#this is a few weeks old now i just ran out of content to post

[kat1nkulta]

Forgot to post this terror. Heres your loop slop🥳

This design is a part of a yet unnamed au. If i’m lazy, it will just be ”lost star” or smth to that effect

Graph explaining it a bit vvvv

And if you’ve feel like you’ve seen this ”star life cycle ft. Siffrin” graph before, you haven’t gone crazy, ive posted the shorter one that didnt include any post game shenanigans before as well

[mallowsweetmiri]

Black Bikini • FW x Reader

Part 2 • Strawberry Pie

Summary: You arrive at the burrow for summer break. Fred really likes your new bikini.

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing and smut

18+

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You sat out on the front porch basking in the early morning sun before the afternoon swelter settled in. It was yet another summer at the burrow, and you couldn’t wait to get into all sorts of trouble with your favorite Weasleys. You had known them since you were young, as your dad worked closely with Arthur at the ministry. Once you started at Hogwarts, you quickly became friends with the Weasley twins who were in your year. Ever since then, you often spent a good chunk of your summer at the burrow, playing quidditch or swimming in the lake during the day and staying up late playing chess at night. Just a few weeks ago, you had helped Gryffindor win the quidditch cup, so you knew the quidditch matches would be superb this summer.

“Morning, sunshine!” Fred cheered as he pushed through the front door, running past you and into the yard, George following quick on his heels.

“What are you two up to?” You yelled after them, squinting your eyes as they ran further away and towards the pond.

“YOU BLOODY WANKERS GET BACK HERE AND FIX THIS!”

You whipped your head around to see a very angry Ron standing on the front porch with a fist in the air like an angry old man. His pajamas were a violent shade of pink. You almost spit out your coffee.

“New look?” You choked out, making Ron frown and shake is head.

“You’re just as bad as them,” he grumbled before walking back inside.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you saw the twins walking back to the house with mud all over their hands.

“Its not even noon and you two have already started wreaking havoc, what have you gotten yourselves into now?” You raised a brow at them. As they approached closer, their bodies absolutely loomed over you on the steps. Two identical grins blocked the bright sun from your eyes.

“Just catching some bullfrogs while we waited for Ronnykins to leave the premises,” George grinned.

“That bloke is always angry, what could he possibly be mad about on such a fine day?” Fred inhaled sharply and let out a sigh of contentment as he threw his head back into the sun. A blush rose to your cheeks. You may or may not have begun developing the slightest crush on the older twin.

“Hmm, I wonder. Well, what are we going to do today? I bet Gin would be up for a game, I don’t know if Ron will want to play with you two though,” you chuckled, standing up and brushing the dirt off the back of your shorts. The twins grinned at you.

“How about we go swimming at the lake? We could make a day out of it,” Fred suggested, leaning against the post of the railing.

“Hmm, yeah. We could pack some lunches and games, spend all day in the sun,” George said thoughtfully, pursing his lips to one side.

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go get Ginny up, and maybe you should fix Ronald’s clothes so he’s not in a foul mood all day,” you said, patting George on the shoulder before turning to head inside.

It was around noon by the time everybody got out of the house and started down the path to the lake. The walk wasn’t too long, but it was far enough where Ron could complain and Ginny could convince George to let her ride on his back. The sun beamed down on your backs, beads of sweat forming on your skin, sticky and hot. You guys were practically racing to the shore once you gained view of the water.

“The walk will be worth it!” Fred cheered as he raced ahead to the sand. He recklessly threw his bag onto the ground before pulling off his shirt, saving no time before diving straight into the water. It seemed you’d completely lost interest in walking as the rest of the Weasley children had already reached the shore ahead of you. You didn’t allow your mind to wander any further as you too started running down the hill of sand.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” George shouted, already running into the water. You tore off your t-shirt and shorts, refusing to be the last one into the lake. Ginny had already dove under so it was just you and Ron left. You both began sprinting towards the water, but you laughed as you dove straight in, leaving Ron to be last. The twins left him no time to pout however, as they started to splash and fight with their brother. You and Ginny swam away from the chaos and floated on your backs, enjoying the contrast between the warm sun and the cool lake.

“I’m so glad you’re here again, Y/N,” Ginny said, shifting her position to talk to you better, “I love my brothers but it’s nice to have another girl around. Sometimes I feel like I’m too much like them. I don’t want to be a tomboy, I want to be pretty so boys like me.” She dunked her head back to wet her hair again. A soft smile rose to your face as you listened to her banter.

“Gin, don’t you think you’re a little young to be thinking about boys like that?” You couldn’t help but to laugh a little at her naivety.

“You sound like my brothers,” Ginny scrunched her nose at you.

“All I’m saying is you’re perfect just how you are. You’re smart and funny and anybody would be lucky to know you. Besides, you are nothing like your brothers, you know that,” you reassured her, pointing over her shoulder at her brothers who were currently trying to stick slimy plants onto each others foreheads. Ginny snorted.

“Okay, you have a point, but I just want to be pretty like you, Y/N. Will you teach me how to do my hair and makeup? Please?” Ginny pleaded, putting on her best puppy eyes. You rolled your eyes at her before returning to your smile.

“Gin, I don’t even know how to do all of that. I guess I can show you some stuff, but your too young. I didn’t even start doing any of that stuff until this year,” you huffed. You wished she would appreciate her developing years without worrying about such superficial things. Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as Ginny began to beam and splash around.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! And you’re definitely good at that kind of stuff, Y/N. I mean ever since you started looking all pretty, Fred won’t shut up about you! I’m going to be so popular this year,” Ginny continued on babbling about her upcoming year but you couldn’t seem to focus. Had she just said something about Fred?

“We’re going in to eat! Best to come unless you want us to eat your share,” Ron called as he trudged out of the water. You broke out of your thoughts and hoisted Ginny on your back to head towards the boys. By the time you set Ginny down, the picnic basket had been opened. You sat down on your towel and grabbed a sandwich.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fred’s POV

I guess I hadn’t had time to look at her properly when we got down to the lake, because I hadn’t notice her wearing that tiny black bikini. Merlin, she looked so good this summer. I mean, she’d always been pretty but this was on a whole other level. Her normally cute face had turned into something of a more mature beauty. My eyes left her lips and scanned down a bit further. Her body, Merlin…

“Oi,” George laughed and nudged me. I whipped my head away to face him, being met with raised brows and a downturned smile.

“Mmm,” I grumbled, taking a huge bite of my sandwich. I was not just checking Y/N out. I’m just eating my sandwich. We ate in silence for a little while, hungry and tired from the sun.

“Welp, time for a little afternoon nap,” Y/N sighed, placing a hand on her full belly and lying down on her towel. As her back hit the sand, her chest bounced lightly, her skimpy top moving along with it. Okay, I was totally checking her out.

“I don’t know about you lot, but I’m getting back in the water, it’s far too hot out here,” I declared, standing up with a grunt and heading back into the water. If I didn’t know any better, it would seem that I may be slightly obsessed with my dear friend Y/N.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your POV

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting from the glare of the sun.

“Finally you’re up! I was about to roll you over so you didn’t burn,” Ginny laughed, moving from her seat to look down on you.

“Mm, I’m up now,” you mumbled sleepily, “Shall we go in the water? I’m absolutely frying.” You slowly sat up. Your skin felt slightly tight from baking in the sun.

“I’ll race you!” Ginny chirped, standing up and running to the water. Merlin, that girl had energy. You jogged down to the water and dove under, your skin soothed by the fresh water. As you came back up, you felt something slimy slap against your face.

“Ho! He gotchu good!” George yowled, falling back into the water with a splash. You reached up to grab the slime off of your cheek with your mouth agape, frozen in a wry smile.

“Who did that,” you scoffed, look up at the boys to find your culprit. Fred stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, a satisfied smirk plastered onto his face.

“You.”

You flung the lake slime at him before charging towards him at an impressive speed through the water. As you approached him, you reached down into the water with a devious expression.

“Catch,” you said, lifting up a ginormous ball of slime that had been placed in front of you by what you could only imagine was the hand of god. You flung the mass towards him before he could dodge out of the way. He tried to put his hands up to catch it, but it was no match. The sludge had flown onto his scrunched up face and dripped down his flared out hands. You put your hand on your mouth to stifle your laugh.

“Bloody hell!” Ron hollered, laughing his ass off with George. Fred dunked under the water to get off the slime. When he emerged from the water, he ran his hands through his hair, throwing his head back. You watched as if he was moving in slow motion, the sun glistening on his wet skin as his muscles flexed with the movement of his arms.

“You are so dead.”

And with that he picked you up with ease over his head.

“No! Fred please!” You said between chokes of laughter, but it was no use. He threw you down into the water and splashed you when you came back up to the surface. When he finally stopped you could see his goofy smile form around his sun kissed freckles.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, relaxing back into the water. You couldn’t stop giggling as you swam towards him.

“Sorry Freddie, I had to get you back,” you teased, laying back into the water. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I was away from you for a few weeks and forgot how ruthless you are,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was in high spirits.

“Oh please, how could you forget? Im just happy to be back for the summer, we’re going to get into much more trouble than this,” you giggled. He chuckled at that.

“Oh, I hope so Y/N,” he charmed, standing back up from the water. You looked up at him staring down at you, water dripping down his abs. You found your eyes wondering and forced yourself to look back up to his face. He was smirking down at you. “What are you looking at Y/N?” You practically choked on lake water as you stood up next to him.

“You still have slime on you git,” you brushed him off and went back up to the sand. You heard him laugh behind you as your cheeks flushed a deep red. You really hoped he hadn’t just caught you staring…

The rest of the day was spent roasting in the sun, passing around a quaffle in the water, and eating what was left of the picnic basket. By the time the sun began to set, the five of you set back on the trail to the burrow. You stayed up front with Ginny and Ron as they quarreled about quidditch, Fred and George behind you. The walk back felt long and tiring, and by the time you had reached the burrow, the sun had almost fully set.

“Dinner is ready!” You heard Molly call from the porch. At that, the five of you filed into the house to change for dinner. In the kitchen, the windows were all open to allow the cool night air into the room. On the table sat an amazing dinner spread, the mark of a fantastic summer with the Weasleys. You sat down next to Ginny, and began to pile your plate with all of Mollys fixings.

“So Y/N, how was your school year dear? I barely had time to chat with you on the platform,” Molly smiled at you, helping herself to some green beans.

“Well, I did well on all of my owls, but the end of the year was mostly spent studying for those,” you frowned, not happy to recall the stress from your end of year exams.

“And you were absolutely wicked in the final quidditch match! Mum, you should’ve seen her. Truly, I think she scored at least 50 points,” Ron excitedly recounted the match, where Gryffindor beat Slytherin and won the quidditch cup.

“Yes, well, Woods was certainly happy with me after that game,” you laughed, earning an immature laugh from George a scowl from Fred. You rolled your eyes at the two.

“Well that’s just fantastic Y/N. Say, how’s your mother been?” Arthur asked. And so the dinner went on, a lively and wholesome evening ending in a warm cherry pie for dessert. As everybody stood to mark the end of dinner, you began to collect plates.

“Nonsense, Y/N, go on! Run along!” Molly took the plates from you and shooed you off.

“You heard the woman,” Fred said, grabbing your hand and dragging you out the front door. The sun had completely set, the sounds of summer surrounded you as you ran down the steps of the house.

“Where are we going,” you laughed, still following Fred as you held hands, George running alongside you.

“On a quick pit stop,” George grinned, running up towards the shed. Fred let go of your hand as he opened the door. You heard a few bottles clanking together and before you know it, Fred’s standing in front of you holding up two bottles of fire whisky next to his grinning face. George follows suit but is instead holding a crate of fireworks.

“Did you guys bring this back from Hogsmeade?” You questioned in a hushed voice, astonished that they had managed to sneak this much past their mother.

“Yep,” George grinned, nodded his head fervently. Fred grasped the necks of both bottles into one head and nonchalantly closed the shed door. His hands were so big and definitely strong from playing quidditch all these years… You shook your head. Merlin, couldn’t stop thinking of him like that for two minutes?

“Follow this way,” Fred nodded over to a hill a bit down the path to the lake. You began to follow the twins, having to walk two steps at a time to keep up with their lanky legs. The deep blue of the night sky basked over the hill as the three of you trudged over the peak and over to the other side. The twins plopped down onto the grass and opened the bottles of fire whisky.

“To summer,” George cheered with Fred, their bottles clanking against each other. They both took a swig before sticking the bottles out to you. You giggled, grabbing the bottle from Fred and raising it up.

“To summer,” you cheered, taking a hefty swig of the fire whisky. Fred laughed and shook his head at you.

“So, shall we light these puppies up?” George grinned, gesturing to the box of fireworks. You grinned back at him.

“We should wait a bit Georgie. Hopefully the hill will help block most of the light and sound, but it wouldn’t hurt to wait until they’re in bed,” Fred pointed out, George nodding his head. He turned to face you.

“Mums been on our case about all the pranking and stuff. She took away a bunch of our creations already, so it be better if she just… doesn’t know too much,” George whispered. You nodded, laying back onto your elbow. With your free arm, you took another swig of whisky.

“Understood.” You replied, passing the bottle back to Fred.

“How about a game of exploding snaps and shots?” Fred asked with a lazy grin, pulling a deck of cards out from his pant pockets. You grinned back at him.

“Wait,” George snapped up, “did you hear something?”

You and a Fred sat up and looked up at to top of the hill. Two little heads of ginger hair peaked over the side. They tried to duck down, but George had already reached them, pulling them up by the arms.

“Please George, can we stay?” You heard Ron plead as he was guided down the hill.

“Not tonight, Ron. And we gotta get Ginny up to bed,” George’s voice rang over the slope. You turned to face Fred with pursed lips.

“Well, wanna play?” You laughed, relaxing back on your elbow. He mirrored your movements.

“Yes darling,” Fred smiled at you, shuffling the cards in his hands. A light blush managed to creep into your face. He kept eye contact with you as he dealt the cards.

“You start,” you said. He laughed and tidied up his hand.

“So, what kind of trouble have you been up to the past few weeks?” He asked, placing a card down.

“Oh you know, a few muggle clubs with my cousin, but nothing else really,” you shrugged, taking your turn. He smirked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Y/N’s a party girl now? I guess I do remember you having quite a good time at the quidditch house cup afterparty,” He winked. You rolled your eyes but one of your cards snapped, causing you to jump. “Drink.”

You brought the bottle to you lips and took a swig. A drop of whisky hung off your bottom lip, and Fred’s eyes were quick to notice. You licked the bottom of your lip and smiled at him. His head fell to his shoulder as he returned a lopsided smile. Your blush crept deeper on your face as you tried to focus back to the game. You’d hung out with Fred plenty of times, granted George was usually there too, but something felt different. You couldn’t help but feel like he was watching you the same way you were watching him…

“Well, speaking of party girls, you certainly seemed to like Angelina at that party, hmm?” You raised a brow at him while picking up a card. He put a card down and chuckled, shaking his head.

“Angelina sure is something, but we’re just good friends. Besides, George already has a thing for her, and I have to admit, I have eyes for someone else,” He raised his brow and picked up another card. Was Fred seeing someone else? Surely you’d have heard about it, he is pretty popular after all.

“Oh?” You questioned, putting down a card and picking up another. Fred opened his mouth to speak but another card exploded in your palm, startling the both of you. You gasped and Fred chuckled while he passed you the bottle.

“Mm, I think she might like me too…” Fred trailed off, watching you as you put your lips to the bottle and swallowed yet another shot. Your face cringed a bit this time, liquor dripping onto your lips. Fred put down his cards and moved closer to you. Your breathing quickened as you look at his face. He was staring at your lips. Was he about to kiss you?

“Y/N… ” his eyes panned up to yours, the moonlight illuminating his freckled nose and softened expression. You breathed in quick, unsure of your voice.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You breathed out quietly, Fred nodded softly before drawing closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed carefully against yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, it felt like you were dreaming. He brought his palm up to your face and caressed you gently while deepening the kiss. He was a good kisser. He pulled away gently, now almost on top of you. You watched his chest rising and the flush on his cheeks. You could tell by his demeanor that he wanted more. And so did you. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him more harshly this time, your hunger for Fred growing stronger. It felt like all day you were just itching to have him close to you, and now that you had the chance, you weren’t going to mess it up.

“Y/N, let me take you somewhere,” Fred breathed out in between a kiss. You hummed into his mouth. This caused him to start kissing down your neck.

“Do you think this is a good idea, you know, you and me?” You sighed, your back arching slightly off the ground as his hands explored down your body. He stopped and looked up at you, his lips parted and hair disheveled.

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he smiled charmingly, standing up and holding out his hand. You smiled and took it, he was so strong he practically lifted you off the ground. You stepped close to him and put your arms around his neck.

“Okay, then take me wherever you want to go, Fred,” you said in a low voice, leaning up to kiss him again. He moaned into your lips.

“Follow me,” Fred wasted no time and began to lead you down to the bottom of the hill. You guys walked for a few minutes, up into the surrounding woods. Soon you reached a small platform in the trees. It resembled a treehouse but it was made of fabric.

“Here?” You raised a brow, turning around to Fred. He flashed his signature smile and put his hands on your waist.

“Just trust me, love,” he walked you backwards while giving you sweet and sensual kisses. Soon he turned you around and lifted you so you could climb up to the platform. He followed suit.

“Wow,” you gasped. The platform had clearly been enchanted, the inside of the tent being filled with comfortable sack chairs and carpets. Fred kissed your neck as he guided you to a seat.

“Bill helped us out when he was home for a bit, me and George were going to show it to you tomorrow,” he sat down next to you as you admired the club house. This summer was going to be so much fun.

“I’ll have to thank Bill when I see him,” you chuckled, grabbing the back of Fred’s neck and pulling him back into a kiss.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fred’s POV

This day truly couldn’t have gotten better. Somehow, I was on top of Y/N, kissing her and feeling her little moans against my lips. It felt so good to have her under me, moaning because of me. I don’t know how long I’d been wanting this, but it sure as hell felt right. I slid my hand under her shirt and up her side, her back lifted up off the chair. Merlin, she wasn’t even wearing a bra under her sweatshirt. I felt my pants tighten, I’d never wanted anybody so bad.

“Fred,” she moaned, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I breathed out a laugh as I sat back to pull off my shirt. Her eyes were blown out as she watched me, she looked so sexy. I came back over her and set my forearm next to her head as I hovered over her body. My hand went down to the bottom of her sweatshirt and looked up to ask for permission. She nodded and I quickly removed the piece of clothing from her body. I sat back to take in the image of Y/N laying on her back in front of me. Her body was perfect, and her tits were tanned in the shape of that tiny fucking bikini top. I groaned hungrily as I bent down to take her nipple into my mouth. She gasped with pleasure as my hands explored her body, my lips attached to her sensitive skin. I just wanted to taste her, I wanted to kiss every inch of her body and show her how badly I’ve been wanting her.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” I whispered, kissing her neck softly, “so perfect. Do you know how fucking perfect you look right now?” She groaned as I sucked on her neck. We both knew it was a risk to leave mark on her, but neither of us cared. I began to leave a trail of gentle kisses down her body as my hands pulled down her cotton shorts.

“Fred,” she blushed, trying to close her thighs around my shoulder. I chuckled and kissed the inner part of her leg.

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. I want to taste you. Can I please? I promise it will be worth it,” I pleaded, linking my arms under her hips. She moaned at the action and quickly nodded her head, relaxing back into the chair. I slid off her shorts and panties, and linked my arms back under her hips. I’d never wanted to eat pussy so bad in my life. My mouth was salivating as I ran my tongue up her clit in one slick motion. She shuddered and locked her thighs around my head again. I used this time to bury my face in her, licking in soft circles around her bud. She began to grab my hair and gently fuck herself on my tongue. I felt like I was about to cum. Her face twisted up in pleasure which only made my pants tighter. She tasted so fucking good and all I wanted was to make her cum all over my mouth. I sped up my motions and she arched off the chair. Her full breasts bounced as she felt back down. I plunged my tongue into her hole and used my fingers to swipe circles around her clit.

“Merlin, Freddie,” she grunted, making a sound different from anything I’d heard out come out of her mouth before, “I’m- I’m going to-“ I locked my tongue on her clit as her thighs trembled around my head. She shuddered and moaned and released warm, sweet juices onto my tongue. I happily licked up every last drop.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your POV

You gasped for air as Fred came back up to you, kissing up your stomach with shiny lips. He kissed you on the mouth before grinding down onto your leg. You could feel how hard he was. You moaned into the kiss and pushed your hips up against him. You knew what you wanted, and besides, your friendship was already far gone. You knew you wouldn’t be able to give up that mouth after you knew what it was capable.

“Freddie,” you purred, looking up at him with starry eyes, “do you want to know what I feel like?” He groaned and pushed down harder into your leg.

“Godric, yes, Y/N. But are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, kissing your cheek and pushing your hair behind your ear. You chuckled and smiled at him. Here the two of you were, doing something completely out of the ordinary, and yet Fred was still just Fred. Charming and caring and reckless.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He flushed and gave you his crooked smile before sitting up to take off his pants. You sat up to watch as his cock slapped up against his abdomen, the sight causing you to groan. He was big, and while you weren’t scared, he was definitely the biggest you’d ever taken. You sat onto your knees and looked up and him for permission, not that you needed any at this point. You looked down at you with a strained expression and place his hand on the back of your head. You leaned forward and took the tip into your mouth, looking up at him again before taking his full length down your throat. This earned you deep growl as he thrusted into your mouth even deeper. Once you had properly wet his dick, you laid back down onto the chair, spreading your legs and grabbing your tits, mostly so you had something to hold onto. He hovered over you and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Just tell me if you need to stop,” he tried to whisper, but it came out as more of a throaty groan. You nodded and placed your hands around his neck. He positioned himself in front of you before testing the tip of his hard cock in your pussy. With each inch getting added into you, you scraped your nails into his neck. He kissed up and down your neck to soothe you as he sat inside of you to let your pussy adjust to the size.

“I’m okay Freddie, you can fuck me now,” you whispered into his ear. With no delay, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck and groaned as he began to thrust in and out of you. He felt so good fucking you like this. Especially after he had just eaten you so good, your entire pussy was pulsing around him.

