but there was no sign of you. He tried Abraham and Glenn’s graves next, but no luck. Then his eyes fell on the stable and he knew you sometimes went there in an attempt to quiet your mind, and after that interaction with Negan today, the things he had said loud enough for everyone to hear, Daryl suspected that your mind needed a little quieting.

His guess was right.

You came into view, leaning up against one of the stall doors, petting a mare who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention. There was only the glow of a few lanterns to light the space and your expression was cast in shadow when he came in, the soft hay making his steps nearly silent.

“Hey,” he said, drawing your eyes. “Been lookin’ for ya.”

“Sorry,” you said softly.

“Nah, it’s not¬—nothin’ to be sorry for,” he said, crossing the space to you. You didn’t have a smile for him this time and his concern grew. “Ya alright? Today was…” he broke off, not even sure what word to use.

You were usually quick to reassure him that you were fine, but this time you didn’t. You just stared ahead and absently smoothed your hand down the horse’s neck, trying to gather your courage to speak.

Daryl stepped closer to you until he was leaned up right beside you against the stall door. “Hey. C’mon. Talk to me. What is it?”

He watched you gulp and shut your eyes for a moment, gathering yourself. You shook your head a little and let out a shaky exhale before you glanced over at him. “Negan. What he—he said—and… everyone… the rest of the day today, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. And you know that feeling you get when you enter a room and people were just talking about you? It felt like that in all of Hilltop today.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the tears burning in your eyes from spilling out. “Everybody here must just think I—”

“Hey, c’mon. Stop that. Nobody thinks anything about it,” he said trying to reassure you. But you turned your eyes down toward your hands.

“The way some of them were looking at me? Yeah. They do, Daryl… Now all of Hilltop knows that I—that I slept with Negan. With him.” It was hard even to get the words out. “And I can’t even really blame them. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I never should have allowed—” you said quietly, breaking off and shuffling your feet back and forth anxiously in the soft bedding on the barn floor. You could no longer stop any of the tears from spilling out and Daryl saw them cascade down your cheeks as you finally looked back up at him and met his blue eyes. “I can’t even blame them for what they probably think of me. What you must think of me…” You hastily wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks. “Hell, a lot of the time—” you shook your head, staring down at your hands again, “I think the worst of it myself…”

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. His gaze was intense. He hated that you had been put in that situation. He hated that circumstances had ever collided in just such a way as to put you in a place where your only option was to submit to Negan, to allow him to lay a finger on you. And then you’d gone back. For him. “Ya want to know what I think? Ya were victimized by him. But ya ain’t a victim. You’re a survivor. That’s all ya did. Ya survived. And ya saved my ass! Ya didn’t have a choice. And any of them who are too stupid to figure that out ain’t worth it. They don’t know a damn thing about it. All the rest of us, Maggie, Jesus, Rick, Aaron & Eric, we know. We know. I’m proud to even know ya. And I consider myself lucky that ya’ve chosen me as bein’—as bein’ someone worth yer time.” He watched you wipe another tear off your cheek, your eyes wide and glassy as you looked back at him. He tilted his head gently at you. “C’mere.” His expression was soft and one you never could refuse.

It was all you needed. You fell into him and his strong arms wrapped around you tightly and pressed you into him, like he needed you there against his chest. Daryl breathed in the scent of your hair and settled you against him, smoothing his hands over your back lightly. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and focused on that feeling of safety. “S’alright. I ain’t ever thought less of ya because of what happened to ya. It ain’t your fault. Wasn’t a choice. And if anybody so much as looks at ya sideways, ya just come tell me and I’ll knock them on their ass, alright?”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. You pressed your hand flat against his chest, loving how you could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingers and the expansion of his lungs as he breathed. You pulled back slightly so you could look up into his handsome face. He looked worried still, anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. But, finally, you gave him a smile, albeit still a little teary, and he relaxed some. His fingers smoothed through your hair and you sighed, feeling a return of the warmth he always gave you. It grew and spread outward in your chest, spilling into your face, and you arched up onto your toes and kissed him.

You were setting your heels back down when his arm snaked around your lower back and pulled your hips into his. You looked up and met his eyes again and he nudged his nose up once. Daryl’s request for another kiss. You gladly acquiesced and this time you both sank into it, breathing each other in. Daryl’s hand clasped your face and his thumb traced the edge of your jaw gently as your lips moved in sync with his, effortless. The sensation of your hands light on his sides was enough to send him reeling with electricity.

“Thanks,” you said softly, after you finally broke apart. Daryl’s hands were landed on your hips and he gave you a questioning look. “Just—for what you said.”

“Ain’t gotta thank me. S’just the truth,” he said. He gave your hip an affectionate squeeze. “C’mon. S’late and we gotta get up early to head home. Let’s get some sleep.” He nudged his head in the direction of the door and you nodded.

You smiled as he laced his fingers with yours and tugged you back to the trailer.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl’s bike rumbled down the road and he pulled it into the garage at Aaron and Eric’s which was standing open. You were still climbing off when the door into the house burst open and Aaron and Eric both came bounding down the stairs.

Aaron reached you first and barreled into you, drawing a laugh from you as you stumbled backward a little before regaining your balance. Daryl watched the interaction with one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Aaron said, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

You patted his back. “You too,” you said fondly, smiling widely.

“Alright, quit hogging her!” Eric said, shaking his head. Aaron pulled back and gave you a warm smile before stepping aside to let Eric wrap his arms around you. “We’ve missed you,” he said.

“Missed you guys, too,” you replied, shutting your eyes and giving Eric a final squeeze.

“How’s Hilltop?” Aaron asked as you finally withdrew, glancing between you and Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. “Ready as they’ll ever be. Maggie’s got it,” he nodded. “How’re things here?”

“Ready,” Aaron said. “For the most part. We’re expecting The Saviors today thanks to your intel.”

You felt your stomach twist and you nodded. “Yeah… Hard to believe we’re really about to do this.”

“It’s time,” Eric said, looking suddenly sad. “You heard about Olivia and—and Spencer?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We heard,” you trailed off. “Olivia was sweet. That shouldn’t have happened to her, of all people. But Spencer? What the hell was he thinking?” you asked, shaking your head sadly. “He put himself right in the line of fire… he was naïve, but nobody deserves what happened to him.”

“He couldn’t handle Rick being in charge after his Mom,” Aaron said. “Thought he could do better.”

“Only someone who was completely clueless about what that means would say that,” Daryl drawled. “Ain’t an easy job, what Rick’s doin’. And he feels responsible for every damn thing that happens to everybody.”

You sighed. “That’s a lot of weight to carry around…”

“Speakin’ of,” Daryl said, glancing back over at you. “I wanna go see everybody. Check in with Rick.”

You nodded. “Go. I’m gonna catch up with these two for a bit.”

“They’re gonna wanna see ya, too,” Daryl said.

You felt your cheeks flush a little, nerves still at the idea of being brought so fully in as part of Daryl’s ‘family’. “Alright. I’ll meet you there in a little while,” you said with a nod. “Promise.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod. “Alright. See ya soon, then. Aaron. Eric,” he said, nodding at each of them. Daryl disappeared out into the bright morning sun.

Considering what he knew was coming, Alexandria seemed quiet.

But when he pulled open the front door of the house his group shared and paced into the kitchen, he was surrounded by his chosen family. Rick placed Judith in his arms and smiled as Daryl cooed at the little girl. “It’s good to have you back,” Rick said, clasping Daryl’s shoulder when he could.

Daryl nodded. “Yah. Good to be back.” He bounced Judith a couple more times and then glanced at Carl. “Hey. Take her for a minute, would ya? I gotta talk to your dad.”

Carl accepted his baby sister and Daryl straightened Rick’s old hat on the teenager’s head, eliciting a smile.

Once Carl was out of ear shot, Daryl leaned onto the counter with his forearms and sighed heavily. “We really doin’ this?” he drawled. “Ready?”

Rick nodded. “We’re doing it. And we’re ready. Everything is set.”

“And Negan?”

Rick scowled. “I’ll take care of him when the time is right.”

Daryl stared down at the pattern of countertop for a moment. “What if I get the chance first? Or Y/N? We ain’t supposed to take it?” he asked. “If anyone deserves to put that bastard in the ground it’s her. I can’t tell her not to.”

The muscle in Rick’s jaw twitched. “Yeah… I know. But—for now? We need to knock down what he’s built first. Can’t just be him.”

“I know. But if we get a shot at him… Rick, I want him dead,” Daryl growled. “For what he did to Glenn and Abraham. For what he did to all of us. For Hilltop, for the Kingdom… but most of all for her.” The archer straightened up. “If we get the chance, no hesitation. He’s dead.”

Rick eventually nodded, a tentative agreement. He wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger on Negan, but how could he argue for you or Daryl to not get the job done if the opportunity presented itself. “Where is Y/N?” Rick asked.

“Catchin’ up with Aaron and Eric. She said she’d come by in a bit.”

“Good. That’s good…” There was the weight of many cares on his shoulders. “When they get here, I don’t want either of you two anywhere they might be able to see you,” Rick said.