“Y/N,” Fred moaned, grabbing your hips and thrusting into you even harder, “you’re taking me so well. Just like that darling.” You moaned as you bounced from his thrusts. His hand moved to cover your clit with pressure. You were going to cum again, and so soon. How was Fred doing this to you?

“Freddie, you’re going to make me cum again,” you whined, you grabbed your tits again in a desperate attempt to hold onto to something steady.

“That’s alright, Y/N. I love making your perfect pussy come for me,” he grunted, lifting up your hips and thrusting even harder into your pussy. Your moans turned erratic as you felt yourself building up once again. You clenched around him one last time before your back lifted up, your pussy pulsating around his cock. His thrusts began to waver as he fell apart. You made sure to push yourself up towards him so he knew it was okay to cum inside of you. With one final thrust, Fred groaned as he released himself, your pussy getting filled with hot spurts of his seed. The two of you laid like that for a few minutes, catching your breath and recognizing the fact that you’d just fucked your family friend. Fred slid your panties back up your legs before leisurely putting on his own clothes.

“Freddie, we should probably get back. It’s going to be hard enough trying to pretend like this didn’t happen to George,” you noted, pulling your sweatshirt over you head.

“We don’t have to pretend, Y/N. At least not in front of George. He’s going to find out eventually,” Fred chuckled, placing a finger under your chin and kissing your lips softly. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to this. His stupidly soft lips made you dizzy every time.

“I guess that’s true… so does that mean you want to continue this?” You asked sheepishly, a blush rising to your face again as he gave you a smile.

“You’re daft if you think I’m not going to make you mine, Y/N,” he smirked. How many times was he going to make you blush tonight? You tried to play it off as the two of you descended from the fort and started off towards the hill again. In the distance, you could see George sitting up on the hill next to the fireworks. As you and Fred approached him, he stood up with a half empty bottle in his head.

“There you are! I figured you two went off to the treehouse…” he eyed the two of suspiciously, and it didn’t help that you had a permanent blush to your face.

“Sorry Georgie, Y/N wanted to check it out,” Fred said nonchalantly as he took a seat next to his brother. You followed suit and looked up to the sky as the two of them began to set off the fireworks. The sounds of summer made you feel at home, and the visions of two lanky red heads laughing chaotically as they lit off the fireworks made you smile. It sure was good to be back at the burrow.

[itsnotbird]

Ghosting

Post!Hydra Dark! Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

‘I’ve been ghosting…I’ve been ghosting along, ghost in your house, ghost in your arms.’

Summary: Maybe his tendencies are odd, but maybe the two of you are just meant to be? He doesn’t want to be the ghost that looms around, but what choice does he have?

Warnings: Stalking, dark themes, 18+ content, not intended for minors! Reader gets harassed in the beginning, Bucky is…he’s a little crazy but he means well. Isn’t he so dreamy? Trust the process here.

A/n: I had this idea and I’m going to poorly execute it! Not cannon whatsoever, post Hydra/Winter soldier Bucky but…old habits die hard.

“You want to come back to my place?”

You scrunched your nose. “That’s um…that’s a kind offer, Connor, but I’m kinda tired.” You politely say as you leave the restaurant.

It’s a bold offer for him to make after a first date- a lousy first date. He made you pay half the bill, made subtle comments about your choice of outfit, talked about himself the entire time. Now, he has the audacity to ask for a lousy hook up.

He looks at you with a confused smile. “No? Oh…okay.”

“I don’t know if you were…expecting something but…I just don’t think we’re the best match.” You say honestly.

He scoffs like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Okay, wow, um…I was trying to be nice because you’re clearly desperate-”

“Desperate?” You choke out a dry laugh.

“-but hey, go ahead and be a tease, that’s fine.”

“What?” You squint, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Yeah, it probably doesn’t take much.” He says with a serious look.

“Wow, what a wasted night.” You say to yourself.

“Yeah tell me about it, you sat there going on and on about your parents and I’m not even going to get head? Hey, newsflash! Your parents are probably just disappointed they have a screw up of a daughter. Seriously, you’re so fucking boring.”

You huff in disbelief, not able to wrap your head around how mean his words are.

“I’m gonna go.” You say. “I hope you can find a decent personality.”

As you turn, walking back in the direction of your apartment, he shouts a few choice words in your direction. You only wrap your coat around you tighter.

Though you hate it, tears burn your eyes. Silently crying in the dark, you place a call to your best friend.

“Hey! How was the date?” She asks in a cheery tone.

Immediately you sniffle. “Pretty bad.”

Your soft sobs echo off of brick walls, all the way up to Bucky sitting on the roof of the building you pass. The sound is enticing, causing him to look over the edge at your figure.

Somehow, he knows that he should just stay where he is, it’s really something he doesn’t need to get involved with.

But…he finds himself hopping over to the next roof, following you. It’s like he’s enticed to do it. Part of him - the small part that’s still sane- recognizes how crazy and creepy he’s being.

The much larger part of him doesn’t give a fuck.

Rooftop to rooftop, he’s like your shadow, listening to your conversation, watching the surroundings around you to make sure you don’t get hurt. He aches for you, utterly displeased that you are upset. Which is a crazy idea because he knows nothing about you.

Well, not for long.

See, it’s like the universe is on his side. Because though he’s not trying to keep track of you, you’re constantly crossing his path. Over the next week, he quickly learns your schedule. He learns that you leave your apartment building at 8am to go to work at the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you usually get off at 3pm. Then your night plans alternate, one night you go to a college class, the other you go to a friend’s house where you don’t come back until very late.

You grocery shop at a Whole Foods, you don’t shop for yourself, you like music, you play the guitar. He watches you open your apartment window and sit on the sill, smoking a cigarette once in a while and that’s how he knows you’re stressed.

At first, he ran into you purely by chance.

But it became almost too easy to pin you down when you lived the same, boring life.

On the coming Saturday, you go on another date. He doesn’t know this until you and the man come into the bar he’s in.

You look gorgeous, like always. You seemed to have this classic elegance about you, and this guy…well, he’s wearing brown shoes and black trousers so there’s no hope.

He tries not to stare, but you laugh so beautifully and your smile is sparkling, then he’s angry because this fool is making you laugh and smile.

You have much hope for this guy, Noah is his name. He’s sweet, he’s funny, he…is so insanely boring.

But you push past it and claim that everyone is a little off on first dates. He pays for your drinks and offers to call you a cab home. What you don’t expect is for the way he grips you sharply in the alleyway of the bar, kissing you heatedly. You awkwardly laugh and try to tell him this wasn’t really your style, but he’s rather persistent.

You feel stupid. Did you give him the wrong signs? He was so good the entire night and this is how it has to end?

“Noah, wait. Wait, stop.” You say, trying push his hands off of you.

“You’re really gorgeous.” He huffs, pulling the strap of your dress down so he can suck on your shoulder.

“I- thank you but really, I don’t want you to do this.” You struggle again, only to be pushed back harder against the brick. Your head hits it and pain blooms in your skull.

“No, it’s okay.” He claims, holding your hands down.

You begin to panic, frozen in fear as you start begging him to let you go.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly says.

You look over at the man who has a very scary look in his eye.

“I think the lady wants you to stop.” He says.

Noah rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Bucky looks at your quivering lip and determines that he can’t do that.

So he sighs, then calmly comes to grip Noah’s shoulder and rips him away from you. He stumbles back, aiming to throw a punch before Bucky stops his fist and punches him in the face, hard enough that he falls to the ground.

You gasp, fixing yourself and quickly wiping your face. The stranger turns to you, eyes searching you.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks.

“No. Thank you.”

He nods, then motions to the street. “I’ll get you a cab home.”

You aren’t completely sure what to do, it was all so strange. Looking back to Noah on the ground, you quickly get away from him, trusting this stranger more than anything now.

He does exactly what he says and hails you a cab, watches you get in and shuts the door behind you.

There are no other words spoken.

You drive away and that’s where it’s left.

Or so you think.

In all actuality, that little interaction has been fueling his growing obsession. He’s paying closer attention, in every shadow, you could find him there. But you never do.

From the fire escape, he sometimes- lots of times- he sits when he can’t sleep. He sits on the ledge, concealed in darkness, and silently observes you. Bucky determines that you were strategically placed in his life, you had to be.

The universe was never on his side, so why was he being rewarded now? If he didn’t understand it, it’s because his brain is still trying to connect wires back together. Oh but it does make sense, you’re this shining star, you’re the lark bird with a broken wing and who is he? He’s the man to help.

He recognizes the look in your eye, the gaze that searches for salvation in every person, he knows desperation because it’s been under his mask for years. He could be your savior.

He is.

No, no he won’t force anything. You’ll have to ask, admit that you strive for something other than the cards you have been dealt. But you couldn’t do that if you keep ignoring your ghost.

He’ll pull the sheet off of his head, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll strategically plan the way your paths will cross again, like any good soldier does, and it’s going to open that shut door. He won’t have to look for an open window anymore, physically or metaphorically.

Saturday night. You’re dressed up. You leave your flat in heels and a backless dress. You should really put on a coat, that shall around your shoulders won’t keep the chilly air away.

He watches from the adjacent roof top, he makes sure you get in your cab alright.

He knows you’re going to your best friend’s birthday night out at the city’s newest jazz club, a very elegant place, he’s heard you discussing it with her for weeks.

That’s where he’ll be.

Dressed the part in a suit he’s lifted from the dry cleaners, he’ll lurk around the bar, hide within the crowd, stay far away from the dance floor.

Nostalgia seems to make him feel a little sick, the music, the theme, everything seems to be reconnecting him to the boy he was before.

James Buchanan Barnes. That’s who he needs to be now. Charming and all smiles and smooth talking, he could do, can’t he?

Irritation bites at his nerves when opportunity doesn’t present itself for a while. You seem glued to your star-of-the-show best friend. He admires your loyalty, your blind adoration for a woman who tends to brush you off often for much more interesting people.

How dare she? If you were stitched to his side, he’d never make you feel pushed out, he’d give you his attention, he’d make sure you knew you were the most important thing in the room.

He’s bitter now.

He needs a drink. The idea of it soothes more than the alcohol does, given the fact he could drink three entire bottles before feeling something. That’s a painful disadvantage of the serum in his blood, he couldn’t even effortlessly get drunk to forget his troubles.

At the bar, he orders whiskey neat and pushes his hair back in a huff.

“Hi, could I get another glass of champagne?”

There it was, that voice that’s better than every song being played here.

You stand beside him, smiling at the bartender.

“Actually.” You change your mind. “A Martini, please. No- just a double Tito’s with three olives. Please.”

The barman chuckles at your request and begins to make it for you.

You’re here, all elegant in your green silk dress that compliments your eyes, smelling like your nice perfume, the one you spray on your wrists and behind your ear. Suddenly, Bucky is at a loss of words.

He’s waited around all night and you’re finally here.

You sigh in dissatisfaction, it’s a noise he never ever wants to hear from you ever again.

“Thank you.” You thank the barman again as he slides your drink to you.

Bucky watches you take a sip, he envies the martini glass for the way your lips wrap around the rim. Your eyes shut as you taste the alcohol, dark lashes flutter together and you look just like a doll.

“Rough night?” He questions.

You face him, an excuse on your lips but you pause when you recognize him.

“No, no my evening has been fine. I’m sorry, you look so familiar. Have we met?”

He thinks it’s cute the way you pretend you don’t remember him.

“Briefly, I believe. Outside of the-”

“Outside that bar. Right. You…helped me.” You state, obviously feeling a little embarrassed even though he isn’t sure why you would be.

“That guy was a dick, don’t worry about it.” He says, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Thank you…most people would’ve just kept walking.” You say, genuine tone, vulnerable face.

“Most people suck.”

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s known. He smiles, watching you tuck away a strand of hair that has fallen from your updo.

You introduce yourself now, giving him your name to hold, not like a secret.

“I’m James.” He says.

“James.”

His name has belonged on your lips for over a hundred years.

“I like that name.” You determine, sipping on your drink. “What brings you here tonight, James?”

He’s quick to think on his feet.

“A failed double date.”

You give him a questioning look.

“How was it failed? She wasn’t a damsel in distress?” You joke, and he smiles at your smile.

“No, she left with another man. Honestly, it’s fine, I wasn’t interested in her.” He lies, adoring the pout you gain on his behalf.

“That’s a shame, you seem like great company, James.”

He hasn’t been told that for as long as he can remember, well, he can’t remember much, actually. But he does know that he loves getting to know you face to face, not just learning from a distance. There would never be a distance again, he knows this, feels it in the way you accidentally touch his arm as you laugh in conversation.

You feel as if you’ve known him for ages, you haven’t but he sure knows you.

“Why look so drab if you’re celebrating your best friend’s birthday?” He asks, watching you toy with your empty glass before the bartender takes it away.

A sigh leaves your perfect lips. “I’m happy, of course I am…I just, well, sometimes I get looked over. It’s fine, it’s not my night, it’s hers…but somehow it happens very often when her and I go out. I suppose it’s just easy for people to forget I’m around, especially her when she has so many people’s attention.”

He shakes his head, you might as well have confessed to a crime. Those words shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“You’re not easy to forget.” Bucky tells you, his clear, blue, eyes heavy in yours. “In my opinion, you’re much more memorable and-and admirable than her.”

He hasn’t spoken this much in forever, he’s surprised he remembers words as big.

You blush at his compliment. “Really?”

“Really.” He coos. “Girls like her are a dime a dozen, but not you. I could tell from the moment I saw you, you have something far more interesting than her.”

You selfishly let his words flatter you for a moment.

“She’s my best friend since high school, she’s really been there for me so for that I am grateful but…well, she has a tendency to make me a sidekick. I don’t like being Robin.” You laugh.

Bucky pretends he knows who you’re talking about.

“You deserve to be the hero.” He chimes.

You giggle. “I am no Captain America.”

That has him at a loss for words.

You don’t notice though. You look over to the stage, the band plays a slow throwback, a smooth jazz song.

The alcohol bas mostly calmed your nerves, and the way your best friend has yet to notice your absence, has you making an offer you’d never make.

“Are you a fan of Frank Sinatra, James?” You ask.

“Never heard of him.” He jokes, definitely finding it far more amusing than you do.

“Do you dance?” You question now, boldly taking his hand.

You haven’t figured out the deal with the gloves he wears yet, but you don’t ask in fear you’ll offend him.

And though he said he’d stay far from the dance floor, he’s blindly guiding you to the space where the others sway, it’s like he’s enchanted by the low lighting on your skin, or the way you’re so willing to let him in. He’s not even sure he remembers how to dance, but he falls right into the rhythm like it’s always been with him.

Gentle, he’s oh so gentle with you, you have no clue how much he’s thinking about the touch he’s giving you.

It’s you who gets flirty, hand sliding over his shoulder to gently hold the back of his neck, you gently press into his rather broad frame.

You can see the way your best friend’s eyes finally find you, and she’s immediately curious.

You’re immediately frightened.

She’s going to want him, she’s always had the same taste as you.

You let out a shaky breath and look away.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately asks in a protective tone as he feels you go rigid in his hands. His defense is up, he looks around the room for a threat.

“Nothing, sorry. I’m sorry, I’m okay.” You let out a soft laugh, laying your head on his chest.

The action immediately distracts him.

Here you were, falling right into him like you were meant to, his perfect girl.

He tucks that loose hair behind your ear, he lets his fingers gently trace down your spine until he comes back to hold your waist.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast.” He says close to you, not thinking about the possibility of you asking just how he could tell.

“I’m trying not to step on your shoes.” Is all you say with a fleeting giggle.

As the song closes, you’re in some sort of dream land. It’s not the alcohol, even if it was a strong drink, it’s all him.

That elated feeling continues as he pulls you away from the crowd, and it dissipates right when your best friend finds you.

“There you are!” She smiles at you. “I see you’ve made a friend.”

You should just go home.

“This is James.” You say, watching them greet each other.

“It’s my birthday, James.” She tells him in her tipsy tone.

He looks at her birthday sash and nods. “I can see that. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. You can give me a gift later if you want.”

You should really just go home and put on your sweats and a movie.

But then you feel his hand on the small of your back.

“We’re actually going for a stroll.” He says, because what else is he to say? That your friend’s actions aren’t attractive? How she comes on far too strong in the worst way? Perhaps he’s only in this mindset because he can see the way your face fell when she posed a threat.

She’s no threat, sweet girl. No one is a threat to you, ever, not now that I’m here.

He says it with his eyes as you look up at him in question. The gentle nod he offers has you easing. A stroll sounds nice.

You find yourself agreeing? How is it so easy to agree and tell your friend good night? It’s as easy as your hand around his- large- bicep as the two of you walk the glimmering night streets of the city.

He makes you feel so…secure. Maybe this is how girls get kidnapped and turn up dead in alleyways, but you feel the need to trust him with your life.

You feel the need to grow obsessive over every word and touch he gives you.

Maybe that’s how you end up showing him your apartment. He acts like he’s never seen it before.

And he has not one intention on things going further- well, maybe just one. But he’s a perfect gentleman, drinking the coffee you make him, complimenting your music collection, asking about the instrument in the corner.

It’s all you who gets closer.

And as your lips touch, you can’t help but think this is insane.

You should pull away, but then he grips your waist and deepens the kiss and you completely lose your mind.

He’s a stranger in your home, on your lips.

But is he really?

“I’m sorry.” You immediately say when he pulls back and turns his head away. “I-I don’t do this, a lot of girls say that, but I really don’t do this.”

He knows you don’t, and the fact that you’re doing it with him has him trying to control himself.

“I’m sorry.”

You apologize too much. He’s going to have to fix that.

“No, no.” He says, looking back down at you. “Don’t. It’s me, not you.”

“I’ve heard that before.” You laugh awkwardly, anxiously.

His hand comes to your cheek. “Hey, no it really is me. You’re perfect, I…am not.”

Your brows droop together. “You seem pretty perfect to me…I’m pretty sure I like you. Is that crazy?”

How sweet, how innocent.

He struggles with his emotion like he always does, too confused to put things into words, and the confusion turns into irritation and soon he’s huffing and drawing both hands to your face, like it will help.

“Not crazy.” He says. “I like you too, I’m certain of it…but I am not perfect, do you understand?”

He’s a magician, or he’s drugged you. James speaks assertively and it’s like you’re in a daze, just nodding along.

He sees that spark in your eye, in that moment his suspicions are confirmed. He’s watched you strike out on dates because you try with men who don’t understand what you need. Only he knows, only he knows you want someone to comfort and lead you. That’s how he gets you to do as he asks, which all just consists of changing out of that damn gorgeous dress and relaxing on your sofa with him. But in the long run, he knows you’ll follow with your blind loyalty and never forsake him.

He doesn’t let you be nervous, thinking he’s expecting something from you. He sits and lets you decide how close you want to be next to him, and that’s because Bucky is confident you’ll be following right along in his plan without his assistance.

You sit about five inches away from him, knees curled to your chest in your flannel pants and you bunch your sweater sleeves around your hands. When it’s supposed to be a two way conversation, you hardly notice how he lets you do all the talking.

That’s because he isn’t sure how to go about explaining things to you yet, he has to wait for the moment he’s confident you’re all in on this.

“It’s weird, I feel so comfortable around you…like I already know your presence.”

You do, you just don’t know that.

Bucky hums, then is immensely pleased with the way you draw yourself closer.

“Sometimes people are just like that. Familiar.” He says, slightly stiff as you turn to lean into his shoulder.

“I’m glad you seem familiar, James.”

That’s a statement echoing in his haunted mind, bouncing off walls as he carries you to bed and tucks you in after you fall asleep against him, it’s with him in the following days when he shows up in your life again after you had the fear you were never going to see him. You woke up and he was gone, no note, no number to call and you cried and felt pathetic and yet, here he is now.

Bucky is waiting outside the coffee shop as you come out after your shift, he looms in such a way you almost don’t see him.

“James.” You say in surprise, heart beating a little faster at the abrupt introduction of him. “Hi, I-I didn’t- were you waiting for me? Meeting someone?”

Bucky smiles at your nervousness. “I was waiting for you.”

Interactions like this become common. Before you realize it, you’re getting to know someone who has you memorized perfectly. There’s no concern on how to reach him, because he always manages to find you, he’s always there when you need him. And weeks pass and Bucky wants to hear you say his name a thousand times over, his obsession grows and you know it.

The best part? You don’t mind it. Sure, it’s an adjustment, your whole life has been a constant fight for attention. So when he’s here, physically ignoring people when you’re near him, your first reaction is to think it won’t last.

He assures you through his actions that he is here to stay, because when he wants something, he takes it.

You could classify this as dating, wouldn’t you? Those nights he takes you away to places where it’s just the two of you, those are dates in your mind. To Bucky? There what life is meant to be like forever.

A month after the meeting in the bar, you’re sitting in your lounge chair, murmuring about how much you hate your job and the fact that you can’t seem to get a better one, it’s a conversation Bucky hears often. And somewhere from the moment you’re draped over his lap and his hand nudges your chin up when you get blue, you sigh.

“You never touch me.” You say, large eyes blinking at him.

Bucky grows confused. “That’s not true.” He states.

Your head rests against his collar bone, face almost nuzzles into his neck and you reach for his hand.

“I don’t know the feeling of your skin.”

It’s in this moment that he knows you’re ready for the truth, as much of it as you can handle.

When you started to fall for James, you knew he was different, had a different energy about him. Never in a million years did you expect him to start explaining a story so dark and horrid, and it’s only the version he alters for you, not having it in him to taint your perfect mind with the entire nightmare.

He talks more than you’ve ever heard him talk, for thirty two minutes you sit in his lap with wide eyes and a pale expression, trying to wrap your head around it. You have about a hundred and one questions and can’t fully form any, you wait until he finishes, then he looks at you with something so humble and vulnerable.

“…What?” You breathe. “What!?”

You’re off of his lap, pushing the sleeves of your shirt up and starting a pace while you try to process the information. He sits there, watching you, letting you get through the shock.

“James- you know that sounds crazy, right? Metal arm, wanted by the government, over a hundred years old- crazy.”

You continue to mutter and work through the sheer fear of ‘oh God what did you just get yourself into?’, then after about eight and a half minutes, you settle.

Just like he knew you would. Because that’s the kind of woman you are, able to think things through from an alternate perspective.

You stand before him, hair tucked behind your ears and you breathe.

“I want to see.” You state, sure of it.

“Why?” He questions.

“I might not believe you otherwise.”

You believe him, of course you do, this is something that could only happen to you. The more you think about it, this story explains things. Like the way he always hold you with his right hand, how he goes rigid at the mention of things that could be triggering for him and you had no clue.

Bucky processes it, then stands.

A glove comes off, a perfectly normal, large, right hand is under it.

Then, the other.

You blink, staring at the metal that has been revealed, shiny and silver.

He swallows hard, then pulls at the hem of the henley shirt he wears. It lands on the floor and you don’t move, just let your eyes explore the new discovery. Up his right arm, toned bicep, broad shouldered, expanding chest, down his stomach and back up and then…

His head turns, he looks away when you see it, the scarred skin of his left shoulder. It’s jarred, metal meets flesh and you can’t look away.

Maybe you should be repulsed, but you aren’t. You step forward, hand raised and he flinches slightly.

“Can I? I-I’ll be gentle.” You whisper.

If you were not made just for him, you would have left already, screamed perhaps, anything but let your fingertips graze his skin with no anger or malice behind it.

He continues to look away while you explore, and even though you’re filled with curiosity, a sour feeling stirs in your stomach at the thought someone did this to him.

“What is it?” You ask, your index running down the metal, watching it flex almost human like.

“Vibranium.” He says, tone bare.

“This is like…Stark technology stuff.” You gasp, watching his fingers flex.

He lets out a shaky breath at the Stark name, you make a mental note to not speak of it again.

Your hand skims the expanse of his chest, firm, tense. Had you truly not realized just how huge he is? Down his flesh arm, fingers follow valleys of muscle until they slip right into his. His hand is warm and entirely engulfing yours.

The other, it holds the back of his neck, lost in his hair, forcing him to look down at you, just in time for you to lean up and kiss him slowly.

You’re okay with it, all of it.

Perhaps you’re secretly just as crazy as he is?

With your hand in his, he has no choice but to grab your waist with the thing he viewed as a weapon. You do not hurt, he does not maim you like he has feared, you draw closer to his body and show him kindness and comfort.

There was no going back now, you couldn’t reject him now. Not when you’re shifting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. The sky outside could be falling and you’d still be here, barefoot in your living room, tip toed to reach him. His hand leaves yours to cup your jaw, fingers flexed into skin like he could sink claws in.

Your hot. It’s a heat that blooms inside out and you find your hand twisting in hair and the other drawing his hips closer. Perhaps your actions shouldn’t come like this after he explained how tortured he is, but he does not stop you. In fact, it’s Bucky that nips at your lip, drawing you away in shock.

“You bit me.” You state, shocked.

“Sorry.” He says deeply.

Licking your lower lip, you shake your head. “No, it’s fine.”

That had to be it, that connection he felt, it’s because you could handle insanity.

Huffing against his lips, you breathe, open mouthed into his. “Is the serum a real thing?” You question before his tongue slips to yours.

Without a word, he’s gripping your sides and pulling you up, feet dangle before your thighs trap his waist, just one arm holding you there.

Okay. Serum’s real.

It’s hot mouths on each other until you tell him to take you to your bedroom.

“Listen to me.” He says as he sits you on the bed. “Don’t give me this just because you think it’s what I want.”

Immediately you shake your head. “No, no, I want this.”

He strokes your hair. “Think this through, there’s no going back after this, okay? You’ll be tied to me, you’ll be guilty by association, if you have me this once, I’ll want to keep coming back.”

Your heart hammers inside your chest, knees press together and your lips hang apart.

“You won’t have to keep coming back if you stay.” You say, reaching out to grip the top of his jeans. “I want it all.”

Psychotic, absolutely psychotic for speaking the words you speak and mean it so deeply. How could you say such things and still look like an angel? And how could you make him feel the way he does when you do nothing at all?

Bucky’s drunk, he’s gone, he doesn’t even know if it’s him or yet another alter ego that is enjoying all of this. But he’s undressing you and feeling every single valley and curve and soft spot. His lips are everywhere, pressed to your bare skin as you trust him with the most vulnerable parts of yourself. He’s kind to you, bringing you to a point where he knows you’re going to be relaxed enough for it. It’s his fingers that draw it out, they’re warming you up, causing your head to tilt back in ecstasy.

It courses in his blood, the rush he gets from watching you twitch and moan.

There’s stars that dance across your vision, they linger and burn, especially when you start to come down from the high you haven’t felt in awhile and he’s kissing your chest while lined up to your entrance.

“You can tell me no.” He offers one last time, but you shake your head fiercely.

“I want it.” You say, hand in his hair. “Do you?”

Does he? What a silly question for you to ask. He wants your everything, he wants to lay his claim and make you belong to with him. He wants to know you inside and out, wants to feel the way you’ll shudder and cry when he pushes you off the precipice.

“Yes.” He whispers, heavy eye contact as he stares down at you. “I want this. I want you.”

Your free hand comes to gently clutch the dog tags that hang from his neck, and you’re slightly breathless as you drag him down to your lips.

“You have me, you have me.”

Those pesky wires in his brain? The ones that are half connected? Well, they’re short circuiting. Maybe the wrong ones connect, because the level of possession he feels now isn’t one he thinks is normal. As the asset, he wasn’t allowed to possess anything, he was the possession…and before? Before the war and the snowy day in Austria and everything, he was sure he didn’t feel this way.

This is new, this is entirely because of you.

One hand braced at your head, the other grips the underside of your knee, keeping it far from the other and he pushes into you, maybe too fast.

The gasp that escapes your lungs is sharp and long, your eyes squeeze shut and he mirrors your drawn brows.

“I know, I know.” He comforts. “Breathe. There you go, just like that, my girl.”

His girl.

Toes are curled into the sheets. Maybe it’s because you haven’t done this in a while, or maybe because he’s so…big. You hide in his neck, chest heaving, fingers gripping his hair in hopes of relieving the pressure.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, trying to get you to look at him.

“I just- ah, I need a second. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for things.” He grunts in your ear. “We could stay like this for an hour, if that’s what you need.”

With the slight adjustment of your hips under him, you breathe out. “I-I’m okay, please, do something.”

Your normally soft voice has gained an octave, it’s bordering a whine, pinched and breathless and oh so desperate. And just like that, he slowly drags out and back in and it’s the best feeling he has ever known, better than the relief that comes after the electric shock stops.

He’s courteous, he’s gentle and slow and it’s soothing to the burn between your legs, all the way up until you get comfortable and needy for more.

Holding his jaw, you kiss him deeper, with no concern for how messy it is.

“More, please.” You say into his open mouth.

“So polite.” He teases, moving a hand up to your hip.

You choke on your inhale as he quickens his pace, driving into you in such a vulgar way, you’re threatening to arch off the mattress. But he holds you down and you take it, you take it as well as he knew you would, with nails digging into his back.

“Oh- like this. Ah, James, it’s so good.” You say, slack jawed and whiney.

You sound perfect, because you sound like this just for him. He has to grunt with a face of contortion.

“It’s because you take it so well, such a good girl.”

You blush violently at the moan that you let out, and from the way you flutter around him, he has a feeling you like the name you don’t get called often.

He might not 100% remember doing things like this, but he figures it out perfectly, encouraging you to tell him what you want and how you want it. But you’re so shy. He’s practically buried in your cervix, and you’re acting shy.

He laughs at you.

“You’re too sweet.” Is what he comments before making it his mission to figure out what it is exactly that you want.

That unserious and unspoken thought that you had to be a little crazy in order for you to be so perfect, it might just be true. Because Bucky sits back on his knees and grabs your hips, pulling them up to match the way he thrusts deeply into you, and you love it.

You love it so much, you curse and he gains a look of surprise.

His angel girl is writhing and cursing.

“Fuck, I think you’re in my stomach.” You laugh, you laugh. He’s fucking you in a way soft lovers would cringe at, and you’re laughing with pleasure.

You’re perfect.

Bucky doesn’t even know if he’s fully conscious anymore, he has to be, right? It’s not guaranteed with the haze in his head and the film over his eyes and the voice that whispers over and over.

Take, take, take. It says.

брать, брать, брать.

It sounds good in both languages.

Almost as good as the sound of you practically shouting praise. Maybe it’s intense for the first time, but nothing about this relationship was going to be subtle and calm.

You don’t want it to be.

That knot forms in your stomach, it shoots heat everywhere, your heart beats so loud you’re convinced he can hear it. Your back will ache from the way it’s arched, but it all feels too good to be a concern.

“I’m getting close.” You cry, legs shaking around him, hand over your mouth.

He leans back over you and takes the hand away, caging it to the pillow, under his.

“I want to hear you. I want to hear the noise you make when you come for me.” He tells you, hot breath mixing with yours.

You nod, wide eyes, aimed to please.

Bucky’s fingers curl with yours and that’s how he keeps your hand while the your other is damaging the skin of his back. He is no stranger to pain, and the fact you don’t mean to inflict it has his lips on your throat. His teeth graze the skin, like he’s the wolf ready to rip it apart. When he does bite the skin and you jolt at the feeling, you can only assume it’s a tic that he comes with.

His tongue presses to ease any discomfort, and hips are heavy into yours as he drives you to the point of breaking apart.

It’s high pitched and sob like, how you cry and tense against him. That hand squeezes his to ground yourself, and your head tips back, pressed into the pillow, and you lose it.

He watches in amazement and that voice is so pleased.

Mine, mine, mine.

It all pushes him overboard.

He does his best to work you through it, then he’s pulling out too fast and fisting himself to finish the job, painting across your stomach and he can’t look away.

You mourn the loss of contact, but far too overwhelmed to do anything about it. You look at him with blurry eyes, hot tears have leaked into your hair and he’s looking at the way his spend lays across your skin.

Then, deep blue eyes flick back up to yours and he’s….proud.

“You with me?” He asks in a husky tone.

You nod with a heavy head.

That’s when he finally lets go of your hand, moving to rub your cheek before he grips your jaw. Not tight, nothing to hurt you, but he grips it and your swollen lips part.

“It’s you and me now. You’re mine, do you understand?”

You shouldn’t love the sound of that but you do. So you nod, eyes heavy, skin aflame. He wipes tears, kissing you sweet and like he’s following orders, he cleans you up wordlessly.

Later, he’ll watch you sleep because you can’t fight it anymore, and he’ll know that feeling in his chest has settled. He’s a ghost with a home now, he’ll stay because you invited him in.

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

[nofingjustaninchident]

Helloo!!! im in such a Jason Grace era these days and fics for him are SO limited in the fandom?? its actually super sad. i loved your previous jason fic smm, Would you consider making a Jason x fem!reader where Jason just has a veryy bad day, he gets overwhelmed by everything and everyone, and he just cries into reader's arms and she comforts him?

i feel like he deserved to just cry it all out atleast once, considering the amount of pressure the poor boy has had from everything :( so i would lovee to read about that!

⛧° as long as we're together °⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace x fem!reader

warnings: angst but then it’s fluff, kinda short, cursing, 5’3 (1,60m) reader, life in New Rome!

a/n: HA LOOK WHO’S POSTING TWICE IN JUST ONE DAY???? hehehe i love this request so much my boo deserves more in his life i don’t fucking care.

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

Sometimes it’s just too hard to be Jason Grace.

The mighty son of Jupiter. Pontifex Maximus. Counselor of the Zeus cabin. Juno’s Champion. Hero of Omlympus. Centurion of the Fifth Cohoort.

The titles were endless. And so was the work.

And everyone, and i mean everyone, counted on him for various things and reasons.

“Hey Jason, are you coming to capture the flag?” Annabeth asked, every week.

“Hey superman, come to bunker 9!” As always, Leo wanting to show him some new cool tricks or projects.

“Oi, sparky! Can you help me pick an outfit for my date?” Piper would ask him.

He was just so tired. He just wanted to tell them all to fuck themselves.

But he would never. He was too noble to do that. He just wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he knew his friends were needing him and he was… well, being a human and an young adult, taking care of his own stuff.

So when he got home from another endless day, back to his shared apartment in New Rome and to his beautiful girlfriend, who made him his favorite dessert - brownies with caramel and peanuts -, he broke down almost instantly.

Obviously, you ran towards him, scooping him in your arms - which was a difficult task, since he was almost a whole foot taller than you - but you did it anyways, pulling him close to your body, letting him sob in your shoulder as you tried to soothe him.

You had never seen him cry like that, clinging on you for dears life. Once again, he was never one to show his real feelings to anyone, not even your or Thalia.

You scooted him in your arms, rubbing soft circles at his back while you whispered small ‘shh’s and ‘it’s gonna be okay’s in his ear, the both of you say in the floor of your cozy apartment.

After a few minutes of compulsive crying, your shoulder and the upper part of your white tank top completely soaked in hot, wet tears, he finally calmed down - at least a little.

“Hey, honey.” You finally whisper into his ear as he pulls away from your embrace, eyes all puffy and red as he sniffles and wipes his tears with the back of his hand.

“Hey..” He mumbles, his tone low and cracked as you kept caressing his hair smoothly. You caressed his hair and gave a soft and gentle kiss so his cheek.

“Are you okay?” You were answered with a soft nod of his head as he scooted closer to you, snuggling against you warm body and keeping his head on your chest. He looked like a five year old child, and that made you smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.. not now. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice all mushy and muffled by his cheek tightly pressed against you body.

“Of course it is, my love. Do you want to eat? We have pasta with that sauce you like.” She said between little kisses in his eyes, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose and his lips. “And i made you your favorite brownies.”

“Mmhmm…” He let out a content mumble, finally pulling away from him and giving you a kiss on the lips. “After that i… after that i’ll talk to you, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay. But you have to eat before. Come on, i’ll help you get up.” She said as she got up and held out her hand for him to grab.

You finally got on your feet, and you turned around to reheat the food. When you were at the oven, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing heavily as he kept the closest he could to you.

Soon, the food was on the table, and the doorbell rang. It was the girl that walked with your dog. You thanked her and pulled Thor, your golden retriever, inside the house.

He immediately went to Jason, wiggling his tail and giving him the biggest licks in the world while the blond laughed.

You smiled at the sight. You knew that he was obviously hurting with something, and you were going to discover with what, but, right now, he just needed some love.

You gave him just that, as you ate together chilling and chatting about your days, you talking more than him.

He helped you with the laundry while you washed the dishes, and the chores were finished very quickly. You went back and cuddled up on the couch, a massive ball of fur, aka your dog, resting comfortably between you two.

You heard when Jason sighed and felt his shoulders shaking, showing his impending collapse, once again. You cyy it deles him closer to you as he cried and cried. His sobs were the only thing heard in the house.

Ten minutes later, when he was calmer, you were stroking his hair in the softest way you could, making sure he would be ready to talk.

“I-i’m just so… tired. Of everything and everyone. It’s- i know it’s selfish, but i can’t help but want to just… ran away. To just stay with you and Thor and give up on the rest of the world.” He said, his words are muffled and smudgy as he holds onto you.

“I know, baby… You shouldn’t work yourself out. You’re doing too much. More than you should, and you know that. You have too much work.” She said, kissing the top of his head.

“I just- i can’t let them just, you know, alone. It’s.. i can’t.” The son of Jupiter said, crying more.

“Honey, they won’t be alone. We have Reyna and Frank and Percy and lots of other people that you can use some help from. You’re not alone. Ever.” She said, reassuringly.

“But-“

“No buts. You’re gonna take a week off, and we’re just gonna hang out here, together, with Thor. No works, no college, no Pontifex Maximus stuff. Just y/n and Jason. And that’s not a request.”

He mumbles something but snuggles closer to you. “Fine. As long as we’re together.”

a/n: i’m literally so proud of myself bro, i got to do two, TWO works today. i’m evolving boos

[leiawritesstories]

Best Dream Ever

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 3: Idiots in Love @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: some swearing, alcohol, ridiculous amounts of fluff

Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why the hell is someone knocking on my door at eight p.m.? Aelin grumbled to herself as she reluctantly walked to her front door, wine glass in hand. It had been a heck of a work week, and she was a grown woman who was entitled to her post-work drink. She rose up onto her tiptoes to look through the glass panes near the top of the door and did a double take when she found her neighbor from down the street standing on her porch, looking for all the world like he was about to bolt. 

“Rowan?” She opened the door. “You alright?” 

He ducked into her house, pushed the door closed, and looked frantically out the window, chest heaving like he was afraid for his life. “I am now, I think.” 

She raised a brow. “Look, I know we’re neighbors and friends and all that, but seriously. What the hell?” 

He held up his hands. “I’m sorry, Ae, I really am. I texted you like fifteen times.” 

“Ah, shit.” She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it in front of him. “Dead, I’m sorry. Ran out of battery on the way home from work and honestly haven’t wanted to charge it.” 

“Fair enough.” He walked beside her down the hallway to her living room and flopped down on the couch he liked, groaning in relief when his head hit the throw pillows. 

“Long week for you too?” 

He grumbled something incomprehensible and moved the pillow off of his face. “Have you ever had six adult men show up at your door armed with gods-only-know how much booze and zero warning and proceed to set up shop in your house?” 

“Can’t say I have,” she drawled. 

“Wouldn’t recommend.” He raked his hands through his messy, pale hair. “I made the mistake of telling the guys that I got that deal with the MLB team, and they apparently decided that this was their sign to come into town and crash my weekend. Seems like I ‘don’t celebrate right,’ whatever the fuck that means.” 

Aelin hid her smile behind her wine. “Which one of the twins said that?” 

“Fen, of fucking course,” Rowan said dryly. “Who else d’you think could convince all the guys to drop everything and converge on my house for a weekend? We’re not in college anymore, not like he understands that.” 

“I’m sure he’ll come around eventually,” Aelin offered. “For now, though, you know you always have a place here. Just…you don’t need to crash for the night, do you?” 

Pink tinged Rowan’s cheeks, and he slipped his backpack off of his shoulders. “Well, now that you mention it…” 

She laughed and stood up. “You know where the spare room is, Ro. Want a beer or something?” 

“Sounds fuckin’ amazing.” He went down the hall to drop off his bag in her spare room and returned a few minutes later in sweatpants and an old university t-shirt. Gratefully, he took the beer bottle from her hand and tipped half its contents down his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

“It’s from the case of ‘good stuff’ you dumped in my garage three weeks ago,” Aelin said, pairing her words with a poke to his side. “Quit using me as your beer overflow, Whitethorn.” 

“Who else could I trust not to drink it?” he grinned, slinging one arm around her shoulders. “If I let one of the guys keep it at their place, it’d be gone in a day, never mind that it’s a small batch craft brew that needs at least thirty-two hours of chilling before you can really get the tasting notes.” 

“Snob,” she teased, turquoise eyes sparkling with laughter. 

He smirked. “It’s called good taste, Ae, and you—” 

A fist thudded rapidly against Aelin’s front door. 

She looked at Rowan, and he looked back at her, eyes wide. “Please don’t let them in,” he whispered, and he took off down the hall to hide in the spare room. 

“Men,” she sighed. She strolled down the hallway, peered out the window, and cracked open her door just a few inches. “What the hell do you want, Moon Moon?” 

Grinning broadly and probably tipsily, Fenrys tried to lean on her doorframe and stumbled sideways before regaining his balance. “Where’s Rowie?” 

Aelin fixed the blonde man with a flat, unimpressed look. “Ask me in normal-people words, Fenny boy.” 

Fenrys inhaled dramatically. “My dear darling Aelin, have you seen Rowan lately? We came to his place to celebrate him getting the MLB deal, but we’d barely been there for an hour before he said he needed to grab something from the store. Haven’t seen the guy since.” 

“Does this look like the store, Moon Moon?” she deadpanned. 

“Nobody thought he was actually going to the store!” Fen protested. He tried to push open her door, but she clicked her tongue and fixed him with a look that made him stop in his tracks. 

“Fen, you’re a good friend, but this is my first work-free weekend in months, and if I have to miss any more of 10 Things I Hate About You, I will eviscerate you with my work heels. Okay?” 

“Leaving!” he yelped. “Text us if you know where Rowan is, though, yeah?” 

“You’re the ones at his place, you can text him,” she returned. “Goodnight, Moon Moon. Don’t fall off any rooftops again.” 

“It was one time!” he yelled, but she’d already closed the door. 

Aelin went back down to her living room, plopped onto the couch, and grumbled something rather unpleasant about the amount of men who banged on her door at all hours of the day. “Coast is clear, Whitethorn,” she called. 

He came back into the living room a minute later. “Thanks for handling him, Ae.” 

“Anything for a little bit of peace, right?” His huff of a laugh tugged at a thread low in her stomach, but she ignored the odd sensation. “Let me know if you need anything that you can’t find. I’m gonna go upstairs and watch brain-rotting chick flicks until I fall asleep, but you’re more than free to watch one of those docuseries you have such a hard-on for.” 

“Aelin!” Rowan’s face reddened, and he choked out her name in a shocked, strangled cough. “Gods, why’d you have to say it like that?” 

“Because you’re too cute when you’re all flustered, buzzard,” she laughed. “G’night!” She headed upstairs to her bathroom, and after a very long shower and a solid half hour of carefully applying her skincare, she tugged one of her favorite nightgowns over her head and rolled into her bed. She could pick up the faint sounds of water running in the guest bathroom down the hall, and coupled with the soft whir of her ceiling fan, she was soon asleep. 

Only to pop awake not quite three hours later. 

Groaning, she rolled onto her other side and closed her eyes, taking deep steady breaths to try and encourage her restless mind to quiet down. As soon as she managed to quiet her roiling mind, though, her stomach rumbled. 

Traitor. 

Aelin flopped onto her stomach and ignored the growly rumble it emitted in protest, but the more she tried to fall back asleep, the more her body resisted. Finally, in defeat, she muttered a string of curses under her breath and rolled out of bed. She pushed her feet into her slippers, flicked on her bedside lamp, and crept out of her room and down the hall. She took the stairs slowly, because at least half of them creaked loud enough to wake the whole street if stepped on too firmly, but she eventually made it out to the kitchen. The glowing numbers on the oven clock flashed 1:55, taunting her with the ridiculous hour. 