“Why? They saw us yesterday at Hilltop. They already know we’re part of this.”

“I know. I just don’t want to give them an opportunity to take a shot at either of you,” he replied. “And after yesterday, at Hilltop, with what they now know? They might.”

Daryl sighed and anxiously chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Ya, about that… Negan said somethin’ yesterday. He wants Y/N alive.”

Rick stared at his friend, his brow furrowing more deeply. “Alive?”

Daryl nodded, pacing a little restlessly. “That’s what he said to his douchebag lieutenant Simon. It seemed genuine. He wants her prisoner, and I don’t think he’d kill her after he got his hands on her.” Daryl’s face darkened with rage just at the thought. “So, that means that wherever we think Negan is gonna be, Y/N needs to not be…”

Rick considered the grave expression on Daryl’s face. “Will she agree to that?”

Daryl shrugged. “I dunno. But she’s gonna have to. I ain’t puttin’ her somewhere he might be able to get his hands on her again.”

“Not sure any of us can boss Y/N around,” Rick said, a small smile curving his lips despite the grim topic.

Daryl let out an amused exhale in place of a laugh. “Ya… tell me about it.”

As if on cue, Daryl and Rick heard the front door open and soft footsteps up the hall and into the kitchen. You had a small smile for Rick and the others who were gathered in the living room. Rick returned it as you came to stand beside Daryl. “Good to see you,” Rick said. “We sorely missed having both of you around. And not just because you two can get supply runs done in record time.”

You laughed a little lightly, exchanging a look with Daryl, and nodded. “We missed being home too.”

“Listen, I was just telling Daryl—” Rick hesitated. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near the gate when they show up. I don’t want him knowing you’re here.”

You straightened up and looked at Daryl briefly. His blue eyes met yours and he nodded once to show he was onboard. “Alright,” you said, turning back to look at Rick. “We’ll hang back.” Inside, you were hoping that if Negan didn’t see you there wouldn’t be a repeat of what he had divulged loudly for everyone at Hilltop the previous day. You sighed and looked at Rick. “Once you do this today, there’s no going back. And people are going to die. Our people.”

Rick’s expression was grave, but he nodded. “I know. But if we leave it be, more people will die anyway. At his hands.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “I just want to make sure you really understand what we’re all getting into. Negan, he’s—” You broke off, unable to continue and sighed.

“I know,” Rick said forcefully. “We’ve all seen it with our own eyes.” You weren’t looking up at him. “Hey—” he said, forcing your eyes back to his. “Whatever happens isn’t gonna be on you. You told us all you had to tell. You stopped us from rushing in unprepared. And you didn’t even have to do any of that. We owe you. More than I can say. And I—” Rick pressed his hand over the center of his chest, “I’m so grateful.”

At length, you nodded. “We’ll get it done. We will. I know it.”

Daryl was looking at you in awe of your strength and he watched with a swell of happiness as Rosita grinned at you and waved from her place in the other room and you went striding over to greet her.

“Daryl.” Rick’s voice drew his eyes again. “Whatever happens… we’re fighting the good fight.” And it was then that Daryl suddenly realized that Rick was worried that perhaps you might not make it through this. And he was worried about what that would mean for the archer. It was war. Anything could happen.

Daryl straightened up to his full height and chewed on his bottom lip anxiously. “Ain’t gotta worry. Y/N and I are both making it through this. Rick, she’s—” he paused and glanced back over at you, feeling himself soften as he watched you laugh at something Rosita had said, tossing your head back, your eyes crinkled closed. “She’s stronger than me. And she makes me strong. We’re gonna be just fine.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was surprised when he woke the next morning and realized you weren’t beside him. He shot straight up in bed, his heart pounding, and that’s when he realized that he could hear the shower running and the gentle sound of you humming to yourself over the pattering of the water. He flopped back down onto the pillow and reached over to your side, wanting to see if the warmth of you was still there.

Your side of the bed was cool but Daryl could still see the shape of your body in the sheets and the impression of your head on the pillow. He heard the shower turn off in the bathroom and the sound of you opening the door and stepping out. The archer climbed out of bed and made his way over to the doorway. He leaned against the door frame, taking in the shape of your figure wrapped in a towel, a comb in your hands as you ran it through your wet hair. You finally caught sight of him in the mirror and you gave him that megawatt smile that always sent electricity jumping up his spine and his heart skipping a beat.

“Hey. Morning,” you said, turning to look at him leaning up against the doorframe.

“Ya left me alone in bed?” he drawled. “Real nice…”

A small smile still curved you lips. “I’m sorry. You were really deeply asleep still. Must have needed it. I couldn’t sleep anymore and I just really wanted a hot shower.”

Daryl left his place leaning against the doorway and walked over to you in front of the mirror. His hands landed on your hips and you felt a flush of heat in your chest and face at the contact.

“Yah. Ya didn’t invite me to that either,” he joked quietly.

One of your eyebrows quirked down low over your eyes and you gave him a look, obviously trying to read what was on his mind. “Should I have?” you asked, turning around again to glance in the mirror. Daryl’s hands stayed on your hips and you soon felt his body pressing up against yours.

“Always,” he said, his voice deep and a little gruff with sleep still. He bent and kissed the bare skin on the side of your neck. The stubble on his face was exhilarating and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin immediately. He next pressed his lips to the skin on your shoulder. He thought you smelled of lavender and vanilla. His fingers gave your hips a gentle squeeze.

You bit your bottom lip. “Daryl Dixon…” you said softly. Your tone was smoky, silky, and it drew his eyes to yours in the mirror. “What are you doing?” you asked him playfully.

One corner of his mouth twitched up but then his expression was almost serious. He gently gathered the wet strands of your hair, his fingertips sweeping your neck softly, sending another electric jolt through you. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and pulled you back against him more tightly.

You felt your lips part slightly of their own accord and your eyes closed. You let out a small exhale and Daryl straightened up again, taking in your expression in the mirror and feeling a flame of heat growing in his chest. After a moment your eyes opened again and met his once more. “Do you know what you’re doing?” you asked quietly. Your breath and heart were increasing in pace and the tingles running through you were becoming impossible to ignore.

Daryl ducked his head a little bashfully for a moment, but only for a moment. When he caught your eyes again, he tilted his head back toward the doorway into the bedroom.

Now your heart was absolutely pounding. You broke from your gaze in the mirror and spun to face him, your brilliantly colored eyes searching his face. You peered up at him and once again Daryl was taken aback by the vulnerability he saw in your eyes. All he wanted in that moment was to wrap you up and make you truly his, show you exactly how goddamn head over heels he was for you. “Are you sure?” you said, and then you hesitated. “I mean, am I—am I reading this right?”

One of Daryl’s hands lifted from your hip and clasped your face gently. And he swept you in against him, his other hand on the small of your back, kissing you deeply and insistently. You felt your knees start to go weak but there was no chance of falling with Daryl’s arm around you, pressing your hips into his. His tongue flicked over your bottom lip and you granted him entrance, letting out a small noise of pleasure as he deepened the kiss even more.

You suddenly pulled back, your hand landing flush against his strong chest. “Wait. Wait…” you breathed, looking up into his handsome face, his blue eyes connected with yours. “Are you—is this—”

Daryl studied your expression and smiled at your hesitation as he realized you were worrying about him. He clasped your face again in both of his hands delicately, his eyes flickering between both of yours. “I’ve wanted this with ya for a long time. I just—I needed there to be other things first… I didn’t want to—to risk ruinin’ this because I rushed anythin’.”

You nodded though there was some mixture of confusion and disbelief on your face. You gently rested your hands on his sides. The lightness, the delicate quality of your touch drove him crazy…

“Hey, I—” he paused for a moment and licked his lips anxiously, his eyes never leaving yours. “Y/N, ‘M in love with you.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Daryl’s heart was pounding as he waited for your response.

The confusion and disbelief in your eyes was suddenly replaced with a wild happiness that grew, like your smile, by the moment. He felt your fingers curl more tightly into his shirt. “I love you, too,” you said. You let out a joyful laugh as you looked up at him and then immediately arched up onto your toes, crashing your lips into his again.

Daryl kissed you back eagerly, feverishly, but he pulled back suddenly leaving you wanting more. He stared down at you and you gave him a questioning look again, but were unable to stop smiling. “Can you, uhh—could ya just say that again?” he asked, a little self-consciously.

You grinned at him and looped your arms around his neck, looking deeply into his eyes. “Daryl Dixon. I’m so in love with you.”

His heart leapt to hear those words leave your lips and he crashed into you again, his arms pulling you into him and lifting you off your feet. When he set you back down, your lips didn’t separate and you pressed your hands into his strong chest, pushing him backwards into the bedroom again. You pulled his bottom lip in between your teeth, dragging them lightly over it, and smiled into the kiss as the action elicited a chesty growl from him. His fingers dug more deeply into your hips.

He broke from you for a brief moment and looked into your face. His eyes were intense, wanting. “Are ya ready for this? This okay? We don’t have to—”

You grinned at his sweetness and captured him in another fiery kiss briefly before pulling back again. “Get your damn clothes off right now,” you said breathily, grinning at him. “How is this fair? I’m already in just a towel.”

His pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth briefly and shook his head at you like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You grinned and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off over his head. Your eyes wandered over his strong shoulders and bare chest down to the V of his hips, hitching again on the scars crisscrossing his skin.

Your hands went to him immediately and you leaned into him. He gulped a little nervously, staring down at the unmistakable desire in your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him and arched up onto your toes again, your lips meeting his hungrily, and Daryl happily sank into it. Suddenly he felt your fingernails raking gently down his back and he almost shivered at the sensation. He felt the overwhelming warmth in his chest blooming outward, causing his head to go vaguely fuzzy.

Before he could even think about doing it himself, he felt the towel wrapped around you fall to the floor and suddenly his fingers were wandering over the bare shape of you, unimpeded by distracting or cumbersome fabric.

He smoothed his hands from the flared curve of your hips up the narrowing of your waist and onto the angles of your ribs. His fingers reached around your frame and felt the sharpness of your shoulder blades. You felt small beneath his hands, delicate, despite the fact that he knew you were no wilted daylily. His lips wandered from yours to leave a trail along your jaw and down your neck to your collarbone. You heaved in a small breath at the sensation. Your fingers found his waistband and soon both of you were only skin, completely reeling with the sensations of one another.

A moment later you let out a surprised gasp as Daryl picked you up as if you weighed nothing and laid you down in the bed beneath him. He leaned over you, propped up on one elbow, moving aside a strand of your hair with the other hand. You stared up at him wantingly, your lips parted and waiting again for his. His hands, a little rough but so gentle, clasped your face as he kissed you before tracing the line of your collarbone and wandering down to explore all your curves and angles. You pulled his lips back to yours and tangled your legs with his, gasping in pleasure as the two of you became one and moved in sync together effortlessly.

Daryl was sweet and gentle but needy and fiery all at once and you were both just bounding hearts and sensations, curling toes and waves of rising pleasure. He kept one hand laced with yours and couldn’t take his eyes off you beneath him as you moved together unless it was to press kisses to every part of you. You relished the feeling of his strong muscles moving beneath your fingers, and when you both finally reached the peak his lips on yours were insistent before they softened. He drew back to watch the expression on your face as the two of you came down from your high, rushing breaths and a heartbeat that was loud in your ears.

Daryl settled down beside you, his chest heaving and an arm draped over you which you rested your hand on.

“Oh my God,” you gasped breathily, glancing over at him with a starry smile on your face. You turned onto your side so you were facing him, knowing your face and cheeks were flushed. Your fingers traced over the scars on his chest and despite the afterglow you were basking in you felt a twinge of anger and sadness at what he had gone through.

“Yah,” he agreed, a smile curving his lips. “I can’t even tell ya how long I’ve wanted that.” You thought you saw a blush in his cheeks too. His hands smoothed up and down your side from your shoulder to your hip, memorizing the feeling of you.

You sighed contentedly. “Same.”

Daryl nudged his nose up at you and you gladly acquiesced and pressed your lips to his softly, clasping his face and running your thumb along the line of his strong jaw. You watched his blue eyes open and you drank in the softness in them. His hand came to rest on your hip and his thumb drew absent strokes on your soft skin. You pressed a hand flat to his chest so you could feel the racing of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

“Wish we could stay here like this forever,” you said softly.

“Mhm. Me too. We can for a while though at least,” he drawled, moving closer to you again so he could feel your weight and your warmth. You draped your arm over him, the tips of your fingers brushing his back. Daryl watched you fondly as you settled in against him and closed your eyes.

At that moment, it was hard to believe anything could ever break the sense of fulfillment and peace both of you had.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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alfredolover119 · 4 years ago

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I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story.

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that.

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee

-18k, teen, major character death

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN.

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham.

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

#zukka #zuko #sokka #angst #zukka angst #atla #avatar: the last airbender #fic recs #zukka fic recs

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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years ago

Text

BO SINCLAIR X READER - Waffle House Pt. 1

You're a server at the south's greatest and best-loved institution: Waffle House. The graveyard shift can be tough, but you can usually find ways to entertain yourself. Turns out tonight's entertainment is named Bo, and he wants to know if you're on the menu.

I wrote this especially for my friend Zin! This title is SAFE FOR WORK. Pt. 2 is NSFW (and in Bo's POV!)

Soundtrack: Diner Ambience ; Rain ; Faint Hard Rock

Words: 3,269

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

***

READER POV

It was raining when he came in, a light rain that tapped on the windows and made you want to leave your shift at Waffle House early to crawl into your warm bed. He was just some guy—average, white, brown hair, blue eyes. And yet you felt compelled to watch him as he tapped his dripping boots against the door and shook out his hat.

Wow.

You were new to the overnight shift. It was mostly truckers coming up and down the interstate, guys who just wanted to tuck into a warm meal and leave. They tipped well, too, so you didn't mind. It wasn't like your sleep schedule wasn't fucked anyway. May as well make some money while you were up all night.

This was the first time you'd had a physical reaction to any guy who'd walked in. You completely forgot about the orange juice you were in the process of putting away. You could feel your heart race as he gazed around the restaurant, and when his eyes found yours and he flashed you that grin?

Wow.

He took a seat at the breakfast bar, right in front of you, like he could sense your pulse quickening. "Evenin'."

Right, you were supposed to greet him. "Hi, there. Can I getcha some coffee?"

"That'd be real welcome, [miss / sir]." His crow's feet wrinkled, and he set his hat aside on the counter. His twang sounded so good mixing with the classic rock pouring from the speakers that you had to bite your lip to keep from sighing. "Sure is comin' down out there."

"Yeah," you agreed with a breathless laugh. God, did you sound stupid? You turned quickly, retrieving a mug and the fresh pot you'd just finished brewing. "How do you like it?"

"If you bring me the fixin's, I'll do it up," he said easily. When you turned and handed him the mug, his eyes found your chest, staring at your name tag for an extended moment. Then, his gaze crawled to yours. "Y/N."

Your face was so hot you wondered if he could see you blushing. Rather than say anything stupid, you practically shoved ramekins of creams and sugars at him, then mumbled some excuse or another before disappearing into the kitchen.

Pressed against the wall, you took a few deep breaths. You saw a hundred men every shift, some of them quite handsome, and yet this guy was standing out to you. Why, you had no idea, but you had a table of college kids to wait on and three other people at the counter ... you couldn't be fixated on this one person.

The cook glanced up at you, then did a double take, frowning. "You okay? Look like you're about to pass out."

Worried your Average Man had heard him, you cleared your throat and announced, "I was just getting some straws," before grabbing a handful and exiting.

You shoved the straws in your apron, trying to avoid eye contact with the man ... but as you poured refills and took orders, you found it hard not to glance over at him. He was just sitting, enjoying his coffee, but every so often, you could feel him watching you from the corner of his eye.

You knew you couldn't put off talking to him for long. You had to take his order, after all, and he'd been patient. As you walked back to him, he looked up, smiling brightly. "Welcome back."

"Thanks." Why were you thanking him? Jesus Christ, you sounded like an idiot. "Ready to order?"

He laughed a little, carding a hand through his slightly damp curls. "Once you give me a menu, darlin', I reckon I won't be long."

"Oh, sh— shoot." You scrambled to grab him a menu, slapping it down in front of him. "Sorry. It's been a long night."

"No worries." As he flipped the menu open, he nodded to his coffee cup. "Can I get some more a that, sweetpea?"

"Of course." Man, you were really fucking up this serving thing tonight.

By the time you'd grabbed the pot and refilled him, he'd set the menu down and was ready with two white packets between his fingers. He tore them both open in one motion, then looked at you, smirking. "Extra sugar. Don't tell."

Shit, you can have all the sugar you want. But your mouth was not half as dirty as your mind, and so you just smiled back, trying so hard to keep from giggling. "So, what'll it be?"

"I'll get the, uh ... Texas bacon patty melt with hashbrowns."

"Sure. How you want those hashbrowns?"

"Just plain. Actually, make 'em smothered. Oh, an' a side of biscuits 'n' gravy, please."

"You got it." You jotted the order down quickly and passed it through the kitchen window, readying yourself to move on to the next customer for your own sanity.

But it was the man's voice that drew you back to the counter: "Hey..."

You turned. He was about to ask you a question, you could tell from the tone of his voice. "What's up?"

"I'm not really from around here." His smile was friendly enough, but his shocking blue eyes seemed almost calculating. "S'pretty late, an' I don't feel like sleepin' in the truck again. You know any good motels 'round here?"

It didn't even occur to you in the moment that he could be flirting. "Well, there's a Motel 6 not far from here ... a Red Roof a few miles down the interstate. Those'll probably be your best options in terms of good quality."

His expression shifted a bit, but then his smile widened, crow's feet wrinkling again. "All right. Thanks, sugar."

Sugar. You weren't new to being called that—you lived in the south, after all—but something about the way he said it...

You tried to get him off your mind the rest of the night, but it was kind of difficult. Even after he'd finished his food, he lingered, draining coffees and flipping through a newspaper someone had left on the stool next to him. He got up to go to the restroom a couple times, but besides that, he stayed planted right in front of you, where it was impossible to ignore him.