Quietly, Aelin pulled open the pantry door, scanning the shelves quickly and finding nothing that sounded particularly good. She moved over to the fridge and glanced inside, huffing in irritation when she didn’t immediately think of anything quick to grab. After a few minutes, she gave up and opened the freezer, her fingers closing around the pint carton of ice cream tucked into the door shelf. She got a spoon from the drawer and sat down at one of the barstools at the high-top counter, not bothering with a bowl. 

She was only a few bites into the deliciously rich triple chocolate when heavier footsteps creaked on the stairs and a very sleepy, very mussed Rowan half-stumbled into the kitchen. 

His bleary gaze wandered around the kitchen, skipping over her once before snapping back to where she sat with her ice cream. The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he mumbled unintelligibly to himself. “Don’t fall over,” she heard him mumble, and he slid his hand along the countertop to guide his steps as he crossed the kitchen. Straight over to her. 

“Hey, you.” She couldn’t be entirely sure whether he was awake or sleepwalking, so she left her spoon in the carton of ice cream and stood up. “Having a good dream, Ro?” 

“’Bout to get even better.” His arms looped around her waist, and he dipped his head and kissed her. A soft hitched gasp broke from her lips, and she slid one hand up the back of his neck into his messy hair and angled his face so she could kiss him properly. It was a long, drawn-out moment before he pulled back, head tilted back to catch a gulping breath, and his eyes snapped back to hers, clear and aware. “Best dream ever.” 

She blinked slowly. “Ro, are you asleep?” 

“I gotta be.” He passed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “It’s the only time I get to kiss you like this, Ae.” 

“Rowan,” she breathed, heart skipping in her chest. “I…I’m awake.” 

His jaw went slack, and he impulsively grabbed her hand. “Pinch me.” 

“What?” 

“Pinch me, Ae. Gotta know if I’m still dreaming.” Obligingly, she pinched the skin at the crease of his elbow, and he let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak. “Fuck, that—am I awake?” 

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes traveled slowly downwards, until they landed on their linked hands. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came down for midnight ice cream.” Uncertainty clouded his face, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s better.” 

Hope, bright and buoyant, broke free in his grin. “Really?” 

“Really.” She closed the distance between them, rolled up onto her tiptoes to meet his lips. “I think I’ve had this dream before, but it’s better in real life.” And she kissed him.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

[zombiewhor3]

i was wondering if you could make a rick grimes x reader fluff! <33

A FAMILY?

rick grimes x fem reader (season 5 era)

WARNINGS: reader has slight baby fever, young Judith, Alexandria era, cuddly Rick, soft reader/Rick, really just some fluffy stuff,

a/n: sorry for not posting my break ended so i had to go back to school and it's been hectic making up assignments and trying to get everything back in order, i've also been sick all week so enjoy this fluffy request while i try and catch up on more posts and stories to make up for the time i have been gone !!

she hummed softly as she lifted the once whining Judith into her arms, now she was happy as a clam and babbling while she carried a stuffed toy in her hand, y/n smiled as she looked over at the still sleeping Rick who just looked to damn peaceful to wake.

She sat with Judith while pulling off a story book Daryl had found on one of the runs thinking that maybe Judith would've liked it and sure as hell she did, her eyes brightened each time she looked at the bright colored pages and the illustrations, her hand ran over the bunnies that were drawn out on the page.

the light coffee colored pages had small paragraphs of words printed in black ink and a pretty font that y/n had started to read aloud to her, Judith sat back in her arms holding onto the bunny she had while she was focused on the book.

she was just a little over a year old so she was so focused on touching and exploring everything around her, she giggled hearing y/n say the words peter rabbit to her with a bright smile on her face.

Rick had heard the giggle as he flipped around flickering his eyes open to see the two sitting on the love seat in the room, he smiled so bright he thought he was going to explode.

"morning sunshines" he spoke covering himself in the white bed-sheets watching as y/n looked up at him, his daughter to focused on the book to even such as look up at him.

"morning sheriff" y/n teased sitting up with Judith in her arms and placing her down against the bed, she had thought about her own kid with Rick, she thought about giving a sibling to Carl and Judith.

she simply just wanted a family with rick, "what are you thinking about? i can the gears in your brain turning" rick asked propping Judith up against his chest as she fiddled with the book happily content with the pages she couldn't read yet.

"just a family" she spoke rubbing some of Judith's blonde hair from her face while she smiled softly, "the one we have now with all our friends or the family with Judith and Carl?" Rick asked while he rubbed his thumb in circles over the soft skin of her thigh.

"i mean the second one yes, but a new addition to the family would be a better way to put it i guess" she admitted looking down at his hand still rubbing small circles on her.

"like a baby? like Judith?" he asked watching her nod her head she knew it was stupid, she knew it was reckless but somehow someway she just wanted it so damn bad.

"tell you what if things blow over well in the next few months i will give you a baby, hell i'll give you as many as you want" he spoke with a smug smile and a wink referring to the baby making part.

"one little angel will do"

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Calling all enjoyers of the OrangeJuiceVerse and teenage shenanigans!

That’s right, it’s time for another episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE, and this one is SO self indulgent like I know that’s the purpose of this series, just self indulgent orange flavored bonus content, but this one, mannnnn.

Essentially (PCE stfu about OJV Kyle’s bad knee), I was thinking about how i really didn’t let my annoying ass get into the gang as 15 year olds very much post A Fall In The Springtime. So I wanted to explore that dynamic a little more, featuring stupid fights, getting scolded by your parents, Kyle being an angry little fucker, and the way one person in a friend group getting sick means everyone’s getting the plague lmao. Set a couple days after AFITS, here’s

•Fuck It, We Ball•

Stan sighed as he approached the bus stop, Cartman and Kyle already engrossed in whatever they were arguing about now. And so it begins.

He planted himself at Kenny’s side, kicking at the slush that had refrozen with the temperature dropping again over the last few days. Damn March and its unpredictability. “Dude, how do they have the energy for this at seven in the morning?”

“Oh, you know how these two get when they’re bored,” Kenny said nonchalantly. “Probably why Ky suggested takin’ the bus today.”

That made sense. While Stan and the others had taken to making their own ways to school being sophomores, carpooling and the like for the most part, occasionally they’d all load up on the bus for nostalgia’s sake on days nobody had to stay late for extracurriculars. Kyle had been leading the charge in that the past couple weeks, bored being out of basketball and irritable while his knee healed. It honestly wasn’t surprising that he’d find excitement in the childhood routine of debating Cartman, and Cartman just liked to rile Kyle up in general, not that it was hard these days. Stan had laughed his ass off just the other day at his boyfriend’s claim that he was “drowning in ennui”. Dramatic, but warranted.

“IT WAS STUPID WHEN WE WERE NINE, AND IT’S MORE RIDICULOUS NOW!” Stan’s attention was drawn to his boyfriend’s shrill screeching. “BEING GINGER IS NOT LIKE BEING A VAMPIRE!”

Cartman was grinning in a very self satisfied way. “You burn in the sun, you’re creepy, you suck souls…”

“YOU’RE SO GODDAMN STUPID!!!”

Kyle, directly ensnared in their friend’s trap, moved to swing at him with a crutch, but overshot and was slipping forward, slamming into the ground with a loud “FUCK!”

Stan, Kenny, and even Cartman froze, eyes wide and speechless because Kyle was already hurt; slipping on the ice like that had no doubt made it worse. Kyle curled into the fetal position, clutching his bad knee and cursing up a storm. Stan ran to him in an instant.

“Dude, shit, okay, okay. Fuck, did you hit it?”

“What the HELL do you think,” Kyle hissed, writhing a little in the snow. He’d only recently been able to bend his knee semi-normally again, only with support, and here he was holding it to his chest in a way that definitely couldn’t be comfortable.

“S-Stan, I… GOD, FUCK YOU CARTMAN!!!”

That back and forth was always a good indicator of Kyle’s level of aggravation. He was extremely quick when he was upset enough. Less aggressive on his own, Stan jumped to his partner’s defense without hesitation.

“Why the shit would you work him up like that, huh?!?” Stan demanded, taking their obnoxious friend by the collar of his coat. He gave him a shake, not enough to actually hurt, but Cartman still whined like a pitiful little creature. “He can’t fight anyone yet! He can’t even stand!”

Kyle dragged himself a little down the ice. “I can buttfucking stand! Dramaticfuckass-“

He crumpled under the weight of his own body. Stan caught his neck before his head could whack the ice. “Dude!”

“I’m going to obliterate you,” Kyle warned.

Stan wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t dare. Instead, he gently scooped Kyle into his arms, relieved when he felt wiry arms latch instinctually around his neck. He turned to the other two as he rose. “Grab his shit.”

Thankfully, Kyle’s house was the closest to the bus stop, and under the rapid pounding of his own heart, Stan could hear Kyle’s pissed off mumbling and sporadic whimpers of pain.

“I’m trying to be careful, dude,” he promised. “I know it’s still hurting.”

“Yeah, because some FAT ASSHOLE made me FALL!” Kyle seethed in Cartman’s direction.

“Ay! You’re the one who was trying to hit me, JewBot!”

Stan spun around to shoot Cartman a glare. “You started it and you know it, fuckknob. Give the backpack to Kenny and fuck off to school if you’re gonna keep causing problems.”

Cartman snorted. “I would, but Kahl’s bitch mom is going to pitch a fit and I happen to find that shit funny, obviously.”

“DON’T CALL MY MOM A BITCH!”

Ohhhh boy. It was definitely too early for all this. Kenny bounded up to the porch, using Kyle’s crutches to knock on the front door. “Guys, tone it down,” he advised before turning the knob. Nobody really locked their doors around here, and they all knew it.

“Yo, Mrs B!” Kenny announced their presence as the boys filed into the foyer.

Only Kyle’s mom would be home around this time, Stan knew. Ike usually rode to his early college high school program with their dad, since it was closer to Gerald’s firm. Sheila tended to fill her days with community meetings and clubs and volunteer work, but she usually stuck around the house until the rest of the family was safely at school and work, ruling the group chat with an iron fist. A veritable lioness when it came to her boys, that one.

Which was why her alarmed gasp upon seeing her eldest son glowering in Stan’s arms wasn’t surprising in the slightest.

“Kyle! Boys! What on earth happened?!”

“He slipped on the ice,” Stan explained, gingerly easing him down onto the couch. “Bashed his knee pretty good.”

Sheila let out a “WHAT?!?”, and Kyle groaned, clearly already done with his mother. “Ma, please don’t freak out. I just need to put it up a few hours or whatever, it’s fine.”

She planted her hands on her hips and stared each of the boys down like only a mother could. Cartman actually cowered a little, avoiding eye contact.

“And just how did you fall, huh, bubbeh?” She demanded of her son. “I thought I told you to be careful.”

Stan hated having to do damage control, but Sheila trusted him, so he was probably the best bet at the guys avoiding too much trouble. “He and Cartman were just arguing. You know how carried away they can get.”

“Don’t look at me, Mrs Broflovski,” Cartman said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Kahl tried to whack me! It’s not my fault his little bird bones gave out.”

“SHUT UP CARTMAN!”

“Kyle!” Sheila scolded. “Inside voices! And how many times do I have to tell you boys not to roughhouse when it’s slippery outside?”

All four of them mumbled varying apologies, even though he and Kenny hadn’t been involved. Kyle’s mom kept raving.

“And here I was about to head out the door! Oy, I’ll have to tell the book club ladies I won’t make it to brunch, and goodness! The PTA meeting will need to be rescheduled, and I suppose I’ll have to put out a grocery order for delivery and miss the deals I’d get going myself-“

“Ma,” Kyle interrupted, even more overwhelmed than he had been. “You don’t need to change your plans or anything. I know you have a full day.”

“You can’t just stay home alone! What if you’ve hurt your knee worse?!”

Stan could tell his boyfriend wanted to roll his eyes. “It really isn’t a big deal, okay? And I’m not alone. The guys can help me if I need anything.”

Kenny had already taken to removing Kyle’s hat for him and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Yeah, we got ‘im, scout’s honor.”

“The hippie would probably stay anyway,” Cartman pointed out. He had migrated to the kitchen and was rifling through the freezer, hopefully for an ice pack and not to raid the snacks.

Well, as much as Cartman was a dick, he wasn’t wrong. Stan had no intention of leaving Kyle’s side.

Kyle’s mom pursed her lips and checked her watch. Stan could practically see her internal conflict: would she deviate from her carefully curated schedule to stay home and smother her son, or would she let four teenage boys skip school and hang out in her living room? He turned on his best “charming and trustworthy” face; he usually had good luck with adults.

Sheila sighed, and Stan felt disproportionately victorious. The woman was even more expressive than Kyle was. Clearly, the gang was about to get a day off class with no grown up supervision. Yes!

“Fine,” she relented. “But only because I’m already running late. I’ll see if I can get all four of you an excused absence.”

That definitely wasn’t going to be an issue. Principal Charles would just love the idea of them practicing “wholesome male friendship and emotional support” and all that. If that wasn’t the conclusion the principal came to on his own, Cartman was a master manipulator and could talk himself, and the rest of them by extension, out of trouble.

Sheila grabbed her purse and bent down to kiss her son’s forehead, leaving a lipstick mark. “You’re a little warm, Kyle, do you feel-“

“Ma, I was wearing a hat,” Kyle groaned. “Please give the worrying a rest.”

“Fine, fine,” she clucked, shaking her head. “You boys just behave, do you hear me? And Stanley, you call me if I need to come home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When the door shut behind her, Kyle groaned yet again, dramatically throwing his arms over his eyes. “I swear to God, she’s gonna be fussing over me like I’m a kid until the end of time.”

“Totally weak,” Cartman agreed.

“She just gets concerned about you,” Kenny reminded him. “I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t have a reason.”

Stan almost expected Kyle to fly into a rage at that, but he just sighed. “Can’t wait to be done with the goddamn crutches so she can chill the fuck out.”

Yeah, Sheila Broflovski ever chilling the fuck out was probably about as likely as Randy sobering up. Not gonna happen. And Kyle had gotten more than just the hair, nose, and height from his mother; he’d also gotten her temper, so Stan chose to let him believe she’d let up once he could walk.

“Ha! That’ll be the day,” Cartman laughed as he turned away from the freezer, ice pack in one hand and a popsicle in the other.

Stan caught the pack easily when it was tossed his way, ignoring their resident troublemaker in favor of getting his super best boyfriend’s leg elevated better. “This okay, baby?”

“Yeah, it-“ Kyle cut off with a wince. “Doesn’t hurt as bad as it did at first.”

“Still hurts, though?”

“I mean, it never really stopped hurting,” Kyle said with a shrug. “Not all the way.”

Stan had done his research after his partner first messed up his leg. What the basketball coach guessed was a sprain turned out to be a hyperextended knee and partial meniscus tear, straining the outside ligament and everything. Not an injury that required surgery, since Kyle was young and relatively healthy, but he wasn’t supposed to put any weight on it at all for a full month, was supposed to be taking anti inflammatories and painkillers. Kyle tried to downplay it, sick of being out of commission, but Stan maintained that it caused him more trouble than he admitted.

Kenny hopped up from where he’d been perched on the arm of the couch. “Where’s your drugs? I gotcha.”

“I don’t need-“

“Nightstand,” Stan interrupted. Kyle wasn’t about to weasel his way out of medication. Kenny bounded up the stairs as Kyle angrily unzipped his coat and threw it in the general direction of the jacket hooks.

“Dude, I don’t want the fucking painkillers.”

Cartman snorted from his position on the floor, where he’d claimed control of the remote and was looking for trashy reality tv. “You’ve been on crutches for weeks and you still can’t walk, you dumb bitch. Take the goddamn pills if you hurt. That’s like, common sense.”

“You wouldn’t know common sense if it bit you in the fat ass.”

As much as Stan hated to agree with Cartman, he did have a point. “Kyle, please don’t be difficult about this. We’re just trying to help.”

Kyle scowled and crossed his arms. “You can help by getting off my case. I swear, you guys are as bad as my mother.”

“No can do, firefox,” Kenny re entered the living room, holding the orange vial of painkillers aloft. “Consider us on your case like white on rice. This bottle should not still be this full.”

“Let me see that.” Stan confirmed that it was pretty obvious that Kyle had been slacking on the meds. “Dude, c’mon. Have you not been taking these?”

“I took them “as directed” or whatever the first week,” Kyle protested. “I don’t like how they make me all foggy and tired!”

Stan fought the urge to groan. “Baby, you’re literally in pain. Your leg’s gonna hurt if you don’t treat the symptoms.” He didn’t add that the fact that Kyle had been hurting and doing nothing about it had definitely played in to his irritability. He knelt down and took Kyle’s hand. “Will you just take one? For me? Your pain is my pain.”

Cartman mimed throwing up. “Jesus Christ, you fucking simp! What is this, a shitty fanfiction?!”

“SHUT UP, CARTMAN,” Kyle snapped. Then his eyes met Stan’s, and his anger dissipated some. “Damnit, Staniel. Don’t give me the face! You look like a sad puppy and- ugh, fucking fine, but if anyone draws dicks on my face while I’m taking a damn high ass nap, I’m kicking the ass of everyone in this room.”

A threat not to be taken lightly, even with Kyle’s current physical limitations. Small, injured, about to nod off from the pill he’d swallowed while he was talking, but vicious.

“No dicks, promise,” Kenny said with a hand over his heart.

“Yeah, we all know the only dick you want on your face is Stan’s-“ Cartman was cut off by a throw pillow flung in his direction. “Fine! Geez, I won’t fuck with you.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Stan offered.

Cartman rolled his eyes and went back to flipping through daytime television. “I hate your gay ass, I’m so seriously.”

———

There was only so much Real Housewives the boys could take before it got old. And Stan really didn’t give a shit what the Kardashians were up to. Even Cartman had gotten restless after a few hours, corralling Kenny out the back door to throw chunks of ice against the fence.

Kyle was still sleeping through all of it, though his sleep looked far from peaceful. Kyle didn’t usually sleep well in general, and lying in an uncomfortable position on the couch with his face tight even in sleep, he looked to be struggling. Nightmares, probably, made even weirder than normal by the drugs making him sleep harder than he usually did.

Stan didn’t have the heart to wake him up, instead just in his lookout post on the floor next to the couch. He switched the channel to National Geographic and turned the sound off, letting his head fall back next to his boyfriend’s.

He couldn’t have been asleep long, before being jolted awake by a thump and a muttered “god damnit”.

Adjusting to the dim light of the living room, Stan landed on Kyle, who had apparently walked into the doorframe in his post nap confusion. He was immediately up and darting his way.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be using your crutches! Where’re you going?”

Kyle grumbled and rubbed at his leg. “I’m running the Boston Marathon, what does it look like? I’m on a piss quest, Stanathan.”

Stan swung an arm around him for support, helping him hobble down the hall. “For fucks sake, Ky, you’re gonna hurt yourself walking around like this.”

“Didn’t think about it,” Kyle argued. “I told you the pills make me all groggy.”

They stopped at the bathroom. “Can you make it?”

Kyle hopped through and shut the door. “I’m not helpless.”

Stan leaned against the wall, trying not to laugh at the frustrated look he’d flashed. “You have a good nap, at least?”

“Had a dream I was in a wheat field.”

“A wheat field?”

“Yeah.” He heard the toilet flush and the faucet start up. “We were trying to invade a kingdom of giants with a marching band. And then I was in my car and all the tires exploded. Pedro Pascal was there.”

Steadying his boyfriend on his way back into the hall, Stan chuckled. “The Mandolorian slashed your tires?”

“Apparently.”

Heat was radiating from Kyle like a furnace. Not that he didn’t usually run warm, especially when he slept, but even Sheila had noticed earlier. Stan helped him down onto the couch and rested the back of his hand on Kyle’s face, checking for fever.

“Dude, do you feel okay? You look kinda pale, and you’re hot.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Jesus, not you too. I’m fine. I can’t be sick on top of everything else, you just worry too much.”

That wasn’t how it worked, but okay. Kenny and Cartman came barging in the kitchen door, shaking ice from their shoes in a haphazard way that a certain matriarch wouldn’t appreciate.

“I need some fucking hot chocolate!” Cartman declared, Kenny letting out a muffled agreement through his scarf before unwinding it.

“Guys,” Stan started, “have you been sick at all the past week? Like, fever, dizziness, anything?”

Kenny shrugged. “I had the sniffles a couple days ago, that’s it.”

“I don’t get sick,” Cartman insisted. “My immune system is superior. Oh, lame, you guys! Is Kahl infected with some disease now too? I mean, more than just his default.”

Kyle moaned dramatically. “Please cut it out. I’m tired, assholes.”

Stan ignored him, at least until he had a chance to check for certain. “Ken, will you get the thermometer? Under the kitchen sink. I think I might’ve given you guys that cold I had over the weekend.”

“You got over that in like, two days,” Kyle pointed out.

“That was me. This is you. And if you’ll recall, I almost cracked my head open in your bedroom,” Stan reminded him.

“Because you’re a dick who tried to ignore it.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

Kyle opened his mouth to make some remark, and Kenny took the opportunity to shove the thermometer under his tongue. Kyle glared but didn’t yank it out, probably hoping to prove them all wrong.

“Ha!” Cartman was at least a little amused reading the screen. “Of course you’re sick. What, can’t handle a little seasonal bug like the rest of us?”

Moving to lunge off the couch, Kyle swung, not missing this time, but falling to the floor nonetheless. Cartman wailed like he’d just been stabbed.

“Did- did you guys see that?! Kahl totally got me in the eye! Oh, god, I’m blind! I’m suing your crippled ass!”

“Knock it off, Fatboy, you’re fine,” Kenny said tiredly. “Kyley, I think we should get you up to bed and call your mom.”

Stan was inclined to agree, not just because Kyle was definitely running a temperature now, but also because he’d just fallen for the second time in the span of a few hours, and there was no way even Kyle could deny how much that had to hurt. He scooted the coffee table out of the way to help him up.