It was an hour and thirty minutes later that your shift ended. You gathered your things, and as you headed toward the door, you weren't surprised to find him still there.

For some reason, only then did his lingering presence give you pause. Why was he hanging around a Waffle House at 3 a.m., anyway? He'd said he wasn't from around here ... had he gotten kicked out or something? Chosen a direction on the interstate and just started going?

Poor guy. You bit your lip, going back and forth with yourself for a few moments before your pity won out. "Hey, sir."

He looked over his shoulder, forehead wrinkling.

"Um, you take care. Lindsey'll ring you up whenever you're ready."

He cracked a smile and waved. "Take care, darlin'."

You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered at those words.

The sky was just beginning to turn the color of dusk, but it was still raining as you exited the restaurant and headed to your car. Your keys jingled as you wrestled them out of the pocket of your jacket. It took you a moment to find the keyhole in the driver's side door, squinting through the rain like you were.

The inside of the car was blissfully dry, and as you slammed the door and blocked out the pounding rain, you closed your eyes and pushed out a long breath. It was time to go home—have some dinner of your own, maybe some tea, then collapse in bed.

That thought finally moved you to put the key in the ignition and turn.

And turn.

...And turn.

Well, you were the only one turning, because the engine certainly fucking wasn't.

Dread crawled up your spine and gripped the back of your neck. What? How could something like this happen? You'd just paid through the nose for a ton of repairs and an inspection. How could your engine just...

Anxiety floated you as you climbed out of the car, braving the rain to look under the hood. But hell, you barely knew which one was the engine, let alone how to fix it if it was broken. Your hands shook as you fumbled for the hood prop, heat climbing your face and stinging your eyes. How were you gonna get this fixed? How would you even afford it? Below minimum wage and tips from truckers wasn't going to cut it.

You turned, leaning against the side of the car and taking your cellphone from your other pocket. The tears finally fell once you realized that you didn't have anyone to call. You slammed the hood of the car and covered your face.

"Hey."

The voice, raised over the downpour, made you jump. You'd been standing in the rain for a few minutes, sobbing your eyes out, and you were completely soaked through. The rain and the heat of your tears fogged your glasses so bad, you couldn't see who was there no matter how you squinted.

"Hey," he said again, much closer now. You recognized the twang.

Quickly, you grabbed your glasses off, wiping them against your shirt before replacing them. You could see the Average Man much more clearly now, watching you but keeping his distance.

"Hi," you managed, sniffling hard.

His face fell. In a few seconds, he was beside you, offering you a hanky from his back pocket. With a little mumble of thanks, you wiped your face and blew your nose. The hanky smelled like motor oil and musk. He was close enough for you to smell him, too, feel the heat coming off his body.

For some reason, that made you cry harder.

He clicked his tongue above you. "Why you cryin', darlin'? It's pourin' out; you're gonna get soaked."

"My ... my car," you managed, gesturing helplessly.

"Oh? Somethin' wrong with your car?"

"Yeah. And I don't know jack shit except the model and year." You vented your frustration in a hard exhale, wringing his hanky. "I just got it inspected, too."

The man paused for a moment. "Well, hey, I'm a mechanic. I could take a look if ya like."

You raised your head, wiping your glasses again. "I— no, it's fine. It's raining out, you don't have to..."

"I don't mind," he said dismissively, opening the hood with one hand and propping it up. "Pretty thing like you shouldn't cry like that."

Again, you found yourself staring at him. This man definitely gave off an ... energy, calling you pretty while fixing your car. For a stranger, he was certainly taking control of a situation he hadn't even been aware of a minute ago. You'd been well aware he was attractive and compelling, but this was a whole new level. You were so taken off guard you couldn't think of a response.

"Go ahead and climb in front," the man said, waving you that way. "Try 'n' start it when I knock on the window."

"Okay." You slid into the front seat again, waiting for his command. He knocked once, and you turned the key.

No luck. You hesitated before knocking back.

Another knock. No luck. After the third, he rapped on the driver's side window instead, and you opened the door for him.

He was soaked. His clothes were drenched to his skin, his hair curling wildly around his ears and forehead. "No luck, darlin'. Think your engine's shot."

You felt your face crumple, any hope you'd had now crushed. It was four-something in the morning. Where were you going to get a ride home let alone a tow truck? And then how were you going to pay for it all?

"You gonna be okay?"

His words shook you out of your reverie. Your chest felt cold and numb ... the beginnings of a panic attack starting to take hold. "I just ... I don't know what I'm gonna..." You clenched your hands, freezing and trembling, and inhaled shakily.

"Listen," he said after a few moments, glancing up at the sky. "It's real shitty out, if you'll pardon my French, an' I don't feel right leavin' you all alone out here..." He sighed, almost grimacing. "You want a ride? I can getcha home, you can rest an' make your phone calls in the mornin'."

Getting into a stranger's car ... it was the most stereotypical thing in the world, but you didn't see any way you could turn down the offer. He seemed nice enough, and if it came down to it, you could run if not defend yourself...

At this point, you'd risk anything to be somewhere warm and cozy instead of in this stupid, freezing parking lot.

"I don't want to ... inconvenience you," you said weakly.

"It's no bother." His smile tightened a bit. "I'd rather you say yes or no so I can get out of this downpour."

You slipped out of your car, shutting and locking it behind you. Hopefully it would be alright for the night. "As long as you don't mind, mister."

The man simply smirked in response, slamming your hood and heading for his truck. It was a beat-up Chevy in dire need of a paint job, but it was running, which was more than you could say for your own vehicle. He opened the passenger side door, then shut it behind you, hurrying himself out of the rain. The pickup's vintage interior smelled faintly of cigarettes as you slid into place, buckling in.

He swore softly as he climbed in beside you and started the truck. Heat blasted through the air vents, and you relaxed a little. It smelled musty and old in here, but the engine sounded good, and whatever problems there were were easily smoothed over by the handsome company and the rock droning from the radio.

"Name's Bo, by the way." He spared you a smile as he backed out of his parking space. "Only fair you know mine since I know yours." When you balked, he laughed. "Your name tag, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Duh."

The man—Bo—took it in stride. "You must be beat as hell, shift like that. Betcha can't wait to get home and curl up in bed."

"Yeah," you replied, giggling awkwardly.

Bo smiled. God, he was so pretty. "Don't blame ya. I'm dog tired myself. Do just about anything for a drink and a soft bed right now." A chuckle. "Guess I'll just have to settle for a beer and a motel mattress."

Again, you giggled awkwardly.

On the other hand, he wasn't awkward at all. In fact, he seemed perfectly comfortable carrying the conversation, as if he'd gotten the script before you and rehearsed his lines a thousand times. "So where'm I headed?"

"Oh, uh, take the next exit..."

You continued to navigate for him, but you were working from memory, your eyes barely on the road. You couldn't help but watch his hands as he maneuvered the truck. They looked strong and warm, with fine hairs near his wrist, and on his right hand, a signet ring glistened in the low light. When he stroked and squeezed the steering wheel, his muscles and skin shifted beautifully over his knuckles.

You kinda wished you were that steering wheel.

Eventually, the truck pulled up to your apartment building, engine purring as it idled. "This the one?"

"Yeah." You clutched your things closer and smiled over at Bo. "Thank you for this. Really, I don't know what..."

You'd been about to say I don't know what I can do to repay you, but the state he was in, it wasn't hard to guess what he needed. Not only was he drenched, but he looked half-dead with exhaustion despite that easy smile of his.

Even as you opened your mouth, you knew this was a crazy idea.

"Do you ... want to come in for a minute? I can at least get you a towel, um, and maybe some cash for taking you out of your way."

Bo paused. He had an expressive face—you could see him weighing his options. "What the hell," he sighed, giving a tight white-guy smile before cutting the engine. "Sure."

Your heart leapt. You had half expected him to turn you down out of politeness, but you supposed you had inconvenienced him. Excitement mixed with terror at the thought of having this man—a stranger—in your apartment. Alone with you.

But it was a little too late to back out now. You slipped out of the truck and led him quickly up the front steps, then the interior stairs to your apartment. As always, your building smelled like Second Floor's cats and First Floor's cheap weed. Bo only stood behind you, hat in his hand, nice and polite as he waited for you to unlock your door.

"Home sweet home," you said, laughing awkwardly as you stepped in.

Bo gave a cursory glance around the place but didn't seem to feel one way or the other about your decor, simply smiling at you. He sure did know how to make people feel at ease. This almost didn't feel like an insanely stupid idea.

"Make yourself at home. I'll go get a towel. Um, and I can get you a drink. What do you like?"

"I'm not fussy, but I'll take whiskey if you have it."

Your place was so small, you were able to carry on the conversation while you hurried to the bathroom and grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet. "I think one of my friends left some behind the last time she was over. Wild Turkey? It's bourbon?"

"That'll do." When you brought him the towel, he gave you one of those dazzling grins in return. "Much obliged, darlin'."

God, you just wanted to stand there and take him in while he toweled himself off, but you forced yourself not to, instead going into the small kitchen and fetching the whiskey. You weren't much of a drinker yourself, but you'd seen your friends drink plenty, so you poured a couple fingers in a wide glass and brought it out. He had already made himself quite comfortable on your couch, leaned back, legs spread, arm across the back of it.

"I hope it's not irresponsible of me to give you a drink when you're gonna be driving," you said as you handed him the whiskey.

He chuckled. "Don't you worry about me. I've pro'lly driven worse off a thousand times." He threw it back in one go, and you watched his slightly stubbly throat bob as he swallowed smoothly. He practically moaned, "That's it," before wiping his mouth. Looking you up and down, "None for you, sugar?"

It took you a moment to find your voice. "I don't really drink much. Tastes like paint thinner to me."

That drew a laugh from him. "Sacrilege." Then a hum. "You don't have to stand there, y'know. It is your house."

Sitting next to him would mean his arm was practically wrapped around your shoulder. An edge of wariness was beginning to press against your thundering heart. This was such a terrible idea, for so many different reasons.

You approached slowly, lingering before him. The way he looked up at you through his lashes, body sunk into your couch, nearly made your mouth water. He lifted his glass slightly. "Think I'm good for one more ... if ya don't mind."

***

Part 2

Masterlist

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher imagine #bo sinclair imagine #written

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whitexwingedxdoves · 3 years ago

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seven wonders [request]

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Young Reader Song: Indigo Night – Tamino | Requested by @sweatywildpanda Warnings: Language, FLUFF Summary: You had never met someone quite like Daryl Dixon before, his outlook on life seemed bleak and you made it your job to show him not everything in life is as sad as he made it out to be. A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST but also thank you for making me obsessed with a new song! I hope you all like it! – Requests are open!

You had been watching your friend throw herself on her new boyfriend Steven all night, every time she did you seemed to tip back the bottle of vodka that you coddled for most of the night so far. You were promised a party and so far you got a fire in a trailer park with about 5 guys, all far to obsessed with themselves to hold a conversation of any sort of meaning but it was almost like the god’s had heard your desperate plea as just as you gave up any hopes of a good evening, two men showed up... one was a little older than you but the other seemed around your ages and immediately caught your eye.

You ignored the interaction between Steven and the older boy and kept your eye firmly on the other, other than the obvious good lucks, he intrigued you, the way his slightly shaggy hair seemed to go unwashed, the way he held his shoulders as if the world laid on them heavily, slightly broody in the face as he watched in the interaction between the man he arrived with and your best friends boyfriend. His eyes scanned the rest of the circle before landing on you, taken back by the fact you were already looking at him, you offered him a warm smile not sure if it was the flicker of the fire or if the boy had a slight red glow to them as a result of your gesture. He looked away quickly but you couldn’t keep your eyes off him as you watched him walk away from the circle and plant himself under an old tree, fiddling with his fingers.

After yet another drink of the vodka, you pushed yourself from the chair and headed in his direction, thinking about the way your friends told you how annoyingly open you were when it came to meeting new people, joking how one day you’ll stumble upon your death because of how outgoing you had become. The thought made you laugh a little as you approached the mysterious man, his eyes slowly scanning your body before he met your smile once more. “This seat taken?” you joked, pointing to the spot beside him. He offered nothing but a shake of his head and you took that as your cue to sit down. “Im Y/N by the way” shifting into a more comfortable position, you offered your hand to the boy, hoping to put a name to his face.

“Daryl” he grunted, ignoring your hand. Your heart seemed to flutter at the bass of his voice, taken back by how masculine he sounded, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Nice to meet you, Daryl” you spoke softly before leaning against the tree, letting out a small sigh. “What brings you here?” you could tell your presence threw him off guard, possibly annoying him with how you just wouldn’t let the silence settle.

“M’ brother” he answered, a little defeated pointing in the direction of the man he came here with. You glanced over at him and watched how he held himself with cocky arrogance, your eyes rolling as he dramatically threw his hands in the air, telling some bullshit story to make the boys that gathered there laugh. “You?” you allowed a small smile pass your lips as he attempted to seem interested in your story, like you were his.

“I’m third wheeling!” you joked, pointing in the direction of your friend who remained on Steven’s lap, you could have sworn you heard the man scoff in amusement but you weren’t entirely sure. “She has Steven, I have cheap vodka!” you joke further but heard nothing from the man as he allowed his head to drop back to the hem of his shirt.

It stayed quiet for a moment as you drank back some more of the alcohol, almost emptying your bottle but the quiet was too awkward for you, you shifted slightly to face Daryl a little more, his gaze not leaving the button he started to pull at on his flannel. “You ever heard of the seven wonders?” you asked him with far too much enthusiasm, recalling back to a conversation you had with your mother about the subject, the one that made you utterly obsessed with the idea of seeing them all. You caught his confused gaze as he ever so slightly lifted his head in your direction, his eyes not leaving that stupid button. “Really? They’re like the most beautiful sights in the world” you gushed, your hands telling a story “ The great wall of China, the great pyramid of Giza?” A sigh leaving your lips at his silence, you shook your head ignoring his look “That’s what I wanna do, I wanna get out of here and travel, see the Seven wonders of the world!” your voice fell soft thinking about your dream, your eyes darting from star to star as you imagined yourself standing in front of the obnoxiously large Jesus statue in Brazil.

“Travellin’ aint all that” he muttered under his breath but it was loud enough to catch your attention.

“You travel a lot?” you questioned tilting your head slightly to capture more of his expression. Daryl just hummed in your direction, slowly nodding his head. “Must have seen a lot of beautiful places” you added, your interest fully peaking knowing he had seen much more of the world than you had.

“Ye’ don’t mean nothin’ though. Not when the world is full of shit!” he spat back at you, confirming his annoyance. You were taken back a little by his words, shaking your head disagreeing with him.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” his eyes met yours when you spoke, ready to bite back at you as to why he was in fact right but you cut him off “The world isn’t shit, it's the people in it.” The words fell out of your mouth almost too easily, like you had experienced your words first hand without seeing what the world had to offer you. He thought about how naïve to the real world you seemed but he couldn’t bring himself to break your perfect vision of the world, he figured you would figure that out on your own one day.

“So wha’ makes em wonders?” redirecting the conversation to avoid breaking your heart, his eyes finally allowing him to get a good look at you, you seemed to sway with the wind the strands of hair that fell from the poorly executed bun danced with you. He took note of the way your legs seemed to be scuffed with the dirt you sat on, thinking how dirty your dress might look once you stand up. He found it odd that you paired such a delicate dress with such stocky boots yet he liked it, it confused him for a moment, never really caring for fashion but he liked the way it looked on you. Finally he noticed the way your eyes seemed to drink up the light of the moon as you stared aimlessly into the sky, being careful not to be caught under your gaze. You laughed a little at his question, like he had fallen right into your trap. There was nothing more you loved to talk about.

“Well, they’re old right, so how people managed to build such magnificent statues back then is insane, like impossible insane! We now, would need machines and technology that just seemed like black magic back then!'' Anyone could hear the passion in your tone as you bragged about these ancient monuments, it almost made Daryl forget about the bad he had seen in the world and allowed himself to see the world through your eyes.

You watched the light in Daryl’s eyes flicker out as he came back to his dull reality, it made your heart sink a little before an idea sprung into your mind, like it was your mission to change this man’s outlook on life. You reached out for his hand and though he flinched when you touched him, he didn’t pull away instead he allowed you to guide him to his feet and drag him away and towards a small hill that surrounded the trailer park. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice how rough his hands were. You thought he was far too young to have such calloused hands; no man in their early 20’s should have such aged hands. You didn’t let it distract you too much as you continued to tug on his arm to make him walk a little faster as you walked up the hill, finally you let go of his hands once you reached the top, a satisfied sigh signalling the end of your journey. You sat down on a patch of grass and patted the patch next to you, signalling Daryl to sit beside you. He just sighed at your demand but obeyed his orders and slummed himself down next to you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out.

His eyes followed yours, settling on the view that the hill provided, a body of water seemingly flowing perfectly still and the light of the moon reflected right on its base as the grass and water weeds surrounding it played with the wind. “If the world was so shit, we wouldn’t have this” you whispered, not really caring if Daryl heard you or not, only saying it for your own peace of mind. He remained silent as he took in every detail of the scene, his bleak view on the world gaining some colour the more he watched. He broke his concentration to take in your expression, wondering if it matched his, it didn't it looked so much more peaceful, like you had found where you belong in the world, like everything ever made sense. Daryl looked over his shoulder the sight of you seemed to be overwhelming, it was only then that he acknowledged the fact you had chosen to sit with him and not partake in the group ‘fun.

“why ya wastin’ ya time wi me? Any one of those guys would break their back just to hear ya talkin bout this shit” you scoffed at his question, your eyes fallen onto him now with an amused smirk creasing your lips.

“The world is full of pricks like them. It’s not every day you get to meet guy’s like you.” It was like his heart had skipped valuable beats when you spoke, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat.

“Na’ I ain’t worth ya time!” His words were shaky as he tried to leave your gaze but you never let him, your hand resting on his leg as you did.

“No, you're worth more” you whispered before your eyes wandered back to the view you sat before.