“Okay, use the good side, I’ve got you.”

Kyle had gotten pretty graceful at using the pistol squat method to get up without putting weight on his bad knee over the past few weeks. He’d always been deceptively strong, even like now when he was sick and drawn, and Stan was just kind of there just in case he faltered.

“Don’t call my mom,” he pleaded. “It’s just a little fever. I can probably sleep it off.”

Well, considering his ridiculous stubbornness, Kyle could probably argue that illness going around right out of his body. “You can try, dude, but Sheila’s gonna be pissed I didn’t tell her.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kyle mumbled, accepting his crutches and letting Kenny and Stan accompany him to the stairs. “Will you guys stay?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Even Cartman?”

“Pshh, like I wanna stick around for the jew to get pissed off and try to kill me again.”

The guys knew Cartman well enough to know that was just his way of saying he didn’t want to be the reason Kyle got carried away and hurt himself, but they didn’t point that out.

“Then fuck off, fatass. Go manipulate the FBI or whatever you get up to,” Kyle said with another eyeroll.

Cartman snorted. “Eh, it’s still pretty early. Maybe I’ll start a cult or something.” He grinned mischievously. “See you assholes.”

Kenny flipped on the hall light. “I wonder what it is that he actually does in his spare time.”

“Something stupid or illegal.” Kyle groaned as he was helped into bed. “Or both.”

That sounded about right. Stan settled under the blankets next to him, Kenny having procured the cold meds still in the drawer from Stan having been sick. Stan read the pack carefully before handing Kyle a few capsules. “Here, dude. It’s the daytime shit. No acetaminophen or any of the crap that’ll fuck with your other drugs.”

“Thanks.”

Kyles massive “Ass Pro Shops” tumbler, a Kenny McCormick creation that was forever stationed on Kyle’s nightstand with its blue silicone straw, washed down the medicine before Kyle lied back with a sigh. He was clearly still in pain, and now feverish to top it off. “Have I mentioned yet that I’m really fucking annoyed?”

Kenny snorted, casually shooting the mini basketball into the hoop mounted on the closet door. “Darlin’, you’ve made that pretty clear.”

Stan wrapped him up in his arms, carefully, like his boyfriend might attack like a wounded animal. And here we see an injured fox, in his burrow, directly after fighting off the raccoon. He has allowed the continued company of the bear and the opossum, who continue to aid in his recovery. The rabbit often accompanies this ragtag group, though she would likely be unwilling to leave school, fearing both the agitated fox’s anger and a potential to be grounded.

Laughing at his mental nature documentary comparison was probably not in his best interest, lest Kyle assume he was being made fun of, so Stan just kissed his boyfriend’s flushed cheek. “You gonna be able to fall asleep again?”

Kyle snuggled closer. “Mm, if you keep holding me like this.”

Stan knew both he and Kenny would have to leave his side eventually. Kenny had basketball practice and Stan had off season football conditioning. He could get out of classes today, sure, but coach wasn’t about to ease up on him, not with Stan set to play first string in the fall. If South Park had one thing (other than cattle) to be proud of, it was high school sports.

Still, he’d savor this moment, getting to take care of him with Kenny for backup, and he’d probably cave and stay if Kyle asked.

———

The alarm clock on the nightstand flashed that it was almost three when Sheila poked her head in to whisper (or her version of it, at least), “boys!”

Uncharacteristically, Stan was the first to wake, followed by Kenny, who had curled up at the foot of the bed like a pet, while Kyle only moaned and rolled over.

“Yes ma’am?” Stan mumbled, rubbing his eyes and disoriented from their nap.

The matriarch planted her hands on her hips, one auburn brow arched in concern. “Is everything alright? Eric already left?”

“Mhm. A while ago. He went because he was making Ky mad again and they were trying to fight and we all didn’t want him to hurt himself more. It was Cartman’s decision.” Stan didn’t know why he was defending the dickhole who liked to mess with his favorite person. Maybe because Cartman had recently shown a few redeeming qualities, plus Stan felt bad in general about giving the guys his cold. “Kyle, he didn’t want us to call you, but he’s running a bit of a fever. Or, he was a few hours ago. We got some medicine in him, so hopefully it’s down.”

“WHAT WHAT WHAT?!”

Kyle sat up quickly, squeaking a little in his confusion. “Ma, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

She rushed over, immediately all over her son. “Oh, I knew it! I knew you were warm this morning! Call it a motha’s intuition, but I knew you’d caught what’s going around that school of yours!”

“He’s okay, Mrs. B,” Kenny cut in. “Stanny and I both got over it quick, and Cartman definitely had it but didn’t even complain, and you know how he is.”

Sheila sighed, hands still on the face of an absolutely peeved Kyle. “Oh, I suppose. I just, I worry! About all of you! And my poor baby is already hurt, I can’t imagine how miserable it must be-“

“Ma, please. I’m okay. Just let me go back to sleep.”

Turning to the other two, who had gotten up and were standing attentively like seven year olds in trouble, she offered a motherly smile. “Why don’t the two of you go down and make yourselves a snack?” She suggested. “You have to leave for your sports soon, right? Can’t go on an empty stomach!”

Kenny opened his mouth to protest, but Stan knew how Sheila’s mind operated. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, especially while she had already blustered into full caretaking mode at the mention of her child under the weather. She’d do that for all five of them, yeah, but as much as Kyle would kick his ass if he said it, Kyle had always been more prone to physical problems than the rest.

“Will do. Ken, sandwiches real quick and we head to the school?”

“Works for me, brother. Thank you, Mrs B.”

Sheila smiled tensely, trying to force feed Kyle the lukewarm water at his bedside. Stan reached around her to squeeze his hand. “Okay, dude?”

“I’m okay. Little plague and a fucked up leg can’t take me out.”

“Kyle, language!”

Stan had to laugh. “We left the thermometer downstairs,” he offered. “If you want to check again. We’ll be outa here in a sec.” He kissed the back of Kyle’s hand, noticing how glassy his eyes were, all the brighter in their fever flush. “Can I come check on you after?” He was asking both Kyle and his mother.

They answered in unison, which made Kenny laugh. “Aight, loverboy, let’s feed us so we don’t die during suicides.”

The irony wasn’t lost on either of them when they made it down the stairs into the kitchen. “Dude, I really hate the idea of leaving him alone.”

Kenny retrieved sandwich supplies eagerly from the fridge and cabinets. They all knew where everything was kept in each other’s houses.

“He’s not alone. Got his mama, and you know she’s leaping at the chance. Where do ya think Ky gets it?”

True. Both Kyle and Sheila shared that overbearing motherly quality. They thrived on caring for people.

Problem was, Kyle was a godawful patient, and Stan liked to coddle him in spite of the protests.

“Make me a pb&j, will you?” He asked Kenny. “I’m gonna heat up some soup for Ky. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, if he did have that.”

“He’s gonna get annoyed,” Kenny pointed out.

That was true, but still. “Dude, my boyfriend is hurt, sick, stubborn as fuck, and diabetic. I’m not letting his levels get messed up.”

Kenny laughed. “Just marry him already. You’d make a great overprotective husband.”

“Sick, man, we’re kids!”

“That has nothing to do with what I just said. I’m talkin’ future shit.”

Stan dumped a can of chicken noodle into the pot he’s grabbed. “You deadass said “already”. We’re sixteen and fifteen.”

“You’re still gonna be a good husband one day.” Kenny was building sandwiches, didn’t look up. “We call him a mom, but you’re absolutely the type of dad to be waiting on the porch with a shotgun if your daughter brings home a date. Not that your pacifistic ass would use it.”

That was true, guns were not his favorite. “Ken, knock it off.” He checked on the time. “Hey, drink some water. We should head out as soon as we eat.”

Canned soup was easy and quick enough to heat up, and Stan had it poured into a bowl with a few crackers on the side by the time Kenny had gotten sandwiches and drinks set up on the bar. “Gonna take this up to Ky, be right back.”

“Leaning into that knight in shining armor complex pretty hard today, huh?”

Stan flipped him off over his shoulder.

In Kyle’s room, Shiela was humming at a low volume, fussing with the covers and the washcloth she’d laid on his forehead. Kyle saw him first.

“Dudeeee,” he complained. “Tell Ma I’m okay and she doesn’t need to smother me.”

Laughing and setting the soup on the table, Stan leaned over to run his fingers through Kyle’s hair. “Sorry, but I’m on her side, dude.” He gave Sheila a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, I just, he was already getting pretty good rest and I didn’t want to rile him up-“

“Oh, believe me,” she said pointedly. “I know he’d have only worked himself up.”

“I’m right here!”

“See what I mean?” Sheila put on her all business face. “Bubbeh, Stanley and Kenny have to leave soon for practice.”

Kyle looked positively betrayed. “Dude, you’re actually leaving me?”

“You need more rest, baby. I can maybe come back and visit after conditioning?” Yeah, right. More than likely, his mom would veto any more company until Kyle was over the fever. “You need to eat and keep taking it easy.”

“Yes, sir,” Kyle grumbled sarcastically.

Stan suppressed another laugh and kissed the back of his hand again before turning to Sheila. “We’ll be out the door in a few minutes. I’ll ask before coming after.”

She nodded. “I think that would be best. Thank you for helping out today, Stan.”

“Definitely, dude.” Then he froze. He called his own mother dude, but he had never called Kyle’s mom that. Thankfully, she smiled fondly.

“You boys just put your dishes in the sink when you’re done. Have a good practice.”

Stan grinned and kissed Kyle again before heading back down. Kenny was halfway through his sandwich when he plopped down and snorted.

“Man, I totally just called Ky’s mother “dude”,” he commented.

Kenny giggled. “Only you, brother. Gotta tell ya, I think this basketball team thing? This is probably a one time deal.”

“You’re not planning to play next year?”

“It’s just, well, it was only fun with Kyle, and he’s out for a hot minute. Plus I could be spending my free time workin’. Lot to think about, ya know? And it’s not like you and football. I just wanted to try it out.”

Stan understood. He’d cycled through plenty of hobbies himself. “Why not just go ahead and quit?”

Kenny shook his head. “Season’s almost over, anyway. Gotta finish it out. So, for now…” he saluted with his sandwich. “Fuck it. We ball.”

[siconetribal]

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 8

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Epiphanies, violence, crime fighting, and staffing issues

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

Sorry about the delay, I wasn't sure on where to go with the story for some time, and health problems started popping up more and more. Things are still hectic, but hopefully manageable.

Personal matters aside, I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you for all your support always.

A big shout-out to my friend who is a manager of a facility much like Citlalli. How you handle the various incidents that you do with such grace is inspiring.

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

It was moments like these that reminded him of the benefits of wearing his red helmet. The contents of his head remained intact and inside his skull at all times..

  Holy shit, she was the barista at the counter! Red Hood quickly got back up onto his feet, bobbing to dodge a hook before grabbing the bigger guy's sleeve, yanking the guy forward to grab his head. A sickening crunch followed by a cry of pain was satisfaction to the vigilante’s ears. The lumbering giant fell to his knees, holding his face. “It wasn’t that bad,” he scoffed, waiting for his opponent to get back up. The clang of metal was all he heard before watching the crook fall face-first into the pavement. “Now that, that would be pretty bad.” He shrugged, looking up at Nightwing. “You know I had him, right?”

“Is that what you call being plowed into a brick wall? I swear, the lingo of the youth these days.” The elder Robin ran a gloved hand through his hair, looking down at the unconscious bodies littered around. “Two, four, I think that’s all of them.” He nudged his foot into the one on his right, watching the body roll over. 

“Looks like it. Now we just gotta wrap ‘em up and drop ‘em off for the cops.” Red Hood motioned towards the street with his head. “I guess today wasn’t a total waste.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Dammit, I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner! This could’ve all been nicely packed and solved, stupid, stupid, stupid! He berated himself as they dragged the culprits to one of the nearby working lamp posts, tying them up. Clearly finding some Jane Doe of Gotham was not as easy as he thought, especially when he looked right at her and failed to realize it. His pride as a detective was bruised to a point that he was not sure if it would ever be restored. No way in hell I’m telling Grayson about that, I’ll really never hear the end of it. He glared at the guy with the broken nose. Once again, he was grateful that he wore a red helmet instead of a domino mask. His red cheeks and peeved expression was hidden to all except for himself as the two wrapped up for the evening.

Y/N lay crumpled and slouched on the old sofa of their apartment, exhausted and defeated. How many weeks had it been since all this started? How many more were left? She had just paid the first installment of the bill, a glorious moment, until she saw the damage to her bank account.

Life’s not fair, I get it, but this is cruel and unusual! She sighed for the umpteenth time, sinking into the old cushions a little deeper. He had to have noticed her, there was no way her attempts at anonymity were successful. Not to mention, he literally caught me falling! Ah, then there’s the stroke of genius Cici had. Really, a victim of Joker laughing gas?  Now he’s really going to think I’m insane and refuse to pay! Then again, maybe he’ll pity me enough and actually pay? He did leave a sizable tip between the two of us. She forced herself to sit up straight and crossed her legs.

“No, get it together! You need to talk to him and explain the situation. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable conclusion through proper discourse! We’re both adults, and he clearly has a savior/hero complex because he did help me at the bar. I’m sure he can be reasoned with when he’s not inebriated or asking a billion questions.” She nodded to herself. “The real issue is how do I find him and prove I’m not some nut case?” Her pursed lips slid side to side as she tried to figure out a method to meet up with him again.

Citlalli had suggested she just turn up at Wayne manor or Wayne Enterprises. It was a tempting option, but with her luck, Y/N had a feeling she was going to be labeled as the new arm candy of the billionaire playboy and that was nothing but trouble. The last thing either of them needed was a horde of paparazzi hounding them or breaking into their rickety apartment and potentially breaking whatever they got their hands on.

Was Bruce Wayne handsome? Yes, there was no denying that. But handsome hardly scratched the “worth it” surface. Just look at where she was stuck now thanks to one of his adopted children. No, good looks did not make things worth it, like Citlalli always said. It only made matters worse. “And triple-y so when a Wayne was involved.” She muttered. “What if he never returns to the coffee shop? It’s been a whole month since then and nada!” She threw her hands up in frustration and slouched on the couch once more. “Doesn’t help that Arkham_Knight has been MIA, too! None of the quests are as fun without him. But he did say he’s going to be out of town or something about no gaming access. I wonder if kicking Wonder Boy’s butt is still on the table if he knew who he was.” It was so very tempting to just give in to the siren call, but she knew better than that. For starters, it would ruin the dynamic between the two of them and one or both of them would end up in jail for attacking a trust fund kid like him.

Her thoughts were broken by the clatter of her phone vibrating on the coffee table. Grabbing the device, she hit the green button on the outdated device. “Hey Cici, what’s up?”

“Hey chica, where are you right now?” 

“At the apartment, sprouting on the couch like a potato, why?”

“Can you help me out, pretty please?” Y/N could hear the batting of her lashes through the phone.

“Hmmm, I dunno, I do have a pretty tight schedule between germination, wallowing in my financial crater, and staring out into the darkness.” Y/N tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear as she made her way into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Oh, woe is you, so busy.” Citlalli scoffed. “Anyway, I really need your help! I just got word that Ryan had asked Stacy to cover his shift and she agreed. Neither of them confirmed that he would be taking up her shift today, and he's saying that he asked her but never agreed to pick up from her. Yes, it's stupid, and I’m going to have to sit these over privileged brats down and explain to them how swapping shifts work again. But, that's not the point! I need someone in today and I thought you may want to pick up some hours to save up faster. Are you able to?”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll head in. Thanks for the chance, I really appreciate it. You don’t worry your little curly head about this and just enjoy the weekend away with your family. Send me any open shifts, and I’ll cover where I can, cool?”

“Miha, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much!” Citllali quickly dissolved into heaps of praises and prayers in Spanish out of sheer relief before she finally hung up the call and texted the information.

Another Saturday night shift left unmanned because why would they honor the hours they said they'd work? Not like I can complain though, I’m hitting overtime now and that means more money for me to get these payments over with. She made her way down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, quickly getting changed into a simple black tee and jeans, with the café apron tucked away into her backpack as she locked up behind herself. 

The shift had started out busy, the store filled with students and professionals burning the night oil fueled by caffeine and pastries. But as the hours slowly ticked by, the number of in-store customers dwindled down alongside the drive-thru patrons. The moon was now up in place of the sun, and no one really dared to be out too late in this part of Gotham. Only the foolish and desperate, like herself, remained at work because the company insisted on a 24-hour shop to help spruce the town.

Did she want to be out here at night? No. Was being at home in the apartment alone any better? No. At least there was surveillance here. Any trouble that could happen would be recording, and she would be safe, sort of. Shrugging off self-preservation, Y/N began to sweep the floors to pass the time. It was better than standing at the counter waiting for no one to come in. It was another dead night, nothing serious was going to happen.

[queenendless]

🏫School Mates (SuzaLulu x Reader)PT 1🏫

A/N: Testing the waters with posting the few fanfic content I have out so far for one of my nine fave anime ever. This reworked piece I've had for a long while is coming out. This AU is where you're a late new student at Ashford Academy. Yeah, it's sort of a love triangle. Hopefully, I can make this short story make sense in some way. All credit for Code Geass characters and pics goes to Sunrise.

DON'T COPY OR STEAL MY FANWORK, RATHER LIKE AND REBLOG. I hope you enjoy.

"Y/n … Y/n … Y/N!"

You get awoken from your dream by the calling of your name. Your head resting on your folded arms snaps up in attention to who spoke out only to spot violet eyes trained on you, exasperatedly looking at you.

"Being the new student and sleeping during class isn't a good way to make a good impression. Be grateful you sit behind me, otherwise you'd have your neck strung out by the teacher."

You then noticed students parting as class was over "Mmm … sorry … Lelouch." You mumble sleepily as your rub your tired eyes.

Said man, Lelouch, glared a bit more before his eyes softened, sighing before running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, where would you be without me?"

"I'd be dead." You dully uttered. You get hit lightly on the head by a rolled up paper, making you pout at him. "Hey!"

"No time for jokes. Come on, the others are waiting." Lelouch put the paper in his bag before taking your hand and pulling you to your feet, dragging you behind him.

"Lelouch, I can walk to the student council room just fine without you dragging me like a rag doll." You pitifully moaned as you felt sparks run through your hand as his held yours tighter taking the lead.

"You've been attending here for weeks now and you still get lost in these halls." Lelouch reminded you in matter of fact tone. His tone made you stick your tongue out with his back facing you. "And I'd quit sticking my tongue out if I were you or else you'll attract flies."

"Come on, Lelouch. Cut her some slack. She's still a late transfer, after all." An amused voice lightly chided as your free hand was held by a callous, warm hand that easily pulled you free from Lelouch's grip. "I got your back, Y/n." You turned around to see Suzaku in time as he gently bumped your shoulder with his fist, smiling carefree.

"My knight in shining armor," you softly cheered as you hugged Suzaku's arm, giving a closed eye smile as both guys blushed as they thought it was one of the cutest smiles they've ever seen. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Suzaku laughed a bit, smiling toothily back at you.

"If you two are going to flirt in my face, I'm not sticking around to watch." Lelouch rolled his eyes, he almost sounded like he was jealous; especially when deep down he didn't like you hugging Suzaku's arm in his presence. And he didn't know he would feel that sort of emotion over such a silly thing. But he couldn't keep a small smile from growing on his face as he shook his head to clear those ridiculous thoughts. "Come on, you two."

When you did arrive …

"Okay everyone, time for GUTS~!" Milly was loud and flamboyant as always.

"Aw come on, Prez! Another guts spell right from the start?" Rivalz complained, even though underneath he was secretly swooning for her hard.

"Um … hello …" Nina was typing at her computer, being meek as usual.

"Nice of you three to finally show up." Kallen said nonchalantly.

"Hi, Lulu~! Ready for another day of good old student council work~!?" Shirley ran over to greet Lelouch, teeming with a giddy, enthusiastic personality.

"Ready as always. You all should know that by now." Lelouch smiled charmingly, making Shirley almost swoon as the meeting commenced.

As the daily meeting began and went on for an hour and a half, you couldn't help but have your eyes travel around the room, landing on each single person. Every person here welcomed you into their school lives and their personal lives in some way.

Milly was as flirtatious as she was dramatic in her own lovable way.

Rivalz crushing on the pres hard while also being a goofball.

Nina, well, she was a shy introvert but a genius beneath … even though there were times you felt suspicious towards her.

Shirley, such an upbeat, enthusiastic girl with a good heart even though she's obviously falling hard for Lelouch and making it so obvious to everyone.

And Kallen, looks calm and mysterious on the surface but you had a feeling there was more to her and you had no idea why but you kinda like her for it. They slowly but surely became the first ever friends you ever made.

Soon, the meeting ended and you walked between Lelouch and Suzaku to the clubhouse which is also Lelouch's home on campus that he shared with his maid Sayako; you get the impression there was more to her like with Kallen as someone not to underestimate, and his little sister Nunnally … she was like the little precious sister you never thought you wanted; spending quality time with her especially when Lelouch was away doing his own thing.

Speaking of, Lelouch and Suzaku even … they were like two sides of the same coin. Two peas in a pod. So similar yet so different in their own respective ways. Lelouch is the brains, Suzaku is the brawn, but put them together … there's nothing they can't accomplish. You couldn't have one without the other and you wouldn't have it any other way.

In fact, it was Lelouch himself that allowed you to live with him and his sister in the clubhouse and asked Milly to convince her grandfather to allow it since the dorms on campus were already full. You may not remember much of your life before coming here, but a lot of meaning was brought back into your life, gaining new memories and a new life instead.

'So, why do I still have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind … this added pressure deep within my heart for how I feel towards these two guys … seems familiar. Whether it's good or bad … I don't know.'

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"I like pancakes with marshmallows on top~! Heeheehee~! Yippee~! Whee~!" You blurted out randomly, causing Nunnally to laugh gleefully as she clapped, making you laugh too. You had just finished dinner with Nunnally and the guys; Suzaku was invited to eat over since he's their occasional guest as well as their childhood friend, and you were currently playing with Nunnally's hair. From the moment you met her, your heart instantly melted at the pure innocence that is Nunnally Lamperouge that compelled you to protect the precious girl with all your might!