He wasn’t sure how he let a complete stranger come into his life and completely flip the way he saw the world but he was glad he did. He sat up a little, now crossing his legs hoping not to disturb the way you hand laid on his thigh teasing himself with the thought of placing his hand over yours and eventually he bit the bullet and did just that, his eyes now following the ripples of the water finding it fitting as he felt ripples of warmth flowing through his blood stream as he held onto your hand.

He sure as hell liked seeing the world through your eyes.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl dixon

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nyctospoilers · 2 years ago

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KHDR Reactions

Episode 7: Reason for Disappearance

WHY would you take him through the CORRIDORS of DARKNESS, XEHANORT??? He’s not even fucking reacting to the “pushes” of darkness because his heart just got shattered, that poor boy.

okay 65 years later…

^ THE BLUE ROBE GUY

“My mentor taught me the one inscribed in the book, chosen to be a dark vessel, can connect their heart to others and feel what the feel” okay 1. “Omg he’s such an empath” but seriously 2. I wonder if this connects to what Darkness said about Ventus, and how through him all of them can like… regain themselves?? I think it said. Either their wills or their forms, I can’t remember. But interesting…

“I must embrace these emotions. Let them flow into my heart” oh lmao I thought Xehanort was referring to Ventus, is he talking about himself?? Or a combination of the two because in the BBS reports, Xehanort wanted Ventus to be his vessel at first, but decided he was too weak so he changed his mind to Terra.

^ OH MY GOODDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. SHUT UPPPPPPPP. I’M SO GLAD I WAS WRONG ABOUT THIS BINGOOO LMAO. THIS GAME FUCKING DELIVEREDDDDD. I thought it would cut away before they came on screen tbh LOL. Oh well it kinda did but still LOL

Eraqus “Better late than never” that says so much LOL

“Water under the bridge” Xehanort 🥺 Eraqus is so fucking gay 4 U

Xehanort “I took him under my wing this past year” okay noted

“He might be the one” “Are you sure?” 👀 yes computer enhance

^ okay this is fucking funny

Reason for Disappearance

Okay, I’ll just say it. I can’t tell if Eraqus and Vor are just friends (because I fucking love platonic relationships between men and women), or if this is a developer’s decision to make us acknowledge that no, Eraqus and Xehanort are not gay lmao. Shipping mindset and “okay what’s really going on at this Disney ruled IP team” are two different mindsets for me. That being said, I really do like the friendship between Eraqus and Vor LOL

“How do we defeat something like that?” okay that lingering into a scene transition is so sexy

Odin calling the vessels for darkness “A necessary sacrifice” oh boy here we go

Okay so I feeeeel like everything Odin said here, we already knew. 7 hearts of light. summoning KH and using it’s power affects the entire world– so is it worth using KH if just to save the few “vessels of darkness” who are sacrifices?

“The dark seeker will finally be upon us” yeeess yesssssss

Aww Hermod!

ERAQUS JOGGING IN PLACE LOL

THE UNDERWORLLDDDD (((also damn… does that mean the other classmates really did die…)))

^ THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNYYYYYYY. I swear to god if I un-blacklist this game, and nobody else thinks this game is funny, I will be so mad LOL

Awwww Hoder…. :(

Not MALEFICENT!!!!

God Hoder’s dress is so pretty

^ AARON PAUL SCREME MEME

Daaaaaaamn dudeeeee fuckkkkkkk

HE WAS IN THE INFIRMARY THIS WHOLE TIME????

God am I going to get Phil talking to Xehanort…..

^ Dumbass shdkdhkdjd

Bragi “if I choose Eraqus, you’ll tag along, right Xehanort?” HA!

THE WAY XEHANORT MOVED AWAY FROM ERAQUS LMAAOOO

Jesus christ they are fucking DIGGING at eraqus asdlkfjasdf

Yesss I looove the underworld music, its one of my favorite world themes LOL

Hades “Disappeared? Oh right, Mortals. Always have to sugarcoat everything. Personally, I prefer ‘dead.’” STOP LMAAAOOOO

Ugh cerberus is going to be so hard I know it… I’m going to use so many revives… JUST KIDDING I only needed 1 lmao

The hand grab 💞⭐🤸💫 You fucking know xehanort was doing some Mr. Darcy-hand-stretch after that

^ Damn the upper classmates really did die… NOOOOO NOT THE SIDE PONYTAIL GIRRRLLLL 😭😭😭

“We discovered an evil fairy that put a curse on a princess” so when the FUCK. do these disney worlds take place!!!!! Cause Aurora was during BbS!!! Wtf!!!!

^SHUT THE FUCK UP THEY SET UP CAMP AND ARE ASLEEP. SHUT UPPPP

u tellin’ me a 14 year old noob defeated maleficent when 4 trained students could not…

OOOHHHH So the Underworld IS connected to the final world. Okay, I’m glad that’s cleared up for me now.

Damn c’mon, philosophy!

Hades “pfft like I can tell who’s who” LMAO

NOOO HERMOD AND URDDD

Wtf is this light… OH ITS ODIN. that is so gandalf of him to glow like that LOL. c'mon, light of earendil!

“So only you remain…” damn… so did.. Baldr and Bragi die off screen???

65 years later

^HEY BITCH!!!!

Xehanort “I did this for him, not you.” oh dayumn

^ Why does vanitas stand like 🧍‍♂️

Godddd I am DYING to know why Ventus has a heart of pure light (like PURE pure light) if he isnt a Princess of Heart!!!

He DOES remember ventus. Then Xehanort WTF!!! Why did you like.. Practically torture him asdlfkjsdf

#reactions

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years ago

Note

how about a thing where beej goes camping with Lydia or also with adam and Barbara and they all try to tell the scariest stories they can? guess who.

this one got away from me but it was super fun. thanks........ blake? guessing is harder than i thought

"And they were never, ever, seen again," Adam finishes, the flashlight under his chin casting his features in a harsh, strange light.

"Thank god," BJ says, with a snort. "I know, right? Couldn't have chosen a better group of assholes to go missing," Lydia grins.

The late night summer air is keeping them relatively cool, and the fire Adam, the literal boy scout, built for them isn't too high. It's got just enough life in it to heat up a few s'mores. BJ sticks his impaled marshmallow into the flame, and watches as it sets on fire, going from gently roasted to disgustingly burnt in a moment. He lifts it, blows it off, and then, ignoring the pain of touching the molten black sugar, peels the burnt skin off, and eats it, before putting the skinned and oozing marshmallow back in the fire, to repeat the process.

Barbara, who has been watching the process, giggles at him.

"Come on, you guys," Adam frowns. "That's my best one. It got me my storytelling badge!"

"You can't get them, Adam," Barbara says, simply, and when BJ lifts his charred marshmallow and peels the skin off, this time, she plucks it from his fingers, and eats it instead. She grimaces at the taste of burnt sugar. "Nothing scares the horror twins," she finishes, giving BJ an apologetic peck on the cheek for stealing his snack, and he puts an arm around her, and then presses his mouth to her ear.

"That's right," he growls, right into her ear, and she squeals, and pushes him away, laughing. "Me an' Lyds are old pros at scary stories. You guys don't stand a chance."

"So why don't you tell one?" Adam huffs, a little irritated, and normally, he'd feel bad for being the cause of it... But all's fair in love, war, and campfire tales.

He looks down to Lydia, and she stares up at him, chocolate and graham cracker smeared at the corners of her mouth. "What do you think? The Cannibal one?"

"M'tryna scare them, not make em vomit up their marshmallows," BJ laughs. "Maybe th' shoppin' mall one? Ya know, with th'-"

"The corpse fountain, yeah. I dunno.. that one's a little long."

The siblings are stuck considering, for a moment, as Barbara and Adam seem to grow more weary and agitated.

"Oh," BJ snaps his fingers, suddenly, startling his paramores, who both jump, just a little. "I got it. The Shambler."

"Ooooh," Lydia breaths. "The Shambler. Is that one.. safe, to tell?" she drops her voice, into a whisper.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Adam asks, and BJ hides his smile. The story's already begun.

"Well, because of what happened," Lydia says, like it's obvious.

"What happened?" Barbara's hooked, now, leaning forward, to look at the little girl from across the fire.

"Are you serious?" he plays into it, looking from Adam and Barbara like he can't believe they haven't heard. "Jesus, you guys, it was a real life horror show. Okay.. Around 1970 somethin', all these campers start to go missin'. Th' cops go to investigate, an' from th' woods, they keep hearin' this awful moanin' noise. They get to th' campground, an' all th' tents are just... empty. Like all these people just stood up in th' middle of th' night an' walked away, an' just never came back."

"They only found noses," Lydia says, which is a new detail, and he rolls with it. "Th' cops figured th' person-"

"Or thing," Lydia says, voice low.

"Musta been eatin' th' bodies, an' couldn't figure out how to cook up noses."

"I had hoped this wasn't a cannibal story," Barbara says, glumly, and Adam's brow furrows. "There's no way this happened."

"An' why's that?"

"Because I would have heard of it. This is classic campfire story hyperbole."

"I'll hyper your bole, Sexy."

"Anyways," Lydia drags them back on track. "It's probably a good thing you're not buying it. We can just stop telling you about the whole thing. That's safer, for everyone."

"Oh, and why's that?" Adam smiles, amused. "Because talking about it makes the Shambler come?"

He's skipped a few narrative beats, but that's the basic gist, yes.

"Don't say that name so loudly," BJ admonishes him.

"Oh, come on! I thought you guys were horror masters, this is just a retelling of a retelling of a copy!"

"Adam, seriously-" Lydia sells it, looking agitated.

"Shambler, Shambler, Shambler!" Adam challenges.

The bushes behind them rustle. Barbara jumps, and Adam turns, and squints into the darkness. "Probably just a squirrel."

"Sounded bigger than that," Barbara says, softly, almost like she's in on it. God, what a perfect audience member she makes.

Adam stands, and Barbara and BJ follow, only pausing when the bushes rustle again, and a guttural, low groan echoes around them. Whether he knows he's done it or not, Adam takes a step closer to the two of them, and a slight step away from the bushes. "... Okay, that.. That, uh.."

The rustling is on the other side of them, now, and they all three whip their heads around, as the moaning noises grow louder, and louder, closer and closer.

"Adam," Lydia whispers in horror, from the campfire, blood oozing from her mouth. "What.. what did you do?"

She drops, and Barbara lets out a scream, horrified, and both teens go rushing to Lydia's side-

And that's when BJ grabs them both around the shoulders, and gives them a shake. "BOO~!"

The two of them jump a mile high, and turn to look at him, glares on both their faces, as he doubles over, laughing. Lydia, from the dirt, rolls over, laughing too, fake blood still oozing down her mouth and down her chin.

"You guys, come on, that was too easy!" BJ barely manages. "Fake blood capsules," Lydia grins up at their confused faces.

The horror twins are pelted with marshmallows.

#my writing #answered asks #beetlejuice fic #beetlelands fic #goldenbeetle fic #lydia deetz #beetlejuice #burnt marshmallows are the only good marshmallows this is a hill i will die on

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

----------------------------------------------------------

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

-----------------------------------------------

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

#meet ugly #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #indruck #sternclay #inclay #autistic Indrid #trans duck newton #trans agent stern #reader request #duck newton/agent stern

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lesdemonium · 4 years ago

Text

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased.

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.”

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show.

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt’s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back.

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed.

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand.

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble. “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #gerlion #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #geraskier au #geraskier modern au #my writing #romtober #pls reblog this like #i'm so freaking proud of it lmao

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

❛ DOUBLE DATE? ❜

with Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes.

Request: This isn’t a Nestor one but how about one where I am friends with the guys in the MC I like EZ but I know he is hung up on Emily. I get a new best friend from work and talk about him all the time (he is gay) and EZ starts getting jealous and flips when I bring him with me to a club party. Ez gets angrier and angrier because we are hanging out dancing etc until bff husband comes to pick him up back early from a business trip.

BY @cherieann-2001

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.3k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Why don't you have a date with him?”

The question makes you drown with a sip from your beer, frowning at EZ in front of you, inside the Mayans bar.

“Bring him tonight to the party”.

Narrowing your eyes, you notice the jealousy in his voice, raising your chin with a proud gesture. Nodding then, you take your phone to write to your partner in crime. He will be delighted to help you to make EZ's jealous stay at float.

You have chosen your best dress. A short one, over your knees, with fine stripes and a squared but pronounced neckline. Black, like your chunky heels. You're stunning, with your hair falling behind your shoulders and a light make up on point. Spreading on your neck the Hugo Boss perfume, you have a last look in the mirror. Simply perfect. Hearing the claxons sounding outside, you know that your best friend is already there.

Reaching the crowded yard, with a high five before joining the party, you walk through it holding his right arms with yours. Ezekiel didn't think that you could be capable of bringing him, but at least he knows how to behave, narrowing his hand as soon as your co-worker offers to him. And then, after introducing him to the crew, you walk to the bar to grab some beers. The mischief has begun.

You two dance too close. So close that there isn't any distance between both, drinking from the same bottle, laughing and feigning that you are flirting. What EZ doesn't know is the fact that your best friend is gay, and married. And even if you only have one hour to make him feel jealous, until he recognizes his feelings for you, it's more than enough. After this time, your friend has to drive to the airport in San Diego to pick up his husband, from a plane from New York where he has been attending a seminar.

Sideways, you can see Ezekiel serving drinks to the other Mayans, but feeling the burn inside his veins believing he has lost the boat straight to you. And you feel somewhat bad, but you have been throwing him indirects about what you feel for too long. So, this is the last option you have. And when you think that the plan can't work better, your partner in crime has a new idea.

“Ezekiel, right?” He asks walking towards the bar, leaning over it, while you feign to be talking with Coco. He knows what you are doing. “Give one more beer, please”.

He nods in silence, not falling into his taunting.

“She is beautiful, don't you think? Like an angel”. Your friend says then, trying to tease him.

“Yeah, she is”.

“I hope she's not single for much longer, you know what I mean”.

“Yeah, and I hope you don't hurt her”.

“Me? I couldn't, big guy”. He laughs, grabbing the drink, to give him his back.

Your friend blinks you an eye, putting an arm over your shoulders.

“Job done, sweetheart. I have to go, but, call me tomorrow if you're still alive. Did you see the size of his arms?”

Kissing the tip of your nose, he pokes it before leaving you there with Coco.

“Mami, you're gonna burn into hell”.

“Yes, probably. Who knows?”

The next part of the plan, and the final one, is play the innocent card. Ezekiel is pretty smart, but so predictable. Putting your dress on well, you go into the clubhouse. Your heels lead the way to the bathroom, getting locked inside it to retouch your makeup, taking your time. You're not in a hurry. Checking some emails on your phone, you try to desperate the prospect at the other side of the door. Being conscious that he is already waiting for an explanation. Keeping your stuff in the small bag, to hang it from a shoulder, you are about to walk outside of the bathroom when you almost collide with him.

“Jesus Christ, Zeke… You scared me!” That was a bad line, but effective.

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that”.

“Need something, ah?”

“Why the hell you brought your fuck boy to the party?”

“Sorry…?”

He doesn't repeat it again. Crossing your arms over your chest, you frown.

“You told me to bring him”.

“I wasn't being serious”.

“Why you care?”

“Mayans business, maybe? Do you think this is a disco club?”

Rolling your eyes, you place a hand on his abdomen to push him away, not letting him see that you're winning the game.

“Don't be a dick, Zeke. That's your brother's shit”.

“You are being a dick, not me. Bringing… this fucking guy here. What were you pretending?”

“Have a date?”

“With that guy? Nah. You're fucking kidding me. That's not your type”.

“Oh, wait. I didn't know that you know my type more than I do. Surprise me, oh, voice of wisdom”.

He doesn't reply, frowning and placing his hands on the folds of his kutte.

“Yeah, that's what I thought”.

Giving him your back, you continue checking your mails on your phone, while crossing the hallway to the living room of the clubhouse.

“I like you”. His voice sounds like a shy whisper, but the fact is that he has his eyes fixed on you. “You're not like… these girls walking around here all the time. You… are intelligent, you have… ambitions, inquisitiveness. And shit… Shit, you smell so good. Is like I have your smell stuck in my fucking lungs the whole day, just with smelling it once”.

His puppy eyes are melting your heart, seeing how he feels so miserable thinking he has lost you because of his incapacity of talking about the feelings he has for you.

“He looks like a good guy, but… if one day you need someone to break his legs, just call me”.

That makes you laugh, even if he's talking seriously. Taking some steps next to him, with your hands tangled behind your back, you lean forward a little.

“Do you wanna know something?” Waiting him for a nod, you take another step. “He is gay. And he's also happily married to another of my best friends”.

“Tell me you didn't play the fucking game of pu—”.

“I did, Zeke. See? You're not the smartest in this clubhouse”.

“So you ar—”.

“No, he's just my friend. But I was serious with the part of having a date. But my date is still working, so I have to wait for him”.

He just chuckles, with that kind of smile that could stop a damn world war.

“We're not having a date”. He says then, coming closer to you.

“Aren't we?”

“Not tonight. I don't want our first date to happen here”.

“Aw, look at you… The romantic Reyes”.

“More than my brother? Yeah”. He laughs this time, surrounding you with both arms as you place your hands on his chest. “If I see you again dancing too close with anyone, I'm gonna burn down this place”.

“That doesn't sound too bad… You will finish working sooner, then”.

Before you can continue talking, his lips are already pressing your with a gentle and lovely gesture, that gives you some nice chills down to your backbone. Raising your fingers to the back of his head, you deep your tongue in his mouth, to fight his, but taking your time to enjoy a kiss that you have been desiring for too long.

“Hey, boy sco—OH, SHIT, FINALLY”.

Turning at Angel, you find him freaking out. Hands on top of his head, widened eyes and his mouth dropping to the floor.

“DAMN, I THOUGHT IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN”.

Now his hands go to cover his mouth, hiding a proud smile and making you laugh.

“Nah, whatever, I cover your ass at the bar”.