"Oh, I'd love to try that sometime! Can we?" Nunnally had hope laced in her voice.

"Your wish is my command, my lady." Lelouch smiled charmingly, bowing before his little sister, making her giggle.

"I second that request, please." You raised your hand, smiling bashfully.

"At your service, my lady." Suzaku appeared by your side, also bowing to you, making your cheeks heat up and feel all fluttery inside. His eye closed smile radiated sunshine that is this wholesome boi.

As Lelouch gathered the empty plates to take to the kitchen to clean them up, you noticed him stopping to side glance at you, nodding his head for you to follow, before walking through the doorway. "I um … I'll be back in a bit, Nunna."

"Okay. Suzaku, do you want to make paper cranes with me? Miss Sayako and I were working on some earlier."

"That sounds fun. I'd love to." Seeing him gaze affectionately at her like another older brother to her made your heart skip a beat before you walked to the kitchen.

You spotted Lelouch's back to you as he washed the dishes. You slowly approached him, feeling nervous as you wondered what he wanted. You rubbed your arm as you do when you're anxious. The sound of his voice made you halt in your tracks.

"You and Nunnally have gotten closer over time. It feels like just yesterday when I met you; a meek new girl to our class. And yet, as days passed by, that very same girl became a part of our daily lives. As a school mate, then a student council member, and now a friend. For what was once hollow is now becoming whole again. At least, that's my basic sum of it."

You felt your stomach tie itself in knots as you timidly approached him, "And now?"

You watched as the reflection of his calm face in the window above the sink looked back at you; his violet eyes twinkling with speculation, before looking over his shoulder, now looking amused. "You look like a scared little thing with that look on your face. Relax. I'm not gonna bite."

"A – Are you sure about that?" You gulped audibly.

"I'm serious. I'm grateful to you for being here for Nunnally in my stead. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to Sayako and the student council being around to spend time with her when I'm busy with stuff … and I don't say this as much as I should … but … thank you." The smile he gave to you felt genuine and it made your heart flutter.

"It – it's fine. Nunnally … she's an absolute angel. And I'm grateful to her and you and everyone for accepting me into the student council and your friend group – !"

You stop speaking mid sentence. You froze, stunned in shock at the feel of lips pressed against your cheek. It took you a minute before you blinked your eyes back into focus from the daze you were in. "Consider this my gift to you."

You slowly raised your hand to touch your cheek; the tingling feeling where his lips touched your skin made something within you click into place. Your eyes traveled to meet his; you swore you just saw them glow magenta for a moment there. But his eyes were fine. Very fine in your opinion as you became lost in their beautiful violet sea; almost like delving deep into his soul and searching for something beyond your understanding.

You felt an unfathomable pull to him, making you lean closer as you noticed he did the same when the realization that Lelouch kissed your left cheek made you snap out of it; face aflame as you covered your mouth to muffle your squeak of surprise, snapping Lelouch of his apparent trance as well as he blinked several times to get back into focus.

"Mmm … I swear, everything I say and do gets you so easily flustered, doesn't it?" He laughed softly, even though his cheeks were flushed red too.

"N – No!" That just made him snicker in his hand. "I – I should head back now."

"But seriously, Y/n." You looked back to see his smile still there, tender and true. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

You returned to the living room and felt a smile break out at the sight of Nunnally and Suzaku smiling, laughing, making paper cranes together when Suzaku noticed you and waved you over to help out. But you were still reeling from what transpired in the other room.

'Lelouch kissed me. Of all people, me! It was on the cheek, but still! I don't know that much about his personal life; aside from his gambling trips with Rivalz. Did he kiss anyone before, cheek or otherwise? Before me?' You couldn't get that image of Lelouch's bemused expression out of your mind. You also couldn't ignore the fact that you felt Suzaku's eyes on you, a suspicious glaze to them.

Sooner than you expected, it was time for Suzaku to leave. You were lost in thought as you watched Suzaku bent down to hug Nunnally before nodding at Lelouch only to have your name being called on, pulling you out of it to say good bye. But as he smiled and waved, walking out the door, you watched his retreating form while Lelouch pushed Nunnally's wheelchair to her bedroom to get her ready for bed. That's when you felt the same magnetic pull with Lelouch reappear, making you follow the soldier outside.

"Suzaku, wait!"

He stopped in mid walk and turned back around, curiosity and concern flashed on his face as he cocked his head to the side, making him appear that much cuter. "Y/n? What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No … the exact opposite, in fact. I feel …" Why are you feeling this way, twice in a row? "I just want to say thank you. Not just for tonight, but for every day since we became friends. It means a lot to me." You rubbed your arm, shyly smiling. "You … mean a lot to me."

His smile lite a fire in your heart. "You mean a lot to me too. You, Lelouch, Nunnally, the student council … you've all become so important to me." He walked towards you until you were standing face to face. "You above all else."

You gaped at seeing his face start to flush red and his green eyes became glossy and … tempted. "I … I am?"

He looked a bit stunned before his face broke out into a smile. "Aw, come on. You honestly can't see why?"

What happened next took you by surprise, almost as much as Lelouch's did.

The feeling of Suzaku's lips pressed against your other cheek; once normal but now burning with heat from those soft velvety lips of his. He pulled back to give a bashful smile, scratching his cheek, "Is that enough proof for you?"

You gingerly touched your cheek, feeling the warmth beneath your fingertips, as butterflies fluttered in your stomach and your heart was racing quickly. But that's when you noticed his green eyes glow; those mesmerizing emerald gems now stuck upon your awaiting face. His eyes softened as did his smile.

Your cheeks burned as you smiled shyly at him. "I … think so."

Suzaku laughed softly before holding your hands. "Y/n, you do mean that much to me. This past month spent in school with you, sharing classes and having study sessions, even just spending time with you like that has been … wonderful." You smiled the more he talked, leaning closer as did he when you noticed his eyes looking over you to far behind you; suspicion laced in them. "It's getting late. I should head back to my place. Have a good night … " Suzaku pulled your hands up to litter gentle kisses on top of them, making you smile bashfully, " … Y/n."

You took him by surprise as you leaned up to kiss his cheek "Good night, Suzaku."

You waved good-bye as his goofy smiling face looked back at you over his shoulder as he waved back too while hurrying off, almost falling over his feet from not watching where he was going, causing you to laugh out loud at his stumble.

But unbeknownst to you but not to the brunette was that Lelouch was watching outside his bedroom window.

He watched his best friend kiss your cheek as he did earlier.

He watched as Suzaku ran off, leaving you smiling and blushing as you felt yourself floating off your feet as you walked back inside.

He did not look happy. Not one bit.

[wannabevampire]

hello my vampires!

it’s allie! i don’t know how many of you remember me (goodness knows i don’t blame you considering i’ve been gone for TWO YEARS!!). but in case you forgot i use to write fanfics on here! mainly marvel, i was probably most known for writing fics about druig and matt murdock!

my life has changed A LOT since then. i moved across the country, started studying at my dream school in my dream program (#allieinstem), lived in THREE different apartments and dealt with oh so much roommate drama, became a bit of a party girl for a moment, worked a lot of different jobs, and fell in love :)

as we all know the world has FINALLY woken up and realized how hot Barry Keoghan is!! and a few weeks ago i caught myself thinking “huh i wonder what happened to that old tumblr account i ran that had over a thousand followers where i was a complete whore on the internet and wrote fan fics constantly??”.

i “abandoned” this account over two years ago, but I still think about it every now and then. i left suddenly and without notice for a multitude of reasons, but without getting too specific i was going through some insanely drastic life changes and my mental health wasn't the best.

I have retyped this post so many times because I'm not sure what to say! But I've been thinking about this account and how much it meant to me. As well as remembering my wonderful mutuals who were always so sweet, funny, and supportive <3

life has been really tough recently, not bad just…hard. and i remember how cathartic this community was for me. i’ve mentioned this before, but english is my second language and my writing has always been a huge insecurity of mine. and yet I felt so welcomed here and it gave me so many opportunities to write for fun!

to see that my fics, blurbs, and slutty fantasies are still being reblogged is so crazy and it makes me very happy! i'm not sure if i'll start writing again but i guess we’ll see :)

(regardless i might reblog a bunch of my old druig/barry content because of the current barry renaissance lol)

side note: went through my drafts and found an old matt murdock fic that i never posted???? it’s like 3.5k words lol and it's almost finished. so weird seeing my old work but like…should i post??

if you remember me at all or are interested in my old work please reach out to me! mutual, nonnie, follower, literally anyone!! i’d love to see how this little corner of the internet is doing <3

as always…

xoxo,

allie 🕊️

p.s. I have such a strong urge to reach out to my old mutuals who are still active because you guys are all such talented writers but I don't know if that would be weird since it's been so long! ahh!!! should I?? please say hi!!!

p.p.s should i post that matt murdock fic??

[beechersnope]

omg trick or treat red light spells danger 🏮

regretfully i do not have anything new from that verse prepared, but i do have a few other anons clamoring for max or maxiel content, so i shall offer a ghost town fic that is a bit longer than most of the stuff that i've posted for the trick or treat fills

***

The sun had already set behind the black ridge of the mountains when Daniel finally pulled onto the stretch of rough dirt road that led into the town of Coldspring.

Calling it a road was a kindness it didn’t deserve, Daniel decided after bouncing along in his truck for nearly half a mile before a haphazard collection of buildings in varying states of disrepair came into view. He felt practically an expert on the subject after spending the last fifty-odd miles on a relatively well-maintained gravel road that ran north-south between Highways 6 and 50. If he’d known what he was in for after that, Daniel might have taken the long way around—but eager to get to Coldspring before dark, he’d opted for the more straightforward route.

Daniel didn’t know much about Max Verstappen or her ultimate plans for Coldspring even after countless emails exchanged over the last three months in addition to a handful of curt, to-the-point phone calls in the last two weeks. But he did know that she would be driving a truck almost identical to the one he’d picked up in Vegas after he’d landed a couple days ago, and when Daniel pulled up alongside the only vehicle in town—a rusty pickup with a bed cap that might have been white, once upon a time—it became immediately clear that Max wasn’t here.

As soon as Daniel hopped out of the truck, his boots crunching loudly through the clumps of gravel and sand, the door to the building he was parked in front of swung open to reveal a grizzled old man in plaid and overalls, a cowboy hat adorning his otherwise bald head. His beard was halfway down to his gut, and everything about the man’s appearance set off alarm bells in Daniel’s head. He didn’t have much Este that Max had done her due diligence in making sure the former owner of Coldspring wasn’t a serial killer. At least he’d had the presence of mind to buy a gun before hauling his ass out to the middle of the desert, though he hadn’t ever really planned on using it.

But surprisingly enough, the man paid Daniel barely any attention at all. “I was expecting a lady,” he said in a gruff voice with a similar cadence to the way country folk spoke back home. His eyes moved straight past Daniel and off into the distance, like he was expecting to see Max’s truck trundling up the road any second now.

“I know her flight landed in Reno this morning,” Daniel explained, “but I haven’t had any cell service the past couple hours, so I’m not sure where she is. She should have been here by now. You haven’t seen her?”

The man shook his head. “I’ve been waiting here nearly all damn day, and I ain’t seen a soul.” Finally, his eyes drifted back to Daniel with a suspicious glint. “You the handyman she mentioned?”

“Yeah,” Daniel replied, nodding. He wasn’t sure where the man was headed with that line of questioning, but he was starting to wish he’d put on his holster as soon as he’d stepped out of the truck, just so everyone was on the same page.

The man seemed wholly unaware of the effect his presence was having on Daniel as he responded. “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” he said with a derisive snort. “That’s all I’ll say.”

Daniel had figured that, seeing as Max had bought the place for a fraction of what the land should have cost—regardless of the level of disrepair the buildings appeared to be in. Evidently, the man in front of him had been desperate to rid himself of whatever burden owning this ghost town had become.

The man seemed just as eager to get the hell off the property now that Daniel had shown up, despite the fact that Max was the one who should have been there for the passing of the torch, as it were. But after fifteen minutes of the two of them standing there in uncomfortable silence, waiting, as the sunlight rapidly waned, it became clear that something was gonna have to give.

“All right, why don’t you show me around,” Daniel finally offered. “I’ll go into town tomorrow and make some calls if Max doesn’t show later tonight.”

“You know where town is?” the man asked in a skeptical tone.

“Keep going north, right? Until you hit the highway, then west for a few miles.”

The man nodded, seemingly impressed. “Y’all did your research, at least. Don’t see how it’ll help you much with this dump, but God bless you for taking it off my hands.”

Daniel was tempted to ask why the man was so desperate to sell, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to open that can of worms with a stranger who seemed like he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of dodge.

The man—whose name Daniel still couldn’t remember from the sale documents though he’d been wracking his brain trying to recall it since the second he’d pulled up—took Daniel’s silence for the cue it was and started to walk up the dusty road that used to be the bustling main street of a turn-of-the-century gold mining town.

Daniel was surprised by how many structures were still standing even though practically every building was crumbling at the foundations, so ill-cared for in the century since the town’s abandonment that it was a wonder there was anything left. There was a bank, a schoolhouse, a jail, a handful of residences, and a brothel, all nestled within the narrow valley that sloped up toward the crown jewel of Coldspring: its namesake—a deep limestone pit with clear blue water that lay at the base of the mountain in the north end of the valley.

The man stopped where the road had been overtaken by sagebrush just a few hundred yards from the limestone caldera of the spring. Behind it, Daniel could just make out a dilapidated wooden path that meandered up into the mountains, where the great yawning mouth of a mineshaft stood starkly amongst the vegetation even in near darkness.

“Well, that’s the lay of the land,” the man told Daniel, his eyes flitting toward the mineshaft up on the mountain for just a brief moment before returning to Daniel’s face. “If you or Ms. Verstappen have any questions, you’re welcome to call and ask, though truth be told, I’m rather relieved to be done with this place for good.”

Once again, Daniel made a conscious decision to keep his mouth shut, instead of asking the question the man almost seemed to be daring him to ask. “Where do we sleep?” he inquired instead. He’d had a long drive after all, and for all of Coldspring’s charm—or lack thereof—Daniel wanted nothing more than to crawl into his sleeping bag so he could get some rest. He didn’t harbor any delusions about sleeping in an actual bed.

“The saloon,” the man said before starting a quick pace back to their trucks, both parked in front of the building in question. “It’s really the only building still fit to live in. For now, anyway.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

Once the former owner had raced down the valley toward the main road, leaving Daniel on his own in the growing darkness, the magnitude of his decision to take this job finally started to set in.

When Daniel had first responded to the listing, which had asked for someone with a litany of skills better suited to a contractor and his entire crew, he hadn’t taken more than a few minutes to look up where the hell Coldspring was before deciding that the job was his.

The strain of the pandemic that had led Daniel to move back in with his parents now had him desperate to get as far away from Nashville as possible. Running away to the middle of the desert and getting paid to do it had seemed like the perfect solution. It wasn’t until after he’d actually gotten the job and signed the paperwork that Daniel even bothered to research why this particular ghost town had died.

In Coldspring’s case, it was literal. The entire town had perished without warning in the late 1800s from an apparent mass poisoning. The prevailing theory was arsenic contamination of the groundwater supply caused by a mining accident, though no definitive evidence to that effect had ever been found.

While that hadn’t been enough to scare Daniel away when Max had booked him a one-way ticket to Vegas, it was the only thing he could think about now as he unpacked all his necessaries from the truck and brought them inside the dusty saloon, which didn’t appear to have a single working source of light. Thankfully, Daniel had come prepared.

Daniel set up camp behind the bar, his lantern perched on the countertop near the windowsill as a beacon of sorts, though he wasn’t expecting Max to come strolling in any time soon. There was a deadbolt on the inside of the saloon door and a more elaborate padlock on the outside. Daniel removed the padlock and secured the deadbolt once he’d retrieved everything that he thought he might need, and then tucked himself into his sleeping bag, the lantern still sitting on the bar top casting the rest of the space into shadow. Daniel stared into the patch of darkness in the corner for a moment before finally sitting up to turn off the light entirely.

It wasn��t until he was lying there surrounded by the pitch black and the overwhelming quiet that he realized he’d never asked the former owner where he was supposed to go if he had to take a shit.

Daniel woke up bright and early the following morning from a sleep that had been fitful at best. It was difficult to get used to the change in the ambient sounds. Gone was the frog-song that had lulled him to sleep since he was a baby; in its place the rhythmic instruments of insects hiding in the brush, their melody muted now that fall was in full swing.

Daniel’s mind was busy as well. Max still hadn’t shown up, which meant that he had a long drive ahead of him before reaching the nearest town, Austin, and even then, there was no guarantee he’d have cell service. Or that Max would, for that matter.

But luck was on his side. Daniel made it up to Austin just in time for mid-morning breakfast, and his signal made a reappearance almost as soon as he crossed into town. Max answered on the first ring and out came a long, rambling explanation for her absence which boiled down to her car breaking down somewhere just outside of Fallon, where she’d spent the night, and that she was on her way to meet him in Austin as they spoke.

Satisfied with her assurances (for now at least), Daniel strolled into the little diner on the side of the highway in the center of town and sat down for a bite to eat.

There was a waitress at the head of the table almost as soon as he slid into a booth, a broad bucktoothed smile on her face as she greeted him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Just water, miss, thank you,” Daniel replied. He didn’t like to rely on caffeine to keep himself going. “Do you have any breakfast specials?”

“Eggs and bacon with toast or a short stack with fruit,” the waitress recited easily. “But if you’re looking for something a bit more substantial, Pierre makes a mean chicken-fried steak.”

Daniel thought it over a minute. “Yeah, all right,” he decided. It would give him a reason to hang out in this diner a little longer, at least. “Side of scrambled eggs with that, also.”

“You got it, boss,” the waitress replied with a flirtatious little wink before sauntering back to give Daniel’s order to the cook.

Daniel watched her walk away with a bit more interest than he’d shown before and made a mental note to try to get a look at her nametag, assuming this place had the budget for something like that.

It did, as it turned out, and when the waitress came back with Daniel’s glass of ice water, he discovered that her name was Este. When Este came back with Daniel’s chicken-fried steak, slathered in thick white gravy that had his mouth watering before the plate reached the table, he also discovered that Este liked to gossip.

“You planning to stay in town long?” she asked, nearly leant up against the table while Daniel cut his steak. He couldn’t really fault her for hanging around, seeing as he was the only customer in the whole place, but he had to wonder just what she meant by it.

“In the area, yeah,” Daniel replied.

Este scoffed. “There’s not much else ‘in the area’,” she countered playfully.

Daniel took a careful bite of his steak, chewed, and swallowed. “You know where Coldspring is?” he asked her.

All the color drained from Este’s face. “You work for Don Stevens?” she asked in an almost breathless rush, her tongue stumbling over the words. “Don’t tell me he’s planning on fixing up the place.”

“Was that the guy who owned it before?” Daniel clarified. “No, I work for the person who just bought it.”

“Someone bought it?” Este sounded utterly incredulous. “You’re not staying there are you?”

Daniel nodded. “Through most of the winter,” he replied, “long as the weather’s mild enough to work.”

A taut expression took over Este’s face as she drew back from Daniel’s table, her eyes darting toward the door, where another customer had finally come in. “Well, I’d rethink that plan if I were you,” she snapped before rushing away like her ass was on fire.

Daniel had to suppress the urge to laugh out loud.

He thought Max might find the anecdote amusing as well, but when she finally showed up a few hours later, it was clear that the young woman was in no mood for ghost stories. She looked uncharacteristically frazzled when she burst through the door of the little diner, her long blonde hair knotted up into a messy bun atop her head, and she blew straight past Este without a word, her fiery gaze fixed solely on Daniel.

“Nice to meet you,” was the first thing she said, her consonants sharp and carefully enunciated, though beneath that Daniel could still detect the remnants of a lisp. The second was: “I didn’t get ripped off by that Don guy, did I?”

Daniel shook his head. “Long as you knew you paid for some rundown old ghost town in the middle of nowhere,” he told her.

Max rolled her eyes. None of his previous interactions with her had been what Daniel would consider the height of professionalism, so he wasn’t really taken aback by her attitude, but it was a whole other thing in person, that was for damn sure.

“All right, let’s hit the road, then,” she said, gesturing for Daniel to follow her back outside.

Daniel climbed to his feet a bit reluctantly. He was sort of hoping to grab lunch before heading out to the boonies. “You don’t want to grab a bite first?” he asked. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t exactly stock a gourmet kitchen when I packed.”

“If gourmet’s what you’re looking for, I’m pretty sure you’re in the wrong place,” Max replied with an unjustified sneer before storming out the front door.

They caravanned back to the saloon in Coldspring at a slightly quicker pace than Daniel would have liked, though even Max for all her impatience couldn’t maintain the same speed once they reached the rugged trail that led up into the mountains.

It wasn’t until they parked in front of the saloon and Max hopped out of her truck that Daniel finally took real stock of her, realizing almost immediately that this woman did not seem well equipped for living off-grid over the next three to six months, or however long she expected this damn project to take.

But he had to give her credit where it was due: as soon as her designer leather boots hit the dirt, she was already rolling up her sleeves and getting right to work.

That work consisted mainly of surveying the entire property from top to bottom and making a list of everything that needed to be done. Daniel followed along, letting Max know exactly what was required for each task in the way of supplies and manpower, and the whole time, watching the grimace on her face deepen ever-further with each new item added to her notebook.

“What exactly are your big plans for this place, anyway?” Daniel asked after they’d combed practically the whole town top to bottom—with the exception of the mineshaft looming high above them and the spring below.

“Tourism,” Max replied vaguely. “People love ghost towns.”

Daniel wasn’t sure that even the most hardcore would-be ghostbusters could be convinced to come all the way out to Coldspring to get their rocks off, but he just nodded and let Max keep believing that all of this wouldn’t just be one massive money sink in the end.

“First snowfall could be right around the corner,” Daniel pointed out to her as Max leaned down over the bar top to jot something else down in her notebook. His eyes dropped to where the first few buttons of her shirt were undone. Her fair skin was already starting to burn. He forced himself to look away. “We might not have much time to work on the exteriors before winter makes things harder than it needs to be.”

Max glanced up sharply, but if she’d intuited the focus of Daniel’s gaze, she didn’t make any indication of it. “I guess we better get started, then,” was all she said in reply.

Over the next week, Daniel managed to make significant headway on repairing the foundations of the major structures in town, though he still wasn’t convinced some of the smaller residences could actually be saved. Max was a surprisingly big help throughout the whole process; Daniel had anticipated more traditional foremanship on her part, but when it came right down to it, she didn’t seem at all afraid to get her hands dirty.

With another human being sharing the saloon floor—albeit on the other side of the bar, out of view—the town didn’t seem quite so threatening at night. Daniel slept well after each day of strenuous manual labor, and with Max keeping them supplied with fresh food from town, Daniel was missing a lot fewer creature comforts than he’d expected.

By the end of the first week, the days started to blend into each other. Without being able to rely on his phone, which had been tucked into his backpack turned off since the last time Daniel had gone up to Austin with Max for gas and propane, there wasn’t much to keep him tethered to the trappings of the outside world as he worked. It was everything Daniel could have hoped for and more. Complete and utter freedom.

But Daniel couldn’t quite seem to shake the sense of unease that came over him every time he caught a glimpse of the abyssal void of the mineshaft in his periphery. Sometimes he forced himself to stare up at it for minutes at a time, squinting against the wind that howled through the valley in the late afternoons, trying desperately to convince his subconscious that whatever movement he’d thought he’d seen in the darkness was just a trick of the light.

The next time Daniel went up to Austin on a supply run, he bought a calendar from the gas station and started marking the days.

It was a Tuesday when something finally happened that Daniel couldn’t explain, nearly two weeks after his first arrival in Coldspring. He was doing measurements in the old jailhouse, flummoxed as to how to begin restoring the damn thing without just knocking it down and starting all over, when he heard it.

“What?” Daniel called out frustratedly. It was the fifth time Max had called his name in the last twenty minutes with no additional response. After the sixth, Daniel finally threw down his measuring tape and notepad and stalked out of the building to see what she wanted. But when he walked outside, Max was nowhere to be found.

It was only after he turned a full one-eighty degrees that he spotted her, sitting out on the porch of the saloon where she usually hung out when she was thinking over a problem. The only thing was, Daniel could have sworn he’d heard her calling him from the opposite side of town.

Daniel slowly turned his head again, his eyes drifting upward to the mineshaft that Max still hadn’t made any mention of in her grandiose plans for restoring the town. He squinted hard as he stared up into the darkness, half-convinced that if he tried hard enough, he could make sense somehow of the disquiet that fell over him every time he remembered the source of Coldspring’s demise.

“What are you doing?” Max asked.

Somehow, she’d managed to come up behind him without making a sound. Daniel whirled around to face her, and then glanced over her shoulder at the place where she’d just been sitting to find the chair on the porch empty, though he wasn’t sure what to make of the relief he felt at the sight.

“Were you just calling my name?” Daniel wondered.

Max shook her head. “No, why?”

“Nothing,” Daniel replied. “Don’t worry about it.” Then he put the whole thing out of his mind and got back to work.

By the end of the third week, Daniel was positively certain he was going stir crazy.

He hadn’t had any more auditory or visual hallucinations, or whatever the hell it was that he’d experienced the week before, but he was waking up every day painfully hard in his sweatpants with no hope of release. It didn’t help that he was spending each night in the saloon just a few feet away from Max, who hadn’t shown the slightest bit of interest in Daniel since they’d met—and honestly, Daniel was kind of grateful for that, but it didn’t help him address the more immediate problem he was facing, and that was that he desperately, urgently needed to get laid.

Per their agreement, Daniel was entitled to a full two days off of his choosing every week. Today was a Friday. Barely five minutes after waking up, Daniel had decided that he was going to make a trip up to Austin that afternoon to see if Este was maybe a little bit interested, even after their sour farewell at the diner that Daniel had been carefully avoiding since their first encounter.

Este wasn’t interested. Georgie, a tall English tourist who was dressed more appropriately for mid-July rather than late-October, was.

“Please tell me you have a hotel somewhere around here,” Daniel muttered against Georgie’s sweat-soaked skin as he pressed her up against the cab of his truck. He had a knee wedged between her bare thighs, and he almost felt like he would die if he didn’t get inside her in the next five minutes.

“I have one of those van conversions,” Georgie replied with an awkward giggle. “Got a whole mattress in the back. We could really make my bed rock, you know?”

Daniel nodded, barely registering a word she was saying. He was pretty sure he would have followed her off a cliff if she asked nicely enough in that moment, but when he finally pulled away from her so they could do just that, it wasn’t Georgie’s face looking back at him. It was Max’s.

Then Daniel blinked, and like that, whatever he’d seen was gone. But the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach was only growing stronger.

“What’s wrong?” Georgie asked, reaching forward to pull Daniel back in.

He dodged her and stumbled back a few feet. “I have to go,” he said, mouth dry as he fumbled through both pockets before remembering that his keys were attached to his belt. “Sorry, I—”

Daniel didn’t finish the sentence before climbing into his truck and speeding away, leaving Georgie and the rest of Austin behind.

But when Daniel finally made it back to Coldspring about an hour later, Max’s truck was gone. She hadn’t said anything to him when he’d left that morning, but a cursory examination of the saloon revealed a note hastily written and taped to the bar top. Went 2 Fallon for more supplies. That was it, no further explanation of when she planned to be back or why it was so urgent that she’d left midday for an errand that would take her at least six hours of driving to complete.

Frustrated with Max, but more-so with himself for letting this damn place get the better of him, Daniel buried himself in his sleeping bag and screamed into his pillow until he tasted copper in the back of his throat.

It was dark when Daniel woke up on the floor of the saloon, and it took him a moment to realize what it was that had woken him. Usually, on nights where the moon was full, as it had been the past two nights, the light shone straight through the saloon windows, illuminating the entire space with an eerie glow. But when Daniel’s eyes opened, all he could see was blackness, and there was a disorienting period of half-awake confusion before it finally dawned on him that the shape obscuring the moonlight belonged to a person.

Daniel’s blood ran cold. Instead of opting for fight or flight, his body simply froze.

Daniel watched as the shadow moved, completely silent, with none of the tell-tale creaking of the wooden floorboards underfoot that had become the de facto confirmation of either his or Max’s presence within the saloon. He held his breath as the shadow drew closer, and then—

“Max?”

She put a finger over her lips and moved closer as Daniel sat up in his sleeping bag.

“What is it?” he asked, in a whisper this time.

Max answered with a press of her lips against Daniel’s, surging into him, forcing his mouth to open to the insistent pressure of her own. She tasted metallic, but her hands against Daniel’s thighs were electrifying, distracting him for the moment from the strangeness of the encounter.

Then he remembered himself—remembered that Max was his boss and that there couldn’t be a worse idea.

Daniel pulled away sharply, and as he did so, he caught a glimpse of a face that wasn’t Max’s face, desiccated and bone white. But when he blinked, the apparition was gone, and it was Max staring back at him again, though there was still something about her that seemed…off. Different, somehow.

“If we’re going to do this,” Daniel started to say before just as quickly backtracking. “We shouldn’t,” he finished, though it felt like he was trying to convince himself more so than Max.

Once again, Max didn’t respond, but when she leaned forward to kiss him again, this time, Daniel didn’t put up a fight. He tangled his hands tightly in her long blonde hair as she laid a trail of bites along the hollow of his throat and down his chest, his other hand struggling to find a way to take off whatever it is that she was wearing. A nightgown? Bloomers? Before this, Daniel had never seen her go to bed in anything less than a crewneck and sweatpants, but maybe that was the reason she’d gone to Fallon, to plan for this—whatever this even was.

 Finally, Daniel managed to literally tear the undershirt off of her. With it gone, he drew back to appreciate the way her breasts were illuminated by the moonlight. Under other circumstances, it might have all been very romantic, but as it was….

Daniel quickly flipped Max over onto her back, temporarily getting himself tangled in his own sleeping bag before managing to break free. She stared up at him quietly, her expression calm and supplicating. The silence was a bit unnerving, but it wasn’t hard to ignore now that Daniel had his thumbs tucked into the waistband of her lacy bloomers. He slowly pulled them down, savoring every centimeter of skin revealed to his eyes. He was surprised to find a full thatch of dark blonde pubic hair between her thighs, but he certainly wasn’t disappointed.

When he ducked his head down to press his mouth against her cunt, Daniel was startled once again by the sharp metallic taste, the same as her tongue. It took him a moment to get used to, but then it faded quickly, and all Daniel could taste was a familiar mix of sweetness and salt.

Max sighed quietly when she came with her thighs flexing against Daniel’s face. He sat back, fingers shaking to unknot the front of his sweatpants, his cock so hard it almost hurt. Condoms, he remembered belatedly. There was a stash in his backpack on the other side of the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” Daniel reassured Max before running around to the front of the saloon to grab his bag.

The condoms weren’t in the pocket he remembered putting them in, which led to a frustrated scramble as Daniel searched every pocket and seam for them before finally finding them tucked between the pages of his notepad. He breathed out a quiet sigh of relief as he tore one away from the rest before hurrying back to where Max was waiting for him.

Only she wasn’t there.

Daniel stared down at the imprint in his pillow where Max’s head had just laid, his mind conjuring up a vivid memory of her moonlit blonde hair standing out starkly against the black fabric. He stood up slowly, examining every corner of the saloon for any sign of her, but she was just…gone.

“Daniel.”

He turned his head to find the door to the saloon hanging open on its hinges. Through the darkened entryway, he caught a glimpse of something out in the sagebrush, a distinct silhouette with bright eyes, reflective like an animal’s, but whatever it was he’d seen, it disappeared too quickly for Daniel to get a good look at it.

Daniel slowly stumbled over to the open doorway. He peered outside cautiously, taking note of his truck, which was parked on its own next to the vacant spot that Max’s vehicle had occupied before he’d left for Austin yesterday. It didn’t make sense. He should have heard her pulling in, loud enough to wake him, or at the very least, driving off again. Had she parked further down the road? How had she gotten out of the saloon without him seeing her?

Daniel swallowed, trying to clear his throat so he could call out to her, but as he stared out over the lonely valley, his vocal cords seized up, a paralyzing fear suddenly washing over him like a tidal wave. Daniel stood there just a moment longer, and then reached forward to slam the saloon door shut. His fingers were trembling as he secured the deadbolt. It was a long time before he managed to fall asleep.

Daniel woke the next morning to the sound of tires crunching against the gravel outside the saloon. He ripped himself from his sleeping bag immediately and stumbled out into the daylight, his eyes slitted against the sun’s late-morning brightness as he watched Max hop down out of the cab of her truck, looking for all the world as though she’d had a perfectly peaceful evening.

“Where the hell did you go?” Daniel demanded as she walked over to the front door of the saloon.

Max paused, looking a bit startled by the venom in his tone. “Didn’t you see my note?” she asked.

“I mean last night. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Max countered. “I left yesterday right after you did. I just got back. And good morning to you, too, by the way.” She stormed past him into the saloon with a quiet ‘asshole’ muttered under her breath.

Daniel remained standing there on the front porch for a minute or two, he wasn’t quite sure. When he finally came back inside, he walked straight past Max and into the backroom, which might have served as living quarters once upon a time before the gaping hole in the wall had rendered it unusable. The mirror still worked, though, for all its spiderweb cracks and layers of dust, and Daniel approached it with a trembling hand pressed to his collar.

Daniel stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds, just staring at his own reflection as if to reassure himself that he was still real, and then at last, tugged down the neck of his t-shirt to reveal a pattern of pale white marks that trailed down the side of his throat to his sternum, tracing the exact path of Max’s mouth the night before. They weren’t bruises—the exact opposite, in fact, as though the pigment in his skin had literally been leached from the places where she’d marked him.

All Daniel could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he stared at the marks. Then something—a face in the mirror that wasn’t his own. Daniel whipped around to find nothing waiting over his shoulder, just the same gap in the wall that had always been there, opening up onto the sagebrush-covered landscape, illuminated fully under the bright sunlight.

But Daniel could have sworn he’d seen something.

When he finally emerged from the backroom a few minutes later, Max was standing at the bar, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked him.

Daniel nodded. “Fine,” he lied. “Just a little….” He paused and swallowed hard. “Have you noticed anything strange lately?”

“Strange like what?” Max asked.

Daniel just shrugged.

Max laughed. “You should really stop letting the locals tell you ghost stories about this place,” she advised.

Daniel forced a smile and nodded. “You’re right,” he told her.

“Come on, then,” she said. “Let’s get back to work.”

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 5 🦌

"Cabin Colds"

Content: Sick Whumpee, Carewhumper

1100 Words

Hey it's part five! Who likes sick whumpees and caretaking whumpers? 👀

This part is short and simple, but it was a way for me to vent when I was sick last week, lol. The parts will get longer and more complex as we go though, so you can look forward to that!

I really wanna try and get this little story done, because afterwards I'm gonna be posting my story on Valentine, which I'm itching to share with you all. God, I can't wait for y'all to meet Valentine and Vittoria, man. It's gonna be great. But anyways, I hope you like this tiny little slice of sick whump!

       Fawn barely slept a wink that night, how could they? Tied up and in pain isn't exactly the utmost form of comfort.

       Ironically enough, it was warmer down in the basement. Though that's probably due to the numerous broken windows around the cabin, closed off with nothing more than wooden planks and tattered blankets. And last night they just added another one to the list.

       That's how Fawn would sleep for the next week. Their days consisted of the same old things, being taunted, condescended, sometimes slapped and pulled by the hair. Being treated as some pretty pet, or lowly companion. Eating nothing besides venison. It was all starting to take its toll on the poor thing.

As the days continued to tick by Fawn slowly came to the realization that they were going to be here for quite a while... unfortunately. They didn't want to completely give up hope just yet, but Hunter was quite experienced with this sort of thing, so it was apparent.

       One night, Fawn fell asleep with a sore throat, and woke up completely sick. It was freezing, but they also felt hot, all at once. Their head was pounding, their nose was running, and every muscle in their body was aching. It was pure, absolute misery, and worst of all they weren’t sure how Hunter was going to react to it. Whether or not they were going to be comforting or neglectful, Fawn liked neither option.

       Though they’ll accept any help by this point, they couldn’t just lay here, they simply couldn’t. They tried to call out to their captor, though their sore throat didn’t allow it. All they could do was cough, and a short while later, it was enough to catch their attention. All it took was one look at the poor thing for Hunter to tell they were sick. They crossed their arms and leaned their shoulder against the door frame.

       “Feelin’ bad, baby?”

       Fawn coughed, “Yes.”

       The sound of their voice made Hunter widen their eyes in surprise, “Oh, wow, you really are, poor thing." They said, still talking down to them, "Need some help?”

        Fawn would normally bicker and bite, but in this instance said, “Please.”

       Hunter didn’t waste a second going to untie them. Rope marks stained their wrists and ankles, which were growing more frail as the days ticked by as Fawn slowly lost weight and strength.

       Hunter picked them up bridal style, and carried them down to the basement, into a new room that was previously kept behind a locked door. A secret, cozy place that was actually rather nice, and well kept. They laid Fawn down on a couch, lit a fireplace, then covered them up with a thick quilted blanket. They left for a few minutes and returned with a cold washcloth, which they placed on their feverish forehead.

       “Do you want something to eat?”

       “No.”

       “Wanna rest?”

        “Yes.”

       Hunter gently lifted their head, sat down, and placed it on their lap. They ran slow fingers through their hair. They chuckled, “What, too sick to yell at me for this, are you?”

       Fawn simply peeked their eyes open, glared at them, and closed them again.

       “I see, I see. You can yell at me when you’re better.” They said, placing a hand on their head as they dragged their fingers through their now coarse hair. Fawn hated it, hated that their captor of all people was being so intimate and caring. They always hated it, but in this instance they were far too sickly to even think of biting back.

       Their head was pounding, fever burning, body sweating. Their throat was sore, it was hard to breathe, and they found themself asking for a tissue every few minutes. Their body ached, they felt nauseous, their stomach was upset, and every muscle in their body hurt. Their skin was sensitive to the touch, and they were tired as all hell but couldn’t find it in them to fall asleep.

       They weren’t sure what exactly they had, but it was probably the sickest they had ever felt in their entire life. Really, they probably had more than one thing. Being held out in an old, dirty cabin with deer carcasses all over the place is a pretty good guarantee that you’re going to catch something. Hunter was surely used to the conditions, but Fawn clearly was not.

       Eventually Fawn managed to drift off to sleep without even realizing. When they awoke again they were still there, head in Hunter’s lap. Hunter looked down at their sleepy eyes, and took the washcloth off their head to check their temperature with the back of their hand. They asked, “You feelin’ any better?”

       Fawn’s only response was a meek, hoarse, “Thirsty.”

       Hunter got up, gently laying them back down as they went to fetch a canteen of water. When they returned, they helped Fawn sit up as they held the canteen to their lips as they gulped down the whole thing at once. It felt difficult, uncomfortable, and painful to swallow due to their sore, swollen throat, but they persisted despite it.

       “Want me to grab you something to eat, too?” Hunter asked. Fawn thought for a moment, and slightly nodded.

       Hunter left to the kitchen once again, and ravaged through the old, dusty cupboards for something to feed them that wasn’t meat. They grabbed an old soup can, checked the date, and to their surprise it was still good. They rinsed a dusty bowl and poured the soup into it. They warmed it up over the stove, and retreated back down to the basement.

       "I thought you'd like something other than venison." Hunter said, sitting back down with Fawn, "How does vegetable soup sound?"

       Fawn could practically cry tears of joy. “great.”

       Fawn's head laid on Hunter's shoulder, one of their arms around them as the other fed them soup like a child. Fawn was far too sick to get upset about it, accepting the gesture with gratitude. They closed their eyes as Hunter fed them spoonfuls.

The warm, crackling fire paired with their fever made them just about ready to fall asleep. They were so feverish and tired that they even found it comforting when Hunter gently rubbed their hand up and down their back. If they had any sense of clarity in their head, they’d find the gentle gestures and caretaking insulting.

       Hunter finished feeding them the soup, placing the empty bowl on a nearby table. They looked down at the sickly thing in their arms, "Hm. I think it's time for bed, Fawn."

       "Says who?" Fawn mumbled, the soreness present in their tone.

       "Says me. You’re already falling asleep. And more sleep will do you good.”

       “What do you care.”

       “I care because I’d like to take care of my pet, that’s what.” They said, grabbing onto them as they both laid down. Fawn wanted so badly to fight against the gestures, but couldn't. They weren't sure if it was because of how ill they felt, or if it was because they actually liked it.

They hoped it wasn't the second one.

       Hunter held Fawn to their chest, their arms wrapped around them, both curled up under the blanket.

       Well, I suppose it's better than being tied to a bed. And, I guess there could always be worse creepy serial killers to be taken by...

Taglist: @parasitebunny

^^ If you want added, lmk!

[writingsofestella]

vespera - ch. 0

Apostate!Din Djarin x Ex!Jedi!OC -(no use of Y/N Canon Divergent - some plot changed for sake of story, the razor crest lives )

tws // general canon violence, usage of blasters and weapons, mentions of death, minors DNI 18+ only, angst, mature content, more tags to be added later on

a/n: first chapter of the new story. posting this into the void and hoping someone likes it to read it. this story has been spiralling around in my brain for weeks now and i wanted to share it and get it out there. let me know what you all think, and i hope you like it.

wc: 2637

It was nice to see people celebrating. With all of the chaos in the galaxy, it was good to see celebrations of happiness, now and then. Children laughing and chasing each other, adults holding one another tightly, neighbors helping neighbors, excitedly talking and cheering.

The great stone water fountain in the middle of the small village hadn't been running for years. The marshal had seemingly had the only working fountain in the entire town in his home. Of course, he was a businessman first, and couldn't help but use that to his gain. Man had to make credits somehow, he claimed.

How ironic it was that after an anonymous tip, the people investigated the water lines that ran through the town, through the buildings, only to find that the pipes had been turned off and rerouted. The marshal, who had claimed to have his people's best interests at heart, had pled innocence.

It was also ironic how, overnight, he ghosted the town. By morning light, the great fountain in the center was bursting forth with fresh water from the underground spring. Other smaller fountains in the town were filled with water once again, restoring life to the dying town.

If someone were to be paying attention, they'd think it strange that all this seemingly happened within the few weeks after the stranger had arrived to their little town.

The hooded stranger paid them all no mind, as she stood in the shadow of an alleyway. She leaned against the cool stone wall, taking comfort in it.

The heat that bore down on the planet Utov from its' two suns was almost unbearable for her to handle, which might have been another reason the town's fountains were now back in order.

Maybe she just hated seeing old men in power.

It was all just coincidental, of course.

One of the townsfolk, a young mother with a kid on her hip, excitedly came up to her. She had a wide smile on her face, relief and joy evident on her once worn and tired features. "Fyra, isn't it amazing? We won't have to worry about water anymore!" 

Fyra smiled from under her scarf. "It is. What does the little one think?" She asked, looking from the mother to the child. 

"Oh, he's got all sorts of ideas in his head about who did it." The mother, who was named Siane, teased, lightly. 

The kid, a young boy no older than six, looked at Fyra with wide eyes and a toothy smile. "You did it, didn't you?" He loudly whispered. "They said it was a shadow in the night, that no one really saw who it was!" 

"Hush now! We don't want to be bothering our traveler with that." Siane lightly chastised, teasingly pinching the boy's ear.

He let out a whine in protest, squirming.

Fyra simply gave a tilt of her head, amused. "What a shadow that must've been then." She responded lightly, holding her fingers out and wiggling them playfully. 

The boy giggled, and reached his own little hand out for her to take. She squeezed his hand playfully, before letting it go. Fyra didn't miss the inquisitive look she received, however, from Siane.

"These kids and their imaginations." She sighed out, shaking her head, but there was a happy smile on her face. "We're going to Danthi's later to celebrate. Are you coming?" Siane asked, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't know. I might, might not." Fyra said, undecided yet. "You know I'm not one for large celebrations." She said.