“Yeah, give me just two minutes more”.

He leaves you walking backwards, facing you and making some dirty gestures with his fingers, before pointing at his brother's arms to highlight their size.

“ANGEL!” You yell laughing, trying to hide against EZ's chest.

✨ Tag list:

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#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayans x reader #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader

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rick-potion-no9 · 4 years ago

Text

“I broke your nose in a mosh pit”

Flesh Curtains Rick X Reader (1880 words)

It was in between sets so, in the little space you had around you, you were on your phone, scrolling through twitter to see if any of your mutuals were here as well. You had always sort of preferred going to shows alone, not having to worry about losing your friends in the crowd and being able to make as much of a fool of yourself singing and dancing to the music as you wanted.

“Excuse me, s-s-sorry, sorry ex-excuse me my friend’s just uhhh little bit further up,” you heard a man speak over the music the venue was playing as everyone waited, leaving a trail of sighs and light complaints behind him. He made his way up next to you and you moved to get out of his way, which was a few inches tops given everyone’s proximity to one another, but the people in front of you weren’t budging. Understandably so, as you were pretty close to the barrier and probably wouldn’t give up the space in front of you for someone as tall as he was either. He quit trying after a few more “ex-excuse me”s and settled into the space beside you.

You glanced up and gave him a hey, just to be polite. “Hi. Rick Sanchez,” he greeted you with a nod. You recognized him as the bassist of one of the openers, Flesh Curtains. The name had made you laugh when they were on stage. He towered above you, long blue hair slicked back with a black choker around his neck and wearing the lowest cut tank top and tightest jeans you had seen tonight. He smelled like vodka, not that you minded, half the people here did. Hell, you probably did, too.

“Y/N. Your set was really good! Got everyone moving around,” you looked back up. There was a certain darkness to his eyes that caught you off guard, but you shook it off. He mumbled a thank you and offered a smile. He was probably tired or drunk, or both, but you appreciated that he wanted to be in the crowd for the next set anyway.

The lights darkened and the crowd surged forward, any free space you had gone, forcing the two of you shoulder to shoulder. You let out a yelp and a giggle as the screams of everyone around you filled the air. Upon realizing you were elbowing Rick in the stomach, you apologized and he rested his arm on your shoulder, giving the both of you a little more wiggle room. If this had been anywhere else you probably would’ve told him off for it, but you were never a stickler for personal space at shows, the random contact with strangers making you feel all the more present and you appreciated the momentary, random bonding experience of it.

It was the last song, and Rick had proven himself to be a good concert neighbor, his height helping to shield you from crowd surfers and he always gave you room to get in and out pits as they opened, but surprisingly never participating.

You lost him a few songs ago, but as a pit opened in the back and two walls started forming, you spotted him a few people down and across from you. You caught his eye and gave him a smile just as the music dropped and you ran with everyone else. After bouncing around the mosh pit for a while you saw Rick again. Feeling playful and bold enough, you went up to shove into him from behind.

Bad choice. He swung his arm back as soon as you got close, elbow crashing directly into your nose. “FUCK!” Blood was pouring down your face and you stood still in shock for a few seconds. As soon as he noticed the blood on his arm, Rick turned around, “F-FUCK!”

He ushered you into his small ship parked behind the venue, hurrying to get you to urgent care, despite your protests that you could handle yourself. “I-I’m scared you’re gonna pass out or something j-jesus that’s a lot of blood.”

“I didn’t peg you for the squeamish type,” you poked fun despite getting a little light headed. He had a point.

“I see this much blood before breakfast, s-sweetie,” you chose not to read too far into that, silently hoping to yourself you hadn’t gotten into a car with some sort of serial killer. You also chose not to read too far into the “sweetie”, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

The waiting room of the urgent care was quiet as the clock ticked towards midnight. They had given you some ice and a clean towel for the blood, and you stared up at the muted tv above you as you tried to keep your head tilted back.

“I c-cannot stand these home improvement shows,” Rick piped up from the chair next to you. Despite telling him you were alright about 100 times, he insisted on staying to take you back to the venue after so you could get your car. You didn’t want to be a bother, but it sure beat getting in an Uber alone with some stranger. Well, Rick was still a stranger, but you were warming up to each other a little.

“The Property Brothers aren’t doing it for you, huh?” You figured you’d get some conversation going instead of just sitting in silence.

“T-there’s just so m-much more to life than cheap backsplashes,” he rolled his eyes, “there’s a whole universe of new dimensions a-and other planets, and t-these people care about color schemes. You should see interdimensional cable.”

“You travel a lot then? For the band or for fun?”

“B-bit of both, I guess. Don’t really have anyone to travel with outside the band, th-the trips get long,” He fidgeted with the armrest of his chair as he spoke, staring at it as if it was the most intriguing armrest he had ever seen. His tone was almost nervous, like he was thinking about saying more but hesitant to share it. You understood, no need to pour out any extra emotions to someone you had just met. It made you wonder if you’d see him again after this, if he was just doing you a favor because he felt bad for breaking your nose or if he had some other goal here. You stared at the armrest with him, he had long, slim fingers and the slightest remnants of black polish on his nails. It made you smile to yourself a little, suddenly realising how out of place he looked in this clean, pastel room, HGTv playing above his head and fake flowers on the table to his right.

You rested your elbow on the back of your armrest just under where his was reaching over, trying to give your arm a little break from holding the ice to your nose. You were starting to get tired, this wait seeming like an eternity despite being the only people there. You were worried he’d be missing bus call or something, but he didn’t seem to be making any efforts to check the time.

“Y/L/N,” a nurse called from the door, and your eyes were open before you could even process that you had fallen asleep. You picked your head up and looked around for a second, feeling yourself fill with embarrassment as you realised you had fallen asleep on Rick’s shoulder. You whispered a quick apology to him and stood, following the nurse through the door as you went over what had happened.

Rick stood up as you came back out of the exit door, and if you weren’t mistaken there was almost some concern in his eyes. “So the good news is you didn’t break my nose. Bad news is it’ll probably hurt for a while but you’re officially off the hook,” you giggled at him as he looked relieved and you walked back to his ship.

“So me being off the hook is the b-bad news then?” he smirked, turning to look down at you and your swollen nose.

“You’re not such bad company, Sanchez.”

“You’re not bad company yourself, Y/N,” he eyed you up and down for a second, pausing as if he wanted to say more again. You both climbed into your seats and took off back towards the venue. “You know, I-I’d say I actually improved your face,” he teased after a few minutes of silence. It earned him a smack to the arm.

“That so? You wanna get your face improved, too?

“I’d love to see you try, s-sweetheart,” he was kidding, but you took a little offense.

“I can hold my own. I took an elbow to the nose without a single tear,” you looked over at him and smiled a little, not sure if you were trying to impress him or make him feel a little guilty again.

“T-that you did. You might be a little tougher than you look,” he reached over to give you a little pat of approval on the knee, but you didn’t complain when his hand stayed there, moving up a little until it was resting on your thigh. You started to admire the black band around his middle finger until he cleared his throat and took his hand back, “I uh, I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you as he put his hand back on the wheel, and you silenced the whimper you had almost let out at the loss of contact. You honestly weren’t sure why you wanted it to begin with, or why he had chosen to apologize. Aren’t rockstars accustomed to picking up girls from the crowd? It made you a little self conscious until you realised he probably just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.

“You guys come to town often?” You offered, hoping to dissolve the sudden uneasiness that was radiating off of him. He looked confused about the question until he realised you were asking if you’d see him again and his eyes lit back up a little.

“Never been here, might n-never come back,” he shrugged as you pulled into the parking lot. Your heart dropped a little, so sure you had been on the same wavelength all night.

He started a dig around through his glove box until he pulled out a pen, putting out his other hand towards you. You were puzzled for a minute, before putting your hand in his, your hand looked tiny in comparison and it almost made you laugh. He started to write on your hand and it wasn’t until he let go that you realised it was a phone number and you smiled to yourself.

“Let me know if you ever feel l-like going somewhere. I can take you to places a lot more interesting than sh-shitty concert venues,” he still seemed nervous, and as his bandmates piled out of the Flesh Curtains tour bus and started to yell obscene things at Rick after noticing you in the passenger’s seat, you thanked him again for all the help and began the walk back to your own car, reeling over how you just got invited to travel the galaxy with Rick Sanchez.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #rick x reader #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez fanfiction #rick and morty one shots #flesh curtains rick #flesh curtains

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adhdeancas · 4 years ago

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Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.”

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?”

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken.

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.”

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”

“Have fun.”

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents.

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more.

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it.

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all.

It doesn’t look like Cas.

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay.

Castiel is not okay.

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before.

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.”

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!”

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone.

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again.

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man?

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him-

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets.

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place.

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?”

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!”

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death.

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?”

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?”

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.”

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face.

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little.

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.”

Tag list: @dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

#fanfic #my writing #destiel #deancas #15x20 coda #coda #fix it fic #sunset sound #sunset sound: stairway to heaven #runnin' on empty #chapter 1 #dean winchester #ash #castiel #charlie bradbury #bobby singer

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