Siane let out a snort, shaking her head. "Yeah, I can tell. You're over here sulking in the corner instead of coming out and celebrating with us."

"I'm not sulking, I'm in the shade." Fyra retorted, shaking her head.

Siane let out an exasperated sigh, and then shook her head. "Alright, alright. Well, if you wanna go, you know where we'll be at." She says, as her little boy starting squirming to be let down and go run around with the other children. "I'll see you later then." She said, and with a nod, was being dragged out to the crowd by her child.

Fyra let out a quiet huff, that smile still playing on her lips, as she shook her head. She slipped away from the main celebration, making her way down the alleyway. She might go get a drink later, maybe something refreshing since she felt parched already from the day.

As she walked around the corner, however, a sinking feeling filled her stomach, and the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood straight up. She held her breath as she slowed her steps.

Without warning, a vibrocord whip flew past her head and she swerved, just in time to avoid getting trapped in it.

The culprit of the vibrocord stepped around the corner as it whipped back to its owner. A Mandalorian, in worn, chipped armor, appeared in the shadows of the alleyway. The only thing new on him was his beskar helmet, which stared down at her, unrelenting. His fingers twitched over the blaster at his hip.

A bounty hunter.

All the way out here.

"That's a rude way to say hello." She found herself saying, body tense, ready to run.

"You're a hard woman to find." He spoke back, voice rough through the modulator in the helmet.

"Maybe that's the point."

He gave the slightest tilt of his head. "They told me not to bother speaking to you, just to bring you in." He spoke out, voice even, controlled. "But I'll offer you a deal. You can come with me peacefully, or, I can drag you, kicking and screaming."

"That's not much of a deal." She retorted back, her body tense with the adrenaline filling her to run once again. Her heart raced as she tried to will the Force to calm her, help her think rationally so she'd make it out of this alive.

"Murderers with a bounty of their head don't usually get deals at all." He retorted, taking a threatening, stalking step toward her.

She cursed internally. She thought she'd gotten far enough away to not have any bounty hunters follow her this far out.

She had thought wrong.

"How kind of you." She retorted, voice dry as she took a cautionary step backwards. "Too bad I'll have to decline your deal."

With a roll and a duck, she narrowly avoided the vibrocord whip that shot past her head. Without hesitation, she used that momentum to bolt forward. 

Right Into the busy marketplace. 

She didn't hesitate. Ducking and weaving in between people, she ignored the yells of profanity as she pushed through. She could hear his footsteps, heavy and powerful, chasing after her. The screams and yells of the people they pushed through.

She could only hope the people would slow him down enough for her to escape. She pushed herself further into the crowd, no longer pushing, blending in and moving with the crowd. 

Sharply, she turned into an alleyway, a small cantina set in the back. Making her way, briskly, past the couples lingering outside, she was quick to get inside. It took her a minute to blink, for her eyes to adjust, but she was still moving. She couldn't stop. Her heart raced, chest heaving, as she tried to keep the panic at bay.

The cantina wasn't busy, most crowds outside still in the marketplace, celebrating. There were a few people she knew inside, people she had helped, setting up for the party.

Her eyes landed on the bartender, who was hanging something up. 

Danthi, with her greying hair pulled back into a tight bun and a towel over her shoulder, immediately shot up to look at her. Her hazel eyes locked onto her.

Frya pulled down the cloth over her face. "Danthi-" She sucked in a panicked breath. 

"Oh Fyra! What's got you so panicked, you look like you've seen a ghost!" She immediately gushed out, coming down off of the ladder to her side.

"There's a Mandalorian after me." She said, trying to reign in her fear. "I don't know how he found me but-"

Danthi gently grasped her arms, standing in front of her. "Calm down, breathe." She said, voice soothing. She started to lead her behind the bar. "Hey, you two!" She yelled at the two sitting near the door. "Whoever distracts the Mandalorian gets free drinks for the next month." She barked out.

The two aliens grinned. Downed their drinks. They cracked their necks, then walked outside, casually, as if not going up to face a Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Danthi turned back to her. "We knew this would eventually happen, right?" She said, continuing to lead her around the bar. Pushing open the half door, she led her in. 

"Yes, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon- I just came back here not that long ago." She breathed out, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"There's a trapdoor leading to underground tunnels. Follow it, straight, 'till it dead-ends. You'll find a transport droid that'll take you to a port." She ducked under the bar, grabbing a canvas bag, giving it to her. "Take this and run." 

Fyra was overwhelmed with emotion, with information. She tried to control it, letting the Force in to try and let it wash over her again. "But what if he comes in here?" 

She gave a shrug, a grin growing on her face. "I'm not scared of any man, let alone a Mandalorian." She tucked Fyra's scarf better atop her head. "You need to go. Let this be your payment for helping us." She said. "Let us help you, just this once." 

"Danthi-" 

She pulled Fyra into a tight, quick hug, before pulling back. She pulled out the key from under the collar of her shirt, unlocking the trapdoor.

It looked dark, dimly lit. Like a dungeon or a tomb for the dead, dust and dirt spewing out down below.

Looking back up to Danthi, she gave one more look. "Thank you." She breathed out. 

"Go. May the Force be with you." She smiled, giving one last squeeze of Fyra's arms. 

They could hear yelling outside. An argument. She could sense the rising danger just outside the cantina doors.

"Come on, Mando! Don't you ever take a day off and drink?!" 

"You think there's a living bein' under that armor or do you think he is the armor?"

The two women locked eyes again, and Danthi all but pushed her down the trapdoor. 

She landed on her feet, half stumbling, with a cloud of dust, dirt, and sand shooting up around her. Jerking her head back up, she got one last look at Danthi's confident, grinning face, before it was sealed back up.

And she was left in complete darkness.

Swallowing thickly, she took in a steadying breath. Letting it out, she reached to her side for the silver-hilted weapon she kept at her side. Her fingers ran over the worn but familiar buttons, but she did not ignite it. Instead, she reached for the flashlight she kept on her belt.

Yellow flickering light ignited in the tunnel as the flashlight came to life. It casted shadows against the walls, down the endless tunnels. Little creatures of the darkness slithered back into it, hissing and clicking noises following as they disappeared back into their darkness.

Ignoring the shiver that ran up her spine, she slid her scarf back over her face. She started walking down the tunnel, heading straight and true as Danthi told her. She tried to keep her memories in check. She was not being left behind in a tomb. She was not being abandoned by her Master. 

There was, however, someone hunting her down once more.

She could sense danger up above her and she had no doubt that it was the Mandalorian. Quickening her steps, she continued down the tunnel, trying to keep herself calm and grounded. She had to keep moving, had to keep going. 

Reaching the end of the tunnel, she heard a noise that made her heart drop to her stomach. It was the sound of flame, and then, metal melting. 

She turned off the light, sliding it back onto her holster, swift. Jumping up onto the ladder, she could hear the metal trapdoor being melted, falling away and crashing to the ground. She pushed away any and all thoughts about Danti being hurt. She couldn't. She couldn't let herself slow or let Danthi's efforts go in vain to get her out safe.

She was fine. She had to be.

Rapidly, she climbed up the ladder, using her shoulder to try and open it. "Dank ferrik!" She hissed out when it didn't budge. With a lift of her hand, she swiped it across the lock. 

A click resounded and it flung open. 

She pulled herself up and out, finding herself in another alleyway, on the outskirts of town. Heaving for air as she pulled herself up, she saw the transport droids with the sandships, hovering and waiting. 

Shoving the trapdoor back, with a loud, resounding SLAM and another flick of her wrist, it locked behind her, sealing it shut. She bolted toward the ship, not caring if anyone was out to see her frantic movements. 

She slid to a stop in front of the sandship, wide eyes, heaving chest, looking at the R2 droid in the ship.

"I need to get to the port. Now." She commanded.

It beeped in response. A question of where she wanted to go.

"Doesn't matter. Closest one. One that can get me off-planet." She retorted, hopping into the sandship, tying the bag Danthi had given her around her back and under her shoulder. 

Within seconds, she was taking off, zooming across the dry, hot desert. She felt the blaster before she heard it, the heat flying past her ear.

She gasped, ducking down immediately, head shooting back to look behind them. 

The Mandalorian had made it out, standing with a blaster in hand. A shiver raced down her spine as their gazes locked. 

He fired again, and she did not hesitate to use the Force to project an invisible shield around them. 

The droid screamed in fear and the ship dipped to the side, swerving. She slammed into the side of the ship with a forceful exhale.

She sucked in a fast breath, pain in her ribs. "It's alright!" She yelled to the little droid, breathless from the impact. "I got you, keep going!" 

The droid sped along, and she used the Force to protect them from any other blaster shots, seemingly redirecting them as they flew past them.

The Mandalorian's form, shining and reflecting the dying suns' light, stared her down, slowly lowering the blaster as he grew smaller and smaller behind her. 

She knew, without a doubt, he was not giving up. Mandalorians, as they were, never gave up, never stopped, until they were dying. This would not be the last time she saw him. She only hoped she was far enough way when she did that she could escape him again.

With the rising stars and moon above, she could only hope to the Force that she'd have the strength to keep one step ahead. That the universe would guide her where she needed to go.

As he disappeared with the town growing steadily smaller and smaller, she let the town, and its' people, go from her heart. She would hold their kindness in her chest, but she knew she probably would never be able to come back again.

The life of a Jedi in this galaxy would never be safe.

all writing is my own. please do not redistribute, repost, or share on other platforms. thank you

[artemis-b-writes]

A/N: Hey yall! First and foremost: If you’ve read this before this no you haven’t. This is my first time posting this Anyways! This is my first long-form story so of course I chose the longest show known to man!

Thank you to my lovely beta reader: @ebodebo (go follow her) for putting up w my constant talk of rewriting (turns out you do need 5 chapters of filler lol) and being my all around soundboard. I’m so excited for the things we have planned! Enough yapping let’s get on with it!

TW: gore, violence, strong language, mature content

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Chapter one- The World Is Ending

August 26th, 2010-

The beeping of hospital monitors haunted my sleep. I’d been spending every night in uncomfortable, plastic, hospital chairs for as many nights as my mom allowed. My father Rick Grimes had been shot in the line of duty 2 weeks ago and had fallen into a coma from the blood loss.

I stayed with him when my mom worked so he wasn’t alone. I’d tell him about school, keep him updated on Carl and read to him, praying he could hear me. A fresh vase of flowers at least made the room bright for when he’d wake up.

But right now I was sleeping, or trying anyway. I could feel a thin hospital blanket on me. Theo, one of the hospital's CNAs, harassed me about taking care of myself and usually I fell asleep fully clothed in their shitty chairs without a blanket.

“Peaches?” The voice behind her made Victoria practically jump out of her seat.

“Jesus Shane….you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?” Victoria asked harshly. She never liked Shane, even as a little girl they butted heads. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why Rick would hang out with him after work.

“Victoria we need to go. Now.” He spoke quickly, making his way to her dads bed and kneeling down beside him. “Rick, if you’re gonna wake up now’s the time man, shits going down and we need to leave.”

“Shane,” Victoria laughed half heartedly “what are you talking about?” Just when she thought he was finally losing it, gunfire started to ring out from outside the door. Shane pulled Nadia down under him as she screamed. Shane covered her mouth and she would’ve bit him in different circumstances.

I mean who the hell would open fire in a hospital?!

Victoria could feel the tears start to well as Shane begged her father to wake up so they could leave, telling him that if we stayed they’d all die. After a few minutes of bargaining Shane picked her up and dragged her out of the room.

“No!” She tried to push against his grip but he was incredibly strong. Victoria kicked and pulled until Shane pushed her into a hallway, begging her to be quiet or else they’d be found. She peaked around the corner, Shane pulled a gurney in front of Rick’s room. There was blood everywhere, screams and gunfire echoed down the hall. Shane grabbed her arm and they ran from the hospital, Victoria broke down when they got to his pickup.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Victoria hit Shane’s arm as hard as she could over and over and over until she didn’t have it in her anymore. She knew he was hurting too but didn’t care. He left her dad there to die.

“Peaches I had to.”

“Don’t call me peaches Shane. My dad is fucking dead.”

Shane sighed again, the truck roared to life as we peeled out of the parking lot. She stared out the window, thinking of her dad. Would he die? Would they leave a comatose man’s body to sort himself out? What if he woke up and everyone was gone?

Victoria and her father had always been close. She was the stereotypical ‘daddy’s girl’, hell as soon as she was old enough to hold a rifle without falling over she and her dad had gone hunting every season.

He taught her how to cook, she knew all his favorite bands and all the words to every corny song that he absolutely loved. Sometimes when Carl was a baby she and Rick would sneak out and go to the 7/11 down the block just to get candy and rent cheesy movies to watch together….and now they’d never share those moments again.

“We’re here.”

Shane’s voice broke Victoria from her daze, she looked out the window to see her mom and brother already packed up ready to hit the road. “Go’n and pack a bag, I’ll talk to your mama and Carl.”

Carl.

He was only 10…and now he’s going to find out he’ll never see his dad again and the world might be ending?? He’ll never get those moments hunting alone with his dad as the sun breaks the day. Or watch cheesy movies with her and their dad when Victoria would be home from college. She could feel the bile rising once again as she made her way past her family and into her room.

Victoria had a typical 17 year olds room. Honestly, the floor was littered with laundry she needed to do as well as some CDs she’d rummaged through that morning. Her walls were a neon teal, they’d mostly been covered with posters of movies and bands, and paintings she’d created out of boredom. She tried to soak in every inch of her room in case she’d never see it again. As she started to pack she took a Polaroid off her wall.

“Jeez Anthony….you should be at practice right around now. Please be safe.”

She tucked the Polaroid of her and her best friend into the pocket of her backpack and kept packing. Just the essentials: a couple pairs of jeans, some tee shirts, boots, hat, dads hunting jacket, socks…toothbrush? Definitely a toothbrush. A hairbrush and a few notebooks and pens (and some comic books for Carl). She also made the decision to pack her hunting rifle in case they got stuck foraging for food, as well as a heavy knife.

She threw her bag into the back of the truck so that no one would suspect how heavy it was. Her mom and brother were crying into Shane as he had just broken the news. Or however he’d spun the story…but Victoria knew the truth that Shane had abandoned his “best friend”. Shane loaded everyone up into the truck and said they’d be headed to Atlanta and that the military would help them.

“Are we going to die?”

While it was spoken barely above a whisper, the question jolted Victoria out of her daydreamed haze. She looked down at her brother Carl who was laying in her lap.

“No baby. Because I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and so will mom and Shane.” Victoria tried her best to reassure him, rubbing his back softly. She’d instructed him to lay in her lap so he couldn’t see the panic that the rest of the world was in.

Before they knew it, they’d left King County and were headed to Atlanta. Victoria fiddled with her cross necklace, Carl had fallen asleep leaving the truck uncomfortably quiet.

The Grimes weren’t really a religious family but Victoria did usually attend Wednesday night Youth Group with her best friend Anthony. The necklace was a gift from him.

Anthony. There he was on her mind again, she’d thought about calling him but Lori demanded she save her battery incase of emergency. Anthony Smith had been her best friend since middle school. They did everything together and were practically attached at the hip when they saw each other. He was a year older than her but that never mattered in how close they were.

Anthony was actually quite soft spoken, and smart as a whip. He was a tall kid, probably standing at about 6’3. He was built like an athlete, but he had to be with Track and field. They actually became friends at a track meet in sixth grade and kept up with eachother daily through AOL and Skype. And obviously only hung around each other at said meets. Anthony’s dad was a PE teacher and Coach so he definitely fueled the athletic fire in both kids. Anthony has always been a sweet kid and even when he was an asshole Victoria could never be mad at-

“Victoria! Get your head out of the clouds I’m talking!”

Victoria jolted in her seat, there she was daydreaming again. Lori was giving her daughter quite the concerned look.

“Where are we mom?” Victoria looked out the window to see full bumper to bumper traffic.

“Outside of Atlanta but as you can see we’re stuck in traffic” Shane answered from outside, with quite an annoyed tone Victoria noticed. She ignored Shane and hopped out of the truck so she could stretch her legs.

“Where’s Carl? I think I threw some comic books in my bag, I’m sure he’s bored out of his mind sitting here.” Victoria looked around and spotted Carl a few cars down playing checkers with a girl who looked to be about his age. She had a short blonde bob and a smile as bright as the sun.

Victoria smiled in amusement and made her way to the car with her mom. “Someone has a cru-ush!” She teased in a sing-song voice. She yelped when Carl turned around and smacked her arm as hard as he could.

“Mo-om!!! Carl hit me!”

“Don’t tease your brother then!” She laughed. Victoria rolled her eyes and fluffed her brother's hair before sitting behind him to watch the kids play. Right as she sat down a woman came from the front of the car with waters. She was a smaller woman with buzzed gray hair.

“Oh! You must be Victoria, I’m Carol!” She had a smile just as bright as Sofias, Victoria made a mental note that they must be related. She smiled and thanked her for the water, and as she took a sip Carl enacted his revenge.

“You say I have a crush on a girl I just met when you’ve been after Anthony since forever.” Victoria showered the back of Carls with the water she had just taken a sip of and was prepared to cuss him out when the commotion started. Bombs were dropping into Atlanta.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Victoria screamed as she pulled the kids down to the ground underneath Carol’s car. She moved her body over the both of them so they would be shielded if anything came down.

The rest of the night was a blur. Shane grabbed everyone’s bags from the truck, grunting as he lifted Victoria's particularly heavy bag. They ran into the woods with Carol, her husband Ed, and Sophia. There were screams in the distance and somehow Victoria and the kids got separated. She held onto both of them tightly. They ran until they came up on a high spot with a small clearing.

“Stop right there.” The shotgun barrel was aimed right between Victoria's eyes. They widened with fear as she put both her hands in front of her slowly.

“Sir, we’re just trying to get off the road…I have two small kids with me, please.”

The man’s aim faltered at the sight of the kids. Victoria rushed him, taking the gun and pointing it back at him. It probably wasn’t her smartest move but she had Sophia and Carl to look out for. There was a shriek behind her and Victoria whipped around just in time to shoot a man who was trying to get Sophia. Wait…what the hell?

Victoria slowly crept up to the man. He looked pale, his eyes were white and glossy and there was fresh blood around his mouth.

“Good aim kid. I’m sorry I pointed that thing at you. I just had to make sure you weren’t like him. The names Dale, you kids can stay with me and the girls tonight and we’ll look for your crew in the morning.” Dale smiled at her warmly, he was an older man judging by his white hair. But he had kind eyes and it was late so Victoria decided he could he trusted for the night.

She nodded, grabbing the kids as they headed into Dale's RV. There were two blonde girls sitting on the couch. One older one younger, Victoria figured they were probably sisters.

“Dale, who are they?” The older blonde asked, glaring at the three kids.

“Easy Andrea, the older one can take out those things like you wouldn’t believe!” Dale smiled back at Victoria. “They’re just staying for the night and…I didn’t get your name sweetheart?”

“Victoria. Victoria Grimes.”

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[real-total-drama-takes]

I was on DeviantArt and found this interesting photo involving Carrie and Junior.

Here is the post: https://www.deviantart.com/purfectprincessgirl/art/Pizza-Pick-Me-Up-606191780

And here is the description they left that explains the backstory:

"Shortly after the ending of Ridonculous Race, Carrie and Devin went on to continue their dating life. Though the first few months were great and full of passion…by the end of the first 2-3 years the said passion was beginning to fade. Carrie was just getting so needy for love and attention, while Devin wanted to slow things down and constantly got distracted by everything. It got to the point where he started to forget about his dates with Carrie, important events like anniversaries, and even to the point of forgetting her own birthday. Carrie at first tried to be patient as she didn't want to come across as clingy or obsessive to him….but by the end of the 4th year and no further romantic action from Devin left her frustrated and they began to argue on and off again. Finally, by the 5th year of dating they decided to break things off for good.

While on one hand, Devin himself wasn't too bothered by the breakup (even managing to get himself a new girlfriend, Ellody, in 3 weeks afterwords), Carrie herself was distraught at not being able to be "together forever" with her childhood crush. She closed herself off from the world, and resorted to staying in her bedroom and eating junkfood to forget the pain. Whenever she ran low on food, she would order out and have several pizzas delivered to her house (with a note placed outside for the delivery guy to leave the food by the door so she can get it later without others seeing her in public).

In the meanwhile, Junior and his father were bonding more than ever after they came home from the game show. They may not have won the prize money, but the experience left them feeling content anyway. In the next several years, young Junior was beginning to grow into a handsome young man…eventually moving out of his family home to rent an apartment next to his college. Being on his own, he had to resort to getting a job as a pizza delivery boy. One of his biggest customers always had him leave the pizzas by the door of her apartment without meeting her in person. The more this happened, the more Junior grew curious as to who was behind the door…

One day, he decided to change things up by simply standing out in front of the door, knocking on it as he would for any other house. On the other side, he heard some scuffling and watched as the door slowly creaked open…to reveal none other than his old Ridonculous Race crush, Carrie! He could easily recognize her off the bat, yet it took Carrie several minutes to realize that the hunky pizza boy standing in front of her was none other than Junior. Several awkward laughs later, and the two began to idly chat after Junior gave her the pizzas. They talked about how their lives were going and what's been happening for the past five years. Of course they eventually had to cut it short as Junior had to leave to finish his other deliveries, but he promised to visit her again if she ordered again.

Carrie, feeling on cloud nine at having been noticed by a guy…a cute guy in-fact, suddenly started feeling awkward about the ordeal. Though they were both legal adults by now (Junior being 18, and Carrie being 23), she felt weird having this attraction to someone that was once half her height when they were both competing on that game show. Having had that crush on Devin for years, she never bothered to try and expand her horizons in regards to other guys…but she just couldn't help being so easily impressed by kindness. After some weeks of hesitation, she decided to give Junior a chance and they went on to date happier than she ever was with Devin. A couple more years down the line, they married and started their own family (around the same time as Devin and Ellody, who were also married now).

Now that both families were on good terms, they allowed their own children to hang out and befriend each other, just like old times."

What do you think? TD fanart can be fun and exciting sometimes, sometimes it can be...interesting, and sometimes it might raise questions.

🍨 - Ice Cream Anon